CHORUS. [STROPHE.]

Oh, fair the fruits of Leto blow: A Virgin, one, with joyous bow, And one a Lord of flashing locks, Wise in the harp, Apollo: She bore them amid Delian rocks, Hid in a fruited hollow.

But forth she fared from that low reef, Sea-cradle of her joy and grief.

A crag she knew more near the skies And lit with wilder water, That leaps with joy of Dionyse: There brought she son and daughter.

And there, behold, an ancient Snake, Wine-eyed, bronze-gleaming in the brake Of deep-leaved laurel, ruled the dell, Sent by old Earth from under Strange caves to guard her oracle-- A thing of fear and wonder.

Thou, Phoebus, still a new-born thing, Meet in thy mother's arms to lie, Didst kill the Snake and crown thee king, In Pytho's land of prophecy: Thine was the tripod and the chair Of golden truth; and throned there, Hard by the streams of Castaly, Beneath the untrodden portal Of Earth's mid stone there flows from thee Wisdom for all things mortal.

[ANTISTROPHE.]

He slew the Snake; he cast, men say, Themis, the child of Earth, away From Pytho and her hallowed stream; Then Earth, in dark derision, Brought forth the Peoples of the Dream And all the tribes of Vision.

And men besought them; and from deep Confused underworlds of sleep They showed blind things that erst had been And are and yet shall follow So did avenge that old Earth Queen Her child's wrong on Apollo.

Then swiftly flew that conquering one To Zeus on high, and round the throne Twining a small indignant hand, Prayed him to send redeeming To Pytho from that troublous band Sprung from the darks of dreaming.

Zeus laughed to see the babe, I trow, So swift to claim his golden rite; He laughed and bowed his head, in vow To still those voices of the night.

And so from out the eyes of men That dark dream-truth was lost again; And Phoebus, throneed where the throng Prays at the golden portal, Again doth shed in sunlit song Hope unto all things mortal.

[enter a MESSENGER, running.]

MESSENGER.

Ho, watchers of the fane! Ho, altar-guard, Where is King Thoas gone? Undo the barred Portals, and call the King! The King I seek.

LEADER.

What tidings--if unbidden I may speak?

MESSENGER.

The strangers both are gone, and we beguiled, By some dark plot of Agamemnon's child: Fled from the land! And on a barque of Greece They bear the heaven-sent shape of Artemis.

LEADER.

Thy tale is past belief.--Go, swiftly on, And find the King. He is but newly gone.

MESSENGER.

Where went he? He must know of what has pa.s.sed!

LEADER.

I know not where he went. But follow fast And seek him. Thou wilt light on him ere long.

MESSENGER.

See there! The treason of a woman's tongue!

Ye all are in the plot, I warrant ye!

LEADER.

Thy words are mad! What are the men to me? ...

Go to the palace, go!

MESSENGER (seeing the great knocker on the temple door.) I will not stir Till word be come by this good messenger If Thoas be within these gates or no.--

[thundering at the door.]

Ho, loose the portals! Ye within! What ho!

Open, and tell our master one doth stand Without here, with strange evil in his hand.

[enter THAOS from the temple.]

THOAS.

Who dares before this portal consecrate Make uproar and lewd battering of the gate?

Thy noise hath broke the Altar's ancient peace.

MESSENGER.

Ye G.o.ds! They swore to me--and bade me cease My search--the King was gone. And all the while ...!

THOAS.

These women? How? What sought they by such guile?

MESSENGER.

Of them hereafter!--Give me first thine ear For greater things. The virgin minister That served our altar, she hath fled from this And stolen the dread Shape of Artemis, With those two Greeks. The cleansing was a lie.

THOAS.

She fled?--What wild hope whispered her to fly?

MESSENGER.

The hope to save Orestes. Wonder on!

THOAS.

Orestes--how? Not Clytemnestra's son?

MESSENGER.

And our pledged altar-offering. 'Tis the same.

THOAS.

O marvel beyond marvel! By what name More rich in wonder can I name thee right?

MESSENGER.

Give not thy mind to that. Let ear and sight Be mine awhile; and when thou hast heard the whole Devise how best to trap them ere the goal.

THOAS.

Aye, tell thy tale. Our Tauric seas stretch far, Where no man may escape my wand of war.

MESSENGER.

Soon as we reached that headland of the sea, Whereby Orestes' barque lay secretly, We soldiers holding, by thine own commands, The chain that bound the strangers, in our hands, There Agamemnon's daughter made a sign, Bidding us wait far off, for some divine And secret fire of cleansing she must make.

We could but do her will. We saw her take The chain in her own hands and walk behind.

Indeed thy servants bore a troubled mind, O King, but how do else? So time went by.

Meanwhile to make it seem she wrought some high Magic, she cried aloud: then came the long Drone of some strange and necromantic song, As though she toiled to cleanse that blood; and there Sat we, that long time, waiting. Till a fear O'ertook us, that the men might slip their chain And strike the priestess down and plunge amain For safety: yet the dread our eyes to fill With sights unbidden held us, and we still Sat silent. But at last all spoke as one, Forbid or not forbid, to hasten on And find them. On we went, and suddenly, With oarage poised, like wings upon the sea, An Argive ship we saw, her fifty men All benched, and on the sh.o.r.e, with every chain Cast off, our strangers, standing by the stern!

The prow was held by stay-poles: turn by turn The anchor-cable rose; some men had strung Long ropes into a ladder, which they swung Over the side for those two Greeks to climb.