POLYPHONTES
Hatred and passionate Envy blind thine eyes.
MEROPE
O Heaven-abandon’d wretch, that envies thee!
POLYPHONTES
Thou hold’st so cheap, then, the Messenian crown? 1790
MEROPE
I think on what the future hath in store.
POLYPHONTES
To-day I reign: the rest I leave to Fate.
MEROPE
For Fate thou wait’st not long; since, in this hour ——
POLYPHONTES
What? for so far she hath not prov’d my foe —
MEROPE
Fate seals my lips, and drags to ruin thee. 1795
POLYPHONTES
Enough! enough! I will no longer hear
The ill-boding note which frantic Envy sounds
To affright a fortune which the Gods secure.
Once more my friendship thou rejectest: well!
More for this land’s sake grieve I, than mine own. 1800
I chafe not with thee, that thy hate endures,
Nor bend myself too low, to make it yield.
What I have done is done; by my own deed,
Neither exulting nor asham’d, I stand.
Why should this heart of mine set mighty store 1805
By the construction and report of men?
Not men’s good-word hath made me what I am.
Alone I master’d power; and alone,
Since so thou wilt, I will maintain it still.
POLYPHONTES goes out.
THE CHORUS
Did I then waver str. 1. 1810
(O woman’s judgement!)
Misled by seeming
Success of crime?
And ask, if sometimes
The Gods, perhaps, allow’d you, 1815
O lawless daring of the strong,
O self-will recklessly indulg’d?
Not time, not lightning, ant. 1.
Not rain, not thunder,
Efface the endless 1820
Decrees of Heaven —
Make Justice alter,
Revoke, assuage her sentence,
Which dooms dread ends to dreadful deeds,
And violent deaths to violent men. 1825
But the signal example str. 2.
Of invariableness of justice
Our glorious founder
Hercules gave us,
Son lov’d of Zeus his father: for he err’d, 1830
And the strand of Euboea, ant. 2.
And the promontory of Cenaeum,
His painful, solemn
Punishment witness’d,
Beheld his expiation: for he died. 1835
O villages of Oeta str. 3.
With hedges of the wild rose!
O pastures of the mountain,
Of short grass, beaded with dew,
Between the pine-woods and the cliffs! 1840
O cliffs, left by the eagles,
On that morn, when the smoke-cloud
From the oak-built, fiercely-burning pyre,
Up the precipices of Trachis,
Drove them screaming from their eyries! 1845
A willing, a willing sacrifice on that day
Ye witness’d, ye mountain lawns,
When the shirt-wrapt, poison-blister’d Hero
Ascended, with undaunted heart,
Living, his own funeral-pile, 1850
And stood, shouting for a fiery torch;
And the kind, chance-arriv’d Wanderer,
The inheritor of the bow,
Coming swiftly through the sad Trachinians,
Put the torch to the pile: 1855
That the flame tower’d on high to the Heaven
Bearing with it, to Olympus,
To the side of Hebe,
To immortal delight,
The labour-releas’d Hero. 1860
O heritage of Neleus, ant. 3.
Ill-kept by his infirm heirs!
O kingdom of Messenê,
Of rich soil, chosen by craft,
Possess’d in hatred, lost in blood! 1865
O town, high Stenyclaros,
With new walls, which the victors
From the four-town’d, mountain-shadow’d Doris,
For their Hercules-issu’d princes
Built in strength against the vanquish’d! 1870
Another, another sacrifice on this day
Ye witness, ye new-built towers!
When the white-rob’d, garland-crowned Monarch
Approaches, with undoubting heart,
Living, his own sacrifice-block, 1875
And stands, shouting for a slaughterous axe;
And the stern, Destiny-brought Stranger,
The inheritor of the realm,
Coming swiftly through the jocund Dorians,
Drives the axe to its goal: 1880
That the blood rushes in streams to the dust;
Bearing with it, to Erinnys,
To the Gods of Hades,
To the dead unaveng’d,
The fiercely-requir’d Victim. 1885
Knowing he did it, unknowing pays for it.epode.
Unknowing, unknowing,
Thinking aton’d-for
Deeds unatonable,
Thinking appeas’d 1890
Gods unappeasable,
Lo, the Ill-fated One,
Standing for harbour,
Right at the harbour-mouth,
Strikes, with all sail set, 1895
Full on the sharp-pointed
Needle of ruin!
A MESSENGER comes in.
MESSENGER
O honour’d Queen, O faithful followers
Of your dead master’s line, I bring you news
To make the gates of this long-mournful house 1900
Leap, and fly open of themselves for joy!
noise and shouting heard.
Hark how the shouting crowds tramp hitherward
With glad acclaim! Ere they forestall my news,
Accept it: — Polyphontes is no more.
MEROPE
Is my son safe? that question bounds my care. 1905
MESSENGER
He is, and by the people hail’d for king.
MEROPE
The rest to me is little: yet, since that
Must from some mouth be heard, relate it thou.
MESSENGER
Not little, if thou saw’st what love, what zeal,
At thy dead husband’s name the people show. 1910
For when this morning in the public square
I took my stand, and saw the unarm’d crowds
Of citizens in holiday attire,
Women and children intermix’d; and then,
Group’d around Zeus’s altar, all in arms, 1915
Serried and grim, the ring of Dorian lords —
I trembled for our prince and his attempt.
Silence and expectation held us all:
Till presently the King came forth, in robe
Of sacrifice, his guards clearing the way 1920
Before him — at his side, the prince, thy son,
Unarm’d and travel-soil’d, just as he was:
With him conferring the King slowly reach’d
The altar in the middle of the square,
Where, by the sacrificing minister, 1925
The flower-dress’d victim stood, a milk-white bull,
Swaying from side to side his massy head
With short impatient lowings: there he stopp’d,
And seem’d to muse awhile, then rais’d his eyes
To Heaven, and laid his hand upon the steer, 1930
And cried — O Zeus, let what blood-guiltiness
Yet stains our land be by this blood wash’d out,
And grant henceforth to the Messenians peace!
That moment, while with upturn’d eyes he pray’d,
The prince snatch’d from the sacrificer’s hand 1935
The axe, and on the f
orehead of the King,
Where twines the chaplet, dealt a mighty blow
Which fell’d him to the earth, and o’er him stood,
And shouted — Since by thee defilement came,
What blood so meet as thine to wash it out? 1940
What hand to strike thee meet as mine, the hand
Of Aepytus, thy murder’d master’s son? —
But, gazing at him from the ground, the King …
Is it, then, thou? he murmur’d; and with that,
He bow’d his head, and deeply groan’d, and died. 1945
Till then we all seem’d stone: but then a cry
Broke from the Dorian lords: forward they rush’d
To circle the prince round: when suddenly
Laias in arms sprang to his nephew’s side,
Crying — O ye Messenians, will ye leave 1950
The son to perish as ye left the sire?
And from that moment I saw nothing clear:
For from all sides a deluge, as it seem’d,
Burst o’er the altar and the Dorian lords,
Of holiday-clad citizens transform’d 1955
To armèd warriors: I heard vengeful cries;
I heard the clash of weapons; then I saw
The Dorians lying dead, thy son hail’d king.
And, truly, one who sees, what seem’d so strong,
The power of this tyrant and his lords, 1960
Melt like a passing smoke, a nightly dream,
At one bold word, one enterprising blow —
Might ask, why we endur’d their yoke so long:
But that we know how every perilous feat
Of daring, easy as it seems when done, 1965
Is easy at no moment but the right.
THE CHORUS
Thou speakest well; but here, to give our eyes
Authentic proof of what thou tell’st our ears,
The conquerors, with the King’s dead body, come.
AEPYTUS, LAIAS, and ARCAS come in with the dead body of POLYPHONTES, followed by a crowd of the MESSENIANS.
LAIAS
Sister, from this day forth thou art no more 1970
The widow of a husband unaveng’d,
The anxious mother of an exil’d son.
Thine enemy is slain, thy son is king!
Rejoice with us! and trust me, he who wish’d
Welfare to the Messenian state, and calm, 1975
Could find no way to found them sure as this.
AEPYTUS
Mother, all these approve me: but if thou
Approve not too, I have but half my joy.
MEROPE
O Aepytus, my son, behold, behold
This iron man, my enemy and thine, 1980
This politic sovereign, lying at our feet,
With blood-bespatter’d robes, and chaplet shorn!
Inscrutable as ever, see, it keeps
Its sombre aspect of majestic care,
Of solitary thought, unshar’d resolve, 1985
Even in death, that countenance austere.
So look’d he, when to Stenyclaros first,
A new-made wife, I from Arcadia came,
And found him at my husband’s side, his friend,
His kinsman, his right hand in peace and war; 1990
Unsparing in his service of his toil,
His blood; to me, for I confess it, kind:
So look’d he in that dreadful day of death:
So, when he pleaded for our league but now.
What meantest thou, O Polyphontes, what 1995
Desired’st thou, what truly spurr’d thee on?
Was policy of state, the ascendancy
Of the Heracleidan conquerors, as thou said’st,
Indeed thy lifelong passion and sole aim?
Or did’st thou but, as cautions schemers use, 2000
Cloak thine ambition with these specious words?
I know not; just, in either case, the stroke
Which laid thee low, for blood requires blood:
But yet, not knowing this, I triumph not
Over thy corpse, triumph not, neither mourn; 2005
For I find worth in thee, and badness too.
What mood of spirit, therefore, shall we call
The true one of a man — what way of life
His fix’d condition and perpetual walk?
None, since a twofold colour reigns in all. 2010
But thou, my son, study to make prevail
One colour in thy life, the hue of truth:
That Justice, that sage Order, not alone
Natural Vengeance, may maintain thine act,
And make it stand indeed the will of Heaven. 2015
Thy father’s passion was this people’s ease,
This people’s anarchy, thy foe’s pretence;
As the chiefs rule, indeed, the people are:
Unhappy people, where the chiefs themselves
Are, like the mob, vicious and ignorant! 2020
So rule, that even thine enemies may fail
To find in thee a fault whereon to found,
Of tyrannous harshness, or remissness weak:
So rule, that as thy father thou be lov’d;
So rule, that as thy foe thou be obey’d. 2025
Take these, my son, over thine enemy’s corpse
Thy mother’s prayers: and this prayer last of all,
That even in thy victory thou show,
Mortal, the moderation of a man.
AEPYTUS
O mother, my best diligence shall be 2030
In all by thy experience to be rul’d
Where my own youth falls short. But, Laias, now,
First work after such victory, let us go
To render to my true Messenians thanks,
To the Gods grateful sacrifice; and then, 2035
Assume the ensigns of my father’s power.
THE CHORUS
Son of Cresphontes, past what perils
Com’st thou, guided safe, to thy home!
What things daring! what enduring!
And all this by the will of the Gods. 2040
POEMS FROM MAGAZINES
CONTENTS
Men of Genius
Saint Brandan
A Southern Night
Thyrsis
Men of Genius
SILENT, the Lord of the world
Eyes from the heavenly height,
Girt by his far-shining train,
Us, who with banners unfurl’d
Fight life’s many-chanc’d fight 5
Madly below, in the plain.
Then saith the Lord to his own: —
‘See ye the battle below?
Turmoil of death and of birth!
Too long let we them groan. 10
Haste, arise ye, and go;
Carry my peace upon earth.’
Gladly they rise at his call;
Gladly they take his command;
Gladly descend to the plain. 15
Alas! How few of them all —
Those willing servants — shall stand
In their Master’s presence again!
Some in the tumult are lost:
Baffled, bewilder’d, they stray. 20
Some as prisoners draw breath.
Others — the bravest — are cross’d,
On the height of their bold-follow’d way,
By the swift-rushing missile of Death.
Hardly, hardly shall one 25
Come, with countenance bright,
O’er the cloud-wrapt, perilous plain:
His Master’s errand well done,
Safe through the smoke of the fight,
Back to his Master again. 30
Saint Brandan
SAINT BRANDAN sails the northern main;
The brotherhoods of saints are glad.
He greets them once, he sails again.
So late! — such storms! — The Saint is mad!
He heard across th
e howling seas 5
Chime convent bells on wintry nights,
He saw on spray-swept Hebrides
Twinkle the monastery lights;
But north, still north, Saint Brandan steer’d;
And now no bells, no convents more! 10
The hurtling Polar lights are near’d,
The sea without a human shore.
At last — (it was the Christmas night,
Stars shone after a day of storm) —
He sees float past an iceberg white, 15
And on it — Christ! — a living form!
That furtive mien, that scowling eye,
Of hair that red and tufted fell ——
It is — Oh, where shall Brandan fly? —
The traitor Judas, out of hell! 20
Palsied with terror, Brandan sate;
The moon was bright, the iceberg near.
He hears a voice sigh humbly: ‘Wait!
By high permission I am here.
‘One moment wait, thou holy man! 25
On earth my crime, my death, they knew;
My name is under all men’s ban;
Ah, tell them of my respite too!
‘Tell them, one blessed Christmas night —
(It was the first after I came, 30
Breathing self-murder, frenzy, spite,
To rue my guilt in endless flame) —
‘I felt, as I in torment lay
‘Mid the souls plagued by heavenly power,
An angel touch mine arm, and say: 35
Go hence, and cool thyself an hour!
‘“Ah, whence this mercy, Lord?” I said.
The Leper recollect, said he,
Who ask’d the passers-by for aid,
In Joppa, and thy charity. 40
‘Then I remember’d how I went,
In Joppa, through the public street,
One morn, when the sirocco spent
Its storms of dust, with burning heat;
‘And in the street a Leper sate, 45
Shivering with fever, naked, old;
Sand raked his sores from heel to pate,
The hot wind fever’d him five-fold.
‘He gazed upon me as I pass’d,
And murmur’d: Help me, or I die! — 50
To the poor wretch my cloak I cast,
Saw him look eased, and hurried by.
Delphi Complete Poetical Works of Matthew Arnold Page 36