III.

Peace is the object of my dear delight: But thou, O tyrant, thou whose breast Well may I deem by frenzy is possest, If ’gainst this city thou exert thy might, Pant’st after trophies which thou ne’er shalt gain. Bearing targe and brazen lance Others with equal arms advance. O thou, who fondly seek’st th’ embattled plain, Shake not these turrets, spare the haunt Of every gentle grace.—Thou wretch, avaunt.

DEMOPHOON, IOLAUS, CHORUS.

IOL. Why com’st thou hither, O my son, with eyes Expressive of affliction? from the foe What recent information canst thou give? Do they delay their march, are they at hand, Or bring’st thou any tidings? for the threats That herald uttered sure will be accomplished. Blest in the favour of the gods, the tyrant Exults, I know, and arrogantly deems That he o’er Athens shall prevail; but Jove Chastises the presumptuous.

DEM. Argos comes With numerous squadrons, and its king Eurystheus, Myself beheld him. It behoves the man Who claims the merit of an able chief, Not to depend upon his spies alone To mark the foe’s approach. But with his host He hath not yet invaded these domains, But halting on yon mountain’s topmost ridge Observes (I from conjecture speak) the road By which he may lead forth his troops to battle, And where he in this realm with greatest safety May station them. Already have I made Each preparation to repel their onset. The city is in arms, the victims stand Before the altars, with their blood t’ appease The wrath of every god, and due lustrations Are sprinkled by the seers, that o’er our foes We may obtain a triumph, and preserve This country. Every prophet who expounds The oracles, convening, have I searched Into each sage response of ancient times, Or public or concealed, on which depends The welfare of the realm. In all beside Differ Heaven’s mandates: but one dread behest Runs through the several auspices, to Ceres They bid me sacrifice some blooming maid Who from a nobler sire derives her birth. Zeal have I shown abundant in your cause, But will not slay my daughter, nor constrain Any Athenian citizen to make Such an abhorred oblation: for the man Exists not, who is so devoid of reason, As willingly to yield his children up With his own hands. But what afflicts me most Is this: tumultuous crowds appear; some cry, ’Tis just that we the foreign suppliants aid, But others blame my folly. If no means Can be devised to satisfy them all, Soon will a storm of civil war arise. See thou to this, and think of some expedient, How ye and how this country may be saved, Without the citizens’ calumnious tongues My fame assailing. For I rule not here With boundless power, like a barbarian king; Let but my deeds be just, and in return Shall I experience justice.

CHOR. Will not Jove Suffer this city to exert its courage, And aid these hapless strangers as we wish?

IOL. Our situation, O my sons, resembles That of the mariners, who having ’scaped The storm’s relentless fury, when in sight Of land, are from the coast by adverse winds Driven back into the deep. Thus from this realm Just as we reach the shore, like shipwrecked men, Are we expelled. O inauspicious Hope, Why didst thou soothe me with ideal joy, Although it was ordained that thou should’st leave Thy favours incomplete? The king deserves At least to be excused, if he consent not To slay his subjects’ daughters; to this city My praise is due, and if the gods would place me In the same prosperous fortunes, from my soul Your benefits should never be effaced. But now, alas! no counsel can I give To you, my children. Whither shall we turn? What god have we neglected? To what land Have we not fled for shelter? We must perish, We shall be yielded up. My being doomed To die, I heed but for this cause alone, That by my death I shall afford delight To our perfidious foes. But, O my sons. For you I weep, I pity you, I pity Alcmena, aged mother of your sire, Oh, most unhappy in a life too long! I too am wretched, who unnumbered toils Have fruitlessly endured; it was ordained, It was ordained, alas! that we should fall Into the hands of our relentless foes, And meet a shameful, miserable death. Know you, what still remains for you to do, On my behalf? For all my hopes of saving The children are not vanished. In their stead Me to the Argive host surrender up, O king, and rush not into needless danger, Yet save these children. To retain a love Of life becomes me not; I yield it up Without regret. It is Eurystheus’ wish The rather to seize me, and to expose To infamy, because I was the comrade Of Hercules; for frenzy hath possessed His soul. The wise man, e’en in those he hates, Had rather find discretion than a want Of understanding; for a foe endued With sense will pay due reverence to the vanquished.

CHOR. Forbear, old man, thus hastily to blame This city; for to us though it might prove More advantageous, yet to our disgrace Would it redound, should we betray our guests.

DEM. A generous, but impracticable, scheme Is that thou hast proposed: for Argos’ king In quest of thee no squadrons hither leads. What profit to Eurystheus from the death Of one so old as thou art could arise? He wants to murder _these_: for to their foes The rising blossoms of a noble race, To whom the memory of their father’s wrongs Is present, must be dreadful: for all this He cannot but foresee. But if thou know Of any other counsel more expedient, Adopt it; for my soul hath been perplexed, Since that oracular response I heard Which fills me with unwelcome apprehensions.

[_Exit_ DEMOPHOON.

MACARIA, IOLAUS, CHORUS.

MAC. Deem not that I, O strangers, am too bold Because I from my chamber venture forth; This is my first request: for silence, joined With modesty and a domestic life, Is woman’s best accomplishment. I heard Your groans, O Iolaus, and advanced Though not appointed by our house to act As their ambassadress; in some degree Yet am I qualified for such an office, I have so great an interest in the weal Of these my brothers; on my own account I also wish to hear if any ill, Added to those you have already suffered, Torture your soul.

IOL. Not now for the first time, On thee, O daughter, most of all the children Of Hercules my praise can I bestow: But our ill-fated house, just as it seemed Emerging from its past disgraces, sinks Afresh into inextricable ruin. The king informs us, that the seers, whose voice Expounds the will of heaven, have signified No bull nor heifer, but some blooming maid Who from a noble sire derives her birth, Must be the victim, if we would redeem The city and ourselves from utter ruin; Here then are we perplexed: for his own children He says he will not sacrifice, nor those Of any of his subjects. Though to me Indeed he speaks not plainly, in some sort He intimates, that if we by no means Can extricate ourselves from these distresses, We must find out some other land to flee to, For he this realm would from destruction save.

MAC. May we indulge the hope of our escape Upon these terms?

IOL. These only: in all else With prosperous fortunes crowned.

MAC. No longer dread The spear of Argos, for myself, old man, Am ready, ere they doom me to be slain, And here stand forth a voluntary victim. For what could we allege on our behalf, If Athens condescend to undergo Dangers so great, while we who have imposed These toils on others, though within our reach Lie all the means of being saved, yet shrink From death? Not thus: we should provoke the laugh Of universal scorn, if, with loud groans, We suppliants, at the altars of the gods, Should take our seats, and prove devoid of courage, From that illustrious father though we spring. How can the virtuous reconcile such conduct? This to our glory would forsooth redound (O may it never happen!) when this city Is taken, should we fall into the hands Of our triumphant foes, when after all Some noble maid reluctant must be dragged To Pluto’s loathed embrace. But from these realms Cast forth, should I become an abject vagrant, Must I not blush when any one inquires, “Why came ye hither with your suppliant branches Too fond of life? Retreat from these domains, For we no aid to cowards will afford.” But if when these are dead, my single life Be saved, I cannot entertain a hope That I shall e’er be happy: through this motive Have caused full many to betray their friends. For who with a deserted maid will join, Or in the bonds of wedlock, or desire That I to him a race of sons should bear? I therefore hold it better far to die, Than to endure, without deserving them, Such foul indignities, as can seem light To her alone, who, from a noble race Like mine, descends not: to the scene of death Conduct, with garlands crown me, and prepare If ye think fit, th’ initiatory rites; Ye hence the foe shall conquer: for this soul Shrinks not with mean reluctance. I engage For these my brothers, and myself, to bleed A willing victim; for with ease detached From life, I have imbibed this best of lessons, To die with firmness in a glorious cause.

CHOR. Alas! what language shall I find, t’ express My admiration of the lofty speech I from this virgin hear, who for her brothers Resolves to die? What tongue can utter words More truly generous; or what man surpass Such deeds as these?

IOL. Thou art no spurious child, But from the godlike seed of Hercules, O daughter, dost indeed derive thy birth. Although thy words are such as cannot shame, Thy fate afflicts me. Yet will I propose What may with greater justice be performed. Together call the sisters of this maid, And to atone for the whole race, let her On whom th’ impartial lot shall fall, be slain; But without such decision ’tis not just That thou should’st die.

MAC. I will not die as chance The lot dispenses; for I hence should forfeit All merit: name not such a scheme, old man. If me ye will accept, and of my zeal Avail yourselves, I gladly yield up life Upon these terms, but stoop not to constraint.

IOL. The speech thou now hast uttered soars beyond What thou at first didst say, though that was noble: But thou thy former courage dost surpass By this fresh instance of exalted courage, The merit of thy former words, by words More meritorious. Daughter, I command not, Nor yet oppose thy death: for thou by dying Wilt serve thy brothers.

MAC. You in cautious terms Command me: fear not, lest on my account You should contract pollution: for to die Is my free choice. But follow me, old man, For in your arms would I expire: attend, And o’er my body cast the decent veil: To dreadful slaughter dauntless I go forth, Because I from that father spring, whose name With pride I utter.

IOL. At the hour of death I cannot stand beside thee.

MAC. Grant but this, That when I breathe my last, I may be tended By women, not by men.

IOL. It shall be thus, O miserable virgin: for in me ’Twere base, if I neglected any rite That decency enjoins, for many reasons; Because thy soul is great, because ’tis just, And of all women I have ever seen, Because thou art most wretched. But from these And from thy aged kinsman, if thou wish For aught, to me thy last behests address.

MAC. Adieu, my venerable friend, adieu! Instruct these boys in every branch of wisdom, And make them like yourself, they can attain No higher pitch; strive to protect them still, And for their sake that valued life prolong; Your children we, to you our nurture owe. Me you behold, mature for bridal joys, Dying to save them. But may ye, my band Of brothers who are here, be blest, and gain All those advantages, which to procure For you, the falchion shall transpierce my breast. Revere this good old man, revere Alcmena Your father’s aged mother, and these strangers. Should ye be ever rescued from your woes, Should gracious Heaven permit you to revisit Your native land, forget not to inter, With such magnificence as I deserve, Your benefactress, for I have not proved Deficient in attention to your welfare, But die to save our family. To me These monumental honours shall suffice Instead of children, or the virgin state, If there be aught amid the realms beneath, But ’tis my wish there may not: for if grief On us frail mortals also there attend, I know not whither any one can turn: For by the wise hath death been ever deemed The most effectual cure for every ill.

IOL. O thou, distinguished by thy lofty soul, Be well assured thy glory shall outshine That of all other women; both in life And death, shalt thou be honoured by thy friends. But ah, farewell! for with ill-omened words I tremble lest we should provoke the goddess, Dread Proserpine, to whom thou now art sacred.

[_Exit_ MACARIA.

My sons I perish: grief unnerves my frame; Support and place me in the hallowed seat: And, O my dearest children, o’er my face Extend this garment: for I am not pleased With what is done: yet, had not Heaven’s response Found this completion, we must all have died; For we must then have suffered greater ills Than these, which are already most severe.

CHORUS.

ODE.

In just proportion, as the gods ordain, Is bliss diffused through life’s short span, Or sorrow portioned out to man: No favoured house can still maintain From age to age its prosperous state, For swift are the vicissitudes of fate, Who now assails pride’s towering crest, Now makes the drooping exile blest. From destiny we cannot fly; No wisdom can her shafts repel; But he who vainly dares her power defy Compassed with endless toils shall dwell. Ask not from Heaven with impious prayer, Blessings it cannot grant to man, Nor waste in misery life’s short span O’erwhelmed by querulous despair. The nymph goes forth to meet a noble death, Her brothers and this land to save, And fame, with tributary breath Shall sound her praises in the grave. For dauntless virtue finds a way Through labours which her progress would delay. Such deeds as these, her father grace, And add fresh splendour to her race, But if with reverential awe thou shed Over the virtuous dead A tear of pity, in that tear I’ll join, Inspired with sentiments like thine.

SERVANT, IOLAUS, CHORUS.

SER. Ye children, hail! but where is Iolaus, That aged man; and hath your grandame left Her seat before the altar?

IOL. Here am I, If aught my presence can avail.

SER. On earth Why art thou stretched, what means that downcast look?

IOL. Domestic cares have harrowed up my soul.

SER. Lift up thy head, arise.

IOL. I am grown old, And all my strength is vanished.

SER. But to thee I bring most joyful tidings.

IOL. Who art thou? Where have I seen thee? I remember not.

SER. Hyllus’ attendant, canst thou not distinguish These features?

IOL. O my friend, art thou arrived To snatch me from despair?

SER. Most certainly: Moreover the intelligence I bring Will make thee happy.

IOL. Thee I call, come forth, Alcmena, mother of a noble son, And listen to these acceptable tidings: Full long thy soul, for those who now approach, Was torn with grief, lest they should ne’er return.

ALCMENA, SERVANT, IOLAUS, CHORUS.

ALC. Whence with your voice resounds this echoing dome, O Iolaus, is another herald From Argos come, who forcibly assails you? My strength indeed is small, yet be assured Of this, presumptuous stranger, while I live Thou shalt not bear them hence. May I no more Be deemed the mother of that godlike son, When I submit to this. But if thou dare To touch the children, with two aged foes Ignobly wilt thou strive.

IOL. Be of good cheer, Thou hoary matron, banish these alarms; No herald with a hostile message comes From Argos.

ALC. Why then raised you that loud voice, The harbinger of fear?

IOL. That from the temple Thou might’st come forth, and join us.

ALC. What you mean I comprehend not. Who is this?

IOL. He tells us Thy grandson marches hither.

ALC. Hail, O thou Who bear’st these welcome tidings? but what brings him To these domains? Where is he? What affairs Prevented him from coming hither with thee, To fill my soul with transport?

SER. He now marshals The forces which attend him.

ALC. In this conference Am I no longer then allowed to join?

IOL. Thou art: but ’tis my business to inquire Into these matters.

SER. Which of his transactions Say art thou most solicitous to know?

IOL. The number of the troops he leads?

SER. Is great, I cannot count them.

IOL. The Athenian chiefs Are sure apprized of this.

SER. They are apprized, And the left wing is formed.

IOL. Then the whole host Arrayed in arms is ready for the battle.

SER. The victims to a distance from the ranks Already are removed.

IOL. But at what distance Is the encampment of the Argive warriors?

SER. So near that we their leader can distinguish.

IOL. What is he doing; marshalling our foes?

SER. This we conjecture: for I could not hear His voice: but I must go; for I my lord Will not abandon when he nobly braves The dangers of the field.

IOL. I too with thee Will join him; for the same are our intentions, As honour bids us, to assist our friends.

SER. Unwisely hast thou spoken.

IOL. With my friends Shall not I then the stubborn conflict share?

SER. That strength which erst was thine is now no more.

IOL. Can I not pierce their shields?

SER. Thou may’st: but first, More likely, fall thyself.

IOL. No foe will dare To meet me face to face.

SER. By thy mere looks, With that debilitated arm, no wound Canst thou inflict.

IOL. My presence in the field Will to our troops give courage, and augment Their number.

SER. Of small service to thy friends Will thy appearance prove.

IOL. Detain me not: I for some glorious action am prepared.

SER. Thou hast the will to act, but not the power.

IOL. I will not be reproached for loitering here, Say what thou wilt beside.

SER. But without arms How wilt thou face yon warriors sheathed in mail?

IOL. The various implements of war are lodged Beneath these roofs; with freedom will I use, And if I live, return them; if I die, The god will not demand them back again. Go then into the temple, and reach down Those martial trappings from the golden nails On which they hang, and bring them to me swiftly. For this were infamous, while some are fighting, If others loiter slothfully behind.

[_Exit_ SERVANT.

CHOR. Time hath not yet debased that lofty soul ’Tis vigorous, though thy body be decayed. Why should’st thou enter on these fruitless toils, Which only injure thee, and to our city Can be of little service? on thy age Should’st thou reflect, and lay aside attempts That are impossible, for by no arts The long-lost force of youth canst thou regain.

ALC. What schemes are these? distempered in your mind, Me and my children mean you to abandon?

IOL. The battle is man’s province: to thy care Them I consign.

ALC. But if you die, what means Have I of being saved?

IOL. The tender care Of the surviving children of thy son.

ALC. Should they too meet with some severe mishap, Which may the gods forbid.

IOL. These generous strangers Will not betray thee; banish every fear.

ALC. In them I trust: I have no other friend.

IOL. Jove too, I know, is mindful of thy toils.

ALC. I will not speak in disrespectful terms Of Jove: but whether he his plighted troth Have kept, full well he knows.

SER. [_returning._] Thou here behold’st The brazen panoply, now haste to sheathe Thy limbs in mail; the battle is at hand, And Mars detests a loiterer: if thou fear Accoutrements so ponderous, to the field Advance disarmed, nor till thou join the ranks Wear these unwieldy trappings; for meantime I in my hands their burden will sustain.

IOL. Well hast thou spoken; with those arms attend me Ready for the encounter, place a spear In my right hand, and under my left arm Hold me, and guide my steps.

SER. Shall I conduct A warrior like a child?

IOL. I must tread sure, Else ’twere an evil omen.

SER. Would thy power Equalled thy zeal.

IOL. Haste: greatly ’twill afflict me If, left behind, I cannot join the fray.

SER. Slow are thy steps, and hence thou deem’st I move not.

IOL. Behold’st thou not the swiftness of my pace?

SER. Thou to thyself I see appear’st to hasten, Although thou gain’st no ground.

IOL. When in the field Thou seest me, thou wilt own I speak the truth.

SER. What great exploit achieving? I could wish That thou might’st prove victorious.

IOL. Through his shield Some foe transfixing.

SER. We at length may reach Th’ embattled plain, but this I greatly fear.

IOL. Ah, would to heaven, that thou, my withered arm, Again wert vigorous, as in former days Thee I remember, when thou didst lay waste The Spartan realms with Hercules; thus fight My battles now, and singly will I triumph Over Eurystheus, for that dastard fears To face the dangers of th’ embattled field: Too apt in our ideas to unite Valour with wealth, yet to the prosperous man Superior wisdom falsely we ascribe.

[_Exeunt_ IOLAUS _and_ SERVANT.

CHORUS.

ODE.

I. 1.

O fostering Earth, resplendent Moon, Who gladd’st the dreary shades of night, And thou, enthroned at broadest noon, Hyperion, ’midst exhaustless light, To me propitious tidings bring, Raise to the skies a festive sound, And waft the gladsome notes around, Till, from the palace of our king, They echo through Minerva’s fane: My house, my country, to maintain Against the ruthless spoiler’s pride, Menaced because this realm extends Protection to its suppliant friends, I with the sword our contest will decide.

I. 2.

Although there seem just cause for dread, When cities like Mycene blest, Whose triumphs fame hath widely spread Enter this region to invest Our bulwarks, harbouring ruthless hate. Think, O my country, think what shame, Should we reject the suppliant’s claim Appalled by Argos’ haughty state. Resistless Jove shall aid the spear I brandish unappalled by fear; The tribute of eternal praise From all that breathe, to him is due: Nor magnified by our weak view Shall men above the gods their trophies raise.

II. 1.

Descend with venerable mien, O thou our guardian and our queen, For on thy fostering soil we stand, These walls were reared by thy command, Drive from our menaced gates the lawless host, Suppress that Argive tyrant’s boast; For if by you unaided, is this hand Too weak their fury to withstand.

II. 2.

Thee, O Minerva, we adore, Thy altar ever streams with gore: We on each moon’s concluding day To thee our public homage pay; Through every fane harmonious numbers sound, Sweet minstrelsy then breathes around, And th’ echoing hills their nightly dance repeat As the nymphs move with agile feet.

SERVANT, ALCMENA, CHORUS.

SER. O royal dame, the message that to you I bring, is both concise, and what reflects On me abundant glory to relate, In fight have we prevailed, and trophies reared On which the armour of your foes is hung.

ALC. This day hath brought thee hither, O my friend, Thy freedom for such tidings to receive: But one anxiety there still remains To which thou leav’st me subject; much I fear For the important lives of those I love.

SER. They live, and have obtained from all the host The greatest fame.

ALC. And Iolaus too, My aged friend?

SER. Yet more, he hath performed Through the peculiar favour of the gods Exploits most memorable.

ALC. What glorious deed Hath he achieved in fight?

SER. From an old man, He is grown young again.

ALC. Thou speak’st of things Most wonderful. But first, how fought our friends With such success, I wish thee to inform me.

SER. All that hath passed, at once will I relate When, to each other in the field opposed, We had arranged both armies, and spread forth The van of battle to its full extent, Hyllus alighting from his chariot, stood In the midway ’twixt either host, and cried: “Thou leader of the Argive troops, who com’st With hostile fury to invade this land, Thy interests recommend what I propose, Nor can Mycene suffer from the loss If thou deprive her of a single warrior; Therefore with me encounter hand to hand, And if thou slay me, seize and bear away The sons of Hercules; but if thou die, My palace and hereditary rank Permit me to enjoy.” The troops assented, And praised what he had spoken as the means Of finishing their labours, and a proof Of his exalted courage. But Eurystheus Unmoved by reverence for th’ assembled host Who heard the challenge, and with terror smitten, Forgot the general’s part, nor dared to face The lifted spear, but acted like a dastard: Yet he who was thus destitute of courage Came to enslave the sons of Hercules. Hyllus again retreated to his rank; The prophets too, when they perceived no peace Could be effected by a single combat, Without delay the blooming virgin slew, Auspicious victim, from whose pallid lips Her trembling spirit fled. The lofty car Some mounted, o’er their sides while others flung Their bucklers to protect them. To his host, Meantime the king of Athens, in a strain Worthy of his exalted courage, spoke: “Ye citizens, the land to which ye owe Your nourishment and birth, now claims your aid.” Equally loth to sully the renown Of Argos and Mycene, in like terms The foe besought his partners of the war Their utmost vigour to exert. No sooner Had the loud signal by Etruria’s trump Been given, than they in thickest battle joined. Think with what crash their brazen shields resounded, What groans and intermingled shouts were heard! First through our lines the host of Argos burst, And in their turn gave way: then foot to foot, And man to man opposed, in stubborn conflict We all persisted: multitudes were slain; But in this language either chief his troops Encouraged: “O ye citizens of Athens, O ye who till the fruitful Argive field, Will ye not from your native land repel The foul disgrace?” But with our utmost efforts Scarce could we put to flight the Argive host. When Iolaus saw young Hyllus break The ranks of battle, he with lifted hands Entreated him to place him in his car, Then seized the reins, and onward in pursuit Of the swift coursers of Eurystheus drove. As to the sequel; from report alone Let others speak, I tell what I have seen: While through Pallenè’s streets he passed, where rise Minerva’s altars, soon as he descried The chariot of Eurystheus, he a prayer Addressed to blooming Hebe, and to Jove, That for that single day he might recover The pristine vigour of his youth, and punish His foes as they deserve. You now shall hear What a miraculous event ensued; Two stars ’bove Iolaus’ chariot stood, And overshadowed it with gloomy clouds, Which, by the wise ’tis said, were Hercules Your son, and blooming Hebe: from that mist Which veiled the skies, the chief grown young again, Displayed his vigorous arms, and near the rocks Of Scyron, seized Eurystheus in his car. Binding his hands with chains, he hither brings The Argive tyrant, a distinguished prize, Who once was happy; but on all mankind Loudly inculcates by his present fortunes This lesson: not too rashly to ascribe Felicity to him who in appearance Is prosperous, but to wait till we behold His close of life; for fortune day by day Doth waver.

CHOR. Thou great author of success, O Jove, at length am I allowed to view The day, by which my terrors are dispelled.

ALC. ’Twas late indeed, when thou, O Jove, didst look On my afflictions; yet am I to thee Most grateful for the kindness thou hast shown me. And though I erst believed not that my son Dwells with the gods, I clearly know it now. Now, O my children, ye from all your toils Shall be set free, and of Eurystheus, doomed With shame to perish, burst the galling yoke, Behold your father’s city, the rich fields Of your inheritance again possess, And sacrifice to your paternal gods, From whom excluded, in a foreign land Ye led a wandering miserable life. But with what sage design yet undisclosed, Hath Iolaus spared Eurystheus’ life, Inform me: for to us it seems unwise Not to avenge our wrongs when we have caught Our enemies.

SER. He through respect to you Hath acted thus, that you might see the tyrant Vanquished, and rendered subject to your power, Not by his own consent, but in the yoke Bound by necessity; for he was loth To come into your presence, ere he bleed, And suffer as he merits. But farewell, O venerable matron, and remember The promise you first made when I began These tidings, and, oh, set me free: for nought But truth should from ingenuous lips proceed.

[_Exit_ SERVANT.

CHORUS.

ODE.

I. 1.

To me the choral song is sweet, When the shrill flute and genial banquet meet, If Venus also grace the festive board: I taste a more refined delight Now I behold my friends (transporting sight!) To unexpected happiness restored. For in this nether world, eventful Fate, And Saturn’s offspring Time, full many a change create.

I. 2.

Follow the plain and beaten way, From Justice, O my country, never stray, Nor cease the powers immortal to revere. To heights scarce short of frenzy rise The errors of that mortal, who denies Assent to truths confirmed by proofs so clear. Jove’s power by signal judgments is descried, Oft as his vengeance blasts the towering crest of pride.

II. 1.

In heavenly mansions with the blest, Thy son, O venerable dame, doth rest; He hath confuted those invidious tales, That to loathed Pluto’s house he came Soon as he perished in that dreadful flame: He under roofs of burnished gold regales, On the soft couch of lovely Hebe placed; Them two, both sprung from Jove, O Hymen, thou hast graced.

II. 2.

Events, which strike man’s wondering eyes, From a variety of causes rise. For fame relates how Pallas saved the sire, And from her city far renowned, Her race, protection have the children found; She hath suppressed th’ o’erweening tyrant’s ire, Whose violence no laws could ere control; Curse on such boundless pride, that fever of the soul.

MESSENGER, EURYSTHEUS, ALCMENA, CHORUS.

MES. Your eyes indeed behold, O royal dame, Yet shall this tongue declare that we have brought Eurystheus hither, unexpected sight, Reverse of fortune his presumptuous soul Foresaw not, this oppressor little deemed That he should ever fall into your hands, When from Mycene, by the Cyclops’ toil Erected, he those squadrons led, and hoped With pride o’erweening to lay Athens waste; But Heaven our situation hath reversed: And therefore with exulting Hyllus joins The valiant Iolaus, in erecting Trophies to Jove the author of our conquest. But they to you commanded me to lead This captive, wishing to delight your soul: For ’tis most grateful to behold a foe Fall’n from the height of gay prosperity.

ALC. Com’st thou, detested wretch? at length hath Justice O’ertaken thee? First hither turn thy head, And dare to face thine enemies: for, dwindled Into a vassal, thou no longer rul’st. Art thou the man (for I would know the truth) Who didst presume to heap unnumbered wrongs, Thou author of all mischief, on my son While yet he lived, wherever now resides His dauntless spirit? For in what one instance Didst thou not injure him? At thy command, Alive he travelled to th’ infernal shades; Thou sent’st, and didst commission him to slay Hydras and lions. Various other mischiefs, Which were by thee contrived, I mention not, For an attempt to speak of them at large Would be full tedious. Nor was it enough For thee to venture on these wrongs alone, But thou, moreover, from each Grecian state Me and these children hast expelled, though seated As suppliants at the altars of the gods, Confounding those whose locks are grey through age With tender infants. But thou here hast found Those who were men indeed, and a free city Which feared thee not. Thou wretchedly shalt perish, And pay this bitter usury to atone For all thy crimes, whose number is so great That it were just thou more than once shouldst die.

MES. You must not kill him.

ALC. Then have we in vain Taken him captive. But what law forbids His being slain?

MES. The rulers of this land Consent not.

ALC. Is it not by them esteemed A glorious action to despatch our foes?

MES. Not such as they have seized alive in battle.

ALC. Is Hyllus satisfied with this decree?

MES. He, in my judgment, will forsooth act rightly, If he oppose what Athens shall enjoin.

ALC. The captive tyrant ill deserves to live, Or longer view the sun.

MES. In this first instance They did amiss, when by their swords he died not.

ALC. Is it not just that he should suffer still?

MES. He who will slay him is not to be found.

ALC. What shall I say if some adventurous hand——

MES. If you do this, you will incur great censure.

ALC. I love this city, I confess: but no man, Since he is fall’n into my power, shall force This prisoner from me: let them call me bold And more presumptuous than becomes a woman, I am resolved to execute my purpose.

MES. Full well I know the hatred which you bear To this unhappy man is terrible, And such as merits pardon.

EUR. Be convinced Of this, O woman, that I cannot flatter, Nor to preserve this wretched life say aught, Whence they may brand me with a dastard’s name. For I with much reluctance undertook This contest; near in blood am I to thee, And of that race whence sprung thy son Alcides. But whether I consented, or was loth, Me Juno caused by her immortal power To harbour this dire frenzy in my breast. Since I became his foe, since I resolved Upon this strife, much mischief I devised, And brooded o’er it many a tedious night, That after I had wearied out and slain Those I abhorred, I might no longer lead A life of fear: for well I knew thy son Was no mere cipher, but a man indeed: Though strong my hate, on him will I confer The praise he merits from his valiant deeds. But after he was dead, was I not forced, Because I was a foe to these his sons, And knew what bitter enmity ’gainst me They from their sire inherited, to leave No stone unturned, to slay, to banish them, And plot their ruin? Could I have succeeded In these designs, my throne had stood secure. If thou my prosperous station hadst obtained, Wouldst thou not have attempted to hunt down The lion’s whelps, instead of suffering them At Argos unmolested to reside? Thou canst prevail on no man to give credit To such assertions: therefore, since my foes Forbore to slay me, when prepared to lose My life in battle, by the laws of Greece, If I now die, my blood will fix a stain Of lasting guilt on him who murders me. This city hath discreetly spared my life, More influenced by its reverence for the gods Than by the hatred which to me it bears. My answer to the charges thou hast urged Against me, having heard, esteem me now A suppliant, and though wretched, still a king, For such is my condition: though to die I wish not, yet can I without regret Surrender up my life.

CHOR. To you, Alcmena, A little wholesome counsel would I give, This captive monarch to release, since such The pleasure of the city.

ALC. If he die, And to the mandates of th’ Athenian realm I still submit, what mischief can ensue?

CHOR. ’Twere best of all. But how can these two things Be reconciled?

ALC. I will inform you how This may with ease be done. I, to his friends, When slain will yield him up, and with this land Comply in the disposal of his corse: But he shall die to sate my just revenge.

EUR. Destroy me if thou wilt; to thee I sue not: But on this city, since it spared my life Through pious reverence, and forbore to slay me, Will I bestow an ancient oracle Of Phœbus, which in future times shall prove More advantageous than ye now suppose; For after death, so have the Fates decreed, My corse shall ye inter before the temple Of the Pallenian maid: to you a friend And guardian of your city, shall I rest Beneath this soil for ever; but a foe To those who spring from this detested race When with their armies they invade this land Requiting with ingratitude your kindness: Such strangers ye protect. But thus forewarned, Why came I hither? Through a fond belief That Juno was with far superior power To each oracular response endued, And that my cause she ne’er would have betrayed. On me waste no libations, nor let gore Be poured forth on the spot of my interment, For I to punish these their impious deeds, Will cause them with dishonour to return: From me shall ye receive a double gain, For you I will assist, and prove to them Most baneful e’en in death.

ALC. Why are ye loth To slay this man, if what ye hear be true, That welfare to this city hence will spring, And your prosperity? For he points out The safest road. Alive he is a foe, But after he is dead will prove a friend. Ye servants bear him hence, and to the dogs Cast forth without delay his breathless corse: Think not, presumptuous wretch, that thou shalt live Again t’ expel me from my native land.

CHOR. With this am I well pleased. My followers, go. For hence in our king’s sight shall we stand guiltless.

RHESUS.

PERSONS OF THE DRAMA.

CHORUS OF TROJAN SENTINELS. HECTOR. ÆNEAS. DOLON. A SHEPHERD. RHESUS. ULYSSES. DIOMEDE. PARIS. MINERVA. THE MUSE. THE CHARIOTEER OF RHESUS.

SCENE.—BEFORE HECTOR’S TENT AT THE GATES OF TROY.

CHORUS, HECTOR.

CHOR. Let some swift sentinel to Hector’s tent Go and inquire if any messenger Be yet arrived, who recent tidings bears From those, who during the fourth nightly watch Are by the host deputed. On your arm Sustain your head, unfold those low’ring eyelids, And from your lowly couch of withered leaves, O Hector, rise, for it is time to listen.

HEC. Who comes? art thou a friend? pronounce the watchword. Who are ye, that by night approach my bed? Speak out.

CHOR. We guard the camp.

HEC. Why com’st thou hither With this tumultuous haste?

CHOR. Be of good cheer.

HEC. I am. Hast thou discovered in the camp This night some treachery?

CHOR. None.

HEC. Why then deserting The post where thou art stationed, dost thou rouse The troops, unless thou through this midnight gloom Bring some important tidings? know’st thou not That near the Argive host we under arms Take our repose.

CHOR. Prepare your brave allies: Go to their chambers, bid them wield the spear, Rouse them from slumber, and despatch your friends To your own troop; caparison the steeds. Who bears the swift alarm to Pantheus’ son? Who to Europa’s offspring, Lycia’s chief? Where are the priests who should inspect the victims? Who leads the light-armed squadron to the field? And where are Phrygia’s archers? Let each bow Be strung.

HEC. Thy tidings are in part alarming, In part thou giv’st us courage, though thou speak Nought plainly. By the terrifying scourge Of Pan hast thou been smitten, that thou leav’st Thy station to alarm the host? Explain These clamorous sounds. What tidings shall I say Thou bring’st? Thy words are many, but their drift I comprehend not.

CHOR. All night long, O Hector, The Grecian camp hath kindled fires, the torches Amid their fleet are blazing, and the host Tumultuous rush to Agamemnon’s tent, At midnight calling on the king t’ assemble A council: for the sailors never yet Were thus alarmed. But I, because I fear What may ensue, these tidings hither bring, Lest you should charge me with a breach of duty.

HEC. Full seasonably thou com’st, although thou speak Words fraught with terror: for these dastards hope They in their barks shall from this shore escape Ere I discover them: their kindled fires Prove this suspicion. Thou, O partial Jove, Hast robbed me of my triumph, like the prey Torn from the lion, ere I have destroyed With this avenging spear the Grecian host. Had not the sun withdrawn his radiant beams, I the successful battle had prolonged Till I had burnt their ships, and hewn a way Through their encampments, and in slaughter drenched My bloody hand. I would have fought by night And taken my advantage of the gales Sent by auspicious fortune: but the wise, And seers who knew the will of Heaven, advised me To wait but till to-morrow’s dawn appeared, And then sweep every Grecian from the land. But now no longer will they stay to prove The truth of what my prophets have foretold: For cowards in the midnight gloom are brave. Instantly therefore through the host proclaim These orders: “Take up arms, and rouse from sleep;” Pierced through the back as to the ships he flies, So shall full many a dastard with his gore Distain the steep ascent; the rest fast bound In galling chains shall learn to till our fields.

CHOR. O Hector, ere you learn the real fact, You are too hasty: for we know not yet That they are flying.

HEC. Wherefore then by night Are those fires kindled through the Grecian camp?

CHOR. I am not certain, though my soul full strongly Suspects the cause.

HEC. If thou fear this, thou tremblest At a mere shadow.

CHOR. Such a light ne’er blazed Before among the foes.

HEC. Nor such defeat In battle, did they e’er till now experience.

CHOR. This have you done; look now to what remains.

HEC. I give this short direction: take up arms Against the foe.

CHOR. Behold! Æneas comes: Sure, from his haste, some tidings, which deserve His friends’ attentive ear, the warrior brings.

ÆNEAS, HECTOR, CHORUS.

ÆNE. What mean the watch, O Hector, who by night Were to their stations in the camp assigned, That they, with terror smitten, at your chamber In a nocturnal council have assembled? And why is the whole army thus in motion?

HEC. Put on thy arms, Æneas.

ÆNE. What hath happened? Are you informed that in this midnight gloom The foe hath formed some stratagem?

HEC. They fly! They mount their ships.

ÆNE. What proof have you of this?

HEC. All night their torches blaze; to me they seem As if they would not wait to-morrow’s dawn: But, kindling fires upon their lofty decks, They sure fly homeward from this hostile land.

ÆNE. But why, if it be thus, prepare your troops For battle?

HEC. As they mount the deck, this spear Shall overtake the dastards; I their flight Will harass: for ’twere base, and prejudicial As well as base, when Heaven delivers up The foe into our hands, to suffer those Who wronged us to escape without a conflict.

ÆNE. Ah! would to Heaven you equally stood foremost In wisdom, as in courage: but one man By bounteous Nature never was endued With knowledge universal: various gifts Doth she dispense, to you the warrior’s palm, To others sapient counsels: now you hear Their torches blaze, you thence infer the Greeks Are flying, and would lead the troops by night Over the trenches: but when you have passed The yawning fosse, should you perceive the foes Instead of flying from the land, resist, With dauntless courage, your protended spear, If you are vanquished, to these sheltering walls You never can return: for in their flight How shall the troops o’er slanting palisades Escape, or, how the charioteer direct Over the narrow bridge his crashing wheels? If you prevail, you have a foe at hand, The son of Peleus, from your flaming torches Who will protect the fleet, nor suffer you Utterly to destroy the Grecian host As you expect; for he is brave. Our troops Let us then leave to rest from martial toils, And sleep beside their shields. That we despatch Amid the foe some voluntary spy, Is my advice: if they prepare for flight, Let us assail the Greeks; but if those fires Are kindled to ensnare us, having learned The enemy’s intentions, let us hold A second council on this great emprise. Illustrious chief, I have declared my thoughts.

CHORUS.