Atalanta in Calydon Part 12

CHORUS.

She reels as any reed under the wind, And cleaves unto the ground with staggering feet.

ALTHAEA.

Girls, one thing will I say and hold my peace.

I that did this will weep not nor cry out, Cry ye and weep: I will not call on G.o.ds, Call ye on them; I will not pity man, Shew ye your pity. I know not if I live; Save that I feel the fire upon my face And on my cheek the burning of a brand.

Yea the smoke bites me, yea I drink the steam With nostril and with eyelid and with lip Insatiate and intolerant; and mine hands Burn, and fire feeds upon mine eyes; I reel As one made drunk with living, whence he draws Drunken delight; yet I, though mad for joy, Loathe my long living and am waxen red As with the shadow of shed blood; behold, I am kindled with the flames that fade in him, I am swollen with subsiding of his veins, I am flooded with his ebbing; my lit eyes Flame with the falling fire that leaves his lids Bloodless, my cheek is luminous with blood Because his face is ashen. Yet, O child, Son, first-born, fairest--O sweet mouth, sweet eyes, That drew my life out through my suckling breast, That shone and clove mine heart through--O soft knees Clinging, O tender treadings of soft feet, Cheeks warm with little kissings--O child, child, What have we made each other? Lo, I felt Thy weight cleave to me, a burden of beauty, O son, Thy cradled brows and loveliest loving lips, The floral hair, the little lightening eyes, And all thy goodly glory; with mine hands Delicately I fed thee, with my tongue Tenderly spake, saying, Verily in G.o.d's time, For all the little likeness of thy limbs, Son, I shall make thee a kingly man to fight, A lordly leader; and hear before I die, 'She bore the goodliest sword of all the world.'

Oh! oh! For all my life turns round on me; I am severed from myself, my name is gone, My name that was a healing, it is changed, My name is a consuming. From this time, Though mine eyes reach to the end of all these things, My lips shall not unfasten till I die.

SEMICHORUS.

She has filled with sighing the city, And the ways thereof with tears; She arose, she girdled her sides, She set her face as a bride's; She wept, and she had no pity, Trembled, and felt no fears.

SEMICHORUS.

Her eyes were clear as the sun, Her brows were fresh as the day; She girdled herself with gold, Her robes were manifold; But the days of her wors.h.i.+p are done, Her praise is taken away.

SEMICHORUS.

For she set her hand to the fire, With her mouth she kindled the same, As the mouth of a flute-player, So was the mouth of her; With the might of her strong desire She blew the breath of the flame.

SEMICHORUS.

She set her hand to the wood, She took the fire in her hand; As one who is nigh to death, She panted with strange breath; She opened her lips unto blood, She breathed and kindled the brand.

SEMICHORUS.

As a wood-dove newly shot, She sobbed and lifted her breast; She sighed and covered her eyes, Filling her lips with sighs; She sighed, she withdrew herself not, She refrained not, taking not rest;

SEMICHORUS.

But as the wind which is drouth, And as the air which is death, As storm that severeth s.h.i.+ps, Her breath severing her lips, The breath came forth of her mouth And the fire came forth of her breath.

SECOND MESSENGER.

Queen, and you maidens, there is come on us A thing more deadly than the face of death; Meleager the good lord is as one slain.

SEMICHORUS.

Without sword, without sword is he stricken; Slain, and slain without hand.

SECOND MESSENGER.

For as keen ice divided of the sun His limbs divide, and as thawed snow the flesh Thaws from off all his body to the hair.

SEMICHORUS.

He wastes as the embers quicken; With the brand he fades as a brand SECOND MESSENGER.

Even while they sang and all drew hither and he Lifted both hands to crown the Arcadian's hair And fix the looser leaves, both hands fell down.

SEMICHORUS.

With rending of cheek and of hair Lament ye, mourn for him, weep.

SECOND MESSENGER.

Straightway the crown slid off and smote on earth, First fallen; and he, grasping his own hair, groaned And cast his raiment round his face and fell.

SEMICHORUS.

Alas for visions that were, And soothsayings spoken in sleep.

SECOND MESSENGER.

But the king twitched his reins in and leapt down And caught him, crying out twice 'O child' and thrice, So that men's eyelids thickened with their tears.

SEMICHORUS.

Lament with a long lamentation, Cry, for an end is at hand.

SECOND MESSENGER.

O son, he said, son, lift thine eyes, draw breath, Pity me; but Meleager with sharp lips Gasped, and his face waxed like as sunburnt gra.s.s.

SEMICHORUS.

Cry aloud, O thou kingdom, O nation, O stricken, a ruinous land.