PAGE 9
Aias
by
CH.
There sounds a vehement ardour in thy words
That likes me not. I fear thy sharpened tongue.
TEC.
Aias, my lord, what act is in thy mind?
AI.
Inquire not, question not; be wise, thou’rt best.
TEC.
How my heart sinks! Oh, by thy child, by Heaven,
I pray thee on my knees, forsake us not!
AI.
Thou troublest me. What! know’st thou not that Heaven
Hath ceased to be my debtor from to-day?
TEC.
Hush! Speak not so.
AI.
Speak thou to those that hear.
TEC.
Will you not hear me?
AI.
Canst thou not be still?
TEC.
My fears, my fears!
AI.
(to the Attendants).
Come, shut me in, I say.
TEC.
Oh, yet be softened!
AI.
‘Tis a foolish hope,
If thou deem’st now to mould me to thy will.
[Aias is withdrawn. Exit Tecmessa]
CHORUS.
Island of glory! whom the glowing eyes
Of all the wondering world immortalize,
Thou, Salamis, art planted evermore,
Happy amid the wandering billows’ roar;
While I–ah, woe the while!–this weary time,
By the green wold where flocks from Ida stray,
Lie worn with fruitless hours of wasted prime,
Hoping–ah, cheerless hope!–to win my way
Where Hades’ horrid gloom shall hide me from the day.
Aias is with me, yea, but crouching low,
Where Heaven-sent madness haunts his overthrow,
Beyond my cure or tendance: woful plight!
Whom thou, erewhile, to head the impetuous fight,
Sent’st forth, thy conquering champion. Now he feeds
His spirit on lone paths, and on us brings
Deep sorrow; and all his former peerless deeds
Of prowess fall like unremembered things
From Atreus’ loveless brood, this caitiff brace of kings.
Ah! when his mother, full of days and bowed
With hoary eld, shall hear his ruined mind,
How will she mourn aloud!
Not like the warbler of the dale,
The bird of piteous wail,
But in shrill strains far borne upon the wind,
While on the withered breast and thin white hair
Falls the resounding blow, the rending of despair.
Best hid in death were he whom madness drives
Remediless; if, through his father’s race
Born to the noblest place
Among the war-worn Greeks, he lives
By his own light no more,
Self-aliened from the self he knew before.
Oh, hapless sire, what woe thine ear shall wound!
One that of all thy line no life save this hath found.
[Enter Aias with a bright sword, and Tecmessa, severally.]
AI.
What change will never-terminable Time
Not heave to light, what hide not from the day?
What chance shall win men’s marvel? Mightiest oaths
Fall frustrate, and the steely-tempered will.
Ay, and even mine, that stood so diamond-keen
Like iron lately dipped, droops now dis-edged
And weakened by this woman, whom to leave
A widow with her orphan to my foes,
Dulls me with pity. I will go to the baths
And meadows near the cliff, and purging there
My dark pollution, I will screen my soul
From reach of Pallas’ grievous wrath. I will find
Same place untrodden, and digging of the soil
Where none shall see, will bury this my sword,
Weapon of hate! for Death and Night to hold
Evermore underground. For, since my hand
Had this from Hector mine arch-enemy,
No kindness have I known from Argive men.
So true that saying of the bygone world,
‘A foe’s gift is no gift, and brings no good.’
Well, we will learn of Time. Henceforth I’ll bow
To heavenly ordinance and give homage due
To Atreus’ sons. Who rules, must be obeyed.
Since nought so fierce and terrible but yields
Place to Authority. Wild Winter’s snows
Make way for bounteous Summer’s flowery tread,
And Night’s sad orb retires for lightsome Day
With his white steeds to illumine the glad sky.
The furious storm-blast leaves the groaning sea
Gently to rest. Yea, the all-subduer Sleep
Frees whom he binds, nor holds enchained for aye.
And shall not men be taught the temperate will?
Yea, for I now know surely that my foe
Must be so hated, as being like enough
To prove a friend hereafter, and my friend
So far shall have mine aid, as one whose love
Will not continue ever. Men have found
But treacherous harbour in companionship.
Our ending, then, is peaceful. Thou, my girl,
Go in and pray the Gods my heart’s desire
Be all fulfilled. My comrades, join her here,
Honouring my wishes; and if Teucer come,
Bid him toward us be mindful, kind toward you.
I must go–whither I must go. Do ye
But keep my word, and ye may learn, though now
Be my dark hour, that all with me is well.