I held thee for a pilot ill, And reckless, of thy proper will, Endowing others doomed to die With vain and forced audacity!

Now from my heart, ungrudgingly, To those that wrought, this word be said-- _Well fall the labour ye have sped--_ Let time and search, O king, declare What men within thy city's bound Were loyal to the kingdom's care, And who were faithless found.

[_Enter Agamemnon in a chariot, accompanied by Ca.s.sandra. He speaks without descending._

AGAMEMNON

First, as is meet, a king's All-hail be said To Argos, and the G.o.ds that guard the land-- G.o.ds who with me availed to speed us home, With me availed to wring from Priam's town The due of justice. In the court of heaven The G.o.ds in conclave sat and judged the cause, Not from a pleader's tongue, and at the close, Unanimous into the urn of doom This sentence gave, _On Ilion and her men, Death:_ and where hope drew nigh to pardon's urn No hand there was to cast a vote therein.

And still the smoke of fallen Ilion Rises in sight of all men, and the flame Of Ate's hecatomb is living yet, And where the towers in dusty ashes sink, Rise the rich fumes of pomp and wealth consumed.

For this must all men pay unto the G.o.ds The meed of mindful hearts and grat.i.tude: For by our hands the meshes of revenge Closed on the prey, and for one woman's sake Troy trodden by the Argive monster lies-- The foal, the shielded band that leapt the wall, What time with autumn sank the Pleiades.

Yea, o'er the fencing wall a lion sprang Ravening, and lapped his fill of blood of kings.

Such prelude spoken to the G.o.ds in full, To you I turn, and to the hidden thing Whereof ye spake but now: and in that thought I am as you, and what ye say, say I.

For few are they who have such inborn grace, As to look up with love, and envy not, When stands another on the height of weal.

Deep in his heart, whom jealousy hath seized, Her poison lurking doth enhance his load; For now beneath his proper woes he chafes, And sighs withal to see another's weal.

AGAMEMNON

I speak not idly, but from knowledge sure-- There be who vaunt an utter loyalty, That is but as the ghost of friendship dead, A shadow in a gla.s.s, of faith gone by.

One only--he who went reluctant forth Across the seas with me--Odysseus--he Was loyal unto me with strength and will, A trusty trace-horse bound unto my car.

Thus--be he yet beneath the light of day, Or dead, as well I fear--I speak his praise.

Lastly, whate'er be due to men or G.o.ds, With joint debate, in public council held, We will decide, and warily contrive That all which now is well may so abide: For that which haply needs the healer's art, That will we medicine, discerning well If cautery or knife befit the time.

Now, to my palace and the shrines of home, I will pa.s.s in, and greet you first and fair, Ye G.o.ds, who bade me forth, and home again-- And long may Victory tarry in my train!

[_Enter Clytemnestra, followed by maidens bearing purple robes._

CLYTEMNESTRA

Old men of Argos, lieges of our realm, Shame shall not bid me shrink lest ye should see The love I bear my lord. Such blushing fear Dies at the last from hearts of human kind.

From mine own soul and from no alien lips, I know and will reveal the life I bore, Reluctant, through the lingering livelong years, The while my lord beleaguered Ilion's wall.

First, that a wife sat sundered from her lord, In widowed solitude, was utter woe-- And woe, to hear how rumour's many tongues All boded evil--woe, when he who came And he who followed spake of ill on ill, Keening _Lost, lost, all lost!_ thro' hail and bower.

Had this my husband met so many wounds, As by a thousand channels rumour told, No network e'er was full of holes as he.

Had he been slain, as oft as tidings came That he was dead, he well might boast him now A second Geryon of triple frame, With triple robe of earth above him laid-- For that below, no matter--triply dead, Dead by one death for every form he bore.

And thus distraught by news of wrath and woe, Oft for self-slaughter had I slung the noose, But others wrenched it from my neck away.

Hence haps it that Orestes, thine and mine, The pledge and symbol of our wedded troth, Stands not beside us now, as he should stand.

Nor marvel thou at this: he dwells with one Who guards him loyally; 'tis Phocis' king, Strophius, who warned me erst, _Bethink thee, queen, What woes of doubtful issue well may fall!

Thy lord in daily jeopardy at Troy, While here a populace uncurbed may cry "Down with the council, down!" bethink thee too, 'Tis the world's way to set a harder heel On fallen power._ For thy child's absence then Such mine excuse, no wily afterthought.

For me, long since the gushing fount of tears Is wept away; no drop is left to shed.

Dim are the eyes that ever watched till dawn, Weeping, the bale-fires, piled for thy return, Night after night unkindled. If I slept, Each sound--the tiny humming of a gnat, Roused me again, again, from fitful dreams Wherein I felt thee smitten, saw thee slain, Thrice for each moment of mine hour of sleep.

All this I bore, and now, released from woe, I hail my lord as watch-dog of a fold, As saving stay-rope of a storm-tossed ship, As column stout that holds the roof aloft, As only child unto a sire bereaved, As land beheld, past hope, by crews forlorn, As sunshine fair when tempest's wrath is past, As gushing spring to thirsty wayfarer.

So sweet it is to 'scape the press of pain.

With such salute I bid my husband hail!

Nor heaven be wroth therewith! for long and hard I bore that ire of old.

Sweet lord, step forth, Step from thy car, I pray--nay, not on earth Plant the proud foot, O king, that trod down Troy!

Women! why tarry ye, whose task it is To spread your monarch's path with tapestry?

Swift, swift, with purple strew his pa.s.sage fair, That justice lead him to a home, at last, He scarcely looked to see.

For what remains, Zeal unsubdued by sleep shall nerve my hand To work as right and as the G.o.ds command.

AGAMEMNON

Daughter of Leda, watcher o'er my home, Thy greeting well befits mine absence long, For late and hardly has it reached its end.

Know, that the praise which honour bids us crave, Must come from others' lips, not from our own: See too that not in fashion feminine Thou make a warrior's pathway delicate; Not unto me, as to some Eastern lord, Bowing thyself to earth, make homage loud.

Strew not this purple that shall make each step An arrogance; such pomp beseems the G.o.ds, Not me. A mortal man to set his foot On these rich dyes? I hold such pride in fear, And bid thee honour me as man, not G.o.d.

Fear not--such footcloths and all gauds apart, Loud from the trump of Fame my name is blown; Best gift of heaven it is, in glory's hour, To think thereon with soberness: and thou?

Bethink thee of the adage, _Call none blest Till peaceful death have crowned a life of weal._ 'Tis said: I fain would fare unvexed by fear.

CLYTEMNESTRA

Nay, but unsay it--thwart not thou my will!

AGAMEMNON

Know, I have said, and will not mar my word.

CLYTEMNESTRA

Was it fear made this meekness to the G.o.ds?

AGAMEMNON

If cause be cause, 'tis mine for this resolve.

CLYTEMNESTRA

What, think'st thou, in thy place had Priam done?

AGAMEMNON

He surely would have walked on broidered robes.

CLYTEMNESTRA

Then fear not thou the voice of human blame.

AGAMEMNON

Yet mighty is the murmur of a crowd.

CLYTEMNESTRA

Shrink not from envy, appanage of bliss.

AGAMEMNON