FullReads

SITYS

And when he slew Menoikios’ son,
Sister, what then?

PASIPHASSA

My cheek was wan
For lack of kissing–so I blew
On slumbering lids to draw anew
The eyes of him who had loved me well,
But now was faint.

CHTHONOE

O Kypris, tell
The deeds of men, not lovers!

RHODOPE

Here
Came one all palsied in his fear,
Chattering and white, to Paris abed,
Flusht in his sleep–told Hector dead,
Dead and dishonoured, while he slept.
He sighed and turned. But Helen wept.

GORGO

Not I. I turned and felt warm draught
Of breath upon my cheek, and laught
Softly, and snuggling, slept.

CHTHONOE

Fie, fie!
Goddess, drugged in thy dreams we lie,
Logs, not women, logs in the sun!

SITYS

Thou art sated. So fretteth One,
The very fount of Love’s sweet well,
The chord of Love made visible,
Sickened of her own loveliness,
Haggard as hawk too long in jess,
Aching for flight.

MYRTILLA

Recall the bout
When Paris armed him and went out
Into the lists, and all men thronged
To see—-

SITYS

Lord Paris and him he wronged
Fight for her, who should have her! We stood
Upon the walls, and she with her hood
Close to her cheek. But I saw the flicker
In her blue eyes!

PASIPHASSA

But I was quicker,
And saw the man she looked upon,
And after what her blue eyes shone
Like cyanus in morning light.

GORGO

Husband and lover she saw fight,
Man to man, with death between.

RHODOPE

Hatred coucht, as long and lean
As a lone wolf, on her man’s crest–

PASIPHASSA

And bit the Trojan!

CHTHONOE

Thine was the rest,
Goddess! And Helen lit the fire,
With her disdain, of his desire.

MYRTILLA

Her eyes burned like the frosty stars
Of winter midnight.

PASIPHASSA

His the scars!
Bitten in his wax-pale cheek.

CHTHONOE

Nay, in his heart—-

SITYS

Nay, in his bleak
And writhen smile you see it!

GORGO

Nay!
In his sick soul.

RHODOPE

Let him go his way!
Hear my thought of a happier thing–
Sparta’s trees in flood of spring
Where Eurotas’ banks abrim
Drown the reeds, and foam-clots swim
Like a scattered brood of duck!

MYRTILLA

Flowers anod! White flowers to pluck,
Stiffened in the foamy curds!
Ah, the green thickets quick with birds!

SITYS

Calling Itys! Itys! Itys!

PASIPHASSA

She calls not here–her house it is
In Sparta!

RHODOPE ( with a sob )

Peace!

CHTHONOE

From my heart a cry–
Send me back, Goddess, ere I die
To those dear places and clean things–
To see my people, feel the wings
Of the gray night fold over me,
And touch my mother’s knees, and be
Her child, as long ago I was
Before I lay burning in Ilios!

CHTHONOE

This is she, the source of light,
Source of light and end of it,
Argive Helen, slim and sweet,
For whose bosom and delight,
For whose eyes, those wells of peace,
Paris wrought, as well he might,
Ten years’ woe for Troy and Greece.

RHODOPE

Starry wonder that she was,
Caged like sea-bird in his arms,
See her passion thrill, then pass
From him who, doting on her charms,
So became abominable.
Watch her bosom dip and swell,
See her nostrils fan and curve
At his touch who loved not well,
But loved too much, who broke the spell;
Watch her proud head stiffen and swerve.

GORGO

Upon the wall with claspt white hands
See her vigil keep intent,
Argive Helen, lo! she stands
Looking seaward where the fires
Hem the shore innumerable;
Sign of that avenging host,
All Achaia’s chivalry,
Past the tongue of man to tell,
Peers and kindred of her sires
Come to win back Helen lost.