Would G.o.d that any of you had all the praise And I no manner of memory when I die, So might I show before her perfect eyes Pure, whom I follow, a maiden to my death.

But for the rest let all have all they will; For is it a grief to you that I have part, Being woman merely, in your male might and deeds Done by main strength? yet in my body is throned As great a heart, and in my spirit, O men, I have not less of G.o.dlike. Evil it were That one a coward should mix with you, one hand Fearful, one eye abase itself; and these Well might ye hate and well revile, not me.

For not the difference of the several flesh Being vile or n.o.ble or beautiful or base Makes praiseworthy, but purer spirit and heart Higher than these meaner mouths and limbs, that feed, Rise, rest, and are and are not; and for me, What should I say? but by the G.o.ds of the world And this my maiden body, by all oaths That bind the tongue of men and the evil will, I am not mighty-minded, nor desire Crowns, nor the spoil of slain things nor the fame; Feed ye on these, eat and wax fat, cry out, Laugh, having eaten, and leap without a lyre, Sing, mix the wind with clamour, smite and shake Sonorous timbrels and tumultuous hair, And fill the dance up with tempestuous feet, For I will none; but having prayed my prayers And made thank-offering for prosperities, I shall go hence and no man see me more.

What thing is this for you to shout me down, What, for a man to grudge me this my life As it were envious of all yours, and I A thief of reputations? nay, for now, If there be any highest in heaven, a G.o.d Above all thrones and thunders of the G.o.ds Throned, and the wheel of the world roll under him, Judge he between me and all of you, and see It I transgress at all: but ye, refrain Transgressing hands and reinless mouths, and keep Silence, lest by much foam of violent words And proper poison of your lips ye die.

OENEUS.

O flower of Tegea, maiden, fleetest foot And holiest head of women, have good cheer Of thy good words: but ye, depart with her In peace and reverence, each with blameless eye Following his fate; exalt your hands and hearts, Strike, cease not, arrow on arrow and wound on wound, And go with G.o.ds and with the G.o.ds return.

CHORUS.

Who hath given man speech? or who hath set therein A thorn for peril and a snare for sin?

For in the word his life is and his breath, And in the word his death, That madness and the infatuate heart may breed From the word's womb the deed And life bring one thing forth ere all pa.s.s by, Even one thing which is ours yet cannot die-- Death. Hast thou seen him ever anywhere, Time's twin-born brother, imperishable as he Is perishable and plaintive, clothed with care And mutable as sand, But death is strong and full of blood and fair And perdurable and like a lord of land?

Nay, time thou seest not, death thou wilt not see Till life's right hand be loosened from thine hand And thy life-days from thee.

For the G.o.ds very subtly fashion Madness with sadness upon earth: Not knowing in any wise compa.s.sion, Nor holding pity of any worth; And many things they have given and taken, And wrought and ruined many things; The firm land have they loosed and shaken, And sealed the sea with all her springs; They have wearied time with heavy burdens And vexed the lips of life with breath: Set men to labour and given them guerdons, Death, and great darkness after death: Put moans into the bridal measure And on the bridal wools a stain, And circled pain about with pleasure, And girdled pleasure about with pain; And strewed one marriage-bed with tears and fire For extreme loathing and supreme desire.

What shall be done with all these tears of ours?

Shall they make watersprings in the fair heaven To bathe the brows of morning? or like flowers Be shed and shine before the starriest hours, Or made the raiment of the weeping Seven?

Or rather, O our masters, shall they be Food for the famine of the grievous sea, A great well-head of lamentation Satiating the sad G.o.ds? or fall and flow Among the years and seasons to and fro, And wash their feet with tribulation And fill them full with grieving ere they go?

Alas, our lords, and yet alas again, Seeing all your iron heaven is gilt as gold But all we smite thereat in vain, Smite the gates barred with groanings manifold, But all the floors are paven with our pain.

Yea, and with weariness of lips and eyes, With breaking of the bosom, and with sighs, We labour, and are clad and fed with grief And filled with days we would not fain behold And nights we would not hear of, we wax old, All we wax old and wither like a leaf.

We are outcast, strayed between bright sun and moon; Our light and darkness are as leaves of flowers, Black flowers and white, that perish; and the noon-- As midnight, and the night as daylight hours.

A little fruit a little while is ours, And the worm finds it soon.

But up in heaven the high G.o.ds one by one Lay hands upon the draught that quickeneth, Fulfilled with all tears shed and all things done, And stir with soft imperishable breath The bubbling bitterness of life and death, And hold it to our lips and laugh; but they Preserve their lips from tasting night or day, Lest they too change and sleep, the fates that spun, The lips that made us and the hands that slay; Lest all these change, and heaven bow down to none, Change and be subject to the secular sway And terrene revolution of the sun.

Therefore they thrust it from them, putting time away.

I would the wine of time, made sharp and sweet With mult.i.tudinous days and nights and tears And many mixing savours of strange years, Were no more trodden of them under feet, Cast out and spilt about their holy places: That life were given them as a fruit to eat And death to drink as water; that the light Might ebb, drawn backward from their eyes, and night Hide for one hour the imperishable faces.

That they might rise up sad in heaven, and know Sorrow and sleep, one paler than young snow, One cold as blight of dew and ruinous rain, Rise up and rest and suffer a little, and be Awhile as all things born with us and we, And grieve as men, and like slain men be slain.

For now we know not of them; but one saith The G.o.ds are gracious, praising G.o.d; and one, When hast thou seen? or hast thou felt his breath Touch, nor consume thine eyelids as the sun, Nor fill thee to the lips with fiery death?

None hath beheld him, none Seen above other G.o.ds and shapes of things, Swift without feet and flying without wings, Intolerable, not clad with death or life, Insatiable, not known of night or day, The lord of love and loathing and of strife Who gives a star and takes a sun away; Who shapes the soul, and makes her a barren wife To the earthly body and grievous growth of clay; Who turns the large limbs to a little flame And binds the great sea with a little sand; Who makes desire, and slays desire with shame; Who shakes the heaven as ashes in his hand; Who, seeing the light and shadow for the same, Bids day waste night as fire devours a brand, Smites without sword, and scourges without rod; The supreme evil, G.o.d.

Yea, with thine hate, O G.o.d, thou hast covered us, One saith, and hidden our eyes away from sight, And made us transitory and hazardous, Light things and slight; Yet have men praised thee, saying, He hath made man thus, And he doeth right.

Thou hast kissed us, and hast smitten; thou hast laid Upon us with thy left hand life, and said, Live: and again thou hast said, Yield up your breath, And with thy right hand laid upon us death.

Thou hast sent us sleep, and stricken sleep with dreams, Saying, Joy is not, but love of joy shall be, Thou hast made sweet springs for all the pleasant streams, In the end thou hast made them bitter with the sea.

Thou hast fed one rose with dust of many men; Thou hast marred one face with fire of many tears; Thou hast taken love, and given us sorrow again; With pain thou hast filled us full to the eyes and ears.

Therefore because thou art strong, our father, and we Feeble; and thou art against us, and thine hand Constrains us in the shallows of the sea And breaks us at the limits of the land; Because thou hast bent thy lightnings as a bow, And loosed the hours like arrows; and let fall Sins and wild words and many a winged woe And wars among us, and one end of all; Because thou hast made the thunder, and thy feet Are as a rushing water when the skies Break, but thy face as an exceeding heat And flames of fire the eyelids of thine eyes; Because thou art over all who are over us; Because thy name is life and our name death; Because thou art cruel and men are piteous, And our hands labour and thine hand scattereth; Lo, with hearts rent and knees made tremulous, Lo, with ephemeral lips and casual breath, At least we witness of thee ere we die That these things are not otherwise, but thus; That each man in his heart sigheth, and saith, That all men even as I, All we are against thee, against thee, O G.o.d most high, But ye, keep ye on earth Your lips from over-speech, Loud words and longing are so little worth; And the end is hard to reach.

For silence after grievous things is good, And reverence, and the fear that makes men whole, And shame, and righteous governance of blood, And lordship of the soul.

But from sharp words and wits men pluck no fruit, And gathering thorns they shake the tree at root; For words divide and rend; But silence is most n.o.ble till the end.

ALTHAEA.

I heard within the house a cry of news And came forth eastward hither, where the dawn, Cheers first these warder G.o.ds that face the sun And next our eyes unrisen; for unaware Came clashes of swift hoofs and trampling feet And through the windy pillared corridor Light sharper than the frequent flames of day That daily fill it from the fiery dawn; Gleams, and a thunder of people that cried out, And dust and hurrying hors.e.m.e.n; lo their chief, That rode with Oeneus rein by rein, returned.

What cheer, O herald of my lord the king?

HERALD.

Lady, good cheer and great; the boar is slain.

CHORUS.

Praised be all G.o.ds that look toward Calydon.

ALTHAEA.

Good news and brief; but by whose happier hand?

HERALD.

A maiden's and a prophet's and thy son's.

ALTHAEA.

Well fare the spear that severed him and life.

HERALD.

Thine own, and not an alien, hast thou blest

ALTHAEA.

Twice be thou too for my sake blest and his.

HERALD.

At the king's word I rode afoam for thine.

ALTHAEA.

Thou sayest he tarrieth till they bring the spoil?

HERALD.

Hard by the quarry, where they breathe, O queen.

ALTHAEA.