A short outburst of triumph from the Chorus: then the {1180}

EXODUS

begins with the approach of the Maenads, Agave bearing her son's head on a thyrsus. In a brief _lyric concerto_ between her and the mocking Chorus her phrensied triumph is brought out, and how she takes the bleeding object to be head of a young lion. At that moment the trumpet sounds, and the army that had been summoned appears at the Electran gate. Agave turns to them, and (in blank verse) calls all Thebans to behold the quarry she has taken without the useless weapons of the hunter; it shall be nailed up a trophy before her father's house.

_Shortly after enters on the right a melancholy procession of Cadmus and his servants bearing the fragments of Pentheus' body, with difficulty discovered and pieced together_. In extended parallel dialogue between Cadmus and Evadne the phrensy gradually pa.s.ses away from her and she recognizes the deed she has done. Cadmus sums up the final situation: all the house enwrapped in one dread doom. The Chorus sympathize with Cadmus, but have no pity for Agave. She then follows with a rhesis of woe, interrupted by {1365}

DIVINE INTERVENTION

Dionysus appears aloft, in divine form. The MSS. are defective here: from what we have the G.o.d appears to be painting the future of Cadmus: life in a dragon form, victories at the head of barbarian hosts, finally the Isles of the Blest. Agave as stained with blood is banished the land, vainly imploring the G.o.d's mercy. With lamentations at the thought of exile, which is the lot of both, the play ends.

[1] The quotations are from Milman's translation in Routledge's Universal Library.

Pa.s.sAGES

1

_Evolution of human life_

_Prometheus._ List rather to the deeds I did for mortals: how, being fools before I made them wise and true in aim of soul, And let me tell you--not as taunting men, But teaching you the intention of my gifts-- How, first beholding, they beheld in vain, And hearing, heard not, but like shapes in dreams Mixed all things wildly down the tedious time; Nor knew to build a house against the sun With wicketed sides, nor any woodcraft knew, But lived, like silly ants, beneath the ground, In hollow caves unsunned. There came to them No steadfast sign of winter nor of spring, Flower perfumed, nor summer full of fruit; But blindly and lawlessly they did all things, Until I taught them how the stars do rise And set in mystery, and devised for them Number, the inducer of philosophies, The synthesis of letters, and, beside, The artificer of all things, Memory, That sweet Muse-Mother. I was first to yoke The servile beasts in couples, carrying An heirdom of man's burdens on their backs.

I joined to chariots steeds that love the bit They clamp at--the chief pomp of golden ease.

And none but I originated ships, The seaman's chariots wandering on the brine, With linen wings. And I--oh miserable!-- Who did devise for mortals all these arts, Have no device left now to save myself From the woe I suffer.

_Chorus._ Most unseemly woe Thou sufferest, and dost stagger from the sense Bewildered! like a bad leech falling sick, Thou art faint at soul, and canst not find the drugs Required to save thyself.

_Prometheus._ Hearken the rest, And marvel further, what more arts and means I did invent, this greatest: if a man Fell sick there was no cure, nor esculent, Nor chrism, nor liquid, but for lack of drugs Men pined and wasted, till I showed them all Those mixtures of emollient remedies, Whereby they might be rescued from disease, I fixed the various rules of mantic art, Discerned the vision from the common dream, Instructed them in vocal auguries, Hard to interpret, and defined as plain The wayside omens--flights of crook-clawed birds-- Showed which are, by their nature, fortunate, And which not so, and what the food of each, And what the hates, affections, social needs, Of all to one another,--taught what sign Of visceral lightness, colored to a shade, May charm the genial G.o.ds, and what fair spots Commend the lung and liver. Burning so The limbs encased in fat, and the long chine, I led my mortals on to an art abstruse, And cleared their eyes to the image in the fire, Erst filmed in dark. Enough said now of this: For the other helps of man hid underground, The iron and the bra.s.s, silver and gold, Can any dare affirm he found them out Before me? None, I know, unless he choose To lie in his vaunt. In one word learn the whole: That all arts come to mortals from Prometheus.

Aeschylus: _Prometheus_. [Mrs. Browning's translation.]

2

(_For comparison with the preceding_)

Warmly this argument with others oft Have I disputed, who a.s.sert that ill To mortal man a.s.sign'd outweighs the good.

Far otherwise I deem, that good is dealt To man in larger portions: were it not, We could not bear the light of life. That Power, Whatever G.o.d he be, that called us forth From foul and savage life, hath my best thanks.

Inspiring reason first, he gave the tongue Articulate sounds, the intercourse of language: The fruits of earth he gave, and to that growth The heaven-descending rain, that from the earth, Cheer'd by its kindly dews, they might arise, And bear their life-sustaining food mature: to this The warm defense against th' inclement storm He taught to raise, and the umbrageous roof The fiery sun excluding: the tall bark He gave to bound o'er the wide sea, and bear From realm to realm in grateful interchange The fruits each wants. Is aught obscure, aught hid?

Doubts darkening on the mind the mounting blaze Removes; or from the entrail's panting fibres The seer divines, or from the flight of birds.

Are we not then fastidious to repine At such a life so furnish'd by the G.o.ds?

Euripides: _Suppliants_ 214. [Potter.]

3

_Specimen of Accelerated Rhythm in the exact metre_

AEGISTHUS

How thy word and act shall issue thou shalt shortly understand.

CHORUS

Up to action, O my comrades! for the fight is hard at hand, Swift, your right hands to the sword hilt! bare the weapon as for strife.

AEGISTHUS Lo! I too am standing ready, hilt to hilt, for death, or life!

CHORUS 'Twas thy word and we accept it! onward to the chance of war!

CLYTEMNESTRA Nay, enough, enough, my champion! we will smite and slay no more.

Already we have heaped enough the harvest-field of guilt, Enough of wrong and murder, let no other blood be spilt!

Peace, old men! and pa.s.s away into the homes by fate decreed, Lest ill valor meet our vengeance--'twas a necessary deed.

But enough of toils and troubles--be the end, if ever, now, Ere the wrath of the Avenger deal another deadly blow.

'Tis a woman's word of warning, and let who will list thereto.

AEGISTHUS But that these should loose and lavish reckless blossoms of the tongue, And in hazard of their fortune cast upon me words of wrong, And forget the law of subjects, and to heed their ruler's word--

CHORUS Ruler? but 'tis not for Argives, thus to own a dastard lord!

AEGISTHUS I will follow to chastise thee in my coming days of sway.

CHORUS Not if Fortune guide Orestes safely on his homeward way.

AEGISTHUS Ah, well I know how exiles feed on hopes of their return!

CHORUS Feed and batten on pollution of the right, while 'tis thy turn!

AEGISTHUS Thou shalt pay, be well a.s.sured, heavy quittance for thy pride.

CHORUS Crow and strut, with her beside thee, like a c.o.c.k, his mate beside!

CLYTEMNESTRA Heed not thou too highly of them--let the cur-pack growl and yell-- I and thou will rule the palace and will order all things well?

Conclusion of _Agamemnon_. (Morshead.)

4

_Scene from the 'Hercules Mad' of Euripides_

_Translated by Robert Browning_

CHORUS OF OLD MEN

Horror!

Are we come to the self-same pa.s.sion of fear, Old friends?--such a phantasm fronts me here Visible over the palace-roof!

In flight, in flight, the laggard limb Bestir, and haste aloof From that on the roof there--grand and grim!

O Paian, king!

Be thou my safeguard from the woeful thing!