The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries Volume I Part 101

No vulgar fear beseems the daughter of high Zeus, And her no lightly-fleeting terror-hand may touch; But that dire horror which, from womb of ancient Night, In time primeval rising, still in divers shapes, Like lurid clouds, from out the mountain's fiery gorge, Whirls itself forth, may shake even the hero's breast.

Thus have the Stygian G.o.ds, with horror fraught, today Mine entrance to the house so marked, that fain I am, Back from the oft-time trod, long-yearned-for threshold now, Like to a guest dismissed, departing, to retire.

Yet no, retreated have I hither to the light; No further shall ye drive me, Powers, who'er ye be!

Some expiation, I'll devise, then purified, The hearth-flame welcome may the consort as the lord.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

Discover, n.o.ble queen, to us thy handmaidens, Devotedly who serve thee, what hath come to pa.s.s!

HELENA

What I have seen ye, too, with your own eyes, shall see, If ancient Night, within her wonder-teeming womb, Hath not forthwith engulfed, once more, her ghastly birth; But yet, that ye may know, with words I'll tell it you:-- What time the royal mansion's gloomy inner court, Upon my task intent, with solemn step I trod, I wondered at the drear and silent corridors.

Fell on mine ear no sound of busy servitors, No stir of rapid haste, officious, met my gaze; Before me there appeared no maid, no stewardess, Who every stranger erst, with friendly greeting, hailed.

But when I neared at length the bosom of the hearth, There saw I, by the light of dimly smouldering fire, Crouched on the ground, a crone, close-veiled, of stature huge, Not like to one asleep, but as absorbed in thought!

With accent of command I summon her to work, The stewardess in her surmising, who perchance My spouse, departing hence, with foresight there had placed; Yet, closely muted up, still sits she, motionless; At length, upon my threat, up-lifts she her right arm, As though from hearth and hall she motioned me away.

Wrathful from her I turn, and forthwith hasten out, Toward the steps, whereon aloft the Thalamos Rises adorned, thereto the treasure-house hard by; When, on a sudden, starts the wonder from the floor; Barring with lordly mien my pa.s.sage, she herself In haggard height displays, with hollow eyes, blood-grimed, An aspect weird and strange, confounding eye and thought.

Yet speak I to the winds; for language all in vain Creatively essays to body forth such shapes.

There see herself! The light she ventures to confront!

Here are we master, till the lord and monarch comes; The ghastly brood of Night doth Phoebus, beauty's friend, Back to their caverns drive, or them he subjugates.

[PHORKYAS _stepping on the threshold, between the door-posts._]

CHORUS

Much have I lived through, although my tresses Youthfully waver still round my temples; Manifold horrors have mine eyes witnessed; Warfare's dire anguish, Ilion's night, When it fell;

Through the o'erclouded, dust over-shadow'd Tumult of war, to G.o.ds have I hearken'd, Fearfully shouting; hearken'd while discord's Brazen voices clang through the field Rampart-wards.

Ah, yet standing were Ilion's Ramparts; nathless the glowing flames Shot from neighbor to neighbor roof, Ever spreading from here and there, with their tempest's fiery blast, Over the night-darkened city.--

Flying, saw I through smoke and glare, And the flash of the tongued flames, Dreadful, threatening G.o.ds draw near; Wondrous figures, of giant mould, Onward striding through the weird Gloom of fire-luminous vapor.

Saw I them, or did my mind, Anguish-torn, itself body forth Phantoms so terrible--never more Can I tell; but that I this Horrible shape with eyes behold, This of a surety know I!

Yea, with my hands could clutch it even, Did not fear, from the perilous Venture, ever withhold me.

Tell me, of Phorkyas'

Daughters which art thou?

For to that family Thee must I liken.

Art thou, may be, one of the gray-born?

One eye only, and but one tooth Using still alternately?

One of the Graiae art thou?

Darest thou, Horror, Thus beside beauty, Or to the searching glance Phoebus' unveil thee?

Nathless step thou forward undaunted; For the horrible sees he not, As his hallowed glances yet Never gazed upon shadows.

But a tragical fate, alas, Us, poor mortals, constrains to bear Anguish of vision, unspeakable, Which the contemptible, ever-detestable, Doth in lovers of beauty wake!

Yea, so hearken then, if thou dar'st Us to encounter, hear our curse, Hark to each imprecation's threat, Out of the curse-breathing lips of the happy ones, Who by the G.o.ds created are!

PHORKYAS

Trite is the word, yet high and true remains the sense: That Shame and Beauty ne'er together, hand in hand, Their onward way pursue, earth's verdant path along.

Deep-rooted in these twain dwelleth an ancient grudge, So that, where'er they happen on their way to meet, Upon her hated rival turneth each her back; Then onward speeds her course with greater vehemence, Shame filled with sorrow, Beauty insolent of mood, Till her at length embraces Orcus' hollow night, Unless old age erewhile her haughtiness hath tamed.

You find I now, ye wantons, from a foreign sh.o.r.e, With insolence o'erflowing, like the clamorous flight Of cranes, with shrilly scream that high above our heads, A long and moving cloud, croaking send down their noise, Which the lone pilgrim lures wending his silent way, Aloft to turn his gaze; yet on their course they fare, He also upon his: so will it be with us.

Who are ye then, that thus around the monarch's house, With Maenad rage, ye dare like drunken ones to rave?

Who are ye then that ye the house's stewardess Thus bay, like pack of hounds hoa.r.s.ely that bay the moon?

Think ye, 'tis hid from me, the race whereof ye are?

Thou youthful, war-begotten, battle-nurtured brood, Lewd and lascivious thou, seducers and seduced, Unnerving both, the soldier's and the burgher's strength!

Seeing your throng, to me a locust-swarm ye seem, Which, settling down, conceals the young green harvest-field.

Wasters of others' toil! ye dainty revellers, Destroyers in its bloom of all prosperity!

Thou conquer'd merchandise, exchanged and marketed!

HELENA

Who in the mistress' presence chides her handmaidens, Audacious, doth o'erstep her household privilege; For her alone beseems, the praise-worthy to praise, As also that to punish which doth merit blame.

Moreover with the service am I well-content, Which these have rendered me, what time proud Ilion's strength Beleaguer'd stood, and fell and sank; nor less indeed When we, of our sea-voyage the dreary changeful woe Endured, where commonly each thinks but of himself.

Here also I expect the like from this blithe train; Not what the servant is, we ask, but how he serves.

Therefore be silent thou, and snarl at them no more!

If thou the monarch's house till now hast guarded well, Filling the mistress' place, that for thy praise shall count; But now herself is come, therefore do thou retire, Lest chastis.e.m.e.nt be thine, instead of well-earn'd meed!

PHORKYAS

The menial train to threat, a sacred right remains, Which the ill.u.s.trious spouse of heaven-favor'd lord Through many a year doth earn of prudent governance.

Since that, now recognized, thy ancient place as queen, And mistress of the house, once more thou dost resume, The long-time loosen'd reins grasp thou; be ruler here, And in possession take the treasures, us with them!

Me before all protect, who am the elder-born, From this young brood, who seem, thy swan-like beauty near, But as a basely winged flock of cackling geese!

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

How hideous beside beauty showeth hideousness!

PHORKYAS

How foolish by discretion's side shows foolishness!

[_Henceforth the choristers respond in turn, stepping forth singly from the chorus._]

FIRST CHORISTER

Tell us of Father Erebus, tell us of Mother Night!

PHORKYAS

Speak thou of Scylla, speak of her, thy sister-born!

SECOND CHORISTER

From thy ancestral tree springs many a monster forth.

PHORKYAS