\4^ % THE TRAGEDIES OF ^SCHYLUS, THE TRAGEDIES OF ^SCHYLUS; TRANSLATED BY R. POTTER. A NEW EDITION, CORRECTED, WITH NOTES. .^^^ OF THE ^"^P Cr ^^ OXFORD, PRINTED BY AND FOR BLISS AND BAXTER / AND F. C. AND J. RIVINGTON, AND MESSRS. LONGMAN, HURSTj REES5 ORME5 AND BROWN, LONDON. 1812. J V :t ^^ ti ISI Z PREFACE. MM^ 1 HE noble author, with whose remaining trage* dies the public is here presented, was an Athe- nian of an honourable family, distinguished for the sublimity of his genius and the ardour of his martial spirit. In his youth he had read Homer with the warmest enthusiasm ; and finding his great master unrivalled in the^ possession of the Epic, he early conceived the design of creating a new province for himself, and forming the Drama ; so much we may be allowed to infer from the fable, that whilst he was yet a boy Bacchus appeared to him as he lay asleep in a vineyard, and commanded him to write tragedies* This noble design he soon exe- cuted, and before the twenty- fifth year of his age began to entertain his countrymen with representa- tions worthy of an Athenian audience. He had pursued these studies about ten years, when Darius invaded Oreece. His generals, Datis and Arta- phernes, with an army of two hundred thousand foot and ten thousand horse were now advanced t9 b 103951 vi Preface. the plains of Marathon, distant only ten miles from Athens. The danger, which threatened his coun- try, called forth the martial spirit of our poet ; and very honourable mention is made of him, and his two brothers, Cynasgirus and Amynias, for their eminent valour in that battle : to have wanted courage on such an occasion would have been a mark of the most abject baseness ; but to be dis- tinguished in an action, where every soldier was an hero, is a proof of superior merit : in a picture re- presenting the battle of Marathon the portrait of jEschylus was drawn : this was all the honour that Miltiades himself received from the state for his glorious conduct on that day ; he was placed at the , head of the ten commanders, and drawn in the act of encouraging the Soldiers and beginning the battle. Some time after, Cyna3girus was one of the four naval commanders, who, with an armament of one thousand Grecians, defeated thirty thousand Per- sians ; but he lost his life in the action. Ten years after the battle of Marathon, when Xerxes made that immense preparation to revenge the defeat of his father, we find the two surviving brothers exerting their courage in the sea-fight off Salamis : here Amynias, too boldly laying hold of a Persian ship, had his hand lopped off with a sabre ; but yEschylus defended him, and saved his life ; and the Athenians decreed him the first ho- Preface. vii nours, because he was the first to attack the com- mander of the Persian fleet, shattered the ship to pieces, and killed the Satrap. It is observed that the two brothers were ever after inseparable. The following year iEschylus acquired fresh glory in the battle of Piataea, where the brave Persian Mardonius was defeated and slain. Having taken this active part in three the most memorable battles that grace the annals of Greece, and distinguished himself as a good citizen and a brave man, he returned with ardour to his former studies, and completed his design of making the Drama a regular, noble, and rational entertainment. He wrote about seventy tragedies, and was in great esteem with his countrymen : but upon some dis- gust in the latter part of his life he retired from Athens to the court of Hiero king of Sicily, where about three years after he died in the sixty-ninth year of his age. The cause of this disgust is vari- ously related : some impute it to his impatience of the rising fame of Sophocles, yet a young man, to whom the prize was adjudged against him ; others to the preference given to the Elegies of Simonides written in honour of those,; who fell in the field of Marathon, But to have excelled in Elegy could have added no glory to the superior genius of iEschylus :, neither does it appear probable that such a contest should viii Preface. have happened thirty years after the battle wa« fought. From the other charge one would wish to vindicate so great a name; and happily it carries its own confutation with it ; for whether Sophocles was only seven or seventeen years younger than ^schylus, which is not precisely determined, he could not be a young man when the other was ^ixty-four ; and we know that the prize was ad- judged to the last exhibition of Jilschylus, which consisted of his Agamemnon, the Choephoras, the Furies, and a satyric piece. But the tragedy of the Furies gave great offence to the city; and the poet, whether for that or on some other pretence, was accused of impiety. His brother Amynias pleaded his cause : the Athenians were struck with this in- stance of fraternal affection, they reverenced their maimed veteran, and ^schylus was acquitted. But such a spirit was not formed to submit to the affront; it made too deep an impression to be effaced ; and the poet quitted the city with great indignation, declaring with a noble pride that he tvould entrust his tragedies to posterity, certain that he should receive from thence the honour he deserved. This honour the Athenians soon paid to his noble works : by a decree of the senate, never granted to any other, they offered rewards to any man that should again exhibit his plays ; they frequently adjudged the prize to him after his de-tr cease, and acknowledged him the Father of Tr^ gedy. Preface. ix To comprehend the justness of this honourable appellation, and to form a precise idea of the ori- ginality of iEschylus, it will be necessary to trace the Tragic Muse from her birth to her yet infirm Btate when this poet gave her strength, spirit, and dignity. The story has been told, it seems, twenty times already; let it not give offence if it be told once more : it shall be a short tale. Tragedy then was at first no more than a rustic song in honour of Bacchus, attending the sacrifice of a goat, an .animal hated by the God because its bite is parti- cularly hurtful to the vine. What was originally no more that an accidental frolic became an an- nual custom, next a public sacrifice, and thence an established rite ; for as every thing in Pagan anti- quity was sacred, sports and amusements were changed into feasts, and the temples were converted into theatres : but this by due degrees. The Gre- cians, advancing in polished manners, carried into their towns a feast that sprung from the leisure of the country : their best poets took a pride in com* posing these religious hymns to the honour of Bac- . chus, and embellished them with the agreeable en- tertainments of music and dancing. After a length of time, the songs advancing in perfection, it was found necessary to give the singer some relief; and that the company might be amused during the pauses of the music, an actor was introduced : his part could be no other than a single speech, setting forth that he represented Hercqles, or Theseus^ or X Preface. some other hero of antiquity, and had performed such or such an illustrious achievement: at the next pause another personated character advanced ; at the next, another ; but each unrelated and un- connected with the other. This we imagine to be o --> the state of things, till Thespis and Phrynicus had the address to continue the same interlocutor through every pause of the music, and to make him the narrator of one uniform and continued story. The novelty had the good fortune to please; and as the stories were interesting, the songs in honour of Bacchus ceased to amuse, till by degrees they lost their original design, and took their colouring from the intermediate representation. Such was the rude state of Tragedy, when iEschylus conceived the great design of forming it into a new species of poetry that should rival even the Epic in dignity. The humble arbour interwove with vine branches - gave place to scenes of astonishing grandeur ; the actor, no longer mounted on the cart of Thespis with his face smeared over with lees of wine, or covered with a mask formed from the bark of a tree, now trod a spacious stage, magnificently ha- bited in a robe of honour and the stately buskin ; even the mask, that eternal disgrace of the Athe- nian theatre, wore a new and elegant form expres- sive of the character represented. But these exte- rior decorations were proofs only of the taste of ^schylus : his superior genius appeared in giving life to the piece, by introducing the dialogue, Preface. , xi without which there could be no action ; and from this circumstance it is that he is with the highest propriety called the Father of the Drama. It is commonly said that iEschylus never produced more than two speakers upon the stage at the same time; there are proofs to the contrary, though he gene- rally adhered to that simple plan : but the new part, which the Chorus now took, amply supplied what we should call that poverty of the stage. The Music and the Dance could not, without infinite offence, be withdrawn from the gay and lively Athenians : ^schylus therefore retained the Ode and Music, which properly speaking consti- tuted the original Tragedy ; but he adapted it to his plan, and interested it in the action; thereby giving an unity of design to the whole, an agree- ableness and splendor to the spectacle, and adding the force and spirit of Lyric Poetry to the gravity and magnificence of the Tragic style : but such was the simplicity of ancient manners, supported by truth and decency, that the Chorus yet retained the moral and sacred air of the first institution ; hence we find it always grave, sententious, sublime, and ardent in the cause of liberty, virtue, and re- ligion. JEschylus had studied Homer with attention and judgment ; from him he might learn propriety and dignity of character, sublimity of conception, and xii Preface. fiaagnificence of expression : and it was impossibles for him not to observe the necessity of building his plan upon one great and interesting action ; but in this nature and good sense prescribed a different conduct to the Tragic and the Epic poet. In the closet the mind may be agreeably entertained by the Epic muse, whilst she leads us backwards and forwards through the various fortunes of her hero, tmd sometimes makes excursions in pursuit of inci- dental adventures ; whilst the imagination loves to attend her in her flights, and disdains to be con- fined by the narrow limits of time and place. But where the poetic imitation is made by action, and represented at once to the eye, a severer discipline becomes necessarv; that faithful monitor checks the rovings of fancy, exacts a sober regard to unity of time and place, and demands a simpler plan ; the good sense of .'Eschylus led him to observe this ; and in allusion to it he often used to say, with much modesty, that his tragedies were only single dishes taken from the great feast of Homer* But if the Tragic Muse lost any thing in the re* gions of imagination, she found herself amply re- compensed by the empire she acquired over the passions ; the imitation of nature is her province, as well as the Epic Muse's ; and this imitation is Stronger and more perfect in action than in narra- tion, ^schylus, by introducing the Dialogue and engaging tFie Chorus in the interest of the Drama^ Preface. xui gave birth to Action properly so called, and placed the Actors in such a lively manner before the eyes of the spectators, that they suffered themselves to be agreeably deceived, they forgot that the high- wrought scene was fictitious, and entered into the interests and passions of the persons represented with real emotion. This also required a different conduct in the Tragic and the Epic Poet : the pro- vince of the latter is to instruct and delight ; and he marches on to his end with a majestic pace through the extensive regions of moral, passion, and description: iEschylus perceived that the Drama: is confined to one point of place, and one point of time ; that therefore its business is to advance with rapidity, and seize the heart at once : the passions then are its peculiar province. It is finely con- ceived by P. Brumoy that iEschylus represented the Epos to his mind as a majestic queen seated on her throne, her brow shaded with clouds, but so as to discover great designs and wonderful re- volutions: whilst his strong imagination figured tragedy as bathed in tears, her poignard in her hand, attended by terror and pity, preceded by despair, and followed by woe. This great master was well acquainted with the human heart ; he found it more averse to misery than desirous of happiness, and tremblingly alive to the shocks of fear, that gives us continual notice of the evils inseparably from human life. Closely xiv Preface. allied to this passion is another, that makes the heart recoil at the sight of those miseries which befal another, and to which we are ourselves equally liable. Terror and pity then are the strongest, the most common, and therefore the most dangerous of all the passions; they overwhelm the human heart, render it incapable of bearing up against the repeated impressions of ills, and of discharging with a proper degree of firmness the necessary du- ties of life. To purge these passions, to take away their peioicious qualities, and preserve whatever they have of useful, is the business in common of the philosopher and the poet ; but these effect their ends by different means ; the former applies him- self to the understanding by the cool deductions of reason : the poet plays the passions against them- selves, expels terror by terror, and pity by pity, and makes the weapon, that gave the wound, per- form the cure. The evils, of which we are either spectators or sufferers in the larger theatre of hu- man life, strike the heart with a terror that crushes all its powers, or with a pity that dissolves them : but in the miniic scene the poet by captivating the imagination has the address to convey certair> sen- sations of pleasure, of which we cannot divest our- selves, and thereby interests our attention to the fictitious scenes spreading over the soul that most exquisite of all its feelings, a calm dignity of grief that at once chastises and refines it, and thereby teaching the heart to support its own afflictions Preface. xv with manly fortitude, or to feel for the afflictions of others with a sensibility corrected by reason. These are so evidently the effects of the ancient Drama, that they are from thence • deduced as rules for its construction ; and to refuse the great poet the honour of having this design in the plan of his tragedies, would be as violent an injustice as to deny that the great painter "*, when he deli- neated the dying hero, intended to impress us with a reverence of his unshaken fortitude, and to awake in our breasts the passions of admiration, love, pity, and grief, which are so strongly marked in the countenances and attitudes of his surrounding friends. a Thus tragedy owes its existence to the creative hand of ^schylus : like his own Prometheus, he not only gave it being and form, but animated it with the brightest ray of ethereal fire ; leaving pos- terity to admire the force of his genius, and to doubt whether he was ever excelled, or even equal- led, till our Shakespear arose blessed with an hap- pier invention and more extensive powers. It is pleasant however to observe in what manner some writers, who would take it ill to be denied the first rank in criticism, speak of this author. Sublimity of conception, magnificence of style, and the high tragic spirit they graciously allow him; in this they safely build upon the judgment of Longinus Ho- * Mr. West, in his picture of the death of General Wolf. xvi Preface. race, and Quintilian, from whence there is no ap- peal : the same judgment had also pronounced him sometimes harsh and incorrect; and so, without adverting to the meaning of these great critics, that Longinus is speaking of the boldness of his imagery, and Quintihan, as if commenting on Horace, of his style, which had not yet acquired its just accuracy and correctness, they carry the censure into the composition of his tragedies, which they represent as wild, irregular, and frequently fantastic ; his plots, as rude and inartificial ; his scenes, as uncon- nected and ill-placed ; his characters, as strongly marked, but all partaking of that wild fierceness which is the characteristic of the author. Some, and amongst these are the best French critics, re- present him as difficult, obscure, and in some places scarcely to be understood : Another tells us that his thoughts rise in a natural succession ; that instead of being perplexed, one runs along with him, nay often before him : We are indeed gravely recommended to take his soul and genius, in some degree, along with us ; that does not fall to the share of every reader, nor of every critic ; but to an Acumen, that finds no obscurity in Lycophron, no wonder that ^schylus is even familiar. The amiable candour of a fine writer, who has joined an accurate taste to the deep^t penetration, and the finest sensibility to the most /chastised judg- ment, teaches us thus to apologize for heaven-born Preface. xvil genius, that acts from something superior and an- teeedent to rules ; ** Great indulgence is due to the " errors of original writers, who, quitting the beat- *' en track which others have travelled, make dar- *^ ing incursions into unexplored regions of inven- *' tion, and boldly strike into the pathless sublime : '* it is no wonder if they are often bewildered, " sometimes benighted : yet surely it is more eligi- " ble to partake the pleasure and the hazard of *^ their adventures, than still to follow the cautious ** steps of timid imitators through trite and common " roads. , Genius is of a bold enterprising nature, " ill adapted to the formal restraints of critic insti- '^ tutions, or indeed to lay down to itself rules of ** nice discretion." — Essay on the writings and genius of Skakespear. But even this generous apology is seldom wanted for iEschylus, except in his tragedy of Prometheus : there indeed the poet has given free scope to his unbounded imagination, and exerted the strength and ardour of his genius with a wild and terrible magnificence; the limits of this world were not sufficient for his extensive and daring spirit, but it made excursions beyond the walks of mortal man: each personated charac- ter is a .Divinity, and the illustrious sufferer an an- cient God of the high and haughty race of Titan, unworthily punished for his benevolence, and pre- scient that no submission could mitigate the seve- rity of his fate; here that horrid grandeur of the scene has a peculiar propriety ; and the reader of xviii Preface. taste does not wish to see Prometheus abate any thing of that unconquerable spirit, with which he defies the Thunderer. In ^Eschylus the sublime is truly expressive of the elevation of his mind : born with a soul of fire, and animated with whatever is great and noble, all his ideas are magnificent and full of energy ; what he conceived boldly he ex- pressed with a correspondent dignity of style ; as bis judgment informed him that manners in Tra- gedy would admit a stronger colouring than in the Epos, because there every thing speaks to the eye and the heart, so he gave it at once an higher tone and greater pomp of diction ; this perhaps he has carried to an excess ; his epithets are sometimes harsh and turgid, and by endeavouring always to support an elevation of style he has rendered it what P. Brumoy well expresses by *^ quelquefois " gigantesque." But thi^ is to be understood only of his diction : his images, with all their magnifi- cence, never overstep the modesty of nature ; they are indeed conceived with that inimitable fire, and expressed with such a daring sublimity, that it re- quires no small portion of the high poetic spirit to attend him through his boundless flights ; and this is one principal reason of that obscurity which is complained of in his choral Odes : but to assert from hence that his figures often obscure his sense rather than enlighten it, is to speak the language of tasteless criticism, that meditates its frigid lucu- brations over the midnight lamp, leaving true ge- Preface. xix nius, like the eagle, to soar undazzled by the blazing sun when he '' glows with unmitigated day," We have lately been told that if we consider the state of the Drama, when iEschylus undertook to reform and improve it, we shall behold him with admiration ; if we compare him with his two illus- trious successors, he hides his diminished head, and appears far less conspicuous. But this judgment was unknown to ancient Greece: the state of Athens paid honours to ^schylus, which never were granted to any other poet : Aristophanes, who certainly was not deficient in taste, gave the preference to ^schylus : and Lycurgus, to whom the poetic world is so greatly indebted, erected statues alike to iEschylus, Sophocles, and Euripi- des, and ordered their tragedies to be transcribed and preserved together. In pronouncing on their comparative merit, the best critics assign to iEs- chylus the high tragic dignity, to Sophocles harmo- nious elegance, to Euripides the moral and pathetic. As the temper of the times must always have a great influence on the genius of their poets, we may in some measure account for this difference of character from the different state of Athens in the periods when these three great writers composed their tragedies ; for though they were cotempora- ries, that is, were all alive at the same timej yet the circumstances of the public had in that short time received a very considerable change. Whilst Ms- If XX Preface. chyius was in the vigour of his age, the generous glow of liberty and the high martial spirit blazed out with the brightest ardour ; it was successful ; and Athens was the proud scene of conquests, glo- ries, triumphs, spoils : .^schylus had borne an ac- tive and honourable part in these great engagements; his genius was naturally sublime and daring ; the spirit of the times called forth the spirit of the poet, was highly flattered by it, and in return received it with the greatest pleasure and warmest applause. — The penetrating writer before cited in apologizing for the irregularities of Shakespear, has this fine remark, *^ If perfect and faultless composition is " ever to be expected from human faculties, it must " be at some happy period when a noble and " graceful simplicity, the result of well regulated " and sober magnanimity, reigns through the gene- " ral manners. Then the Muses and the Arts, " neither effeminately delicate, nor audaciously " bold, assume their highest character, and in all ** their compositions seem to respect the chastity " of the public taste, which would equally disdain " quaintness of ornament, or the rude neglect " of elegance and decorum. Such periods had " Greece !" And such was the precise period in which Sophocles wrote : the high national spirit had as yet suffered no abatement ; but the war had now nothing dangerous or peculiarly interesting in it : and Athens was at leisure to cultivate the fine arts with a greater degree of exactness, and to give Preface. xxi them a polish and perfection unknown to more busy and tumultuous times : hence the correct and elegant Sophocles. The Athenians had now an opportunity in the calm of peace to enjoy the riches which they had acquired in the Persian war ; nor were they of a disposition to neglect the enjoy- ment ; this of course brought on a greater refine- ment of taste, and a softer delicacy of sentiment ; but the ancient simplicity of manners was not yet corrupted ; it only became more elegant, and form- ed the pathetic Euripides, the greatest master of the tender passions : and happily for the cause of virtue the chaste and philosophic friend of Socrates might well be trusted with his empire over them. If then the glorious scenes of war and conquest were peculiarly favourable to the bold and fiery ge- nius of -^schylus, ** the period, when Sophocles ^' and Euripides wrote, was that in which the fine *^ arts and polite literature were in a degree of per- *^ fection, which succeeding ages have emulated in " vain," till an amiable writer of our own, by an happy effort of/' heaven-born genius,"' regulated by the most chastised judgment, united the powers of the three illustrious Grecians, and has charmed us with the tenderness of Euripides in Elfrida, with the force of iEschylus, and the correctness and harmony of Sophocles in Caractacus, adding from his own stores a richness and a grace with which the severity of the Athenian Drama was unac- quainted. d xxii V Preface. Notwithstanding the acknowledged merit of this truly original writer, he seems to have been little studied even by the learned of these later ages : of all our other poets Milton and Mr. Gray are the only two that have imitated his manner, and caught the fire of his genius ; unless we may add to them our sublime Collins. A minute examination of the particular images which these noble writers may seem to have glanced at in iEschylus, would be equally uncandid and invidious ; it is more agree- able and more just to observe, that from whatever sparks they kindled '* the Muses' Vestal Fires," they had genius of their own to " fan them to that *' dazzling blaze of song,'' which must always make them the glory of English Poetry. Those who are best acquainted with iEschylus in the original language, will be most sensible of the difficulties of presenting him properly to the English reader ; the Translator saw and felt them enough. In a language, that has so long ceased to be spoken, many peculiar elegances must escape even those that read it with the greatest accuracy ; and many of those, which are observed, will neces- sarily lose the richness of their colouring, when copied into another language : and this must al- ways be the case where the whole beauty depends upon the choice and arrangement of words and syllables constituting an inimitable harmony of ex- pression. *' Un tour en toute langue (says, the ex- Preface, xxiii *^ cellent Brumoy) vaut souvent une pens^e, et en *' est v6ritablement une. Mais c'est une m^ne " qui fond, une phant6m qui s' ^vanoiiit, ou du *' njoins une fleur qui se fanne dans une langue " etrangere." There are many instances of this in the choral Odes : these too are often so difficult, that the Translator cannot flatter himself that he has always reached the precise meaning of tlie ori- ginal, though directed by the penetrating sagacity of the very learned Pauw, to whom he most grate- fully acknowledges the highest obligations : and, what is particularly to be lamented, even these small remains of ^schylus have come down to us so injured by the depredations of time, that in many passages the happiest conjecture is the best criticism. Yet the Translator was not discou- raged : he had an ambition to present this noble au- thor to the English reader, and flattered himself that his attempt would be acceptable to the public : animated with this pleasing hope he undertook and went through the arduous work ; but when he re- flects upon the generous encouragement he has met with from so many persons of the highest rank, as well as of the first reputation in literature, he thinks it the truest mark of respect, and the best thanks for the honour they have done him, to assure them that he trembles whilst he publishes what he wrote with ardour ; trembles lest the translation should be false to his own wishes, and unworthy of their patronage : his wishes are to please ; and in a xxiv Preface. work of such difficulty there is some degree of merit even in the attempt ; and this is all he pre- sumes to claim. Should he however be so happy as to succeed, and be thought to deserve the ap- probation of the public, to which he now with the greatest diffidence appeals, this will animate him with the most sanguine hope of further success in the long promised translation of Euripides ; to that he now returns. If an apology for these studies be necessary in respect to his years and profession, he begs leave to make it in the words of Tully, '* Ego vero fateor, me his studiis esse deditum. " Ceteros pudeat, siqui ita se litteris abdiderunt, " ut nihil possint ex his neque ad communem af- " ferre fructum, neque in aspectum lucemque " proferre. Me autem quid pudeat, qui tot annos " ita vivo, ut ab nullius unquam me tempore aut *' commodum, aut otium meum abstraxerit, aut " Voluptas avocarit, aut denique Somnus retarda- " rit? Quare quis tandem me reprehendat, aut " quis mihi jure succenseat, si, quantum ceteris ad " suas res obeundas, quantum ad festos dies ludo* ** rum celebrandos, quantum ad alias Voluptates, " et ad ipsam requiem animi et corporis conceditur '* temporum : quantum alii tribuunt tempestivis *' conviviis : q uantum denique aleas, quantum pilas ; " tantum mihi egomet ad hsec studia recolenda *' sumpsero?" — Pro Archia Poeta. SCARNING, September 8, 1777. TO Mrs. MONTAGU, When you first expressed to me your desire, that notes explanatory of the ancient mythology, history, and customs, might be added to the trans- lation of iEschylus,^ it surprised me that you, who certainly want notes as little as any person alive, should be the first to ask for them ; and I wished to be excused from the task, as conscious to my- self that, though I might be so happy as to enter- tain the Pubhc, I could have no pretensions to in- struct it, not presuming to think, that I know more than every one knows, or at least ought to know : your politeness would not admit my plea, but you persevered in your request ; I might more properly call it your command, for as such I shall always receive even an hint from Mrs. Montagu. In con- sequence of this, I have now the honour of present- XXVI ing to you such remarks, as occurred to me upon a careful review of my author ; these may possibly be of service to the less informed reader, and for such notes in general, and even translations, are principally intended : thus far all may be well ; but ^'owr expectations must he disappointed; for such writing is not in its nature amusing, and you want no information which the writer is capable of giving. I know your active mind wishes to penetrate through the allegorical covering, which the philo- sophers, poets, and priests of ancient times threw over their physical, moral, and theological inqui- ries ; but the boast of Isis yet remains, and no mortal hath removed her veil. The misfortune is, almost all the monuments of Egyptian learning are lost, and of the Egyptian Gods nothing remains but fable : the light, which we receive upon these subjects, is chiefly derived from the Greek writers, and this by no means pure; they were indeed enough acquainted with Egypt to acquire from thence a turn for mythologizing, but we may ob- serve, that it did not always sit easy upon them ; ill instructed in the antiquities of their own country, they have transmitted to us a confused heap of un- certain traditions ; and these, by fulling into the hands of the poets, are become still more extrava- gant; the consequence of which is, they have xxvu multiplied doubts, to which one would willingly prefer the most profound ignorance. You would be the more convinced of the justness and good sense of this observation of the learned and excel- lent M. le Count Caylus, could you bear to read the celebrated treatise of Plutarch concerning Isis and Osiris, where you would find such a mixture of history and fable, allegory and explication, rea- soning and absurdity, as would deter you from fur- ther inquiry; yet Plutarch was one of the most learned and inquisitive persons of his age, and in these researches he had means of information, which we can never have. Yet for our times these dis- coveries seem to have been reserved ; we have writers on mythology in abundance ; and though they differ in their explications, yet they agree in an unclassical disregard to antiquity and truth, and in a barbarous attempt to demolish all the monu- ments of Egypt and Greece, and with their mate- rials some to repair the temple of Jerusalem, some to build up systems of their own ; these indeed are un pen bizarres, and what one of them says of the others, we may with equal reason apply to them all, *' On cherche quelque lumiere, et Ton ne voit *^ qu' amas indigeste d'une vaste Erudition et Tabus *' le plus ^trciuge des Langues, que Ton honora *' faussement du nom de Science ^tymologique." And would you have me venture to tread this xxvni treacherous soil of mythology ? Or have you a wish to see me pictured, like that great Mystagogue, Alexander Ross, in the temple of Apollo, my pon- tifical robe trailing on the pavement, my philoso- phical beard waving over my breast, my front ploughed with many a deep remark, and a great church-door key in my hand, which after all opens to no knowledge ? But since, notwithstanding my nolo episcopari, you have called me forth to the office of Hiero- phant, I must enter upon it by declaring, that who- ever he be that wishes to give, or to form any rational idea of the mythology of the ancients, he must first acquaint himself with the religion of the earliest ages, its progressive corruption through the three greater species of idolatry, and theii" mode of representing things by hieroglyphic characters ; for from hence arose this marvellous entassement. of mythology, symbol, and allegory. Religion is natural to the human mind, and when the early ages had sunk to that miserable blindness as to lose sight of the true God, who re- vealed himself to their first progenitor, they looked up to the Heavens, and struck with admiration of the nature of the universe, supposed the Sun and Moon to be the eternal and first Gods. The voice of antiquity is uniform in this ; the earliest ^ XXIX account we have is from the Fragment of Sancho- niatho, which tells us, that * Mon and Protogo- nus in times of drought stretched their hands to the Heavens towards the Sun ; for this they esteemed as God the sole lord of the Heaven. As Diodorus Siculus tells us the same thing of the Egyptians, so Herodotus gives us a similar account of the an- cient t Persians and Libyans ; this Hyde calls the first interpolation : and Plato J says, that the ear- liest Grecians worshipped the Sun, and the Moon, and the Earth, and the Stars, and the Heaveti, as ' many barbarians do now. Thus elementary wor- ship was the first species of idolatry. When men were drawn from a savage life to the more civilized state of society, those virtues (Or in arts, or arms Diffusing blessings, or averting harms,) / which had made a prince the father of his people, induced them out of gratitude and reverence to deify him after his decease, and to pay him divine honours : thus Sanchuniatho tells us, that || when * Aiwya xal TJ^uToyovov av^^wv ysioiJLsvuv roc; X^~f^^ o^eysiv iU ov^cc-^ voyj -ET^oj Tov rXiQv. iovtqv yap, (ptjcr*, Seop lyo/j$ oiTTO^onvovTi^y £v yo,^ TCbV ccyoiT^ix-ccTuv avTYig, roc iu.iv Ki^cca-i^opoc tov fjsvivosioooi y^yonvon ij.i^rn^o(.Toc^ to?? ^e jiAEAaporoAotj l^^Pocivova-i ra? x^v- aJ'"? 5yo^>5craj, roig re ^va-tx.o'is xaJ xocrjiti- . XXXVl - manner: but where in history sacred or profane, where in religion or in nature shall we find this worthy? Shall we draw him out of Noah's Ark ? Shall we yoke him to the plough in Egypt, thence send him to a mountain to escape the inundation of the Nile, which overspread his province rapid as an Eagles flight, in despair, till Hercules re- paired the ravages, and taught the river to confine itself to its channel? Shall we find him on Mount Horeb in the person of Moses ? Or shall we take 'up with any one, or with all the fourteen interpre- tations of Alexander Ross ? The civilizing, oneiro- critic, and medicinal arts, which he boasts to have taught mankind, show him to have been an Egyptian, they fix him to the age of Osiris, they even mark him to be Osiris himself; for he was the wise and benevolent civilizer''^, he re- claimed his Egyptians from their poor and savage life, he instructed them in agriculture, gave them laws, and taught them to honour the Gods. But his name, as well as that of his inconsiderate bro- ther, is purely Greek ; and probably he owes his civilizing qualities to the vanity of that people, who had a wonderful propensity to claim to themselves the invention of all the arts of polished life. Had we nothing of his story, but what is so elegantly related by Plato, we should not hesitate to pro- * Bao-iXEUovra l\ "Oa-i^^v Alywriov? (j.\v d^iig ccvopv ^iov kx\ 9n- ^M^ovc aVaXXala*, Koifjrovv T£ ^sl^ocvroi, xctt vo/xou? St/btEVOv uvroXiy Kod S/ovj hl^otnoi Tt/xav. — Plutarch de Is. et 0§ir. XXXVll nounce him an emblem of the Divine Providence in the formation of man ; and as such we must ac- cept it, little doubting but that his chains, and the eagle preying on his heart, were wild and extra- vagant fables superadded to the original sober allegory. No uncommon practice this* Mr. Bryant well accounts for this, when he says, ** The history ** of Prometheus was certainly taken from hiero- " glyphics misunderstood, and badly explained, at *' least fronl the sacred devices upon the entabla- " tijires of temples. Prometheus was worshipped *' by the Colchians as a deity ; and had a temple J* and high place called Typhaeonia Petra upon ** Mount Caucasus ; the device upon the portal " was Egyptian, an Eagle over aa Heart ; the " Eagle and the Vulture were the insignia of that " country." — ^The Heart was another hieroglyphi- cal character. — It were to be wished, that this very ingenious and learned gentleman had favoured us /with his authority for this interesting circumstance; it would have been more satisfactory to his readers, though his fidelity cannot be suspected : it were ^so to be wished, that he had stopped here ; for beyond this we have no support from antiquity ; neither reason nor religion can account for a story so inconsistent with both ; and of conjectures we have enough. But the spirit of mythologizing is gone fortli, and all flesh is humbled in its sight; gods and men, heaven and earth, the air and the XXXV]ll sea, theology, physics, and ethics, and all the mo- nunaents of antiquity fall before it ; The lonely mountains o'er, And the resounding shore, A voice of weeping heard, and loud lament ; From haunted spring and dale, ' Edged with poplar pale, , - V> The parting genius is with sighing sent ; . With flowV -inwoven tresses torn The Nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn,8cc*^ I promised that I would introduce the daughter of Inachus to your acquaintance ; and if I have been so happy as to explain this one mythological character, it has been by a sober attention to anti- quity, under the guidance of a right reverend author, whose comprehensive genius has fathomed all the depths of literature. Could I have found any fur- ther support from antiquity, any rational ground on which to follow my inquiries, I should have been equally happy to have been able to give you satis-v faction with regard to the other mysterious per- sonages mentioned by ^schylus : instead of this you will give me leave to put you off with a story. As Socrates one evening was walking with his friend Phaedrus on the banks of the Ilyssus, the young man asked whether that was the place whence Boreas was said to have carried off the virgin Ori- thyia : being shown the place a little lower down the stream, where an altar to Boreas yet stood, he XXXIX says, But tell me, I conjure you, Socrates, are you persuaded that this mythological narration is true ? If I should disbelieve it, as wise men do, the phi- losopher replies, I should not be guilty of any great, absurdity ; then I should show my acuteness, and say that the violence of the north-wind drove her '.. down those rocks as she was playing with Pharma- cia, and that, perishing there, she was said to have been carried away by Boreas. Those things, my Phasdrus, on sonie accounts, I think agreeable, but they are the inquiries of a studious, laborious man, and of one riot perfectly happy ; if for no other rea- son, yet for this, that he would thfen be under a neces- • sity of adjusting the form of the Centaurs, and next . of the Chiniajra ; then flows in a multitude of Gor- gons and Pegasus's, and such like beings, inexpli- cable for their numbers, and monstrous in their absurdity. If any one, who has no faith in these, should attempt to give a solution of each form, though in no elegant manner, he would find it a work that requires much leisure. But I have no leisure for such things : the reason, my friend, ,is - this ; I am not yet able, according to the Delphic injunction, to know myself; and it would be ridi^ ciilous for nie, whilst I am ignorant of this, to be investigating things foreign to my own business and bosom, Wherefore, bidding farewell to these things, and submitting to what is determined concerning them, I consider what I lately'mentioned, not such subjects, but myself, whether I am a monster more xl multiform and more fiery fierce than Typhon, or a tamer and more simple animal, in my nature par- taking of some divine and gentle portion. — Pla- to's PHiEUHUS. Socrates tells u^, that these inquiries are not the task of a very happy man : the Athenian philoso- pher had his reason for saying this, but they affect not us : I should be very happy if my inquiries could produce any thing worthy your attention, the study and the kbour I should think vyell em- ployed. And now, Madam, you see how little you are to expect from these notes; yet such as they are, as they Were written by your command, to you they are dedicated; as your candour has induced you to approve the translation, I can with the better grace presume to dedicate that also to you : the approbation of Mrs. Montagu is the highest honour any writer can receive; I am not insensible to it; and whilst I thus boast of it to the Public, let me express my humblest thanks to you for it. I am, Madam, with the greatest respect; Your most obedient servant, R. POTTER. SCARNING, nth Jail/, 177$. PROMETHEUS CHAIN'D. PERSONS OF THE DRAMA, STRENGTH and FORCE. VULCAN. PROMETHEUS. OCEANUS. 10. MERCURY. CHORUS. NYMPHS OF THE OCEAN. PROMETHEUS CHAIN'D. iEsCHYLUS wrote three Tragedies on the story of Prometheus : the first exhibited him as carry- ing the sacred gift of fire to men ; the second as chained to Caucasus ; the third as delivered from his chains. Of these the second only remains to us. The short account, which Prometheus gives in this of the^ barbarous state of man before he taught them the civilizing arts, makes us regret the loss of the first ; and we have good reason to imagine that the portrait of Hercules in the third, deli- neatec^ by this great master, must have been inimit- able./There is in this remaining drama a sublimity of conception, a strength, a fire, a certain savage dignity peculiar to this bold writer. The scenery is the greatest that the human imagination ever formed : the wild and desolate rock frowning over the sea, the stern and imperious sons of Pallas and Styx holding up Prometheus to its rifted side whilst Vulcan fixes his chains, the Nymphs of the Ocean flying to its summit to commiserate his un- / 4 happy state, old Oceanus on his hippogriff, the appearance of lo, the descent of Mercury, the whirlwind tearing up the sands, swelling the bois- terous sea, and dashing its waves to the stars, the vollied thunders rolling all their fiery rage against the rock, and the figure of Prometheus unap palled at tnis terrible stern), and bidding defiance to Ju- piter, would require the utmost effort of Salvator Rosa's genius to represent them. Yet is the hor- rid greatness of this drama tempered with much tenderness ; the reluctance of Vulcan to execute the severe commands of Jupiter is finely contrasted to the eager unfeeling insolence of Strength and Force ; the character of lo is mournfully gentle ; and the Oceaniddae are of a most amiable mildness joined to a firm but modest prudence ; even the untame- able ferocity of Prometheus discovers under it a benevolence that interests us deeply in his suffer- ings. OF THE ^^ PROMETHEUS CHAIN'D STRENGTH, FORC^, VULCAN, PROMETHEUS*. R. At length then to the wide earth's extreme bounds, To Scythia are we come, those pathless wilds Where human footstep never mark'd the ground. Now, Vulcan, to thy task ; at Jove's command Fix to these high-projecting rocks this vain Artificer of man ; each massy link Draw close, and bind his adamantine chains. f The radiant pride, the fiery flame, that lends { Its aid to ev'ry ail, he stole, and bore , The gift to mortals ; for which bold offence The gods assign hnn this just punishment; * According to the theogony of Hesiod, Chaos was the ancestor of Nature; next to him wasGaia: her progeny by Ouranus was numerous, amongst these were Oceanus and Japetus : by Clymene, daughter of Oce- anus, Jupetus was tlic farher of Prometheus, with whose history the Athe- nians weie well acqiainced from the narrative of Hesiod, which vvas, we may suppose, the popular creed of the times ia which our poet wrote. The Eng- Jish reader is by this time as well acquainted with this strange story. STRENGTH and FORCE. These two allegorical personages were'of high antiquity and illustrious birth, the sons of Pallas and Styx. Cceus, the son of Ouranus and Gaia, 6 Prometheus Chained. That he may learn to reverence the powV Of Jove, and moderate his iove to man. VULC. Stern pow'rs, your harsh commands have here an end, Nor find resistance. My less hardy mind, Averse to violence, shrinks back, and dreads To bind a kindred god to this wild clifF, Expos'd to ev'ry storm : but strong constraint Compels me ; I must steel my soul, and dare : Jove*s high commands require a prompt observance. High-thoughted son of truth-directing Themis*, Thee with indissoluble chains, perforce, Must 1 now rivet to this savage rock. Where neither human voice, nor human form Shall meet thine eye, but parching in the beams. Unsheltered, of yon' fervid sun, iby bloom Shall lose its grace, and make thee wish th' approach Of grateful evening mild, whose dusky stole '^ Spangled with gems shall veil his fiery heat ; ^' And night npon the whitening ground breathe frore, But soon to melt, touch'd by his orient ray. So shall some present ill with varied pain {^ Afflict thee ; nor is he yet born, whose hand } Shall set thee free : thus thy humanity was the fatlier of Pallas by Eurybia, daughter of Pontus and Gaia : Styx was the daughter of Oceauus and Tethys. When Jupiter assembled the 'gods on 0!ympiis, and declared his gracious intention to reward and honour each that should be auxiliary to liim in his wars against the Titans, Styx, bj the advice of her father, was the first that attended him, leading with her these her two sons; Jupiter received her with great respect, appointed her to be the sacred oath of the gods, and admitted her sons to be constant at- tendants on his own person. Hesiod. Theog. v, 400, * Themis was one of the most ancient and respectable deities, the daughter of Ouranus and Gaia, that is of Heaven .and Earth. As she was the second pruphelic power that held her oracular seat at Delphos, she was ho- noured as the goddess of Truth and Justice. Prometheus Chained. ' Receives its meed, that thou, a god, regardless i Of the gods' auger, hoiiouredst mortal man ( ^ With courtesies, which justice not approves Therefore the joyless station of this rock Unsleeping, unreclining, shait thou keep, And many' a groan, many' a loud lament Throw out in vain, nor move the rig'rous breast Of Jove, relentless in his youthful pow'r. STR. / No more : why these delays, this foolish pity ? Dost thou not hale a god by gods abhorr'd. That prostitutes thy radiant boast to man ? VULC. Strong are the ties of kindred and long converse. STR. Well : but to disobey tJiy sire's commands, Darest thou do that ? Is not that fear more strong VULC. ISoft pity never touch'd thy ruthless mind. SI R. Will ihy vain pity bring relief? Forbear, Nor waste thyself in what avails not him. VULC. Abhorr'd be all the fine skill of my hands. '^ STR. And why abhorr'd ? For of these present toils Thy art, in very truth, is not the cause. VULC. Yet wish I it had been some other's lot. STR. All have their lot appointed, save to reign In heav'n, for liberty is Joves alone. VULC. Truth guides thy words, nor have 1 to gainsay. STR. Why thus reluctant then to bind his chains ? Let not thy sire observe these slow delays. V ULC. Ihe mauacles are ready, thou mayst see them. STR. Bmd them around his hands ; with all thy force Strike, nail them fast, drive them into the rock. VULC. Thus far ihe work is finish'd, and not slightly. STR. «K^ harder, strain them/let them not relax ; His craft will work unthought of ways t' escape. VULC. This arm too is inextricably fix'd. STR. And now clasp this secure, that he may learn 8 Prometheus Cbain'd. How impotent his craft, oppos'd to Jove* TULC. This work he only can with justice blame. STR. Across his breast draw now this stubborn bar Of adamant, fix firm its sharpen'd point. vuLC. Thy miseries, Prometheus, 1 bewail. STR. Still dost thou linger ? Still bewail the foes Of Jove f Take heed lest thou bewail thyself. VULC. Thou seest an object horrible to sight. STR. 1 see him honour'd as his deeds deserve. But haste thee, fix this strong habergeon on him. VULC. Constraint lies on me ; urge not thou its rigour. STR. Urge thee r I will, and in an higher tone. Downwards ; with all thy force enring his legs. VULC. This too is finish'd, with no ling'ring speed. STR. Strike hard, drive deep their penetrating points. Severe his eye, who nicely scans these works.* VULC. Thy voice is harsh, and rugged as thy form. STR. Now faijjiefal thy softness ; yet upbraid not My ruder and unpitying ruthlessness. VULC. Let us be gone : the rig'rous task is done. STR. / Now triumph in thy insolence ; now steal The glory of the gods, and bear the gift To mortal man : will they relieve thee now f False is the boasted prudence of thy name, Or wanted now to free thee from thy fate, PROM. Ethereal air, and ye swift-winged winds, lalone* * No writer knew better how to preserve propriety of character thaa ^schylus. Prometheus disdained to answer the ferocious insolence of these ^ ministers of Jupiter, nor could even tlie tender commiseration of Vulcaa c>icit a word from him. There is a dignity, and even a sublimity in this sileticc beyond the expression of words. But as soon as the i^^H||Uits of^ [ tyranny left him, he bursts into a strain of pathetic lamentatioi^^ invokes all nature to attest his undeserved sufferings- There is a further propriety in this address ; the Winds were the sons of Nercus and Doris, the Riven •f Oceanus and Telhys, the §un of Hyperion and Thea, whese parents r/ev Prometheus Chained. Ye rivers springing from fresh founts, ye waves *, That o'er th' interminable ocean wreath Your crisped sliiiles, thou aU-producing earth, And thee, bright sun, I call, tvhose flaming orb Views the wide world beneath, see what, a god, 1 suffer from the gods ; with what fierce pains. Behold, what tortures for revolving ages 1 here must struggle ; such unseemly chains This new-rais d ruler of the gods devis'd. Ah me ! That groan bursts from my anguish'd heart, My present woes and future to bemoan. When shall these sufferings find their destin'd end ? But why that vain inquiry ? My clear sight Looks through the future; unforeseen no ill Shall come on me : behoves me then to bear- Patient my destin'd fate, knowing how vain To struggle with necessity's strong pow'r. But to complain, or not complain,, alike Is unavailable. For favours shown To mortal man I bear this weight of woe ; Hid in an hollow cane the fount of fire 1 privately convey'd, of evVy art Productive, and the noblest gift to men. ( And for this slight offence, woe, woe is me ! I bear these chains, fix'd to this savage rock, Unsheltered from the inclemencies of th' air. Ah me ! what sound, what softly-breathing odour f Ouranus and Gala : these were all kindred gods, benevolent to Prometheus, and deeply affected with his miseries., ^MjJkrtur ad levem sonum undarum ventis exagitatarum, qui etiara ali- qiVi^^P crispant maris dorsum quasi amabili quildam yiX»flf,-Stanley, Tlie image is here so beautifully^ poetital, that the translator could not give it up for the cool correction of Pauw. t This sofliy-bieathijig oiiour marks the approach of some divinitj. 10 Prometheus Chaiii'd. Steals on my sense ? Be you immortal gods, Or mortal men, or of th' heroic race, "Whoe'er have reach'd this wild rock's extreme cliff. Spectators of my woes, or what your purpose. Ye see me bound, a wretched god, abhorr'd ; By Jove, and ev'ry go(i that treads his courts. For my fond love to man. Ah me ! again 1 hear the sound of liult'ring nigh ; the air Pauls to ihe sr,ft beat of light-moving wings : AU, that approaches now, is dreadful to me. PROMETHEUS, CHORUS. CiiOR, Forbear thy fears : a friendly train* On busy pennons Hutt'ring light. We come, om' sire not ask'd in vain, And reach this promontory's height. J The clanging iron's horrid sound Re-echo'd thro' our caves profound ; When Juno, in the fourteenth Iliad, retires to her apartment to dress with more than ordinary care, ' i . Here first she bathes. Bind round her body pours. Soft oil of fragrance, and ambrosial show'rs : The winds perfuni'd the balmy gale convey Thro' heav'n, thro' earth, and all th' aerial way ; Spirit divine ! whose exhalation greets The sense of gods with more than mortal sweets. Pope. Thus Venus in the first ^neid discovers herself to ^ueas, Ambrosiaeque comae divinum vertice odorem Spiravere. Her waving locks immortal odours shed, And breath'd ambrosial scents around her head. Pitt. •iEschylus with great judgment introduces tliese daughters of Ocrnnus as attending Prometheus ; by then- consanguinity they must be £t(||Midly train, tu the simplicity of ancient manners their father's consent rfml first be obtained ; and even thils virgin njodest^' is something hurt. The Nymplis of the waters wore no sandals; hence Thetis is called the silv^^r-footed, as Juno is the golden-slippered (jueeii. Prometheus Chained. 11 And tl'.o my cheek glows with shame's crimson dye. Thus wtth un aiicialid foot with winged speed I fly. PROM. Ah me! Ah me ! Ye virgin sisters, who derive your race From fruitful Thetis, and th' embrace Of old Oceanus, your -ire, that rolls Around the wide woild his unquiet waves, This way turn your eyes, behold With what a chain fix d to this rugged steep Th' unenvied station of the rock 1 keep. OHOR. I see, 1 see; and o'er my eyes, Surcharg'd whh sorrow's tearful rain, Dark'ning the misty clouds arise ; 1 see thy adamantine chain ; < in its strong grasp thy limbs confin'd, And withering in the parching wmd : Such the stern ;pow'r of heav'n's new-sceptred lord, And law-coutroliing Jove's irrevocable word. PROM. Beneath the earth, Beneath the gulfs of Tartarus *, that spread Interminable o'er the dead, Had his stern fury, fix'd this rigid chain, Nor gods, nor m^n had triumphed in my pain. But pendent in th' ethereal air, The pageant gratifies my ruthless foes. That gaze, insult, and glory in my woes. CHOR. Is there a god, whose sullen soul Feels a stern joy in thy despair ? Owns he not pity's soft control, And drops in sympathy the tear ? spetus had three sons, Menoetius, Prometheus, and Epimeiheas. Me-'i- noetius, for his insolence and audacious attempts, was by Jupiter smitten "Tvith thunder, and cast into Tartarus, where the vanquished Titans were imprisoned. Hesioi). — To this Prometheus here alludes. 12 Prometheus Cliaiii'd. All, all, save Jove ; with fury driv'n Severe he tames the sons of heav'n ; V And he will tame them, till some powV arise To wrest from his strong hand the sceptre of the skies. PROM. Yet he, e'en he, That o'er the gods holds his despotic reign, And fixes this disgraceful chain, Shall need my aid, the counsels to disclose Destructive to his honour and his throne. But not the honied blandishment, that flows From his alluring lips, shall ought avail; His rigid menaces shall fail ; Nor will I make the fatal secret known. Till his proud hands this galling chain unbind, And his remorse sooths my indignant mind. CHOR. Bold and intrepid is thy soul, Fir'd with resentment's warmest glow ; And thy free voice disdains control. Disdains the tort'ring curb of woe. My softer bt)som, thrill'd with fear Lest heavier ills await thee here, By milder counsels wishes thee repose : For Jove's relentless rage no tender pity knows. PKOM. Stern tho' he be. And, in the pride of pow'r terrific drest,, Rears o'er ilisulted right his crest, Yet gentler thoughts shall mitigate his soul, ^ When o'er his head this storm shall roll; Then shall his stubborn indignation bend, ' Submit to sue, and court me for a friend. ciioTi. But say, relate at large for what offence ^ Committed doth the wrath of Jove inflict This punishment so shameful, so severe : Instruct us, if the tale shocks not thy soul. Prometheus Chain'd. 13 PROM. Ti& painful to relate it, to be silent Js pain: each circumstance is full of woe*. When stern debate amongst the gods appear'd, And discord in the courts of he^v'n \Vas rous'd ; Wliilst against Saturn some conspiring willd ^ To pluck him from the throne, that Jove might reig«; And some, averse, with ardent ztal opposed Jove's rising povv'r and empire o'er tlie gods ; My counsels, tho' discreetest, wisest^ best, Mov'd not the Titans, those impetuous sons Of Ouranus and Terra, whose high spirits, ])isdaining milder measures, proudly Meen'd To seize by force the sceptre of the sky. Oft did my goddess mother, Themis uow, Now Gaia, under various names design'd f , * Gai:i, offended with licr linsband Ouranus for having imprisoned the ^- bravest of her sons, encouraged Saturn to revenge the atFront, and armed liim witti a scythe of adamant, Miih which he dismembered his father, lltcn seized his throne. But having heard a prophecy that he in his turn should be dethroned by one of his sons, to evade the coiiipletion of it, he swal- lowed down all liis ma)e offspring as sotin as they were botn,till at the birlU' of Jupiter, Rhea deceived him by a strange device, and privately conveyed the child to Crete, where-he was educated, and concealed till he was of age to appear in arms against his father. ^ Saturii was the youngest sou of Ou3:anus,..the two eldest, Titanus and Japelus, ciaijaed theirjjeitdijtary ho- nours,and opposed the sovereignty of Jupiter. The war had now coatinuc«i ten years without intermiision, and no prospcctof a decision appeared;\\ h^u Jupiter released Briar eus, Cottus, and Gyges, the sons whom Saturn liad imprisoned, and by feasting ihera with nectar and ambrosia, secured ihar fidelity : these were of immense courage, slrcngth, and size, each liadfi't^- head^anda hundred hands ,; by^ their assistance the I'itans were tolaliv defeated, and Jwpiter ackuowledge«j as tlie soveteign of the sl^y. Ili'iJOd describes tliis battle with %vonderlui sublimity. t A multjj>,Uc!ty of iKiaifs v.as a nrirk of dignity ; but Themis could ii'sr**'' with propiiety be cal ed Gain, this our poet mistook for Rhea. Gaiy isjjj^ earth in its prinhtiye uncultivated jstate, terra inculta ; Rhea is the eartli m its imprpyed state of cultivation, lellijs Qulta : and as from this ctiltiire^puj- ^perty arose^ Justice had here her oflice to assign and protect ihisproietv. 14 Prometheus Chained. / Herself the same, foretell me the event. That not by violence, that not by pow'r, . But gentler arts, the royalty of heav'n Must be oblain'd. Whilst thus my voice advis'd, ''J'heir headlong rage deign d me not e'en a look. What then could wisdom dictate, but to take My mother, and with voluntary aid Abet the cause of Jove ? Thus by my counsels . Jn the dark deep Tartarean gulph enclosed Old Saturn lies, and his confederate powVs. For these good deeds the tyrant of (he skies liepays me with these dreadful punishments. For foul mistrust of those that serve them best Breathes its black poison in each tyrant's heart. Ask you the cause for which he tortures me ? I will declare it. On his father's throne Scarce was he seated, on the chiefs of heav'n He show'r'd his various honours; thus confirming His royalty ; but for unhappy mortals * Had no regard, and all the present race Will'd to extirpate, and to form anew. None, save myself, oppos'd his will ; I dar'd ; And boldly pleading sav'd them from destruction, Sav'd them from sinking to the realms of night. For this offence 1 bend beneath these pains, Dreadful to suffer, piteous to behold : suum cuique : Themis therefore, as the goddess of Justice, might well have the appellation of Rhea. This is only to show that we understand the mythology of the ancients much better than they did themselves, >v 'We are not informed for what cause Jupiter was so offended with the unhappy race of mortals; but b^/ wa}? of punishment he withdrew from theiu 7ra»'T5;3^v« Trv^oga-EXoc^, the fiery flame, that lends its aid to every art : this Prometheus stole from heavenj and reconveyed to them in an hollow can"^ • hinc ill® laciymae. Prometheus Chain d. 15 ( For mercy to mankind 1 am not deem'd \ Worthy of mercy ; but wiih rutliless hate In this uncouth appointment am fix'd here A spectacle dishonourable to Jove. CHOR. Of iron is he form'd and adamant, Whose breast with social sorrow does not melt At thy afflictions : I nor wish'd to see them, Nor see them but with anguish at my heart. PROM. It is a sight that strikes my friends with pity. CHOR. But had th' otFence no furtker aggravation? p R o M . I hid^frpnr men the fore^^^ tl^^ir ^Hte. CHOR. What cou'dst thou find to remedy that ill ? p R o M . I sent blind H ope t' inhabit in their hearts. CHOR. A blessing hast thou given to mortal man. PRoivr. Nay more, \vith generous zeal I gave theio Fire. CHOR. Do mortals now enjoy the blazing gift? PROM, And by it shall give birth to various aits. CHOR. For such offences doth the wrath of Jove Thus punish thee, relaxing nought of pain ? And is no bound prescribed to thy affliction ? PROM. None else, but when his own will shall incline him. CHOR. Who shall incline his will ^ Hast thou no hope? Dost thou not st^e that thou hast much offended ? But to point out th' oftc-nce to me v\ere painful, And might S( und harsh to thee? forbear we then; Beilunk iliee liuw ihv ills may find an end. PROM. How easy, when the foot is nut entangled In misery's thorny maze, to give monitions And precepts to th' afflicted ! Of these things I w^as not unadvis'd ; and my offence Was voluntary ; m man's cause I drew These evils on ray head : but ills like these. On this aerial rock to waste away. This desert and unsocial precipice, 16 Proiiietheiis Ghain'd. My inintl presagVl it not. But cease your grief. Wail not my present woes; on the rough point Of this firm cliff descend, and there observe What iunher may betide me, e'en the whole . or my hard fate ; indulge me, O indulge Thia my request, and sympathize with me Thus wretched ; for affliction knows no rest, Hut rolls from breast to breast its vagrant tide. en OK, Not to til' unwilling are thy words directed. W ith light foot now this nimble-n.oving sc-at. This I'uie^ir, thro' whose liquid fields the birds WiUHow their wanton way, 1 leave ; and now \A light I OH this jude and craggy rock, Anxious to hear all thy unhappy tales OCEAXUS, PROMETHEUS, CHORUS •CEA. Far distant, thro' the vast e^vpause of air, To lliee, Prometheus, on tliis svvifi-wingVi steed*. Whose neck nnreign'd obeys my will, I come, ~ In social sorrow sympathizing wqth thee. To this the near affinity of blood Moves me; and be assured, that tie apart, There is notVhocan tax my dear regard L-eeper than thou: believe me, this is truth, iSot the f«lse glozings of a flatTring tongue. Instruct me then in what my powV may serve th«c. For never shalt thou say thou liast a friend More firm, more constant than Oceanus. Ti^oM. Ah me! _ What draws thee hillicrr Art thou come h-pectator ofmy toils? Mow h-dst thou ventur'd * IT pn-oit montesnrjene scat (jticI animal aile; bizarr^rie inexplica- ble. — rrumoy.— Of this breed was iho winged liorse of Astoifo. — Odaiid* Ta ioso, b. iv, c. 13, . . Prometheus Chaiii'd. IT To leave the ocean waves, from thee so call'd, Thy rock- roof d grottos arch'd by nature's hand, And land upon this iron-teeming earth ? Coniest thou to visit and bewail my ills ? Behold this sight, behold ihis friend of Jove, Th' assertor of his en)pire, bending here Beneath a weight of woes by hiai inflicted. OCEA. 1 see it all, and wish to counsel thee, Wise as thou art, to milder measures : learn To know thysf If ; new model thy behaviour, As the new monarch of the gods requires. What if thy harsh and pointed speech shou'd reach The ear of Jove, tho" on his distant throne High-seated, might they not inflame his rage T' inflict such tortures, that thy present pains Might seem a recreation and a sport? Cease then, unhappj sufferer, cease thy braves, And meditate the means of thy deliverance. To thee perchance this seems the cold advice Of doting age ; yet, trust me, woes like these Are earnings of the lofty -sounding tongue. But thy unbending spirit disdains to yield E'en to afflictions, to the present rather Ambitious to add more. Yet shalt thou not. If my voice may be heard, lift up thy heel To kick against the pricks ; so rough, thou seest. So uncontroU'd the monarch of the skies. But now I go, and will exert my powV, If haply I may free thee from thy pains. Mean while be calm ; forbear this haughty tone: Has not thy copious wisdom taught thee this, That mischief still attends the petulant tongue ? PROM. J gratulate thy fortune, that on thee No blame hath lighted, tho' associate with me 18 Prometheus ChainVl. In all, and daring equally. But now Forbear, of my condition take no care ; Thou wilt not move him ; nothing moves his rigoui* : Take heed then, lest to go brings harm on thee. OGEA. Wiser for others than thy self 1 find Thy thoughts ; yet shalt thou not wilhold my speed. And 1 have liopes, with pride I speak it, hopes T' obtain this grace, and free thee from thy suiFerings. PROM. For this thou hast my thanks ; thy courtesy With grateful memory ever shall be honour'd. But think not of it, the attempt were vain, JS'or wou'd thy labour profit me ; cease then. And leave me to my fate : however wretched, 1 wish not to impart my woes to others. OCEA. No; for thy brother's fate, th' unhappy Atlas *, Afflicts me : on the western shore he stands, Supporting on his shoulders the vast pillar Of Heav*n and Earth, a weight of cumbrous grasp. Him too, the dweller of Cilicia's caves, I saw, with pity saw, Earth's monstrous son, With all his hundred heads + subdued by Force, * We have before seen one brother of Prometheus driven thunder-struck to Tartarus ; we have here another of that unhappy family, the famous Atlas» condemned to support in his arms the pillars of the heavens. t After the defeat of the Titans, Gaia, from an adventure with Tartarus, brought forth lliis her youngest sou, the most enormous and most terrible of all the giant race : he had an hundred dragon-heads; his eyes glared fire j from all his heads he uttered every horrid soiuid, sometimes intelligible to thf gods, somtlnnes the lowing of a bull, sometimes the roaring of a lion, souietimes the l»owl. of d|Ugs, sometimes the hiss of serpents ; his force was so formidable, as uloile to endanger the sovereignty of the sky, and to compel Jupiier to exert Ins whole strength and all hi vollied thunder, of whicU Hesiod has given us a noble description. Happily for poetry, this monster, instead of being driven down to Tartarus, was defeated in the plains of Sicily, where iho luouiitiiiu ^luu was hurled upon him. The genius of Prometheus Chained. Ip The fiirjoiis Typhon, who 'gainst all the gods Made war ; his horrid jaws with serpent-hiss Breatli'd slaughter, from his eyes the go rgon glare ' Of baleful lightnings flashed, as his proud force Wou'd rend from Jove his empire of the sky. But him the vengeful bolt, instinct with fire, Smote sore, and dash'd him from his haughty vaunts, Pierc'd ihro' his soul, and wither'd all his strength. Thus stretch'd out huge in length beneath the roots Of iEtna> near Trinacria's narrow sea, j^stonied, blasted, spiritless he lies ; (n whose high summit Vulcan holds his seat, And forms the glowing mass. In times to come Hence streams of torrent (ire with hideous roar Shall burst, and with its wasteful mouths devour AW the fair ihA(h of fruitful Sicily. Sucli rage shall Typhon, blasted as he is With Jove's fierce lightning, pour incessant forth In smoking whirlwinds and tempestuous flame. IPROM. Thou art not unexperienc'd, nor hast need Of my instruction ; save thyself, how best Thy wisdom shall direct thee. 1 will bear My present fate, till Jove's harsh wrath relents. ocEA/Know'st thou not this, Prometheus, that soft speech {Is to disteniper'd wrath medicinal ? PROM. When seasonably the healing balm's applied; , Else it exasperates the swelling heart. OCEA. But in the fair endeavour, in th' attempt. What disadvantage, tell me, dost thou see ? PROM. Unfruitful labour, and light-thoughted folly. €)CEA. Be that my weakness then. Oft' when the wise Appears not wise, he works the greatest good. Hcdiod seems to hate taken fire from hence, and communicated the flame, to ^Cschyliis, Piiidar, and Virgil. 20 Prometheus Chained. PKOM. This will be deem'd my simple policy. OCEA. These words indeed jemand me to my grott»* PROM. Cease to bewail me, lest thou wake his wrath. OCEA. What, the new monarch's oi heav*n's potent throu€^ PROM. Take care his mdignation be not rous'd, OCEA. Thy misery shall be my monitor. PROM. Go then, be cautious, hold thy present judgment. •CEA. 1 hy words add speed to ray dispatch. Already My |>iurned steed his ievelFd win^^s displays To fan ihe liquid air, thro' fond desire In his own lodge his wearied speed to rest. PROMETHEUS, CHORUS. «H0R. For thee 1 heave the heart-fell sigh, My bosom melting at thy woes j For thee my tear-distilling eye In streams of tender sorrow flows : For Jove's imperious ruthless soul. That scorns the powV of mild control, Chastens with horrid tort'ring pain Not known to gods, before his iron reign. E'en yet this ample region o'er Hoarse strains of sullen woe resound*^ Thy state, thy brother's stale deplore, Age-honourd glories ruin'd round. Thy woes, beneath the sacred shade f Of Asia's pastured forests laid, The chaste inhabitant bewails •The chorus here alludes to the punishment of Menoetius and Atlta mentioned before. t This stanza and the next relate to Prometheus, the last to Atlas. All Asia lamented the sufferings of the former ; the earth, the sea, and the gloomy depths of Pluto sympathize with Atlas, for whilit he bore the beareus on kis shoulders, all below must b« violently pressed beneath his feet.— PaITW. Prometheus Chained. il Thy groans re-echoing thro' his plaintive vales. The Colchian virgin, whose bold hand Umlaunttd grasps the warhke spear ; ' On earth's last verge the Scythian band^ The torpid lake Mieotis near; Arabia's martial race, that wield The sharp lance in th' embattled field, Thro' all their rock-built cities moan, The crags of Caucasus return the groan. One other, e'er thy galling chain, Of heaven's high sons with tortures quell'd, That rack each joint, earh sinew stram, Titanian Atlas I beheld; His giant strength condemu'd to bear The solid, vast, and pond'rdus sphere. The springs whose fre?h sireams swell around. The hoarse wave^ from their depths profound, And all ihe gloo.jjy realms below, Sigh to his sighs, and murmur to his woe. PROM. It is not pride ; deem nobler of me, virgins ; It is not pride, that held me silent thus ; The though: of these harsh chains, that hang me here, Cuts to m^ heart. Yet who, like me, advanc'd To their high dignity our new-rais'd gods ? But let me spare the tale, to you well known. The ills of man you've heard . I form'd his mind. And through the cloud of barb'rous ignorance Diffus'd the beams of knowledge. I will speak. Not taxing them with blanje, but my own gifts Displaying, and benevolence to them. They saw indeed, they heard ; but what avail'd 1^ S2 Prometheus Chaiii'd. Or sight, or sense of hearing, all things rolling Like the unreal imagery of dreams, In wild confusion mix'd ? The lightsome wall Of finer masonry, the rafter'd roof They knew not; but, like ants still buried, delv'd^ Deep in the earth, and scoop'd their sunless caves. Unmark'd the seasons chang'd, the biting winter, The flow'r perfumed spring, the ripening summer Fertile of fruits. At random all their works, Till I instructed them to mark the stars, ^^'^ Their rising, and, an harder science yet f, * The translator has followed ihe emendation of Paaw ; fortlioug!) &u0v^it be a proper and general epithet for the provident ants, who arc therefore by Ovid stalled frugilegee, and it is to the purpose of Horace, when he says of tliis little animal, Ore trahit quodcunquc potest, yet in this place' it has no per- tinent analogy to untutored barbarians dwelling in caves: it was not then the industrious forecast of the ant to which ^^schylus had occasion to allude, but its nest scooped in the ground : itiro^cg conveys the precise idea. t Of the many advantages for which the translator is indebted to ^Eschjlus the greatest and most valuable is the honour which he receives from the ac- quaintance of some persons of the highest rank', and the most distinguished eminence in literature ; amcng these he is proud to reckon Richard Paul Jodrell, Esq. This gentleman has been so kind as to communicate his ovin observations on one tragedy, the Siege of Thebes, with leftve to the compiler of these notes to select from them such as might be found to coincide v-rith his plan ; a liberal use has been made of these, enough to make the reader regret that the pressing call for tl\is publication would not admit of a delay, till the sanm learned person's observations on the other tragedies could be revised ; but ex pede Herculem. The translator had religiously adhered to his original in the Iv^tt^irovi ^i- 0tiSt V. 4n7. but was totally at a loss to account for the superior dithcuuy of marking the setting of the stars. He took the liberty to commuuicate hit: embarrassment to Mr. Jodrell, and was immediately favoured with this clear and judicious solution of the passage. •* It is dilficult to ascertain the degree of knowledge, which tlie phiio'-o- pliers contemporary with .Tl':schyliis had of the fixed stars* for Hipparchus Prometheus Chain d. 25 Their setting. The rich train of marshall'd numbers 1 taught them, and the meet array of letters. the Rhodian, who flourished onl^ 120 years before Christ, which was near 420 years alter the birth of /Eschylus, was the first who dared to undertake a thing, which, says PJiny, seemed to surpass the power of a divinity, that of numbering the stars for posterity, and reducing them to a rule. Because th« civil year of the ancients did not correspond witljthe apparent annual motion of the sun/it was impossible by the calendar to ascertain the precise times for thi^ purposes of agriculture, as the same day ot the month would not happen in the same st-ason of tiie year; it was necessary therefore to have recourse to more certain standards and uivariable characters to distinguish times, which the risings iund the settings of the stars naturally afforded; rrometheus, therefore, with great propriety might boast of this signal and imjjortant discovery to mankind : of wliich Virgil, in his first Georgic, wliea he delivers his poetical precepts for the husbandman, makes a particuUr injunction, Prjeterca tam sunt Arcturi sidera nobis, Haidorumque dies servandi, et lucidus anguis, &c. Hesiod had before given precepts of similar nature. " Now the rising of a star, as defined by Chrysippus, is its advancement above the earth, and its setting the occultation of it under the earth. (See Stanley's History of Philosophy, part viii. c. 8.) And astronomers have divided the risings and settings of stars, according to their technical expres- sions, into Cosmical, Achronical, and Heliacal, which are thus expla'ned by Keil in his nineteenth, lecture, p. 222. "A star is said to rise or set cosmicaily, which rises or sets when the sun rises ; aclironiciilly, wht.n it rise- whiie (he sun sets, that is in the evening, when it is in opposition to the sun, aud is. visible all night ; heliacally, when after It has been in conjunction with the sun, and on that account invisible, it comes to be at such a distance from him as to be. seen in the morning before sun rising, when the sun, by his ap- parent motion, recedes from the star towards the east : but the Heliacal .•.e.t- ling is, when the sun approaches so near n star, that it hides it with its beam^ which keep the fainter light of the star fr mu being perceived " This I con- ceive to be the lueaning of the poet in his epithet ot Iuitk^itovs, or ' " ■ an harder science yet. Their settint For by this- philosophical solution the observation of the settings of the stars must be attended with more difficulty than th tt of t!ie ris.iigs ; this appears to me to be the most natural explication of this passage/* ■<: *f. ^ ' M^ S4 Prometheus Chained. / T' impress these precepts on their hearts 1 sent Memory, the active mother of all wisdom. I taught the patient steer t > bear the yoke. In ail his toiU jomt-labourer with man. By ine the harness'd steed was trained to wliirl The rapid car, and grace the pride of wealth. The tall bark, lightly boundiiig o'er the waves, I taught its course, and wing'd its flying- sail. To man I gave these arts ; with all my wisdom Yet want I now one art, that useful art . To free mystif trom these afflicung chains. CHOR. Unseemly are thy suffernigs, sprung from error And mipotence of mind. And now inclos'd With all these ills, as some unskilful leach That sinks beneath his malady, thy soul Desponds, nor seeks medicinal relief. PROM. H^ar my whole story, thou wilt wonder more. What useful arts, what science I invented. This tirst and greatest : when the fell disease Prey'd on the human frame, relief was none. Nor healmg drug, nor cool refreshing draught. Nor pain-assuaging unguent ; but they pin'd Without redress, and wasted, till I taught theai To mix the balmy medicine, of pow'r To chase each pale disease, and soften pain. J taught the various modes of prophecy. What truth the dream portends, the omen what Of nice distmction, what the casual sight That meets us on the way ; the flight of birds. When to the right, when to the left they take Their airy course, their various ways of life. Their feuds, then' fondnesses, their social flocks. I taught th' Haruspex to inspect the entrails, Their smoothness, and their colour to the gods Prometheus Chain'd. 25 ) Grateful, the gall, the liver streak'd with veins, \ The limbs involv'd in fat, and the long chine ; Piac'd on the blazing altar ; from the smoke \, And momiring flame to mark ih' unerring omen. These arts i taught. And all the secret treasures iDeiip buried in the bowels of the earth, I Brass, iron, silver, gold, their use to man, Let the vain tongue make what high vaunts it may, Are my inventions all ; and, in a word, / Prometheus taui>ht each useful art to man. v„ ■ ■ -.. ,... .. .- ^ , .. - — ■ - €HOR. Let not thy love to man o'erleap the bounds * Of reason, nor neglect thy wretched state : So my fond hope suggests thou shalt be free From these base chains, nor less in powV than Jove. PRO Mi Not ihjyis, it is not in the Fates that thus \ These things should end : crush'd with a thousand wrongs, A thousand woes, i shall escape tliese chains. Necessity is stronger fiir than art. CHO R. Who then is ruler of necessity ? PROM. The triple Fates and unforgetting furies. CHOR. Must Jove then yield to their superior pow'r? PROM. He no way shall escape his destin'd fate. CHOR. What, but eternal empire, in his fate ? PROM. Thou may'st not know this now : forbear t' inquire. CHOR. Is it of moment what thou keep'st thus close ? PROM/ No more of this discourse ; it is not time ) Now to disclose that which requires the seal < Of strictest secresy ; by guarding which ^ 1 shall escape the misery of these chains. CHORUS., STRO, Never, never may my soul Jove's all-ruling powV defy ; Never feel his harsh control, . ' Sovereign ruler of the sky. E 26 Prometheus Chaiiid. When the hallovv'd steer has bled*, When the sacred feast is spread, 'Midst the crystal waves below, Whence father Ocean's boundless billows fld>w, Let not my foot be slow : There, th' ethereal guests among. No rude speech disgrace my tongue May my mind this rev'rence keep ; Print it strong, and grave it deep. ANTis. When thro' life's extended scene Hope her stedfast lustre throws. Swells the soul with joy serene. With sublimest triumph glows. Seest thou this pure lustre shine ? Are these heart-felt raptures thine ? My cold blood curdles in my veins. To see thy hideous woes, thy tort'ring pains. And adamantine chains. Thy free soul, untaught to fear, Scorn'd the danger threat'ning near ; And for mortals dar'd defy The sovereign monarch of the sky. EPOD. Vain thy ardour, vain thy grace, They nor force nor aid repay ; Like a dream man's feeble race, Short-liv'd reptiles of a day. Shall their weak devices move Th' order'd harmony of Jove ? Touch'd with pity of thy pain, * The chorus here alludes to the solemn annual festival, which the godi held with their failier Oceanus, and at which they showed their piety and reverence by their attendduce and ministry. — Pauw.— — See Homer, 1 II. ▼. 423. with Mr. Pope's note. Prometheus Chain'd. 27 jMl sad and slow I pour the moral strain ; Chang'd from that melting vein, When the light mellifluous measure Round thy bath, and round thy bed For our sea-nymph sister spread, Awoke young love and bridal pleasure. And pourM the soul of harmony, To greet the bright Hesione. 10, PROMETHEUS, CHORUS. o. Whither, ah whither am I borne*! To what rude shore, what barb rous race ? O thou. Whoe'er thou art, that chain'd to that bleak rock, The seat of desolation, ruest thy crimes. Say on what shore my wretched footsteps stray. — Again that sting ! — Ah me, that form again ! — With all his hundred eyes the earth-born Argus — Cover it, Earth ! See, how it glares upon me. The horrid spectre !^ — Wilt thou not, O Earth, Cover the dead, that from thy dark abyss - * He comes to haunt me, to pursue my steps. And drive me foodless o'er the barren strand ? Hoarse sounds the reed-compacted pipe -f, a note Sullen and drowsy. — Miserable me ! * Tlie poet here introduces to us the most singular and illustrious personage ef ancient Greece, from whom the noblest families were proud ot deriving their pedigree; the bare mention of her was a compliment to their vanity, and therefore always well accepted ; it had a peculiar propriety here, as it prepared the Athenian spectator to receive ber great descendant Hercules, who^was to appear in Jhe next play, which unhappily is lost. In the Sup- plicants we shall have occasion to speak more particularly of her. t So Ovid seems to have understood this passage, ■ ■junctisque canendo Vincere arundinibus servantia lumina tentat. 28 Prometheus Chained. Whither will these wide-wand'ring errors lead me? How, son of Saturn, how have 1 offended, That with these stings, these tortures thou pursues! me, i\nd drivest to madness my affrighted soul I Hear me, supreme of gods, O hear thy suppliant, Blast me with lightnings, bury me in ih' earth, Or cast me to the monsters of the sea ; But spare these toils, spare these wide-wand'ring errors. Which drive me round the world, and know no rest. CKOR. Hear^st thou the voice of this lamenting virgin ? For such she is, iho' in that form disguis'd. PROM.l hear her griefs, that whirl her soul to madness. Daughter of Inachus, whose love inflames The heart of Jove ; hence Juno's jealous rage Drives the poor wanderer restless o'er the world. JO. Whence is it that I hear my father's name? Speak to ray misery, tell me who thou art ; What wretch art ihoii, that to a wretch like me Utterest these truths, naming the malady, Which, heav'n-inflicted, stings my tortur'd soul To frenzy ? Hence with hurrying steps I rove Foodless, pursued by never-ceasing wrath. Ah me ! What child of misery ever suffer'd Misery like mine ? But tell me, clearly tell me What woes await me yet, what ease, what cure ? ^ay, if thou know'st, speak, tell a wand 'ring virgin. PROM. All, thou can'st wish to learn, I'll tell thee clearly. Wrapt in no veil abstruse ; but in clear terms *, And still betwixt, bis tuneful pipe he plies. And watch'd his hour to close the keeper's eyes. Dryuen. In her distraction she thought <>he saw the spectre of her keeper Argos, she though; she heard the sound of the pipe with which Mercury lulled all hi^ ^ hundred eyes to sleep. * Prometheus had mentioned her father's name, and the cause ofhersMf- Prometheus Chained. 29 As friend to friend. Tliine eyes behold Prometheus, Whose warm benevolence gave fire to men. lo. ; O thou, the common blessing of mankind. Wretched Prometheus, wherefore are these sufferings ? PROM. Scarce have I ceas'd lamenting my misfortunes, lo. And wilt thou not allow me that sad office ? PROM. Ask what thou wilt, thou shalt learn all from me. lo. Say then, who bound thee in that rifted rock ? PROM.TIie ruthless will of Jove, but Vulcan's hand. 1 o. In what offending art thou chasten'd thus ? PROM. Suffice it thee so much has been declar'd. lo. Say then what time shall end my wretched wandVingi. PRQM. Better repose in ignorance, than know. lo. Whate'er my woes to come, hide them not from me. PROM. That favour unreluctant couM 1 grant thee, lb. Why this delay then to declare the whole ? PROM. Ungrateful task to rend thy soul with anguish, lo. Regard not me more than is pleasing to me. PROM. Conjur'd thus strongly t must speak. Hear then. CHOR. Not yet : this mournful pleasure let me share : Let us first learn the story of her woes ; Her lips will teach us each sad circumstance Of misery past ; the future be thy task. PRGM. Vouchsafe t' indulge their wish ; they merit it ; And are besides the sisters of thy father *. Nor light the recompense, when they, who hear. Melt at the melancholy tale, and drop, in pity drop, the sympathizing tear. ferings ; from whence 16, rightly conceiving him to be a prophet, had re- quested liim to tell her clearly what woes yet awaited her, and how they - might be remedied : he answers, I will tell thee clearly, without that enig« matical obscurity which had rendered oracles famous for Dark-utter'd answers of ambiguous sense. * Inachus, the father of lo, was the son of Oceanus and Tethys. 30 Prometheus Chained. 10. Jll wou'd excuse become me, or denial ; Take then the plain unornameuted tale Ye wish to hear ; tho' sad the task enjoin'd, And hard : for how relate the heav'n-sent tempest That burst upon my head, my form thus chang'd, And all the weight of woe that overwhelms me ? ^ Still, when retir'd to rest, air-bodied forms * Visit my slumber nightly, soothing me With gentle speech, '' Blest maid, why hoard for ever '^ Thy virgin treasure, when the highest nuptials *^ Await thy choice ; the fiames of soft desire " Have toucb'd the heart of Jove ; he burns with lov& " Disdain not, gentle virgio, ah disdajn not ^' The couch of Jove; to Lerna's deep recess, " Where graze thy father's herds the meads along, " Go, gentle virgin, crown the god's desires." The night returns, the visionary forms , J^eturn again, and haunt my troubled soul Forbidding rest, till to my father's ear I dar'd disclose the visions of the night. To P}tho, to Dodona's vocal grove He s^nt his seers, anxious to know what best Was pleasing to the gods. Return'd they bring Dark-utter'd answers of ambiguous sense. Ai length one oracle distinct and plain Pronounc'd its mandates, charging Inachus To drive me from his house and from my country, "* lb tells her tale with great propriety, and by preserving the decorutB of her own cliaracter, consults liie dignity of her illustrious descendants. The ciicumstauce of the vision, and the influence of the god over her shun- ters, is a iiue stroke of natuie, eaiboUisliLMl with a rich poetical imagination ; These are the day-dreams of a maid in iove. Ovid, who had no prejudice of hig!i-descended ancestry to flatter, has take* the liberty to depart from this bieuseance ; Pellicis argolicsR is a coarse ap- pellation, aud his poem is so much the worse for it. Prometheus Chain'd. 31 To rove at large o'er earth's extremest bounds : Shou'd he refuse, the vengeful bolt of Jove, Wing'd with red flames wou'd all his race de^stroy. Obedient to the Pythian god he drove me Unwilling from his house, himself unwilling CompelI'd by Jove, and harsh necessity. Strait was my sense disorder'd, my fair form Chang'd, as you see, disfigur'd with these horns ; And tortur'd with the bryze's horrid sting. Wild with my pain with frantic speed 1 hurried - To Cenchrea's vale with silver-winding streams* Irriguous, and the fount whence Lerna spreads Its wide expanse of waters ; close behind In wrathful mood walk'd Argus, earth-born herdsman, With all his eyes observant of my steps. Him unawares a sudden fate depriv'd Of life ; whilst 1, stung with that heav'n-sent pest. Am driv'n with devious speed from land to land. Thou hast my tale. If ought of woes to come Thy prescient mind divines, relate them freely ; Nor thro' false pity with fallacious words Sooth my vain hopes, my soul abhors as base The fabling tongue of glozing courtesy. CHOR. No more, no more, forbear. Ah never, never Conceived 1 that a tale so strange shou'd reach . ' My ears ; that miseries, woes, distresses, terrors, Dreadful to sight, intolerable to sense, Shou'd shock me thus : woe, woe, unhappy fate ! How my soul shudders at the fate of lo ! PEOM. Already dost thou sigh, already tremble? * The translator hath here adopted the very judicious reading of Pauw with regard toCenchrea; but notwithstanding his aliud melius et facilius tibi dabo, prefers the Ae^v»ij t£ K^rivnv of Canterus lo his Ae^v>?j or Ai^vny 9t$^nv TJ. 52 Prometheus Chained. Check these emotions till the whole is heard. CHOR. Speak, show us : to the sick some gleam of comfort Flows from the knowledge of their pains to come. PROM. Your first request with ease has been oblani'd ; For from her lips you wish'd to heac the tTile Of her afflictions. Hear the rest; what woes From Juno's rage await this suff'ring virgin. And thou with deep attention mark my words, Daughter of Inachus ; and learn from them The traces of thy way. First then, from hence Turn Jo the onent. sun, and pass the height * i Of these uncultur'd mountains ; thence descend To where the wandering Scythians, trained to bear The distant-wounding bow, on wheels aloft Roll on their wattled cottages; to these Approach not nigh, but turn thy devious steps Along the rough verg-e of the murm'ring main, And pass the barb'rous country : on ihe left The Chalybes inhabit, whose rude hands ' Temper the glowing steel ; beware of these, A savage and inhospitable race *. Thence shalt thou reach the banks of that proud stream, AVhich from its f roaring torrent takes its name ; But pass it not, tempt not its dangerous depths Unfordable, till now thy weary steps Shall reach the distant bound of Caucasus, Monarch of mountains ; from whose extreme height The bursting flood rolls down his pow'r of waters. Passing those star-aspiring heights, descend Where to the south the Amazonian tents, * The horrid custom of sacrificing strangers, whose ill fortune drove them on their coasts, marks the savage and inhospitable mamiers of these barbarians. t Araxis. Prometheus Chained. .33 Hostile to men, stretch o'er the plain ; whose troops In after times shall near Thermodon s banks Fix in Themiscyra's tow'rs their martial rule, Where Salmydesia points her cruel rocks, And glories in her wrecks : this female train With courteous zeal shall guide thee in thy way. Arriving where the dark Cimmerian lake Spreads from its narrow mouth its vast expanse. Leave it, and boldly plunge thy vent'rous foot In the Masotic straits; the voice of fame Shall eternize thy passage, and from thee Call it the Bosphorus * : there sha]tjbuau^S[u]^^ y^r *r^ ^^ /ui ^ The shores of Europe^ midjntrepidj^ea^^ ^^^-d' ^"■^■"j-^^'^^^^l TlLe^mntinent of Asia.^Seems he now, -t^^^^^^^f-^^^ This tyrant of the skies, seems he m all f . Of fierce and headlong violence, when his love Plunges a mortal in such deep distresses ? A rugged wooer, virgin, have thy charms Won thee ; for be assur'd what I have told thee Is but a prelude to the woes untold, lo. Ah miserable me ! PROM. Again that exclamation, that deep groan ! • Bosphorus, the passage of the heifer. t The Chorus had declared themselves to be deeply affected at the nar- rative of lo ; Prometheus therefore, having enumerated more and greater woes which yet awaited her, addresses them thus : Think you that this ty- rant of the skies is of a fierce and headlong violence, when he has thus driven a mortal, even whilst he is a suiter for her love, to these wanderings ? Then turning to the unhappy sufferer, he says, A rugged wooer, virgin, have thy charms Won thee. There is in this a malignant triumph, well suited to the implacable resent- mieat of the speaker, which would not allow him to acknowledge that Ju- piter did not voluntarily inflict these miseries on his favourite fair, but that with great reluctance he was obliged to make this sacrifice to the jealous and < •a raged Juno. F S4 Prometheus Chained. What wilt thou do, when thou shalt learn the rest ? CHOR. Remains there ought of ills yet to be told ? PROM. A wide tempestuous sea of baleful woes. lo. What then has life desirable? Why rather From this rude cliff leap I not headlong down, And end my woes ? Better to die at once^ Than linger out a length of life in pain. PROM. Ill wou'dst thou bear my miseries, by the Fates ^ Exempt from death, the refuge of th' afflicted. ^^Butjny afflictions know no bounds^ tilljJ^ye /-Falls from th' imperial sovereignty of heav'n. lo. ;Shal] he then fall ? Shall the time come, when Jove * < Shall sink dethroned? i think 1 shou'd rejoice /To see the tyrant's ruin : Shou'd I not. Since from his hands I suffer all these ills. PROM /Then be thou well assur'd it shall be so. lo. )jAnd who shall wrest th' imperial sceptre from him ? PROM. Himself, destroy'd by his improvident counsels. lO, /Oh say, if harmless what 1 ask, say how. PRO^i- Urging a marriage he shall dearly rue. lo. /Heav'n-sprung, or mortal ? If permitted, say. PROMlxWhat matters which ? It may not be disclosed. 30. /'Shall then a wife deprive him of the throne ? PROM.) She greater than the sire shall bear a son. 10, • Has he no means of pow'r t' avert this fate ? * This is one of those fine touches which distinguish a master's hand. !• had been cruelly treated, and was linking even to desperation under the sense of the miseries which she was yet to suffer, when she was told that her rugged wooer, from whom all her afflictions arose, should one daj be deprived ©f the sovereignty of heaven. Here, instead of that pleasure with which it was supposed the predicted event would fill her indignant mind, lier con- cealed love just rises to soften her resentment, and then, fearfill of a disco- very, hides itself beneath her conscious dignity, and the modest reserve of her sex : nay, the very questions which she afterwards asks, apparently to show her joy. for the ruin of Jupiter, discover the most delicate tincture of tender and delicate sensibility. Prometheus Chaind. 35 PROM, None, till from these vilfe chains I shall be free. 1 o . /And vyho^ 'SMlist Jove's high willj shall set thee free ? PRO m\\ One^of necessity, from thee^ descended^. lo. \ From me ! My son release thee from thy pains ? ■PRO Ml Third of thy lace, first numbVingten descents ♦. lo. Oracular this, of difficult conjecture. PROM. Check then thy wish, nor seek to know thy toils. 10. Do not hold forth a grace, then snatch it from me. PROM. Of two relations I will grant thee either. lo. Propose the two, then leave the choice to me. PROM. Shall I declare the rest of thy misfortunes, Or dost thou wish to know him that shall free met CHOR.The first to her, to me this other grace Vouchsafe, nor my request treat with disdain. To her impart what toils remain ; to me Him that shall free thee; this I most desire. PROM. This your request I shall not be averse To gratify, and tell you all you wish. First for thy various wand'rings : Mark my words, And grave them on the tablet of thy heart. ; When thou shalt pass the flood, the common bound Oj* either continent, direct thy steps Right to the fiery portals of the east^ The sun's bright walk, along the roaring beach. Till thou shalt come to the gorgonian plains Of Cisthine, where dwell the swan-like forms Of Phorcys' daughters, bent and white with age + ; f From lo descended Epaphus, Libj?e, Belus, Danaus, Hypermnestra, Aba^ Proelus, Acrisius, Danse, Perseus, Electrion, Alcraena, Hercules. t There is something so very ingenious in Mr. Bryant's analysis of these daughters of Phorcys, that the most rigid exactors of historical proof will 5»ot be offended to see it here laid before the reader. This history, he says, relates to an Araonian temple founded in the extreme parts of Africa, ia ■which there were three priestesses of Canaanitish race, who on that account are »aid to be in the sbape of swans, that bird being the insignp of thei^ o^w 36 Prometheus Chained. One common eye have these, one common tooth, And never does the sun with cheerful ray Visit ihem darJcling; nor the moon's pale orb That silvers o'er the night. The Gorgons nigh, Their sisters these, spread their broad wings, and wreath Their horrid hair with serpents, fiends abhorr'd. Whom never mortal eou'd behold, and live. Be therefore warn'd, and let it profit thee To learn what else detestable to sight Lies in thy way, and dang'rous. Shun the Gryphins, Those dumb and rav'nous dogs of Jove. Avoid The Arimaspian troops, whose frowning foreheads Glare with one blazing eye; along the banks, Where Pluto rolls his streams of gold, they rein * Their foaming steeds; approach ihem not, but seek A land far distant, where the tawny race "f- tion. The notion of their having but one eye among them took its rise from ^n hieroglyphic very common in Egypt, and probably in Canaan : this was the representation of an eye, which was said to be engraved upon the pedi- ment of their temples. This may have been one reason, among others, whj the Cyclopians and Arimaspians are represented with one eye. The Arimaspian troops, whose frowning foreheads Glare Avith one blazing eye. Bryant's Analysis, vol. i, p. 380. For his account of Medusa, see p. 510. &c. * Pluto is here the name of a river dito rov crrXoyTou, from the gold found there ; with which these northern parts are by historians said to abound, but to be inaccessible on account of the Gryphins, the fiercest and most formid- able of all birds, against which the Arimaspians are continually in arms, Stanley. t The ancients placed the Ethiopians at the extremities of the earth not only towards the south, but to the east, and also to the west j hence they are said to dwell near the fountains of the sun, so Virgil, Oceani fiaem juxta solemque cadentem Ultimus iEthiopura locus est. The river Ethiops, Niger, or Nigris, rolls his black stream through immense Prometheus Chained. S7 Dwell near the fountains of the sun, and where The Nigris pours his dusky waters ; wind Along his banks, till thou shalt reach ihe fall Where from the mountains with Papyrus crownd The venerable Nile impetuous pours His headlong torrent ; he shall guide thy steps To those irriguous plains, whose triple sides His arms surround ; there have the Fates decreed Thee and thy sons to form the lengthen'd line. — • Is ought imperfect, ought obscure ? Resume Th' inquiry, and be taught with greater clearness : 1 have more leisure than I wish to have. CHQR. If thou hast ought remaining, ought omitted, To tell her of her woful wandVings, speak it : If all has been declar'd, to us vouchsafe The grace w^e ask ; what, thou remembVest well; PROM. Her wand'ring in full measure has she heard. That she may know she has not heard in vain, Her labours pass'd, e'er these rude rocks she reach'd. Will I recite, good argument that truth Stamps my predictions sure : nor shall I use A length of words, but speak thy wandVings briefly. - . /Soon as thy foot reached the Molossian ground, \And round Dodona's ridgy heights, where standi ( The seat oracular of Thesprotian Jove, iAnd, wond'rous prodigy, the vocal groves, \ These in clear, plain, unquestionable terms / HaU'd jdbee " illustiious wife of Jove that shall be," if that may sooth thy soul. The tortVing sting Thence drove thee wand'ring o'er the wave-washed strand deserts scorched with intolerabFe heat, till it comes to its last cataract ; thence it falls into Egypt, and assumes the name of the Nile. Stanley.—" Four " miles below Cairo it divideth, making of the richest portion of the land a " triangular island, named Delta, in that it bearetbi the form of the Greek " A, ' Sandys, 38 Prometlieus Chained. To the great gulf of Rhea, thence thy course Thro' the vex'd billows hither. But know this. In after limes shall that deep gulph from thee , Be call'd th' Ionian, and preserve to men * The memory of thy passage. This to thee, Proving the prescience of my mind, that sees More than appears : The rest to you and her, Hesuming my discourse, I speak in common. On the laud's extreme verge a city stands, Canobus, proudly elevate, nigh where the Nile Rolls to the sea his rich stream : there shall Jovfr Heal thy distraction, and with gentle hand Sooth thee to peace. Of his high race a son, The dusky Epaphus, shall rise, and rule The wide extended land o'er which the Nile Pours his broad waves. In the fifth line from hiiR Fifty fair sisters shall return to Argos Unwillingly, to fly the kindred beds Of fifty brothers ; these with eager speed. Swift as the faulcon's flight when he pursues The dove at hand, shall follow, nor obtain The nuptials, which th' indignant gods deny. These shall Pelasgia see by female hands 'Welt'ring in gore, the night's convenient gloom FavVing the daring deed ; each female draws The trenchant sword, and in her husband's blood Stains the broad blade. Thus fatal to my foes Be love ! Yet one shall feel its softer flame Melting her soul, and from the general carnage Preserve her husband, choosing to be deem'd Of base degenerate spirit, rather than stain Her gentle hands with blood. From her shall Argos Receive a long imperial line of kings. The full distinct relation wou'd be tedious. Prometheus Chained. 59 ^ From her shall rise the hero, strong to wing • ^^^^ /The dreaded shaft ; he from these tort'ring pains Shall set me free : this my age-honour'd mother, Titanian Themis, with oracular voice Foretold ; but when, or how, requires a length Of narrative, which known wou'd nought avail thee. 1©. Ah me I Ah wretched me ! That pang again ! Again that fiery pang, whose madd'ning smart Corrodes and rankles in my breast ! With fear My heart pants thick ; wildly my eyeballs roll ; Distraction drives my hurried steps a length Of weary wand'rings ; my ungovern'd tongue Utters tumultuous ravings, that roll high The floods of passion swoln with horrid woes. PROMETHEUS, CHORUS. CHORUS. sTPtOPH. Was it not wisdom's sovereign powV That beam'd her brightest, purest flame, T* illume her sage's soul the thought to frame *, $ \^ And clothe with words his heav'n-taught lore ? " Whoe'er thou art, whom young desire " Shall lead to Hymen's holy fire. Choose, from thy equals choose thy humble love " Let not the pomp of wealth allure thine eye, Nor high-trac'd lineage thy ambition move ; " HI suits with low degree t' aspire so high." ) ANTiST. Never, O never may my fate See me a splendid victim led T© giace the mighty Jove's imperial bed, Or share a god's maguific state. • This sage was Pittacus of Mitylene, one of the jeven celebrated wi«« men of Greece. 4§ Prometheus Chain'd. When lo's miseries meet my eyes, What horrors in my soul arise ! / Her virgin bospm^haiVrijioJii^h_^m^ ^>? / 4MJE?.H-'^lll§tejioU a^^^ his^Iove disdains ; \ Hence the dire pest by wrathful Juno sent, ^ H er wide wild vvandVings hence, and agonizing pains, EPODE. Me less ambitious thoughts engage, And love within my humbler sphere : Hence my soul rests in peace secure from fear. Secure from danger's threatening rage. Me may the pow'rs that rule the sky Ne'er view with love's resistless eye : Ah, never be th' unequal conflict mine. To strive with their inextricable love : Might not my heart against itself combine ? Or how escape the pow'rful arts of Jove? PRO^^: Yet shall this Jove, with all his self-wilFd pride, / \ Learn humbler thoughts, taught by that fatal marriage, /Which from the lofty throne of sovereign rule Shall sink him to a low and abject state. And on his head fulfil his father's curse. The curse of Saturn, vented in that hour ' When from his ancient royalty he fell. ' Of all the gods not one, myself except, / Can warn him of his fate, and how to shun /Th' impending ruin. I know all, and how. ! Let him then sit, and glorying in his height Roll with his red right hand his vollied thunder Falsely secure, and wreath his bick'ring flames. \ Yet nought shall they avail him, nor prevent /His abject and dishonourable fall. Such rival adversary forms he now Prometheus Chain'd. 41 (''Against himself, prodigious in his might, • ^. )And unassailable ; whose rage shall roll V Elames that surpass his lightnings, fiercer bolts (That quash his thunders ; and from Neptune's hand /Dash his trined mace, that from the bottom stirs \The troubled sea, and shakes the solid earth. / Crush'd with this dreadful ruin shall he learn How different, to command, and to obey. €HOR. Thy ominous tongue gives utterance to thy wish. PROM;. It is my wish, and shall be ratified. CHOR. /What, shall high Jove bend to a greater lord ? prom4 And to a yoke more galling stoop his neck. CHOR. jDost thou not fear, vaunting this bold discourse? PRoivft; What shou'd 1 fear, by Fate exempt from death ? CHOR.^fBut he may add fresh tortures to thy pain. PRojv^! Let him then add them, 1 await them all, c HO R.Wise they, who reverence the stern pow'r of vengeance. prom/ Go then, with prompt servility fall down /Before your lord, fawn, cringe, and sue for grace. I For me, I value him at less than nothing. Let him exert his brief authority, /And lord it whilst he may ; his pow'r in Heav'a 1 Shall vanish soon, nor leave a trace behind. — But see, his messenger hastes on amain, Th' obsequious feckey of this new-made monarch ; He comes, 1 ween, the bearer of fresh tidings. MERCURY, PROMETHEUS, CHORUS. MERC. To thee grown old in craft, deep drench'd in gall, Disgustful to the gods, too prodigal Of interdicted gifts to mortal man. Thief of the fire of Heav'n, to thee my message. My father bids thee say what nuptials these Thy tongue thus vaunts as threatening his high powV; And clearly say, couch'd in no riddling phrase. 42 Prometheus Chained. Each several circumstance ; propound not to me Ambiguous terms, Prometheus ; for thou seest Jove brooks not such, unfit to win his favour. ?R0M. Thou doest thy message proudly, in high terms, Becoming well the servant of such lords. Your youthful pow'r is new; yet vainly deem ye (Your high-rais'd tow'rs impregnable to pain:> /Have I not seen two sovereigns * of the slcy '■ Sink from their glorious state f And I shall see A third, this present lord, with sudden ruin Dishonourably fall. What, seem I now To dread, to tremble at these new-rais'd gods ? That never shall their force extort from me. Hence then, the way thou earnest return with speed : Thy vain inquiries get no other answer. MERC. Such insolence before, so fiery fierce. Drew on thy head this dreadful punishment, PROM. My miseries, be assur'd, 1 would not change For thy gay servitude, but rather choose To live a vassal to this dreary rock, Than lackey the proud heels of Jove. These words^ If insolent, your insolence extorts. MERC. I think thou art delighted with thy woes. PROM. Delighted ! Might I see mine enemies Delighted thus ! And thee I hold among them. MERC. And why blame me for thy calamities ? PROM. To tell thee in a word, 1 hate them all, These gods ; of them I deserv'd well, and they Ungrateful and unjust work me these ills. MERC. Thy malady, 1 find, is no small madness. PROM. If to detest my enemies be madness, It is a malady 1 wish to have. MERC. Were it well with thee, who cou'd brook thy pride? * Ouranus dethroned bj bis son Satura^ and datura bj his son JTupitcr. Prometheus Chain'd. 43 PROM. Ah me ! MERC. That sound of grief Jove doih not know. PROM. Time, as its age advanceth, teaches all things. MERC. All its advances have not taught thee wisdom. PROM. 1 shou'd not else waste words on thee, a vassal. MERC Nought wilt thou answer then to what Jove asks. PROM. If due, I wou'd repay his courtesy, MERC. Why am I check'd, why rated as a boy ? FROM. A boy thou art, more simple than a boy, If thou hast hopes to be inform'd by me. Not all his tortures, all his arts shall move me T' unlock my lips, till this curs'd chain be loos*d. No, let him hurl his flaming lightnings, wing His whitening snows, and with his thunders shake The rocking earth, they move not me to say What force shall wrest the sceptre from his hand*. MERC. Weigh these things well, will these unloose thy chains? PROM. Well have they long been weigh 'd, and well considered. MERC. Subdue, vain fool, subdue ijiy ii)5olence, And let thy miseries teach tfe juster thoughts. FROM. Thy counsels, like the waves that dash against ;The rock's firm base, disquiet but not move me. ( Conceive not of me that, thro' fear what Jove (^May in his rage inflict, my flx*d disdain • It is not necessary tt send the ladie* to Pindar for their information in .A..._ this celestial anecdote, as our courtly Lansdowne in his Mask of Peleus and Thetis is ready to discover the secret. Jupiter beheld the charms of Thetis, daughter of Oceanus, with the eye of a lover, and intended to advance het as his consort to the imperial throne of Heaven. Now it was in the Fatts that this lady should have a son, who was to be greater than his father, Prometheus alone, by his divine foresight, could open the danger of Jupiter; but this he firmly refused to do, till he should be released from the rock. After that Hercules, by the permission of Jupiter, had killed the tormenting eagle, and unbound his chains, he disclosed the decree of th« Fates: Thetis was given in marriage to Peleus, »wtt the prophecy was accomplished in the f»8aou» Acbilleg. • - ' '^ « -r * 44 Prometheus Chained. / Shall e'er relent, e'er suffer my firm mind I To sink to womanish softness, to fall prostrate, ( To stretch my supplicating hands, entreating /My hated foe to free me from these chahis. ( Far be that shame, that abject weakness from me. MElic. I see thou art implacable, unsoften'd By all the mild entreaties 1 can urge ; But like a yonng steed rein'd, that proudly struggles, And champs his iron curb, thy haughty soul Abates not of its unavailing fierceness. But pride, disdaining to be rulM by reason, Sinks weak and valueless. But mark me well. If not obedient to my words, a storm, A iiery apd inevitable deluge Shall burst in threefold vengeance on thy head. First, his fierce thunder wing'd with lightning flames Shall rend this rugged rock, and cover thee With hideous ruin : long time shalt thou lie Astonied in its rifted sides, till dragg'd Again to light; then shall the bird of Jove, The rav'ning eagle, lur'd with scent of blood, JM angle thy body, and each day returning, An uninvited guest, plunge his fell beak. And feast and riot on thy black'ning liver. ^ Expect no pause, no respite, till some god /Comes to relieve thy pains, willing to pass \The dreary realms of ever-during night *, ' The dark descent of Tartarus profound. Weigh these things well ; this is no fiction drest • The scholiast explains this passage by saying, that whoever should attempt to succour Prometheus, and deliver him from his pain, sh£u]djihnself be sent lA -■ {^-^'^ ; \With vollied thunders and wild warring winds, I ' I I Rend from its roots the firm earth's solid base, I '^ jHeave from the roaring main its boisterous waves, 'And dash them to the stars ; me let him hurl, . ,^ Caught in the fiery tempest, to the gloom i I /Of deepest Tartarus ; not all his powV ^^^ *^Can quench tti' ethereal breath of life in n(ie. MERC. Such ravings, such wild counsels might you hear. From moon-struck madness. What is this but madness ? Were he at ease, wou'd he abate his frenzy ? But you, whose gentle hearts with social sorrow Melt at his suff 'rings, from this place remove. Remove with speed, lest the tempestuous roar Of his fierce thunder strike your Souls with horror. CHOR. To other themes, to other counsels turn Thy voice, where pleaded reason may prevail : This is ill urg'd, and may not be admitted. Wou'dst thou solicit me to deeds of baseness*? * The Chorus throughout this tragedy find themselves in a very delicat* 46 ' Prometheus Chained. "Whate'er betides, with him will 1 endure it. The vile betrayer i have Iqarn'd to hate ; There is no fouler stain, my soul abhors it. MERC. Remember you are warn'd; if ill o'ertake you Accuse not Fortune, lay not the blame on Jove, . As by his hand sunk in calamities Unthought of, unforeseen : no, let the blame ' Light on yourselves ; your foUy not unwarn'd, Not unawares, but 'gainst your better knowledge, Involv'd you in th' inextricable toils. 1»R0M. He fables not; I feel in very deed The firm earth rock ; the thunder's deepening roar Rolls with redoubled rage ; the bickVing flames flash thick ; the eddying sands are whirl'd on high ; In dreadful opposition the wild winds Rend the vex'd air ; the boist'rous billows rise Confounding sea and sky ; th' impetuous storm Rolls all its terrible fury on my head. Seest thou this, awful Themis ; and thou, Ether, Thro' whose pure azure floats the general stream Of liquid light, see you what wrongs I sufi'er ! and difficult situation. Consanguinity and affection brought thera to the rock to commiserate the afflictions of Prometheus; hence they becama in- terested in the .action: as his sufferings were unjust, their office, whieh led them to favour the good, led them also to express their disapprobation of his punishment j but as it was inflicted by Jupiter, their piety and reverence would not permit them to opposb the king of the gods ; all that remained for them was to condole with him, to give him friendly counsel, and to soften his inflamed resentment : their character is preserved with wonderful pro- priety and decorum. Even at the last, when nothing could prevail with him to abate his implacable spirit, and Mercury with much tenderness advised them to retire, and avoid the impending storm, they answer with a becom- ing firmness, that they could not be guilty of such a deed of baseness ; an- cient manners, which considered the desertion of a friend as the vilest of actions, required this sacrifice of their own safety. THE SUPPLICANTS. PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. CHORUS, the Daughters of Danaus, DANAUS. PELASGUS. HERALD. THB SUPPLICANTS 1 HE fire and fury, that rages through the former Play, is agreeably contrasted, where perhaps the reader least expected it, with the sober spirit of the daughters of Danaus. These illustrious Suppli- cants are drawn indeed with a firmness of soul be- coming their high rank, but tempered with a mod- est and amiable sensibility, and an interesting plain- tiveness, that might have been a model even to the gentle and passionate Ovid ; and that heart must have little of the fine feelings of humanity, that does not sympathize with their distress. The provident wisdom of their father Danaus, the calm but firm dignity of Pelasgus, the inviolable attachment to the laws of hospitality, the solemn sense of rehgion, and the chasteness of sentiment through the whole, must please every mind that is capable of being touched with the gracious simplicity of ancient manners. The scene is near the shore, in an open grove close to thealtar and images of the Gods presid- 50 inor over the sacred games, with a view of the sea And the ships of j^^nyptus on one side, and of the towers of Argos on the other ; with hills, and woods, and vales, a river flowing between them ; all toge- ther with the persons of the drama forming a pic-- ture, that would have well employed the united pencils of Poussin and Claude Lorain. iirk> i.« THi SUPPLICANTS. * CHOR. Protector of the suppliant, gracious Jove, Look with an eye of pity on this train, Which from the gentle depths of Nile have sped Their naval enterprise. Those sacred tields. That border on the Syrian wastes, we leave, Not by the public voice of justice doomMf * Danaus, the fourth in descent from lo, had fifty daughters ; his brother ^igyptus had fifty sons. It was much for the interest of JEgji^tus to unite the faraihes and the kingdoms, by marrying his sons to the daughters of hia brother J but the proposal, which was urged with such violence and rudeness, was so disagreeable to Danaus and his female train, that they sailed from the mouth of the Nile, and sought refuge on the coast of Greece, where we find them just arrived. t The laws of ancient Greece were severe, not sanguinary, till Draco ; they permitted even the murderer to atone for his crime by banishment, which often was voluntary, sometimes the punishment inflicted by the state; there are many instances in Homer ; in Statius Tydeus, stained with a bro- ther's blood, fled a voluntary exile te the court of Adrastus : hence tht Furies, declaring their office to Minerva, tell her 'Tis ours to drive the murderer from the house. Tyndarus, in the Electra of Euripides, urges this strongly against Orestes, Deaf to the call of justice he infring'd The firm authority of the public laws ; For when beneath my daughter's murdering axe 52 Tlie Supplicants. For blood, but willing fugitives from youths Too near allied, whose impious love wou'd raise Perforce the nuptial bed by us a orr'd ; Sons of /Egyyptus they. Our father Danaus, ' On whose authority we build our counsels, And strengthen our abhorrence, plann'd these measures, And wrought us to this honourable toil. To wing our swift flight o'er the billowy main, And reach the shores of Argos *, whence we draw Our vaunted lineage, from th' embrace of Jove Enamour'd of that virgin, whom transform'd The tort'ring sting drove wandVing o*er the world. To what more friendly regiou can we take Our progress, bearing in our suppliant hands These peaceful branches crown'd with sacred wreaths -f The royal Agamemnon bow'd his head, He ought to have call'd the laws, the righteous laws, T' avenge the blood, and by appeal to them Have driven his mother from this princely mansion : Thus 'midst his ills calm reason had borne rule. Justice had held its course, and he been righteous. * We have here indubitable marks of a colony moving from Egypt to settle in Greece ; and as these emigrants came forward under the auspices of their tutelary Isis, we might well expect to find the symbol of that goddess. The national vanity of the Grecians was hurt to see these strangers give birth .to an illustrious line of kings and heroes, whose glory eclipsed that of their own Autocthonep ; but their lively imagination soon found a remedy for thisj it created a daughter from their Inachus, dressed her out with every charm that might engage the love of Jupiter, transmuted the symbolical into a real heifer, and sent her into Egypt, there to bring forth the famous Epaphus, Now these emigrants might be received with a good grace, as being origi- nally of Argive extraction ; and Greece, in return for a colony, gratuitously presented Egypt with a goddess. It was usual for sjupplicants to stretch forth in tlieir hands branches of olive bound with wreaths of wool ; see the Furies, p. 393, t. uU. Euripides expresses tlii* by Ury.^i 2ou\Xx, . So Virgil, The Supplicants. . 53 Ye royal towVs, thou earth, and ye fair streams Of oriaiit chrystal, ye immortal gods In the high heav'ns enthrou'd, ye awful powVs That deep beneath hold your tremendous seats, Jove the preserver, guardian of the roof Where dwells the pious man, receive your suppliants, Breathe o*er these realms your favourable spirit, ' And form them to receive this female train ! But for those men, that proud injurious band Sprung from ^Egyptus e'er they fix their foot On this moist shore, drive them into the deep, With all their flying streamers and quick oars, There let them meet the whirlwind's boistVous rage, Thund'rings, and light'nings, and the furious blasts That harrow up the wild tempestuous waves. And perish in the storm, e'er they ascend Our kindred bed, and seize against our will What nature and the laws of blood deny *. To thee, th' avenging powV Ador'd beyond the waves of this wide main. Raise we the solemn strain. Her progeny, that cropp'd each various flow'r Which deck'd the fragrant mead. Till Jove's soft touch her altered shape caress'd, And sooth'd her soul to rest : Et vitt^ comptos voluit prsetendere ramos. iEn. viii. v. 128. The olive was an emblem of jfl^, and Servius tells us, that its branches were bound with wool, the lamb being the gentlest of animals, to show the weak and defenceless state of the presenter. * There does not appear to be any thing in nature, or in the customs of antiquity, to hinder marriages within this line of consanguinity. When Pelasgus asks these supplicants whether tlieir laws forbid such alliances, they answer evasively; this allegation must therefore be considered only as an •Tatorieal exaggeration. 54 The Supplicaiitis. Thereto we add thy fate-appointed name, Epaphiis of mighty fame, To thee we raise the strain, wliilst now we tread 1 hy reverenc'd mother's fertile soil, And record each various toil ; Now shall each trace to light be brought, Tho' far surpassing human thought ; Now shall the wond'rous tale unfold. Mysterious deeds of times of old. Dwells in this land some augur near ? If these sad wailings reach his ear, Will he not deem the mournful note Warbled from Philomela's throat, Such time as from the falcon's wing She leaves her fav'rite haunt and spring. And o'er her nest, and o'er her young Attunes her sweetest, saddest song. And in the melancholy strain Laments the fate of Itys slain ; In sullen rage the mother stands. And in her son's blood bathes her hands. In notes so sweet, so sad, I try To raise th' Ionian harmony; And rend these cheeks, that ripening drew On Nile's warm banks their vermeil hue; Whilst at each solemn, pensive pause My bursting heart the deep sigh draws, And, woe-betroth'd, fears e'en its friends, If yet perchance one friend attends, For that our sails the deep explore. Leaving our native dusky shore. Ye Gods, from whom we proudly tract The glories of our high-born race, Hear us, ye pow'rs, propitious hear, And show that justice is your care ; The Supplicants. 55 !@uard in our just, our holy caus« The sanctity of nature's laws ; YoH, that abhor each impious deed, Arise, protect the nuptial bed. When Mars to slaughter gives the reins*, And rages o'er th' ensanguin'd plains, To each that flies the altar gives A refuge, and the suppliant lives, For Jove, with pious pray'rs ador'd. Commands stern war to drop the sword. Jove's firm decree, tho' wrapt in night, Beams 'midst the gloom a constant light; Man's fate obscure in darkness lies, Not to be pierc'd by mortal eyes ; The just resolves of his high miud A glorious consummation find ; Tho' in majestic state enthron'd Thick clouds and dark enclose him round, As from the tow'r of heav'n his eye Surveys bold man's impiety ; Till, his ripe wrath on vengeance bent, He arms each god for punishment*}-, • There is a difficulty in the original, owing probably to a corrupted text, which no annctator has yet cleared ; the general idea is very obvious, sup- plicants fly for protection to the altars of the gods, which afford refuge even in the violence of war, Plutarch expresses the same sentiment, IV* oaXu Sapporo-iv. De Superstitione. It is well known how impious it was held by the Grecians to offer violence to those who had sate as supplicants at their altars. t This sense arises from the plain and literal construction of the text ; sen- tentia est optima, and every attempt to alter it has only tortured it into ob- scurity. This alludes to the solemn lamentations, the Sf»jva>^/ai, chanted by theif 56 * The Supplicants. And from his high and holy throne Sends all his awful judgments down. i\nd may his eye our wrongs survey, Markd by insulting man his prey ; As each bold youth by passion fir'd Against our bosom-peace conspir'd. And to deceit's smooth influence Joined rude and boist'rous violence : An infant forest these, that shoot Their wild growth from one parent root. And o'er our fresh bloom strive to spread Their cheerless and malignant shade. Thus I attune my notes of woe, And bid the varied measures flow ; Now the shrilling descant chase, Now solemn sink the deepning base ; Thus bid the warbled cadence 'plain, And steep in tears the mournful strain ; A stj'ain to grace my obsequies, Whilst yet I view yon' golden skies. Ye rising hills that, crown this shore. Where Apis reignM in years of yore, Propitious hear me, nor disdain To let your echos learn this strain ; Barbaric tho' my voice and rude. Well may its notes be understood ; Barbaric tho' this purfled stole *, friends at the funerals of the deceased. Milton, that exact obserrer of an- cient manners, make his Chorus break out into one of these mournful songs on the news of Sampson's death, till Manoa checks them, thinking it more prudent to bury his son with silent obsequies. * The schoUast, following the usual interpretation of the word, e?iplain» 4vy Aa>i^iy by rending their robes, and, amidst the silence of the other au- The Supplicants. 57 Frounc'd around with linen roll : This blushing veil tho' Sidon gave, Ye^hills of Apis hear, and save ! The vow performed, the Gods aton'd. The pious rites with blessings crown'd, Death distant waits with slackened pace. Nor dares profane the sacred place. But will he now his foot repress ? Will the kind Gods their votary bless ? Ah me ! these swelling waves of woe. Whither, ah whither will thej flow f Ye rising hills that crown this shore, Where Apis reign'd in years of yore. Propitious hear me, nor disdain To let your echoes learn this strain ; Barbaric tho' my vpice and rude, notators, he has the sanction of the learned Mr. Heath. This was a deed ex- pressive of the last despair ; we have an instance of this in the siege of Tbebes ; and in the Persians, when Xerxes rends his robes, we hear of it enough, it completes the distress of his mother, and even of his father's shade ; but in all these places the word used is either I^Eixw, or f'^iyvvixi' an author is the best commentator on himself; wherever Xaxij is used by ^lEschy- lus,it signifies what the Latin language expresses bj lacinia, and the English bj lace or fringe : Persae, 1. 837. where this idea of rending the ornaments of dress is intended to be conveyed, ^'ny-c^fixyovj-t is added to Kocxih?. The Chorus here are not in a desperate situation, they had escaped from their persecutors, were safely landed in Greece, and had hopes of protection from the gods, to whose altars they were fled, and from the generous inhabitants of the Apian land, to which they address themselves for favour, though their voice and dress be barbaric, that is, shows them to be of a foreign country, Peiasgus speaks of them as Gorgeously vested in barbaric stoles. That float in many a fold ; where the word ;^^ioyT« will not admit the idea of this supposed dilaceratioii. 1 58 The Supplicants. Well may its notes be understood ; Barbaric tho' this purfied stole, Frounc'd around wiih linen roll : This blushing veil tho' Sidon gave. Ye hills of Apis hear, and save I The dashing oar, the swelling sail, That caught the favourable gale, Safe from the storms, nor I complain. Wafted our frail bark o'er the main. All-seeing sovereign sire, defend. And guide us to a prosperous end ; Save us, O save the seed divine Of our great mother's sacred line ; From man's rude touch O save us free. And help insnared chastity ! Thou, virgin daughter of high Jove, A virgin's vows hear, and approve ; Holding thy sober, awful stale, Protect us from the touch we hate ; From bold incontinence secure. Pure thyself, preserve us pure ; Save us, O save the seed divine Of our great mother's sacred line ; From man's rude touch O save us free. And help insnared chastity ! If not, this glowing train, that trace From HeavVs high king their high-born race. Shall voluntary victims go To th' all-receiving realms below; To their dread Gods for refuge fly. If HeavVs high powVs their aid deny. The Supplicants, 59 O sovereign Jove, shall wrath divinf For 1(5 still pursue her line ? Still thy dread queen in fury rise, And in her cause arm all the skies ? She wings these winds, this tempest spreads, That bursts in vengeance o'er our heads. O sovereign Jove, for this thy ear No meed of grateful voice shall hear ; Thy son dishonour'd, whom of yore To thee disfigured lo bore. Turn then, O turn thy gracious eye, And hear us from thy throne on high ! DANAUS, CHORUS. DAN, Daughters, this hour dematids your utmost prudence; Your father's care, your old and faithful pilot, Hath held your helm safe o'er the dangerous deep ; Behoves you now at land with provident heed To form your counsels, and attentive mark My words. Yon' cloud of dust, tho' tongueless, speaks An army nigh ; I hear their wheels of brass Loud rattling on their axles ; now I view Chariots and horse distinct, and shields, and spears Far gleaming o'er the plain ; the lords perchance That rule these realms, inform'd of our arrival. Advance to us ; but bring they minds of peace. Guiltless of violence, or with ruthless rage Rush on this train, best sit together, virgins. Around this altar sacred to the Gods * * These gods were Jupiter as presiding over llie Olympic games, Neptune a« ovei' the Isthmian, Apollo as instilutor of the Pythian, Tnstituit sacros celebri certamine ludos, Pythia de domiti serpentis nomine dictos. Ov. Met, and Mersury, who taught the graceful exercises of the Pulsestra, 60 The Supplicants. Presiding o'er the games : a surer refuge Than tovv'r or shield war-proof an altar gives. Go then with speed, and reverent in your hands Hold forth these supplicating branches crown'd With snowy wreaths, ensigns of awful Jove. With modest, grave, and decent speech receive These strangers, as beseems the wretched state Of unknown supplicants ; declare at once Distinct and brief the motives of your flight Unstain'd with blood : let not your roving eye Dart the bold glance, impeaching modesty. Be not thy voice heard first, nor let its answers Weary their ear ; they quickly take offence ; Submissive urge thy plea, rememb'ring well The pride of words ill suits thy low estate, A fugitive, a stranger, in distress. CHOR, Wise are thy counsels, and with reverend heed Shall be remember'd, father ; and may Jove, The author of our race, look gracious on us. DAN. Quick be his aid, strong guardian of our cause. CHOR. Thus near I choose my seat. DAisr. Supreme of Gods, Pity our suff'rings, pity e'er we perish. CHOR. Look with an eye of mercy oh thy suppliants. Impart thy grace, and bless us with success. DAN. Address you now this crested bird of Jove *. Qui feros cultus hominum recentum Voc^ formasti catus, et decorse More palffistriP. • The image of Neptune is characterised by his Trident, -which plainlj declares the God ; but this adjunct of Apollo is not so clear j Pausanias tells us, that the Grecians worshipped the Cock as sacred to Apollo, because he announces the rising of the sun. But fuither than this, they drew their au- guries of success from this bird : thus the Boeotians formed a joyful presage •f their glorious victory over the Lacedaemonians at Leuctra, from the crorr- The Supplicants. 6l CH OR. Thee, radiant Sun, thy tutelary rays Streaming with gold, sacred Apollo, God Once exil'd from the skies, to thee I call *, Look on our woes, and pity wretched mortals. DAN. O succour us, assist us, gracious pow'r. ' CHOR. Whom of these Gods, whom yet shall we invoke? DAN. Mark you this trident? It declares the God. CHOR. Safe hast thou brought us o*er the swelling sea, Receive us then, and save us on the shore. DAN. This, in the Grecian rites, is Mercury f. CHOR. Nothing but good announce thou to the free. DAN. This common altar, sacred to these Gods, Approach with awe; the ground is holy; sit Like turtles trembling at the falcon's flight, ■ The winged foe of all the winged race. Polluter of iiis kind ; for how can bird. That preys on bird, be pure ? Or how can man, ITiat from th' unwilling father drags to marriage Th' unwilling daughter, how can he be chaste ? Or shall the haughty deed e'en after death Escape unpunished in the realms below ? No ; for another JoveJ, they say, holds there ing of the cocks during all the preceding night j for the cock, when he has conquered his rival, proclaims his victory with loud and cheerful crowings ; but if conquered, he hides himself in silence.— Verderii imagines deorum^ See also Cicero de Divinatione, 1 L. xxxv. * This is well put. Apollo was fabled to have been banished from hea- yen, because he killed the thunder-forging Cyclopes. t Danaus does well to' explain this image to his daughters ; for in the iEgyptian rites Mercury vras depicted with his caduceus and talaria indeed, but with the head of a dog, as the latrator Anubis. X Not only the heavens, but the sea, and even the infernal regioni had each their Jupiter; wherefore this god had an image amt.ng the Argives with three eyes, to denote his power over those three regions, which the an- 6.2 The Supplicants. His awful seat, and to the guilty dead Awards just veligeance. But be wary, try The sanctity of the place : and may it bring Th^ blessing of success to crown your hopet. PELASGUS, DANAUS, CHOPtUS. FEt. What female train address we here, and whence^ Gorgeously vested in barbaric stoles That float in many a fold ? Our Argos sees not Her daughters thus array 'd, nor Greece thro' all Its states. That thus without some previous herald. The public hospitality not ask'd. Without safe conduct, you have boldly ventur'd To land upon our coasts, this is most strange. Only these boughs, as supplicants are wont, You lay before these Gods that o'er the games Preside : hence Greece forms one conjecture only. Of all besides uncertain vvhat to think, Till your distinct relation clears our doubts. GHOR. As to our habits, thy remarks are just. But how shou'd 1 address thee, as a man Of private station, or with hallow'd charge Presiding here, or chieftain of the state ? PEL. Nay, answer me, and speak with confidence. Pelasgus bids you, sovereign of this land : My sire Palaecthon, of high ancestry* Original with this earth : from me, their king, The people take their name, and boast themselves Pelasgians. O'er a wide extent of land. Thro' which the Algus flows, and Strytnon west, From the Perrhaebians o'er the sacred heights Of Pindus, to Poeonia, and beyond «ient mythology has diy'ided between the three sons of Saturn,— Verderhi* from Pausania*, ^ The Supplicants. 63 The mouulains of Dodona, spacious realms, My empire stretches, bounded by the sea This way. In ancient times the Apian plains From Apis drew their honour 'd name, the son Of Phoebus, in his father's healing arts Skiird : from Naupactus came the heav'n-taught sag« And clear'd the land of that pestiferous brood*. Which the moist earth, foul with corrupted gore, Of old engendered, fierce with dragon-rage, A cruel neighbourhood; their horrible pride The matchless Apis quell'd, and freed the land Of Argos. Hence in sacred reverence We hold his memory. Instructed thus Say on^ declare your race, and ought besides : But know we brook not the long pomp of words, CHOR. Brief will I bt;, and plain. Of Argive race We boast ourselves, and draw our vaunted lineage From her, the lowing mother, in her son Supremely blest. All this my words shall prove. PEL. Unplausible your tale. Can it be, strangers. That you're of Argive race ? Liker, I ween. The Lybian damsels, in no wise resembling*}' * We have in this Wstory clear traces of another colony from ^gypt, whose chieftain Apis drove o,ut the barbarous remains of the Ophite race. t The ladies ef ancient Greece, like the fair females that grace our happy country, were remarkable for that soft and delicate composition of colour, which consists of a fine red beautifully intermixed and incorporated with white : when Pelasgus therefore observed the glowing tints of these dames, he pronounces them not of Argive race, but readily derives them from some warmer clime. Mr. Addison, in his Cato, has expressed the same idea in these charming lines. The glowing dames of Zama's royal court Have faces flush'd with more exalted charms: The gun, that rolls his chariot o'er their heads, Works up more fire and colour in their cheeks. 64 The Supplicants. Our daughters : such perchance the Nile might rear. Such in the glowing tint the artist's hand Might mark the Colchian dame; and such, I hear, The wand'ring Indians, mounted on their camels, j\Iong the tented plains out-stretching wide To ^Ethiopia's cities : such the troops Of warlike Amazons ; and were your hands Arm'd with the polish'd bow, I might conjecture You were of these ; therefore I thirst to know More fully, how you are of Argive race, CHOR. Fame speaks of lo, in this Argive land The sacred guardian of the fane of Juno. Her, as the common voice loudly reports PEL, Reports it that the Thunderer, of her charms Enamour'd, with a mortal mix'd the god ? CHOR. And met in secret shades, conceal'd from Juno. PEL. How ended then the bickerin<;s of these pow'rs ? CHOR. The Argive queen transform'd her to an heifer. PEL. Does Jove approach her in this fair-horn'd shape? CHOR. Himself, they say, transforming to a bull. PEL. What angry measures form'd his royal consort? CHOR. An herdsman she assigned starr'd round with eyes. PEL. What herdsman this, and how starr'd round with eyes ? CHOR. The earth-born Argus: but him Hermes slew. PEL. What new device to vex the wretched heifer? CHOR. A winged pest, arm'd with an horrid sting : Those on the banks of Nile call it the brize. PEL. And drove her in long wand'rings from this land. CKOK. Thy words, according well, speak this for me. PEL. Reach'd she Canobus, and the walls of Memphis? CHOR. There Jove with gentle hand sooth'd her to rest; There planted his illustrious progeny. PEL. Who from this heifer boasts his race divine ? CHOR. Hence Epaphus receiv'd his name; from him The Supplicants. 65 Libya, whose fair domains extended wide. ^EL. What other branch sprung from this mighty root? CHOR. Belus, the father of two sons ; my sire, Behold, is one. PEL. Declare the sage's name. CHOR. Danaus : his brother, whom by name they call iEgyptus, is the sire of fifty sons. Thus have I shewn thee our high ancestry ; Protect us then, support an Argive train. PEL. You seem indeed to draw your origin Of old from hence : but say, how have you dar*d Toleaveyour father's house? What chance constrain d you ? CHOR. King of Pelasgia, various are the ills * . .Of mortal man ; and never may'st thou see ,t Misfortune mounting on the self-same wing. Who wou'd have thought we shou'd have wing'd our flight Thus unexpected to the coast of Argos Allied of old, amazement in our van. And strong abhorrence of the nuptial bed ! PEL. Why, say'st thou, fly you to these Gods for refuge, Holding these fresh-cropt branches crown'd with wreaths? €HOR. That to the offspring of ^gyptus we Might not be slaves. PEL. Whence this reluctance, say, From hate ? Or do your laws forbid such nuptials ? * The address of these yirgins here deserves out attention: their father, knowing the quick and volatile temper of the Grecians, had warned them not to let their answers weary the ear ; Pelasgus had given them the same admonition ; hence the Chorus says, " hrief will I be, and plain :" and thus far indeed all her replies have a modest brevity and precision ; here a try- ing question liad been put to her, which coiild not be evaded ; "but as her success depended on the receptio|i her answer should meet with, she awakes the attention of the king by a fine moral sentiment, and having thus pre- pared his mind gives him a direct answer, by applying the force of it t© her «!wn case. There is exquisite art in this. K 66 The Supplicants. CHOR. And who wou'd wish to make their friends their lords ? PEL. Yet thus the strength of famihes gains force. CHOR. And to ths wretched death is not unwelcome. PEL. In what wou'd you engage my honour to you ? CHOR. Not to inthral us to ^gyptus' sons, Shou'd they demand us. PEL. Arduous is the task Thou woud'st enjoin me, to provoke new Wars. CHOR. O'er him, that succours. Justice holds her shield. PEL. If from the first the cause were my concern. CHOR. Revere these Gods, the guardians of your state, Encircled with this supplicating train. PEL. Struck with religious horror 1 behold These branches shade this consecrated seat. CHOR. Dread then the wrath of Jove, who guards the suppliant. Son of Palaecihon, hear me ; with an heart Prompt to relieve, king of Pelasgia, hear. Behold me supplicant, an exile, wandering. Like the poor lamb, that on the craggy steep Raises her mournful voice, secure of help, And warns her faithful keeper of her danger. PEL. 1 see a stranger train, with boughs new pluck'd Shading these Gods that o'er the games preside. May their arrival, tho' now strangers here, Yet hence descended, bring no dread event ; Nor from this sudden, unexpected hap Let war, which least we wish, disturb our state. CHOR. May Themis, guardian of the suppliant, sprung From pow'rful Jove, look on our harmless flight. Nor from a younger let thy age disdain To learn the reverence due to supplicants, From whose pure hands the fav'ruig Gods accep The grateful oflFering. PEL. Make not your request The Supplicants. 67 To 113 e in private : if pollution stains The public state, the public has the charge To expiate that stain ; nor can my voice, E'er consultation with the people held, Warrant the sanction of the public faith. CHOR. Thou art the state ; the public thou; thy voice, Superior to control, confirms the sanction This altar gives ; thy sole authority, High-sceptr'd monarch of a sovereign throne, Is here obey'd : religion's voice pleads for us ; Revere it, nor profane these hallow'd seats. PEL. That profanatioq to mine enemies. To grant you my protection cannot be But with much danger ; to reject your pray'rs, Humanity forbids : perplex'd I fear To act, or not to act, and fix my choice. CHOR. On Heav'n's high throne he sits, whose watchful eye Regards th' afflicted, when unfeeling pride Denies that justice which the law asks for them. Reverence his povv'r ; for when the sufferer groang With pangs unpitied, the fix'd wrath of Jove, Protector of the suppliant, burns severe *. PEL. if by your country's laws iEgyptus* sons, . As nest of blood, assert a right in you. Who shou'd oppose them ? It behoves thee then By your own laws to prove such claim unjust. CHOR. Ah never may I be perforce a thrall To man ! By heav'n-directed flight I break • There is great propriety in this plea, to which Pehisgus was naturally led by Grecian ideas, arising from the laws of that country where orphan virgins were to marry their nearest of kin, and such were ordered to take them to wife : Lex est, ut orbae, qui sint genere proxinii, Eis nubant : et illos ducere eadera haec lex jubet. Ter. Phohm. 6s The Supplicants. Tlie wajward plan of these detested nuptials. Arm justice on thy side, and with her aid Judge with that sanctity the Gods demand. ?EL* No easy province : make not me your judge. Great tho* my power, it is not mine to act *, I told thee so, without my people's voice Assenting ; lest, if ill arise, they say By honouring strangers thou hast undone thy country, CHOB. Each equally allied, impartial Jove Weighs each in equal balance ; but repays The impious deed with vengeance, to the just Rewards their sanctity. Why griev'st thou then To emulate the God, and act with justice? PEL. Matter of high import hast thou propos'd. Which not admits heady and fitful rashness, But deep deliberation, provident care. Wisely attentive to the general weal. That hence no evil rise, but the event Be prospVous found, first, to the state and me ; Next, that no force arrest you here, nor we Betray you refug'd in these hallow'd seats. The kostages of Heav'n and on our heads Call ruin and the vengeance of the Gods, * The Athenians, and indeed all the states of Greece, were animated with the noblest and most generous spirit of liberty, and the strongest abhorrence of a tjrant ; for by that name they denoted the man who had usurped th» supreme power, and. tnrned the free democracy into a monarchy. Non quia crudelis ille, sed quoniam grave Orana-insuetis onus. Nay, proud as they were of their own ancient kings, they could not bear to allow them a power inconsistent Avith their free laws, the right which every citizen claimed of giving his voice in the public council, and adding his sanction to the measures which the king was to carry into execution, - only in 'obedience to the will of the people. We have many instances of this generouB enthusiasm. The Supplicants. 69 "That e'en in death acquits not. Seems not this Matter of deep debate, and public care ? c;hor. Deliberate then with prudent care : To thy counsels take with thee Heav'n-comraercing piety, And be stedfast justice near. Hark! methinks 1 hear them say, Do not, mighty king, betray Wretched exiles wand'nng far. See me not with ruffian hand, Refug'd at this shrine, profan'd. Learn what boist'rous man niay dare. / See me not with ruffled vest * Rent unseemly from my breast, Loose my tresses waving round, Bridled with this golden bredc. Led, like a reluctant steed, From the Gods that guard this ground. See each hallow'd image here, And the awful pow'rs revere : At thy feet thy suppliant laid, Mighty monarch hear and aid I And know, to thee, thy house, thy rising race Impartial justice shall repay the deed; With glory's radiant crown thy virtues grace, And righteous Jove shall sanctify the meed. PEL. Well ; 1 have paused, and ponder'd ; but each thought Tells me the fluctuating tide perforce Will drive me on a war with these, or those; And, like a ship with all its anchors out, * This passage confirms ihe observations on the word XaxJj in the formeif ode. Mr. Heath here translates 'sjoXv^jlitciiv trrsTrXwy by peplorum multis liciis textorum : and indeed these ladies seem to have been very elegantly dressed, and to be conscious enoujjh of it. 70 The Supplicants. I must abide the storm : nor will thi;? end Without calamity, and loss, and woe. When the rich house in desolation sinks, Its wealth all wasted, bounteous Jove may raise Its splendor to outsliine its former state : Or when the haughty tongue unseemly bolts The bitter taunt that stings the anguish'd heart, The bahn of honied words may heal the wound. But kindred blood to reek upon the dust — No : let the altars blaze, and each due rite Propitiate ev'ry God t' avert the ill Meanwhile I keep aloof, wishing t' appear Ignorant of these disputes : and may th' event Be fortunate beyond my expectation. CMOR. Hear the last words of desperate modesty. PEL. Have I not heard ? Speak on, I will attend. CHOR. Seest thou these braided zones that bind our robes ? PEL. Ornaments these that suit your female state. CHOR. Know then the honest purpose these shall serve. PEL. What wou'd thy words intend ? Explain thyself. CHOR. If honour shall not guard this female train — PEL. How c^n these binding zones secure your safety ? CHOR. Hanging new trophies on these images. PEL. Mysterious are thy words ; speak plainly to me. CHOR. To tell thee plainly then, I mean ourselves. PEL. I hear the language of an anguish'd heart. «H0R. Be sure of that ; I speak our firm resolves. PEL. On ev'ry side inevitable ills Surround me, like a flood whose dangVous surge Drives me into a vast and gulfy sea, Where no kind harbour shelters from the storm. Shou'd I not yield you refuge, thou hast nam'd A deed of horror not to be surpassed : If with iEgyptus' sonS; whose veins are rich The Supplicants* 71 With kindred blood, before our walls I try The chance of war, what else, but bitter loss Can be th' event, when in a woman's cause Men shed their warm blood on th' embattled plain ? Yet strong constrair)t compels me to revere The wrath of Jove, whose hospitable pow'r i^rotects the suppliant, awfully severe. A\u] thou, age-honour'd father of these virgins, Take in thy hands these boughs, place them with speed On other altars of our country Gods ; That all the citizens may see the signs Of your arrival ; but of me be sure Speak not a word : for this free people love To tax authority with blame. Some eye Perchance may melt with pity, and abhor The boistVous force of these injurious men ; Hence shall you find more favour from the people ; For nature prompts to succour the distressed. lN. This reverend, this benevolent regard To strangers v/e receive with grateful honour. But from thy train send with me some t' attend, To guide me to the altars of your Gods, The guardians of your state, and to their shrines, With safety thro' your streets ; for much unlike Our form, our garb to yours ,* nor does our Nile See on its banks a race like those, that tread • The verdant borders of your Inachus : Hence insolence may dare the rude affront; The stranger friend by the friend's hand has bled. |f EL. Attend him ; he says \Aell ; conduct liis steps Safe to the sacred shrines, seats of the Gods, Within our walls ; and, as you pass, avoid Much talk with those you meet, guiding this stranger, Wlio claims protection from our hallo w'd altars. 72 The Supplicants. PELASGUS, CHORUS. «HOR. For him thou hast order'd well ; safe may he go i\ppointed thus: but what becomes of me? What shall I do ? How wilt thou calm my fears ? PEL. Leave here those boughs, the ensigns of your toils. CHoR. 1 leave them, as thy voice and hand directs. PEL. Seest thou that unfenc'd grove ? Take shelter there *. CHOR, How shou'd th' unconsecrated grove protect me ? PEL. Let them have wings, we leave you not their prey. CHOR. Than winged dragons they're more dreadful to us. PEL. With better omens be thy words auspicious f. CHOR. No marvel if my mind sinks with its fears. PEL. But a king's fear is omenous of ill. CHOR. Be all thy words, be all thy actions happy I PEL. Your father will not long be absent from you Meanwhile will I persuade th* assembled people, If haply I may move them, to receive you ; Wiih gen'rous pity : him will I instruct How best t' address his speech. Await th' event, And supplicate the Gods, whose guardian powV Is worshipp'd here, to grant your hearts' warm wish. This done, I will return ; and may persuasion • The sacred groves were enclosed J the Chorus therefore properly aske what protection an unconsecrated grove could afford : the answer shows, that the slate would defend them, and they needed not that hallowed asy- lum ; yet as the danger came upon them before they could be removed bj a decree of the stale, they fled fpr refuge to the sacred grove. t It is well known that the ancients were very superstitious with regard to well or ill omened words. Tully gives us some curious recitals in his book on divination. Nothing can be more inauspicious than a winged dragon j the mention of it was therefore of ill omen : the Chorus excuse themselves as being depressed with /ear; this was another ill-omened word, especially when addressed to a king : they recover themselves with this auspicious y?ish, ^5e all th^r words, be all thy actions happy ! which shows that vj^^ociu camiol be taken actively for auimum mihi exhilera. The Supplicants. 7S Attend me, and good fortune speed my steps. CHORUS. .^ STRO. 1. Might of the mighty, king of kings, Supremely blest amidst the blest above> InthronM in glory, righteous Jove, From whom perfection to the perfect springs, Hear us, O hear our fond request, F To pity melt each gen'rous breast ; View this bold outrage with indignant eye, And shield us from the injury : Overtake iheir proud bark on the purple main. Sink it with all its sable train; Our female band with pity view, [drew. And think from whose rich blood our honoured race we ^ANTis. 1. If Argive lo's blooming grace f Cou'd e'er thy fond enamour'd bosom move To warm desire, and rapturous love. The pleasing memory of her charms retrace. From her our race divine we boast. Not foreign to this Argive coast. Her foot, in times of old, where now we tread, Trod the flow'r-enamell'd mead ; And made with lowings loud the forests ring, As from the brize*s tort' ring sting O'er many a realm she wander'd wide, [divide*. And dar'd the bounding waves, that world from, world STRO. 2. Found her foot rest on Asia's shore, On pastoral Phrygians, or on Lydia*s plains, ^^ Or Mysian Teuthra's wide domains ? m ' Wildly Cilicia's rugged mountains o'er, P Pamphilia's various tribes among. Each ceaseless-flowing stream along, * Alluding to the passage of the Bosphorui, which divides Europe from Asia. L I 74 The Supplicants. Thro' corn^clad fields, and vallies ever ^reen, The haliow'd haunts of beauty's queen, That winged pest impell'd her foot to rove, To the drvine, all fost'ring grove, Thro' whose rich meads, impregn'd with snow*, Teniper'd with torrid beams Nile's healthful waters flow, AUTIS.3. The race-that then possessed the land, Struck with astonishment and pale affright, Beheld ihe strange, prodigious sight : Disdaining to be touch'd she trod the strand, The likeness of the lowing race Now soft*ning sweet to virgin grace f : They saw, and trembled. All her toils at last, Her wand'rings wild, her tortures past, What gentle hand — ^ Eternal Lord 'twas thine ; Thy gentle hand, thy pow'r divine J, Sooth'd, softly sooth'd her frantic fear, And from her glowing cheek wip'd sorrow's modest tear, * The most ancient opinion was, that the Nile proceeded from the snow dissolving in the mountains of the Upper A'^thiopia ; this is mentioned by Anaxagorai, iEschylus, and Euripides. " Than the waters whereof there is «' none more sweet ; being not unpleasantly cold, and of all others the most " Avhoiesome. Confirmed by that answer of Pescennius Niger to his raur- *• muring soldiers, What ? crave you wine, when you have the Nilus to drink *' of? Such is it in being so concocted by the sun, at all times in some part " directly over it ; and by length of course, running from south to north " (besides iu ambages) above one and forty degrees, &c." Sanoyi. t The poet here, by taking lo under her change from the heifer to hep own natural form, has given us the precise image of the ^Egyptian Isis, who was represented as a most elegant woman with lunar horns on her head.xmi See Verder, Mr. Bryant, and particularly Histoire du Cjel. $ Jupiter restored lo to her former shape, and with his gentle hand soothed her to peace : hence their illubtrious son had the name of EpaphMs, The Supplicants. 75' .EPOD. Now thy pleasing force jemploy, AW be love, and all be joy. Rising from the sweet embrace, Worthy of his radiant race, Smiles the auspicious boy. Time prepares to stamp his name Glorious in the roll of fame; Earth, thro' ev'ry raptur'd scene, Hails th' ethereal son of Jove. Who cou'd charm Heav'n's angry queen ? Who her hostile hate remove ? This the deed of Jove alone. And this his genuine son. To whom, for justice when I raise the strain, To whom, save Jove, shou'd 1 complain? Great, awful author of our ancient line, Creative parent, independent lord, ^^ Disposer of the world, righteous, benign, Sovereign, above the highest high ador'd; Whene'er he deigns to grace some favour'd head. Easy alike to him the will, the word, the deed. DANAUS, CHORUS. DAN. Be of good courage, daughters; a decree. Such as you wish, this gen'rous state has pass'd. «HOR. Dear to my soul, widi grateful tidings fraught. Hail, reverend parent ! But inform us how Pass'd the decree ; what numbers favour'd us ? BAN. Not one discordant voice jarr'd in their councils. The fire of youth glowM in these aged veins. When the whole people their uplifted hands Wav*d in the air, to witness their assent That we might be permitted here to dwell Free, unreclaimable, inviolate : 76 The Supplicants. That none presume, native or stranger, hence To lead us ; and shou'd force be us'd, whoe'er Assists not, him the public sentence drives, With infamy, an exile from his country. This the Pelasgian king advis*d, to us Benevolent, declaring the fierce wrath Of Jove, protector of the supplicant, Cou'd not permit this firm and prosperous state To flourish ; but such double insult, offer'd To ev'ry law^ of hospitality Sacred and civil, wou'd with twofold vengeance Draw ruin on it. When the Argives heard These arguments of winning eloquence, Impatient of the usual forms, they gave With hands uplifted their concordant suffrage Friendly to us : thus Jove decreed th' event. CHOR. Come then, my sisters, for these pious ArgiTes Breathe we some pious prayV, whose solemn strain May reach the ear of Jove. And thou. Supreme, God of the stranger, hear a stranger's voice Sincere, unblam'd ; and ratify our vows ! STKo, Ye progeny of Jove, whose awful powV In yon ethereal plain Fixes the glories of your reign, Bend from your radiant seats your ear. Attentive to a virgin's prayV, And on this gen'r ous race your choicest blessings show'f , Never may war, whose wanton rage The thund'ring falchion joys to wield, Joys, when embattled hosts engage, To mow^ with ruthless arm the field 5 Never with rude discordant roar Aflfright the echoes of this shore ; Never with hostile hand Hf .,!;iOt The Supplicants. 7T Wave round these glitt'ring tow'rs the blazing brand. Soft-ey'd humanity dwells here, That melting to the suppliant*s tear Asserts our hopeless cause ; And spotless piety, whose breast Submiss reveres Jove's high behest, And hospitable laws. Your sacred spirit inspires the free To form the gen'rous, bold decree, A man's rude force disdain ; To cast on Heav'n's dread Lord their eye, The terrors of his vengeance fly, .a-aii Nor scorn our female train : He o'er the impious roof his thunders rolls *, And awful in his wrath appals the guilty souls. ANTis. Our kindred train, suppliants of holy Jote, Pelasgia's sons revere, And make our wrongs their gen'rous care. For this at evVy hallow'd shrine Propitious be each powV divine ; For this beneath this solemn-shaded grove Our raptur'd invocations rise, And Heav'n shall hear the pious strains. Ah ! never may malignant skies Blast the fresh glories of your plains : Nor pestilence with pois'nous breath, Waste your thin towns with livid death : Nor war's stern pow'r deface The blooming flow'rs that youth's fair season grace. Still may your chiefs, a reverend band. Around the hallow'd altars stand; And ardent for the state • We are indebted to the acumen of Pauw for bringing this sublime idea; t* light. 78 The Supplicants. Pour the warm vow to Heav'n*s high Lord, The great, the just ; whose will ador'd With hoar law tempers fate *. Still rise new chiefs, a lengthen 'd Hne, (Kind on their birth, Diana, shine !) The brave, the wise, the good : But never discord's dread alarms Your maddening cities rouse to arms, And stain your streets with blood ; Nor pale disease her sickly dews display, Touch'd by thy golden beams, ambrosial fount of day. IPOD. Favoring seasons grace the year. Crown with rich fruits your cultur'd plains ; The joyful flock, the sportive steer, Bound wanton o'er your wide domains. Each immortal show'ring treasures, Wake the soft melodious measures ; Let the chastely-warbled lay The muses' rapture-breathing shell obey. Firm may the honours of your laws remain, And prudence in your counsels reign : Just to yourselves, and to the stranger kind, May peace to sleep consign the bloodless sword ; Each honour to your country's Gods assigned ; Each laurell'd shrine with hallow'd rites ador'd ; The parent's hoary head with reverence crown'd ; View this, ye righteous Gods, and stretch protection round! DANAUS, CHORUS. DAN. I like this well j wise are these votive strains. ♦ Hoar law, an elegant expression to which the cana fides 6f the Latins corresponds. Jupiter is now addressed as the just and righteous king, aai ikerefore governing by the an«ient laws of heaven. The Supplicants. 79 But tho' your father brings unwelcome tidings, New, and unlook'd for, fear not you th' event. From yon high mound, where first you suppliant stood, I saw a ship, I mark'd its waving streamer, Its swelling sails, and all its gallant trim : r Its prow with heedful eye observes its way. Obedient to the helm that guides behind ; Unfriendly sight! the sailors too 1 mark'd. Conspicuous in white robes iheir sable limbs*, Th' attendant vessels, proudly riding, sweep The wat'ry way ; she foj emost near the land Now furls her sails, and all the shouting crev . Bend to the eager oar. Behoves you now f Sedate and sage attention, nor neglect , These Gods. I haste to bring their generous aid, ij The patrons, the protectors of your cause. i' Haply some herald may be sent, with charge To claim you as their prize : it shall not be : Fear not th' event : but shou'd our aid come slow. Forget not the protection of this place. Be comforted ; the day, the hour shall come. When he, that dares affront the Gods, shall feel Their chast'ning vengeance bursting on his head. CHOR. How my frame trembles I Ah, my father, see With winged speed the ships arrive ; between No interval of time : my stiff'ning limbs Are chain'd with fear, and ev'ry hope of safety, If safety lies in flying far, is lost. DAN. Since this decree is passed, fear not, my child; Argos, I know, will arm in your defence. CHOR. Fatally fierce they are, and on their pride * It had been observed before, that the Egyptian rowers were a sable t-rain. 80 The Supplicants. Destruction waits, and never^sated war, These sons of old ^igyptus, not to thee Unknown : E'en now their firm-compacted ships Black o'er the angry deep insulting ride, Eager to land their sable-thictur'd hosts. DAN. And they shall find an host, whose toil-strung arms * Relax not in the sun's meridian heat. CHOR. Forsake me not, ah, leave me not alone, 1 pray thee, father ; a forsaken woman / Is very weak : their wily, faithless minds, Like obscene crows, spare not the hallow'd altar. »AN. Now fair befal our cause, if their mad rage, Insulting thee, my child, insults the Gods. CHOE, Neither these tridents, nor this solemn scene Will awe them to refrain their impious hands. They scorn the Gods, and with unhallow'd force Rush madly on, like sarage, rav'ning dogs. DAN. But dogs, they say, yield to the mast'ring wolves f; And the soft reed to the firm spiked corn. CHOR. They have the force of wild and savage beasts ; We must escape them therefore, as we may. DAN. Slow are th* advances of a naval train ; Slow the arrangements of the ships ; the care To fix the cables, slow ; th' experienc'd chiefs Trust not too soon the biting anchor's hold, • The gymnastic exercises of the Grecians, to which they were all trained, formed their bodies to this firmness j it is intended liere as a sarcasm on the ^Egyptians, who are supposed t« melt beneath the noon-tide heat. t As the Chorus had compared the sons of ^gyptu* to ravening dogs, Danaus expresses the Grecians by wolres, as stronger and fiercer animals ; perhaps it would be too great a refinement, with Stanley, to derive the former allusion from their Anubis, and the latter from the Apollo Ayxsioj, The comparison is continued in the next line, wltere the papyrus, whose root was a common ood in iEgypt, is despised as inferior to the corn of Greece, The Supplicants. 81 If stationed where no harbour winds around : -And when the golden sun withdraws his beams, The gloom of night brings many an anxious care ; Nor dare they, till their vessels ride secure. Attempt to land. But take thou heed, nor let -Thy fears impel thee to neglect the Gods ; But ask their aid. The state will not disdain My age, that tells with youthful warmth its tidings. CHTORUS. STRO. 1, Ye rising hills, whose reverend heads Majestic wave their awe-commanding shades, What woes our shudd'ring souls await? Or flying on the wings of fear. In some cavern dark and drear Deep shall we plunge, and hide us from our fate f Oh that 1 cou'd as smoke arise, That rolls its black wreaths thro' the air; Mix with the clouds, that o'er the skies Show their light forms, and disappear : Or like the dust be tost By evVy sportive wind, till all be lost ! ANTis. 1. Such thoughts in deep despair I roll. The gloom of sorrow black'ning on my soul. Ah father, the vex'd ocean round What horrors struck thy aching sight ? Dismay, and pale affright. And wild amazement sink me to the ground. Shall then the base, detested band With rude touch seize us for their own ? No : rather shall this daring hand Prepare for death the conscious zone ; Rather in deep disdain My pale shade sink to Pluto's dreary reign. M 821 ' The Supplicants. STRO. 2. Oh might I sit sublime in air, Where wat'ry clouds the freezing snows prepare ! Or on a rock whose threatening brow, Th' aerial vulture's unreach'd seat, In solitary state Frowns ruinous o'er th' affrighted waste below : Roll'd headlong down its rugged side, A mangled carcass let me lie, E'er dragg'd a pale, unwilling bride, Victim to sad necessity ; And my indignant heart Feel the keen wounds of sorrow's tort'ring dart, A NT IS. 2. Throw me, e'er that detested day, To prowling dogs and rav'nous birds a prey. No form of death affrights me now^ : O thou, assign'd the wretches' friend. To bid his miseries end. And in oblivion's balm to steep his woe; Come, gentle death, e'er that sad hour Which drags me to the nuptial bed ; And let me find in thy soft pow'r A refuge from the force I dread; O spread thy sable cloud, And in its unpierc'd gloom our sorrows shroud I EPOD. Higher let your voices rise, And swell the choral descant to the skies. Notes of such a lofty vein. That Gods may listen to the solemn strain ! Eternal Sire, from Heav'n's high throne, If thy indignant eye-balls glows With vengeance at foul deeds below, ' Look down, thou Sovereign of the World, look down iEgyptus' sons, a ruffian race. Our flying footsteps chase ; The Supplicants. ' 83 And on our trembling, weeping band Advance to lay their vengeful hand : Extend thy golden scales, For without thee what mortal worth avails ? By land, by sea, They seek their prey ; Oh, e'er they seize it, may the ruffians die I Again 1 raise the mournful cry. They come, they come, the haughty foes : These are but preludes to my woes. To yon strong rampires bend your flight ; By sea, by land they rush severe, And with their stern and threatening air. The softness of our sex affright. Look down, thou Sovereign of the World, and save ! HERALD, CHORUS. HER. Hence to the ship, hence with your utmost speed *. CHOR. No, never, never ; drag me, drag me, stab me, Rend from these mangled limbs my bleeding head. HER. Hence to the ship, abandon'd wretches, hence. That waits to waft you, with your injur'd lords, O'er the wide billows of yon briny deep. Haste, or this spear, with bridal garlands bound f , * The timid modesty of these virgins, and the sober piety of Danaus, nre ■finely contrasted with the brutal insolence and sacrilegious violence of the Egyptian lierald : this carries the distress to its greatest height, raises our pity and terror, and adds a peculiar lustre to the calm dignity of Pelasgu* in the next scene. t Pauwii conjecture vu/la^oS'etw Jo^i, hasta quae sponso gerituT, et cui an- »exa est sponsi causa, conjecturas, omnes quascunque liactenus vidi mir^ suS5 luavitate longe longeque superat. But the translator is not to be bantered out of this reading by tl)e Attic wit, nor to be beat out of it by the yvi^ipohTu J^p«, the o-jtrjTrTfw r,XoKTi ^schy- lus particularly valued himself upon this trage- dy : not without reason ; for it has all that bold painting, with which we might expect his martial genius would embellish such a subject. Always magnificent, he has fixed the scene in Thebes be- fore the principal temple : the clash of arms, the neighing of the horses, and the shouts of the sol- diers are heard : Eteocles appears surrounded with the citizens, whom he animates to defend the walls ; in the mean time the Chorus, which is composed of 96 Theban Ladies, distracted with their fears are hang-* ingon the statues of the Gods that adorn the area before the temple. Longinus has remarked on the subhmlty of the dialogue ; it is worthy an expe- rienced veteran and a brave young king arming in defence of his crown, his Hfe, and his honour ; it is worthy of iEschylus. The characters of the Seven Chiefs, that command in the attack, are exquisitely marked and varied ; and their impetuous ferocity is admirably contrasted with the calm and deliberate courage of those appointed to oppose them. The shields of six of these chiefs are charged with armo- rial* bearings expressive of their characters, and as regular as if they had been marshalled by an herald at arms : the impresses are devised with a fine ima- gination and wonderful propriety. The judicious choice of the persons of the Cho- rus forms one of the principal graces of this tragedy, as it gave the poet an opportunity of mixing the * The origin of these insignia is not known, but ire hare here a proof of their high antiquity ; they were borne as marks of noble descent, or illustrious action, and as such were of distinguishing honour : but should they, in the ambitious mean- ness of future times (this age is too pure to admit of such a prostitution), be assumed by such as are neither distinguished by high birth nor virtuous action, by such as owe their wealth to the wantonness of fortune, or to deeds that deserve a dif* ferent kind of elevation, they must necessarily suffer great abatements of honour, and the proud achievements of virtu* sink Into Qommon charges^ ST natural timidity of the female character with the animated and fiery daring of heroes, the fears of these daughters of Cadmus presenting nothing to their imamnation but the scenes of distress and horror, which the insolence of conquest spreads through a vanquished and plundered city, and this painted in the warmest colours, in the strongest style of iEschylus. • Besides the intrinsic beauty of this tragedy, which is very striking, it has to us this further merit, that it gave birth to three of the finest poems of an- tiquity the Antigone of Sophocles, the Phoenissas ©f Euripides, and the Thebaid of Statins. PERSONS OF THE DRAMA, ETEOCLES SOLDIER ANTIGONE ISMENE HERALD CHORUS of Theban Virgins. THE SEVEN CHIEFS AOAINST THEBES. ETEOCLES, CHORUS. ETEO. jL E citizei^s of Cadmus*, it behoves The man, that guides the helm of state f, to speak • There are so many allusions in this tragedy to the history of Cadmus, that it may not be improper to lay it before the reader in one view. When Jupiter, in the form of a bull, had carried off Europa, the daughter of Age- nor king of Phcenicia, the disconsolate father sent his son Cadmus in search of her, commanding him not to return unless he found her. Cadmus having wandered over the world in vain, consulted the Oracle of Apollo at Delphos ; the answer of the God was. Behold amidst the fields a lonely cow, Unworn with yokes, unbroken to the plough ; Mark well the place where first she lays her down^ There measure out thy walls, and build thy town. AddISON. He obeyed. Some of his attendants were sent to a river nigh the place, to bring living water for a sacrifice which he was preparing to Jupiter ; an im- mense dragon rushed from his cave and killed them : Cadmus, to revenge the death of his friends, fought with this dragon and slew him ; then, by the ad- monition of Minerva, he sowed the teeth of the dragon in the ground, from which an host of men completely armed suddenly arose ; these furiously at- tacked each other, till only five of the number remained alive : peace wa» made between them, and Cadmus associated them to his train. The Theban* 100 The Seven Chiefs What the sad tunes require ; nor suffer sleep To weigh his eyelids down. For if success Attends our toils, to the good Gods we bow *, The authors of the blessing : Shou'd misfortune. Avert it Heav'n ! befal, Eteocles Shall hear his name alone wide thro^ the city Insulted by each tongue, that vents its spleen In mutinous reproach, or loud laments : From which may Jove, the guardian of our stato, Defend the sons of Cadmus ! But this hour Call on you all, whether your flow'ry spring Yet wants the prime of manhood, or your age Puts forth its firmest strength, t' exert your powVs, Well it becomes you, to defend the city, The altars of the Gods presiding here, (Ah, never may their honours be effac'd !) Your children, and this land, your common parent. And dearest nurse, who on her fost'ring soil afterwards were proud of deriving some of their best families from thii dragon race. Cadmus now built Thebes, and having established his colony, married Harmonia, the daughter of Mars and Venus; all the Gods attended at the nuptials, and each honoured the bride with some present. t The man that guides the helm of state, h 7r^J/xv») TToXsug ot'axa yufxZv, This beautiful metaphor I believe will be found one of those select few, which are universal in all the polished languages of civilized nations ; our author uses it again V. 62 and v. 658. of this play j and his contemporary, Pindar, in his first Pythian Ode, v. 359. and indeed almost every author in prose or poetry since that period : Horace even addresses the republic itself under jthe character of a ship ; and Cicero, in his oration pro domo sua, says, In il- lis tenebris reipublicae cascisque nubibus et proccllis, quura senatura a guber- naculis dejecisses, populum e navi exturbasses, ipse archipirata cum greg« praedonum impurissimo plenissimis velis navigares. — R, P. Jodrell. • The piety of the ancients in ascribing their success to the Gods was con* ipicuous and uniform : hence the ;^«f ifWfict of the Greeks, and the grate* of the Latins were presents to their gods to testify their gratitude for the di* ▼iae assistance. — Stanlet. against Tliebes. 101 Upheld with bounteous care your infant steps, And train'd you to this service,, that your hands In her defence might lift the faithful shields E'en to this day indeed the Gods incline To favour us ; and tho' so long immur'd Within our rampires, each bold work of war Hath prospered in our hands. But now the seer> That listens to the flight of birds *, and thence Forms in his prescient mind the sure presage, Guiltless of fire, from their oracular wings Draws his deep skill, and warns us that the powers Of Greece, combin'd against us, in the night Advancing, meditate the dark assault. Haste all then to the walls, haste to the bulwarks Widi all your arms, fill ev'ry tow'r, secure Each pass, stand firm at ev'ry gate, be bold. Nor fear th' assailing numbers : Heav'n is with us, JMeanwhile on ev'ry quarter have I sent T* observe their forces, and descry their march : By these, not charg'd, I trust, in vain to watch, Informed 1 guard against the wiles of war. SOLDIER, ETEOCLES, CHORUS. SOLD. Illustrious king of Thebes, I bring thee tidings Of firm assurance from the foe ; these eyes Beheld each circumstance. Seven valiant chiefs Slew on the black-orb'd shield the victim bull f, * Apollodorus tells us that Minerva had given Tiresias, as a compensatioa for his loss of sight, which she could not restore, the faculty of understanding the voices of all birds: hence his prophecies were taken from auguries only; «o that the inspection of the entrails placed on the altar, the mounting of the smoke and the flame, and all the omens to which fire was necessary, wore •ut of his department. Longiuus has selected this passage as aa instance of the bold and heroic genius of iEschylus. The sublimity here arises from the assemblage of th« 102 The Seven Chiefs And dipping in the gore their furious hands, In solemn oath attest the God of war, Bellona, and the carnage-loving pow'r Of terror* sworn from their firm base to rend These walls, and lay their ramparts in the dust ; images ; the bull slain on the black-orbed s-hield, shows it to be a sacrifice t» Pluto, and a solemn devotion of themselves ; the dipping of their hands in the blood, the invocation of Mars, Bellona, and Terror, their shedding tear* but without any sign of remorse, and their souls of iron glowing with valour, ■with the simile of the lion glaring determined battle, are greatly conceived, and together breathe a solemn and terrible magnifieence. Mr. Jodrell observes, that the beauty of this passage has not secured it from the satirical lash of Aristophanes, whose Lysistrata, tendering the oath to her female confederates, proposes to imitate iEschylus by slaying a sheep over a shield, v. 189. * Terror had before been personified by Homer as the son of Mars, "Ecttteto, or' l^Po^rKTB Toi,Xoioi irs^ croXE/u,tr>5V. 11. xiii. V. 298. Terror, his best lov'd son, attends his course, Arm'd with stern boldness, and enormous force ; The pride of haughty warriors to confound, And lay the strength of tyrants on the ground.— Pope. Virgil has imitated this passage, as far as the imperfection of the Latin lan- guage would permit, > circumque atrse formidinis ora, Iraeque, insidia^que, dei comitatus aguntur. JEn. xii. ▼« 336* Wrath, terror, treason, tumult, and despair. Dire faces and deform 'd, surround the car. Friends of the god, and followet4 of the war.— Dbtdew. I mean that the beauty of the prosopopoeia, or personification, is here consi-» derably diminished by For niido, Iraj, and Insidiae, being of the feminine gen- der, instead of masculine, as 4>()C*of, or as terror may be made in English.— II. P. JODRKLL. . against Thebes. 103 Or, dying, with their warm blood steep this earth. Each in Adrastus' car some dear remembrance * Piled to their distant parents, whilst their eyes Dropp'd tears, but on their face was no remorse. Each soul of iron glowing with the rage Of valour, as the lion when he glares Determined battle. What I now relate Sleeps not, nor lingers : round the urn J left them, By lot deciding to what gate each chief Shall lead his forces. These against select The best, the bravest of the sons of Thebes, And instant at the gates assign their stations. For all in arms the Argive host comes on Jnvolv'd in dust, and from the snorting steeds The thick foam falls, and dews the whiten'd fields. Be thine the provident pilot's generous care. Guard well the town, e'er yet the storm assails it; E'en now the waves of war roar o'er the plain f : Seize then this fair occasion, instant seize it. My faithful eye this day shall hold the watch, That well inform'd, no danger may surprise thee. ETEO. O Jove, O Earth, O all ye guardian Gods; And thou dread curse, the fury of my father, Of fatal pow'r, O rend not from its roots This ruin'd city by th' insulting foe • It was the custom of the ancients before a battle, in which they appre- hended danger, to send home to their friends some pledges as remembrances, things of little value in themselves, but rendered dear by the circumstance : these are placed in the chariot of Adrastus, because Amphiaraus had de- clared, that he alone of the confederate chiefs should reiurn to Argos, t ^schylus is distinguished for bold and glowing metaphors : Nothing can be more picturesque, animated, or more philosophically exact than the pre^ •ent expression, which calls an army approaching, a land-wave advancing with a roaring noise: the same metaphor occurs afterwards, v, 116. ofthi» play.— .R. P. JODRELL. 104 The Seven Chiefs Trampled in dust, her sweet Helladian tongue Silent, and all her sacred fires extinct ! Ah, never let this land, tfiis town of Cadmus Bend her free neck beneath the servile yoke ! Protect her, save her ; as you share her honourt I plead : a flourishing state reveres the Gods. tuoB* Woe, woe, intolerable woe! Fierce from their camps the hosts advance. Before their march with thund'ring tread Proud o'er the plain their fiery coursers prance, And hither bend their footsteps dread : Yon cloud of dust that choaks the air, A true tho' tongueless messenger, Marks plain the progress of the foe. And now the horrid clash of arms, That, like the torrent, whose impetuous tide Roars down the mountain's craggy side, Shook the wide fields with fierce alarms. With nearer terrors strikes our souls, And thro' our chaste recesses rolls : Hear, all ye pow'rs of Heav'u, propitious hear. And check the furies of this threat'ning war ! The crouded walls around Loud clamours rend the sky ; Whilst rang'd in deep array th' embattled pow'rs Their silver shields * lift high, And, level with the ground To lay their rampir'd heads, assail our tow'rs. • Stanley rightly observes, that the common soldiers bore white or plala ihields, but the generals had devices on theirs. Therefore Euripides (Phoenisfc V. 116.) calls the Argive army Xsyxacrffiv : and Virgil, speaking of Helenor, fiho was born of a slave, and consequently ignoble, says, parm& ingloriui »lbk. ^a. U. ^ against Thebes. 105 What guardian God shall I implore ? ■ Bending at what sacred shrine Call from their happy seats what pow'rs divine, And suppliant ev'ry sculptur'd form adore ? The time demands it : why then, why delay ? — The sound of arms swells on my affrighted ear. — • Hold now the pall, the garland*, as you pray.— Hark! 'tis the rude clash of no single spear. Stern God of war, Dost thou prepare Thy sacred city to betray ? Look down, look down f ; O save thine own ; Nor leave us to the foe a prey : If e'er thy soul had pleasure in the brave, God of the golden helm, hear us, and save ! Slight were his arms, a sword and silver shield. No marks of honour charg'd its empty field.'— Dryden. R. P. JoDRJiLt,. * In great distresses it was customary for the noblest dames to go in pro- cession to the temples, carrying in their hands rich robes and crowns, with which ihcy adorned the images of tlie tutelary gods, whose protection the j implored : thus Virgil describes the Trojan dames, Interea ad teniplum non aquae Pailadis ibant Crinibas Iliades passis, pepluraque ferebant Suppliciter tristes.-— — ^n. i. v. 483. Mean time the Trojan dames, oppress'd with woe. To Pallas fane in long procession go ;— - They weep, they beat their breasts, they rend their hair. And rich embroiderM vests for presents bear. — DRYDEy* / This is taken from the sixth Iliad, where the augur Helenus assigns this of- fice to his mother Hecuba. t Exia, eVidf. — The frequent repetitions of the same word in this Chorus are extremely natural, and the language of fear in women trembling at the approach of the enemy. — R. P. Jodrbli.. P 106 The Seven Chiefs And all ye pow'rs, whose guardian care * Protects these walls, this favoured land, O hear these pious, suppliant strains ; Propitious aid us, aid a virgin band, And save us from the victor's chains ! For all around with crested pride High waves the helm's terrific tide, Tost by the furious breath of war. And thou, great Jove, almighty sire. Confound with foul defeat these Argive pow'rs, Whose arms insult our leaguer'd towVs, And fright our souls with hostile fire. The reins that curb their proud steeds 'round. Rattle, and death is in the sound : 'Gainst our sev'n gates seven chiefs of high command,; In arms spear-proof, take their appointed stand. Daughter of Jove, whose soul Glows at th' embattled plain : And thou, by whom the pawing steed arose +, * The Gods here addressed, ^sol teoKiosr^x'^^ ^ovo<;^ were those before ■whose images the Chorus now stood. Mars and Venus are. invoked with pe- cuUar propriety, as the parents of Harmonia, and so the great progenitors of the Cadmeian line. t Neptune acquired the title of 't'^cvtog from being the creator of tte horse, according to the fabulous mythology, and is thus invoked by Virgil in the opening of his Georgicks, Tuque O cui prima frementem Fudit equum raagno tellus percussa tridente Neptune. And thou, whose trident, struck the teeming earth, And made a passage for the courser's birth.— Dhydek, The story was, that he and Mmerva both claimed the honour of giving their name to Athens : Jupiter decreed, that whoever produced the most useful present to mankind should ha>e the prelereiice. Neptune struck the earth against Thebes. 107 Great monarch of the main Curb'd by thy strong control ; From our fears free us, free us from our foes ! On thee, stern Mars, again I call ; Haste thee, God, and with thee bring The Queen of Love, from whose high race we spring ; Jf Cadmus e'er was dear, defend his wall ! Thou terror of the savage Phoebus, hear, In all thy terrors rush upon the foe ! Chaste Virgin-huntress, Goddess ever dear, Wing the keen arrow from thy ready bow ! Hark! fraught with war The groaning car, Imperial Juno ! shakes the ground ; Fierce as they pass, The wheels of brass, Dear Virgin-huntress ! roar around : The gleaming lustre of the brandish'd spear Glares terribly across the troubled air *. Alas my country ! must these eyes, Must these sad eyes behold thy fall ? Ah, what a storm of stones, that flies. And wing'd with ruin smites the wall ! O Phoebus ! at each crouded gate Begins the dreadful work of fate ; Each arm the thund'ring falchion wields. And clashes on the sounding shields. O thou, whose kind and matchless might, Blest Onca, thro' the glowing fight with his trident, and gave existence to this animal ; Minerva with her spear raised the olive tree, and conquered.- R. P. Joduell. * The fire of expression in ^schylus is often incapable of a literal trans* Idtiou. Here the whole atmosphere convulsed with the agitation df spears is said to be inflamed to madness, R. P. Jodkelu 108 The Seven Chiefs Obedient conquest joys t' attend, All our sev n gates, dread queen, defend ! And all ye mighty, guardian pow*rs. That here preside, protect our towVs : Nor the war-wasted town betray, To fierce and dissonant foes a prey ! Ye Gods, deliverers of this land. To whom we stretch the suppliant hand, Hear us, O hear our virgin pray'r, And show that Thebes is yet your carej By ev'ry solemn temple, evVy shrine, Each hallow'd orgie, and each rite divine. Each honour to your pow'r in revVence paid, Hear us, ye guardian Gods, hear us, and aid \ ETEOCLES, CHORUS. ETEO. It is not to be borne, ye wayward race^ : ^ Is this your best, is this the aid you lend P The state, the fortitude with which you steel i The souls of the besieg'd, thus falling down Before these images to wail, and shriek With lamentations loud ? Wisdom abhors you. JNor in misfortune, nor in dear success. Be woman my associate : if her pow'r Bears sway, her insolence exceeds all bounds ; * Eteocles, with reason, 'offended at the intimidating cries of these females, treats them with great harshness ; his reflections are so uncourtly, that they might well say afterwards, " thou scornest our sex:" but certainly they were out of their provmce r even the fond and gentle Hector says to the amiablft Andromache, No more : — but hasten to thy tasks at home, There guide the spindle, and direct the loom j Me glory summons to the martial scene, The field of combat is the sphere for men. Pope. 11. tL against Thebes. 109 But if she fears, woe to that house and city. And now, by holding counsel with weak fear, You magnify the foe, and turn our men ., To flight : thus are we ruin'd by ourselves. This ever will arise from suffering women To intermix with men. But mark me well. Whoe'er henceforth dares disobey my orders, Be it or man or woman, old or young. Vengeance shall burst upon him, the decree Stands irreversible, and he shall die. War ig no female province, but the scene For men : hence, home ; nor spread your mischiefs here. Hear you, or not ? Or speak I to the deaf ? CHOR. Dear to thy country, son of GEdipus, My soul was seiz'd with terror, when 1 heard The rapid car roll on, its whirling wheels Grating harsh thunder ; and the iron curb / Incessant clashing on the barbed steed. 41 ETEO. What! shou'd the pilot, when the labVing bark * ^ _^ Scarce rides the swelling surge, forsake the helm, And seek his safety from the sculptured prow ? CM OR. Yet therefore to these ancient images, i^ Confiding in their sacred pow'r, I ran, When at the gales sharp sleet of arrowy show'r Drove hard ; my fears impell'd me to implore The blest Gods to protect the city's strength f* * Stanley has with much learning and judgment proved, agaiust Heinsius, Scaliger, Crrotius, and Bochart, that the images of the tutelary gods were an- ciently affixed to the prows of ships. The allusion is finely conceived, and expressed with great strength and proper conciseness. t The scholiast tells us, that the Trojans, when their city was stormed, saw the gods carrying away their images; this he takes from a tragedy of So- phocles on that subject, which is lost. There is a similar instance in the Troades of Euripides ; hence Virgil, 110 The Seven Chiefs ETEO. Pray that our tow'rs repel the hostile spear. CHOR. This shall the Gods ETEO. The Gods, they say prepare To quit their seats, and leave a vanquish'd town. CHOR. Ah, never, whilst 1 breathe the vital air. May their blest train forsake us ; nor these eyes Behold destruction raging thro' our streets, And in fierce i^ames our stately structures blaze ! ETEO. Let not these invocations of the Gods Make you improvident ; remember rather Obedience is the mother of success, , Excessere omnes adytis arisque relictis Dii, quibus imperiuin hoc steterat. — jEn. ii. You see our hopeless state ; how every god. Who guarded Troy, has left his old abode.— Pitt. The Romans were so sirongly impressed with this idea, that when they be- sieged a town they anxiously inquired the name of the tutelary god, whom they evoked with much solemnity. The reason assigned for this desertion •was, that amidst such scenes of devastation and carnage the reverence and honours due to the gods must be neglected ; this shows the propriety ef JCteocIes' address before. Protect her, save her, as you share her honours I plead : a flourishing state reveres the Gods. The learned Mr, Jodrell observes here, that Jerusalem, when sacked, was said to have been forsaken of its Gods ; and that the Shekinah, or divine presence, was undoubtedly withdrawn from the ark of the first temple, be- fore it was destroyed by the king of Babylon. He adds, that Tarquin, be»- fore he dedicated the temple to Jupiter Capitolinus, performed the ceremony of unhallowing the ground from all other religious institutions, ut area esset tota Jovis. Liv. 1. i. c. 55. He further says, that this idea and veneration of local divinity was by some people carried to such an excess of extravagant folly, that they used to bind their favourite gods in their temples to prevent such desertion ; which custom some Christian writers, whose God is not ta be confined with mortal fetters, object with great indignation against the Gentiles. He refers us to i\rnob. cont. Gent. 1. vi.— to Cyprian, ad Demetr. p. 191. Ed, Fell.— -Petr. c. 89. p. 435. Ed^ Burm. and to Diodor. Sic* 1.- xvii.— .Q. Curtius, 1. iv, c. 3. against Thebes* 111 AVedded to safety : so the wise assure us. CHOR. Yet in the Gods is a superior pos^'r. Which often in afflictions clears away Th' impenetrable cloud, whose sullen gloom Sharp misery hung before our darkened eyes. ETEO. The victim, and the hallo w'd sacrifice, When the foes menace, are the task of men ; Thine, to be silent, and remain at home *. CHOR. That we possess our city yet unconquer'd, That yet our tow'rs repel th' assailing foe. Is from the Gods : from them our voice calls down Further success: Why shou'd this move thy auger? ETEO. It does not, virgin: No: your pious vows I blame not. But be silent ; lest thy fears, Swelling to this excess, dismay our youth. CHOR. Affrighted at the sudden din of war, And trembling with my fears, with hasty foot I sought this citadel, this sacred seat. ETEO. If haply now your eyes behold the dead. Or wounded ; burst not forth in loud laments : For blood and carnage is the food of war. CHOR. Distinct I hear the fiery-neighing steed. ETEO. Whatever thou hear'st, it asks not thy attention. €HOR. The city shakes beneath th' enclosing foes. ETEO. Be satisfied ; to guard it is my charge. * Thus Sophocles, Ty'vai, yvvcu^l Koa-fjiov -n criyri ^£§£i, Ajax, v. 293, This line is quoted to introduce an anecdote, which deserves to be men- tioned. When a learned German paid a visit to the accomplished and mo- dest M. Dacier, he requested her to inscribe her name and a sentence ia his travelling book, or album, according to the arrogant custom of his country, among the names of the most eminent scliolars in Europe : she at first re- fused, but was at last prevailed upon, and wrote this celebrated verse of So- phocles, which Dr. Franklin well translates thus. Woman, thy sex's noblest ornament Is silence. — R, P. Jodreli.. 112 The Seven Chiefs CHOR, I fear : the clash is louder at the gates. ETEo. Peace ; nor distract the city with thy cries. CHOR. Ye social powVs, leave not our walls defenceless. ETEO. Woe on thee ! Canst thou not bear this in silence? CHOR, Gods of this state, save me from slavery ! ETEO. Me wou'dst thou make a slave, and all the state. CHOR. All-powVful Jove, turn on the foe the sword! ETEO. Heav ns, of what quality are women form'd ? CHOR. Wretched, as men are, in their country's ruin. ETEO. Still wail thy country? Still embrace these Gods ? CHOR. Wild with my fears, I speak I know not what. ETEO. Wou'dst thou indulge me in a light request? CHOR. Speak it at once, quickly shall I obey. ETEO. Be silent, wretch; nor terrify thy friends. CHOR. 1 will ; and with them bear what Fate decrees. ETEO. 1 praise thy resolution. Clasp no more These images ; but stand apart, and ask Happier events ; entreat the friendly Gods To aid us. Hear my vows; then instant raise . The heav'n-appeasing Paean, whose high strains Of solemn import, 'midst her sacred rites, Greece pours symphonious ; strains, that raise the soul To gen'rous courage, and the fix'd disdain Of fear and danger. To the guardian Gods Whose tutelary pow'r protects our fields. Protects our crouded streets ; to Dirce's fount ; Nor thee, Ismenus, will I pass unhonour'd ; If conquest crowns our helms, and save* our city, The hallow'd sacrifice shall bleed, and load Their smoaking altars , this victorious hand Shall raise the ^litt'ring trophies *, and hang high, • It was a custom derived from early antiquity to erect trophies to the Gods, ot the arms of the conquered, in the place v^here the victory was ob- tained ; hence their Zei/j rpoVaio? and TgoTrattf^oS' The vests stript from against Thebes. 113 To grace their sacred walls, the rich-wrought vests. Spoils of the war, rent from the bleeding foe. Breathe to the Gods these vows : but let no sigh Break forth, no lamentation rude and vain : Weak is their povv'r to save thee from thy fate. My charge shall be at our sev'n gates to fix Six of our bravest youth, myself the seventh. In dreadful opposition to the foe ; E'er yet the violent and tumultuous cry Calls me perforce to join the fiery conflict* CHORUS. i. 1. 1 wou'd obey thee ; but my breast Yet pants with fear, and knows not rest J Too near my heart distracting care Wakes all the horrors of despair : And as the trembling dove, whose fears Keep watch in her uneasy bow'r. Thinks in each rustling leaf she hears The serpent gliding to devour, t tremble at each sullen sound Of clashing arms, thai roars around : With all their troops, with all their powVs^ Fierce they advance to storm our tow'rs ; Now hurtling in the darkened sky, What does my cruel fate prepare! Rude, batt'ring stones incessant fly, And all the missive storm of war. 1.2. Guard, ye great Gods, O guard our wall, Nor let the tow'rs of Cadmus fall ! the slain were hung up in the temples. This distinction cauld not escape the sagacity of Pauw. * 114 The Seven Chiefs Ah, to what fairer, richer plain Your radiant presence will you deign. These fields abandoned to the foes, ) Thro* whose crisp'd shades and smiling meuds^ Jocundly warbling as she goes, Dirce her liquid treasures leads. And boasts that Tethys never gave, Nor all her nymphs, a purer wave ! Deign then, ye Gods that guard this land. Here deign to take your hallow'd stand : Assert your glory : on the foe Pour rout, and havoc, and dismay. Confusion wild, soul-with'ring wpe. And flight that flings his arms away. I. 3. Hear then the mournful, solemn strain : For dreadful were its fate, shou'd this strong wall, This ancient, rampir'd city, fall. And spread its light dust o'er th' encumber'd plain, Beneath the proud Achaian spear, Dishonour'd sunk, the' waste of war. Shou'd the fresh virgin's bloom, the matron's age. By the fierce victor's fiery rage. Their robes all rent, their bleeding bosoms bare. Be dragg'd by their loose-flowing hair, Like horses, a reluctant prize ; The desolated streets re-echoing to their cries. II. 1. Before my sad presaging soul What scenes of imag'd horror roll ! 1 see the tender virgin's woe. E'er yet her ripen'd beauties glow ; against Thebes. 115 The hateful way 1 see her tread. Forcibly torn from her sweet home : Happier, far happier are the dead ; They rest within the silent tomb. But, the walls humbled to the ground. What dreadful miseries rage around ! Furious one leads the vengeful bands ; One stains with blood his reeking hands ; Wide roll, outrageous to destroy. The dusky smoke, and torrent fires ; Whilst slaughtering Mars with hideous joy The heav'n-contemning rage inspires. II. 2. From house to house, from street to street ♦, The crashing flames roar round, and meet ; Each way the fiery deluge preys. And girds us with the circling blaze. 1 he brave, that 'midst these dire alarms f For their lost country greatly dare. And fir'd with vengeance rush to arms, Fall victims to the blood-stain'd spear f. The bleeding babe, wiih innocent cries. Drops from his mother's breast, and dies. * The translator makes no apology for adopting the interpretation of Pauw. Perili sciunt. t This is a most beautiful and picturesque image : among the horrors of a captive city, which are here so finely painted, it was extremely natural for women to describe infants at the breast shrieking with affright j hence Virgil seems to have borrowed a very pathetic idea, Et trepidae matres pressere ad pectora natos. JEix. vii. v. 518. Pale at the piercing call, the mothers prest With shrieks their starting infants to the breast. — Pitt. See also Apollonius Khodius, 1. iv« v. iSC* — R. P. Jodreli. 116 The Seven Chiefs See rapine rushes, bent on prey, His hasty step brooks no delay. The spoiler, loaded with his store, Envious the loaded spoiler views ; Disdains another should have more. And his insatiate toil renews. IL 3. Thick on the earth the rich spoil lies * ; For the rude plunderers' restless-rolling tide, Their worthless numbers waving wide, Drop in their wild haste many a glittVing pri?tj. Whilst, in her chaste apartment bred, The trembling virgin captive led. Pours, in the anguish of her soul, the tear : Aud, torn from all her heart holds dear, The youthful bride, a novice yet in woe, Obeys the haughty, happy foe. But e*er such horrors blast ray sight, May these sad eyes close in eternal night 'f' ! SEMTCH. See, from his watch the veteran returns, Bearing, 1 ween, fresh tidings from yon host. Of highest import : quick his foot, and hasty. SEMICH. This way, behold, the son of CEdipus, The king himself advances, pressing on His hurried step to learn their new-form'd measures, ETEOCLES, SOLDIER, CHORUS, SOLD. Now 1 can tell thee, for I know it well, • This passage in the original has an obscurity qn which the annotators have not vouchsafed to cast one gleam of light : Mr. Heath's interpretatioa of Jcci^TTOf is beneath the dignity of the occasion. The translator can hardlj flatter himself that he has hit on the precise idea of his author, but he hw not wilfully deviated from the original. t We are indebted to Pauw for this elucidation. against Thebes. 117 The disposition of the foe, and how Each at our gates takes his allotted post. Already near the Prictian gate in arms Stands Tydeiis raging ; for the prophet s voice Forbids his foot to pass Ismenus' stream. The victims not propitious : at the pass Furious, and eager for the fight, the chief, Fierce as the dragon v^^hen the mid- day sun* * The whole description of Tydeus is in the boldest style and strongest co- Jouring of ^Eschylus. The serpent lying in a torpid state during the winter, is supposed to have his rage increased by heat j hence this glowing descrip- tion of him by Virgil, Postquam exhausta pains, terrasque ardore dehiscunt, Exilit in siccum, et flammantia lumina torquers Saevit agris, asperque siti, atque exterritus aestu. Georg. iii. v* 452, But when in muddy pools the water sinks. And the chopt earth is furrow'd o'er with chinks ; He leaves the fens, and leaps upon the ground, And hissing rowls his glaring eyes around : With thirst inflamed, impatient of the heats. He rages in the fields, and wide destruction threats. Drydkn. Ovid has with peculiar judgment seized this idea, and carried it to the north pole. Quaeque polo posita est glaciali proxima serpens, Frigore pigra prius, neque formidabilis ulli, Incaluit, sumpsitque novas fervoribus iras. Met. I. ii. V. IM. The folded 'serpent next the frozen pole. Stiff and benumb'd before, began to roil, And raged with inward heat, and threaten'd wg,r. And shot a redder light from every star.-*— Addison* Statius could not omit this circumstance, though his immense dragon was a very quiet animal j Saevior anfractu laterum sinuosa retorquens Terga sulo, siccique nocens furit igne veneni. Thel?. U ▼, 118 The Seven Chiefs Calls forth his glowing terrors, raves aloud, Reviles the sage, as forming timVous league With war and fate. Frowning he speaks, and shakes The dark crest streaming o'er his shaded helm In triple wave ; whilst dreadful ring around The brazen bosses of his shield, impress'd With this proud argument. A sable sky Burning with stars ; and in the midst fulI-orb*d A silver moon, the eye of night, o er all Awful in beauty pours her peerless light. Clad ill these proud habiliments, he stands Close to the river's margin, and with shouts Demands the war, like an impatient steed. That pants upon the foaming curb, and waits With fiery expectation the known signal. Swift as the trumpet's sound to burst away. gl Before the Praetian gate, its bars remov'd, What equal chief wilt thou appoint against him ? P' ETEO. This military pride, it moves not me : ^* The gorgeous blazonry of arms, the crest High waving o'er the helm, the roaring boss, Harmless without the spear, imprint no wound. The sable night, spangled with golden stars. On his proud shield impress'd, perchance may prove A gloomy presage. Shou'd the shades of night Fall on his dying eyes, the boastful charge May to the bearer be deem'd ominous, And he the prophet of his own destruction, / Against his rage the son of Astacus, That breathes deliberate valour, at that gate Will I appoint commander ; bent on deeds Of glory, but a votary at the shrine Of modesty, he scorns the arrogant vaunt As base, but bids brave actions speak his worth. against Thebes. 119 The flowV of that bold stem, which from the ground * Rose arm'd, and fell not in the deathful fight, Is MenaHppus ; him his parent earth Claims as her own, and in her natural right Calls him to guard her from the hostile spear : But the brave deed the die of war decides. CHOR. Go then, my guardian hero, go ; And may each fav'riug God with bright success Thy gen'rous valour bless : For at thy country's dear command Thou arm*st thy righteous hand. To pour her vengeance on the foe. Yet my sad heart must sigh, When on the blood-empurpled ground, Gored with many a gaping wound, I see my dearest friends expiring lie. SOLD. May the Gods crown his valiant toil with conquest. But Capaneus against th' Electran gates * Takes his allotted post, and tow'ring stands ^ Vast as the earth-born giants, and inflam'd * To more than mortal daring : horribly He menaces the walls ; may Heav'n avert His impious rage I vaunts that, the Gods assenting Or not assenting, his strong hand shall rend Their rampires down ; that e'en the rage of Jove Descending on the field shou'd not restrain him. His lightnings, and his thunders wing'd with fire He likens to the sun's meridian heat. On his proud shield pourtray'd, A naked man Waves in his hand a blazing torch f ; beneath * A$ Menalippus here and Megareus were of the dragon-race, that spruug armed from the earth, there is a pecuHar propriety in calling tliem forth to defend that earth, and repay that nouriturc she gave them. t Stanley allows that this insigne may be supposed to allude to an ancient 120 • The Sevea Chiefs 111 golden letters, I will fire the city. Against this man — But who shall dare t' engage His might, and dauntless his proud rage sustain ? ETEO. Advantage from advantage here arises. The arrogant vaunts, which man's vain tongue throws ouf^ Shall on himself recoil. This haughty chief Threats high, and prompt to execute his threats Spurns at the Gods, opes his unhallow'd lips In shallow exultations, hurls on high, Weak mortal as he is, 'gainst Jove himself Hurls his extravagant and wild defiance. On him, I trust, the thunder winged with fire f, Far other than the sun's meridian heat, Shall roll its vengeance. But against his pride. Insolent vaunter, shall the glowing spirit, ^ That burns for glory in the daring breast Of Polyphontes, be oppos'd ; his arm. Strong in Diana's tutelary aid, custom in use before the invention of trumpets, where the torch-bearer, sa- cred to Mars, by stepping into the middle space between the two armies, used / to brandish it as a signal for the onset. The man being naked marks the contempt with which Capaneus treated the enemy, and implies that he needed no arms to attack and fire the city. — R. P. Jodrell. These observations are in the genuine spirit of criticism, and show great penetration and judgment : Euripides could give this torch-bearer the name of Prometheus only as a metonymy ; and from this custom arose that bold metaphor which we shall find in ihe Persians, SaXTrtyf avT^ Ivrs^XsyEv, and the Martemque accendere cautu of Virgil. t There i» a noble spirit of religious confidence in this assertion ; it de- serves to be menifoned, that this impious boaiter perished by that lightning which he thus defied. — R. P. JouREtL. The learned reader will find a bold and s}>irited narrative of the daring actions of this hero, and his death, at the end of the tenth book of the Thebaid of Statius, a writer whose fiery genius sometimes overleaped judgment but who compensates for this with ' Tlioughts that breathe, and words tbat burn. against Thebes. 121 / Shall be a sure defence. But to tby tale ; Who next before our gates assumes his station ? CHOR. Yes, let him perish, the proud foe, Thai storms, in savage hope, the vanquished town, And rends its rampires down. Him first may Heav'n's almighty sire, Rolling his vengeful fire. Dash in the flaming ruin low ; E'er his impetuous spear Bursts ev'ry bar of my retreat, And from my virgin seat Drags me perforce from all my soul holds dear. SOLD. Third from the brazen helm leap*d forth the lot Of fierce Eteoclus, who takes his post Against the gates of Neis : there he whirls His fiery-neighing steeds, thit toss their heads Proud of their nodding plumes, eager to rush Against the gates, and snorting champ their curbs BossM with barbaric pride. No mean device ^ Is sculptured on his shield, A man in arms, His ladder fix'd against the enemies' walls, Mounts, resolute to rend their rampires down ; And cries aloud, the letters plainly mark'd. Not Mars HIMSELF shall beat me from the tow'rs. Appoint of equal hardihood some chief To guard the city from the servile yoke. ETEO. Such shall I send, to conquest send him; one That bears not in his hand this pageantry Of martial pride. The hardy Megareus, From Creon sprung, and that bold race, which ro§e Embattled from the earth : him from the gates The furious neighings of the fiery steeds Affright not; but his blood spilt on the earth 122 The Seven Chiefs Amply requites the noiiriture slie gave him, Or captive both, the man in arms, the town Storm'd on the sculptur'd shield, and the proud bearer, Shall with their spoils adorn his father's house. CHOR. Go then, and glory be thy guide! For thee, brave youth, we pour this ardent prayV, And fav'ring Heav'n shall hear. Go then, my house's guardian, go. And rushing on the foe, Bravely repel their vaunting pride. And as each furious soul Hurls the ferocious menace high, May he, that rules the sky, In vengeance his indignant eye-balls roll ! SOLD. At the next gate, nam'd from the martial Goddess Onca Minerva, stands Hippomedon *. I heard his thund'ring voice, I saw his form In bulk and stature proudly eminent; 1 saw him roll his shield, large, massy, round, Of broad circumference : it struck my soul With terror. On its orb no vulgar artist Express'd this image, A Typha3us huge. Disgorging from his foul enfoulder'd jaws,. In fierce effusion, wreaths of dusky smoke. Signal of kindling flames : its bending verge * Of the other gates we find no satisfactory account to lay before the reader t but the scholiast here observes, tiiat Onca was one of the titles of Minerva at Thebes, which Cadmus introduced from Phoenicia, where she was so called. " The scholiast on the secoud Olympic ode of Pindar asserts, that Cadmus erected at'Oyxat, a village in Bceotia, a statue of Pallas, who was therefore worshipped under the title of'OyxottaJ see also the scholiast on Lycophron, V. 1225. She had two temples at Thebes, from which she had two titles, Oncaea and Ismenia ; the latter certainly derived from the river Ismenus. See CEdip. Tyr. Sophoclis, v. 20- on which the scholiast gives OlKxia, by mistake for 'OyKoc,ix,-^R, P. Jour ell. against Thebes. 125 With folds of twisted serpents bordered round. With shouts the giant-chief provokes the war; - -And in the ravinojs of outrageous valour Glares terror from his eyes. Behoves thee then Strong opposition to his fiery rage, Which at the gates e'en now spreads wild dismay. KTEO. First, Onca Pallas, holding near the gates* Her hallow'd state, abhors his furious rage ; And in her guardian care shall crush the pride Of this fell dragon. Then the son of iEnops, Hyperbius, of approv'd and steady valour. Shall man to man oppose him ; one that dares Assay his fate in the rough shock of battle ; In form, in spirit, and in martial arms Consummate ; such high grace Hermes conferred. In hostile arms thus man shall combat man, And to the battle on their sculptur'd shields Bring adverse Gods ; the fierce Typhaeus he. Breathing forth flakes of fire ; Hyperbius bears The majesty of Jove securely thron'd. Grasping his flaming bolt : and who e'er saw The Thund'rer vanquish'd ? In the fellowship Of friendly Gods, the conquerors are with us, They with the conquered ; and with like event These warriors shall engage; as Jove in fight Subdued the fell Typhasus, so his form Emblazon'd on the shield shall guard Hyperbius. CHOR, If ought of truth my soul inspires, This chief, that tow'ring o'er th' affrighted field • The scholiast on v. 170. interprets this to"^alluc[e to a picture, perhaps a statue of the protecting goddess placed at the entrance of the city, aud quotes Lycophron for her name of UvXunig so acquired.— Alexan. 1. 3h4. — whose scholiast ohserves, that it has a symbolical lueaning, and implied tliat wisdoiii should be always at their gates and doors. — R. P. Jour ell. 124 The Seven Chiefs Bears on his sculptured shield Th' enormous monster, buried deep Beneath a mountainous heap, lloUing in vain his turbid fires, Monster accurs'd, abhorr'd By Gods above, by men below ; This chief his head shall bow Low at the gate beneath the victor's sword. SOLD. Prophetic be thy hopes. At the north gate. Yet hear me, king, the fifth bold warrior take* His station, near the tomb where honoured lie^r Jove-born Amphion* : By his spear he swears. Which, as he grasps, he dares to venerate •f More than a God, and dearer to his eyes Thau the sweet light of Heav'n : by this he swears, To level with the ground the walls of Thebes, . Tho' Jove himself oppose him. Thus exclaims ^ This beauteous branch sprung from a mountain nymph J, P Blooming in manly youth ; the tender down f Of unripe age scarce sprouting on his cheek ; But ruthless are his thoughts, cruel his eye And proudly vaunting at the gate he takes His terrible stand. Upon his clashing shield. Whose orb sustains the storm of war, he bears • Ampliion, the son of Jupiter and Antiopa, having received a lute from Mercury, was so excellent a musician, that according to the fable, he brought the stones together with which the tower of Thebes was built : hence Horace culls him Thebanae conditor arcis— R. P. Jodrell. t Statius with more reason assigns this impiety to Capeneus, who is repre- ' sented as a conteniptor divuni, like Mezentius : the one says, Virtus mihi numen, et ensis, quem teneo j the other Dextra mihi deus, et tclum, quod missile libro Adsint. t This raountain nymph was the Arcadian Atalanta. against Thebes. 125 The foul disgrace of Thebes, a rav'nous sphinx, Fix'd to the plates ; the burnish'd monster round Pours a portentous gleam ; beneath her lies A Theban, mangled by her cruel fangs. 'Gainst this let each brave arm direct the spear. No hireling he, to prostitute for gold * The war, or shame the length of way he trod, E'en from Arcadia : such this stranger comes Parthenopoeus, and repays to Argos Its hospitable honours, 'gainst these tow^s Breathing proud menaces. The Gods avert them ! ETEO. That ruin, which their fierce aspiring thoughts With impious vaunts intend, may the just Gods Turn on themselves, total defeat, and shame; So let them perish I To this proud Arcadian No boaster we oppose ; but one whose hand Knows its rough work. Actor, the valiant brother Of him last named. Never will he permit The tongue, without th' assay of warlike deeds, ^ To rush within the gates, and execute Its ruinous threats ; nor him, whose hostile shield Bears sculptured that abhorr'd and rav'ning beast : And many a thund'ring stroke with stern rebuke Shall check her proud advances to the walls. Soon shall the fav'ring Gods confirm these hopes, €11 OR. These words appal my throbbing breast: And the light tangles of my braided hair Rise upright with my fear. As from the impious foes around These dreadful voices sound. Furious with thund'ring threats exprest. * Ov KtxrnXtva-uv i^uxviv. Eiinius expresses the same idea under the same metaphor, Non cauponantes bellum, sed belligerantes. 126 The Sevea Chiefs Ye pow'rs that rule on high, Scatter their dreaded forces wide, Or let their crested pride . Low in the dust beneath our rampires lie ! SOLD. The sixth brave chief, that with the golden curb Of prudence knows to check this gen'rous valour. The fate-foretelling seer, Amphiaraus *, At th* Omol2ean gate-f- his destin'd post Assumes in arms, and on the fiery Tydeus Throws many a keen reproach, reviles him as An liomicide, the troubler of the state The mighty author of all ill to Argos, With murder and the furies at his heels Urging Adrastus to these hateful deeds. Thy brother Polynices, with him leagued In these despiteful deeds, he blames aloud, Descants upon his name, and thus rebukes hin>, * The modest and amiable augur had foretold the ill success of the war, and the death of all the chiefs, Adrastus only excepted ; he would therefore have concealed himself, but was betrayed by his wife Eriphyle, who had passion- ately desired some female ornament, which Polynices had given to Argia upon the day of their marriage: this was a necklace, or rather a cestus, the work of Vulcan, and by him presented t© Harmonia when she wedded Cad- mus, and had been fatal to her, to Semele, and to Jocasta, See Statins, 1. iu T. 272, &c. Sle Eriphyleos aurum fatale penates Irrupit, scelerumque ingentia semina raovit, Et grave Tysiphone risit gravisa futuris. As Amphiaraus was fighting bravely, the earth opened beneath him, and h* descended alive to the infernal regions with all his arms, and in his chariot. Statius has exerted the utmost force of his genius in describing this righteous hero. t The Thessalians gave the feasts of Ceres the name of Omol&ia, des deux ' mots, Omou ensemble, and Loion meilleur, excellent.— Histoire religieuse da Calandrier, par M. Court de Gebelin. The scholiast tells us, that these gates were so called from Omolois, a daughter of Niobe. asahist Thebes. 127 "O How grateful to the Gods must this deed be, Glorious to hear, and in the roll of fame Shining to distant ages, thus to lead These foreign arms to waste thy bleeding country, To raze those princely mansions, where thy fathers, Heroes and demigods, once held their seats ! But say thy cause be just, will justice dry Thy mother's tears ? And when the furious spear, Hurl'd by thy hand, shall pierce thy country's bosom, Will she with friendly arms again receive thee? Prescient of fate 1 shall enrich this soil. Sunk in the hostile plain. But let us fight. One thing at least is mine : 1 will not find A vulgar, or dishonourable death. So spoke the prophet ; and with awful port Advanc'd his massy shield, the shining orb Bearing no impress : for his gen'rous soul Wishes to be, not to appear, the best ; And from the culture of his modest worth Bears the rich fruit of great and glorious deeds. Him let the virtuous and the wise oppose ; For dreadful is the foe that fears the Gods. ETEO. I moura the destiny, that blends the just With these unhallow'd wretches. Nothing worse In whate'er cause, than impious fellowship ; Nothing of good is reap'd; for when the field Is sown with wrong, the ripen'd fruit is death. If with a desperate band, whose hearts are hot With villany, the pious hoists his sails. The vengeance of the Gods bursts on the bark And sinks him with the heav'n-detested crew. If 'midst a race, inhospitably bent On savage deeds, regardless of the Gods, The just man fix his seat, th' impending wrath 128 The Seven Chiefs Spares not, but strikes him with vindictive fury, Crushed in the general ruin. So this seer. Of temper'd wisdom, of unsullied honour, Just, good, and pious, and a mighty prophet, In despite to his better judgment join'd With men of impious daring, bent to tread The long, irremeable way, with them Shall, if high Jove assist us, be dragg'd down To joint perdition. Ne'er shall he advance Against our gates, withheld not by base fear, Or cowardice of soul ; but that he knows His fate, if Phoebus ought of truth foretels. To fall in fight : he loves then to be silent. Since what the time demands he cannot speak. Yet him against the strength of Lasthenes, Who from the stranger's inroad guards our gates. Shall I oppose : in manhood's vig'rous prime He bears the providence of age ; his eye Quick as the lightning's glance ; before his shield Flames his protended spear *, and longs t' obey His hand. But victory is the gift of Heav*n. ^'HOR. That gift, ye great immortal pow'rs, On the brave guardians of our state bestow ; On each victorious brow * The radiant honour bind ! Oh, hear A virgin's pious pray'r; Chase the proud strangers from our tow'rs ; Or headlong let them fall. Thy red right hand, almighty sire, Rolling its vengeful fire, In flaming ruin stretch'd beneath our wall ! SOLD. The seventh bold chief — Forgive me that I name * Amidst the obscurity of this passage, and the uncertainty of the anno tators, the translator has selected that idea, which seems most poeticai. against Thebes. 129 .Thy brother, and relate the horrible vows. The imprecations, which his rage pours forth Against the city; on lire to mount the walls, And from their turrets to this land proclaim. Rending its echoes with the song of war. Captivity : to meet thee sword to sword, Kill thee, then die upon thee : if thou livest, ' T' avenge on thee his exile and disgrace With the like treatment. Thund'ring vengeance thus, The rage of Polynices calls the Gods Presiding o'er his country, to look down. And aid his vows. His well-orb'd shield he holds, New-wrought, and with a double impress charged : A warrior, blazing all in golden arms, A female form of modest aspect leads. Expressing justice, as th' inscription speaks, Yet once more to his country, and once more to his paternal thiione, i will restore him. Such their devices. But th* important task, Whom to oppose against his force, is thine. Let not my words offend : 1 but relate. Do thou command ; for thou art sovereign here. ETEO. How dreadful is the hatred of the Gods * ! Unhappy sons of CEdipus, your fate Claims many a tear. Ah me ! my father's curse Now stamps its vengeance deep. But to lament, , * At the mention of each of the other chiefs Eteocles had shown himself unmoved, and given his orders with calmness and prudence ; nay, his re- flections on Amphiaraus have a solemn air of rehgion : but no sooner is his i)rother named, than he loses all temper; he begins indeed as if he virould lament the unhappy fate of his family, but soon starts from that idea, and though himself the agressor, reviles his brother as insolent, outrageous, and unjust from his infancy ; tlieu in the spirit of a mari that has done an injury, who never forgives, works himself up to that ungoverned rage, which de* stroyed his brother, luTnstlf, and all the unhappy family of (Edipus. S 130 The Seven Chiefs Or sigh, or shed the tear, becomes me not, Lest more intolerable grief arise. Be Polynices told, ill-omen'd name, \ Soon shall we see how far his blazon'd shield Avails ; how far inscriptions wrought in gold. With all their futile vauntings, will restore him. If justice, virgin daughter of high Jove, Had ever form'd his mind, or ruFd his actions. This might have been : but neither when his eyes First saw the light of life ; nor in the growth Of infancy ; nor in th' advancing years Of youth ; nor in the riper age, that clothes With gradual down the manly cheek, did justice E'er deign t' instruct, or mark him for her own. Nor now, I ween, in this his fell intent To crush his country will her presence aid him : \ For justice were not justice, shou'd she favour ll Th' injurious outrage of his daring spirit. t^ In this confiding I will meet his arms ' In armed opposition : Who more fit ? Chief shall engage with chief, with brother brother. And foe with foe. Haste, arm me for the fight. Bring forth my greaves, my hauberk, my strong spear. CHOR. Dear to thy country, son of CEdipus, Be not thy rage like his, whom we abhor. Thebes has no dearth of valiant sons t' oppose These Argives ; and their blood may be aton'd; The death of brothers by each other slain. That stain no expiation can atone. IT EG. Cou'd man endure defeat without dishonour, 'Tvvere well : but to the dead nothing remains. Save glory : to the dastard, and the base Fanje never pays that honourable meed. €HOR. Ah, whither dost thou rush ? Let not revenge, against Thebes. 131 That wildly raving shakes the furious spear, Transport thee thus. Check this hot tide of passion. KTEo. No : since the God impels me, 1 will on. ^ And let the race of Laius, let them all, Abhorr'd by Phoebus, iu this storm of fate Sink down to deep Cbcytus' dreary flood. CHOR. Cruel and murd'rous is the rage that fires thee To deeds of death, to unpermitted blbod ; And sorrow is the bitter fruit it yields. ETEO. My father's curse, a stern relentless fury, Rolling her tearless eyes, looks on and tells me Glory pursues her prize, disdaining fate. CHOR. Ah, rave not thus : Fame will not call thee base Or cowardly, if well thy life be order'd. The gloomy fury enters not his house, Whose hands present th' accepted sacrifice. ETEO, The Gods accept not us ; and on our fall Glory attends admiring : Why then sue For grace, with servile fear cringing to death ? CHOR. For that it is at hand : its terrible pow'r Sooth'd by th' abatement of this fiery valour. May come perchauce more gentle; now it rages. ETEO. My father's imprecations rage, and haunt My sleep : too true the real visions rise. And wave the bloody sword that parts his kingdomfs. CHOR. Let us persuade thee, tho' thou scorn'st our sex. ETEO. What wou'd thy wish have done? Speak it in brief. CHOR. Ah, go not this way : go not to this gate. ETEO. My souPs on fire ; nor shall thy words retard me. CHOR. Conquest, that spurns at right, offends the Gods. ETEO. Ill suit these tame words the arm'd warrior's ear. CHOR. And canst thou wish to spill thy brother's blood ? ETEO. By the just Gods he shall not 'scape my vengeance*. • The English reader wUl allow, that in variety of character and dignity of 132 The Seven Chiefs «iroR. She comes, the fierce tremendous po\v>*, And harrows up my soul with dread ; No gentle Goddess, prompt to show'r Her blessings on some favoured head. I know her now, the prophetess of ill, And vengeance ratifies each word, The votive fury, fiend abhorr'd ; The father's curses to fulfil Dreadful she comes, and with her brings The brood of fate, that laps the blood of kings. The rude barbarian, from the mines Of Scythia, o*er the lots presides ; expression this is one of the finest scenes ever prodaced by a dramatic author. The devices on the shields, the spirit of the warriors, and the defiance of Ete- ocles, all proclaim that wonderful hivor'^g, or tragia sublimity, which charac- terised i^ilschylus. What can we think then of the unfeeling criticism of P. Bru- inoy ? who says, Cette scene est fort longuc, et n'a pu etre interessante que pour les Atheniens qui connoissoient Thebes, et les chefs, dont on va parler. H. P. JODRELL. * As soon as (Edipus came to be informed that he had killed his father Laius, and that Jocasta, by whom he had two sous and two daughters, was his mother, in the transport of his grief he tore out hiy eyes. When his sons were grown up to man's estate, they shut up their father now old and blind, and agreed to divide his kingdom between them : CEdipus deeply resented this treatment, and nttered the most horrid execrations against them, praying that they vniglit divide the kingdom by the sword. Statins knew how to make a fine use of this. How fatal a father's curse was esteemed, we have seen in the Prometheus. To prevent its dreaded effects, the brothers agreed to reign each a year alternately, and each alternately to leave the kingdom : Eteocles, as the elder, first assumed the sovereignty -, but upon the expiratioa of his year refused to resign it to his brother : hence this war, their father's prophetic curse, which is greatly represented through this tragedy as an avenging fury : even the sword is personified, and represented as a rude bar- barian from the mines of Scythia, and advancing over the seas, attended with mischief and war, as a cruel umpire to divide the kingdom between the brothers, but assigning to each no larger a share than their dead bodies could occupv on the earth. These are the conceptions of a genius truly sublime, and which distinguish iiischylus and Shakespeare from all other writers. against Thebes. 133 Ruthless to each his share assigns, And the contested realrii divides : To each allots no wider a domain Than, on the cold earth as they lie, Their breathless bodies occupy. Regardless of an ampler reign. Such narrow compass does the sword, A cruel umpire, their high claims aflFord, Conflicting thus in furious mood, Shou'd each by other's hand be slain ; Shou'd the black fountain of their blood Spout forth, and drench the thirsty plain ^ Who shall the solemn expiation pay ? Who with pure lavers cleanse the dead ? Miseries to miseries thus succeed, And vengeance marks this house her prey, ^ Swift to chastise the first ill deed ; , J And the son's sons in her deep fury bleed. The first ill deed from Laius sprung : Thrice from his shrine these words of fate Awful the Pythian Phoebus sung, *' Die childless, wou'dst thou save the state.' Urg'd by his friends, as round the free wine flows. To Love's forbidden rites he flies. By the son's hand the father dies. He in the chaste ground, whence he arose. Was bold t' implant the deadly root ; And madness rear'd each baleful-spreading shoot. Wide o'er misfortune's surging tide Billows succeeding billows spread ; Shou'd one, its fury spent, subside. Another lifts its boist'rous head, 1 134 The Seven Chiefs And foams around the city's shatter'd prow. But shou'd the rough tempestuous wave Force through our walls too slight to save. And lay the thin partition low, Will not the flood's resistless sway Sweep kings and people, town and realms away ? f ' The dreadful curse pronounc'd of old To vengeapce rouses ruthless hate ; And slaughter, ranging uncontroll'd) Pursues the hideous work of fate. Wreck'd in the storm the great, the brave, the wise Are sunk beneath the roaring tide. Such was the chief, this city's pride, De^r to each God in yon bright skies, Whose prudence took our dread away, The rav'ning monster gorg'd with human prey. Where now the chief? His glories where ? Fall'n, fallen. From the polluted bed Indignant madness, wild despair. And agonizing grief succeed. The light of Heav'n, himself, his sons abhorr'd, Darkling he feeds his gloomy rage, Bids them, with many a curse, engage. And part their empire with the sword. That curse now holds its unmov'd state. The furious fiend charg'd with the work of fate. SOLDIER, CHORUS. SOLD. Have comfort, virgins, your fond parents' joy; The city hath escap'd the servile yoke. And the proud vaunts of these impetuous men Are fall'n : the storm is ceas'd, and the rough waves^, That threatened to overwhelm us, are subsided. against Thebes. 135 Our tow'rs stand firm, each well-appointed chief Guarded his charge with manly fortitude. All at six gates is well : but at the seventh The God, to whom that mystic number's sacred *, Royal Apollo, took his awful stand, Repaying on the race of (Edipus The ill-advis'd transgression of old Laius. CHOR. What new affliction hath befall'n the city? SOL©. The city is preserved : the brother kings Are fall'n, each slaughter'd by the other's hand. CHOR. Who? What? Thy words distract my sense with fear. SOLD. Be calm, and hear. The sons of CEdipus. Hesiod tells us here that the seventh is a sacred day, because on that day Latona brought forth Apollo with the golden sword, M. Courtde Gebelin say* with the golden hair, a chevelure dor6e. That the seventh day of each month was sacred to Apollo, because he was born on that day, was true only in the allegorical sense : this was taken from the philosophical ideas of the Egyptians, brought into Greece by Pythagoras, respecting the harmony of the universe, founded on the seven planets and their relations, and in ge- neral upon the number seven, Nonnus gives the planets the same arrange- ments which they have in the musical system of the Egyptians, where the sun placed in the fourth rank, or in the middle of the progression, terminates and begins the two quaternions, or fours, that form the system. — Gebelin's Allegories Oricntale^ p. 90. Milton knew how to make the finest use of this idea of the harmony of the spheres. How often from the steep Of echoing hill, or thicket, have we heard Celestial voices to the midnight air, Sole, or responsive to each other's note. Singing their great Creator ? Oft in bands While they keep watch, or nightly rounding walk. With hcav'niy touch of instrumental sounds. In full hat'monic number join' d, their songs t^vidc the night, and lift our thoughts to heav'n, P. L. b. iv. 1. 680. 156 The Seven Chiefs CHOR. Ah me ! 1 am the praphetess of ill. SOLD, It is indeed too certain: both are dead. CHOR. Came they to this ? 'Tis horrible ; yet tell me. SOLD. Brother by brother's hands dreadfully slain. CHOR. And has one common fate involved them both ? SOLD. It has indeed destroyed th' unhappy race. Here then is cause for lamentation, cause For joy : joy, that the city stands secure ; But lamentation, that the chiefs are fall'n. To both the rigid steel, forg'd in the mines Of Scythia, shares their whole inheritance ; And each receives but that small tract of earth. Which serves him for a tomb ; their fether's curse. Fatally cruel, sweeps them both away. The city is preserved ; but the dust drinks The blood of the brothers, each by th* other slain. CHORUS. HON. O Jove supreme, And all ye Gods that guard this state, ShouM I the joyful Paean raise. And celebrate your praise ? Your guardian care, propitious pow'rs, Preserved our walls, preserved our tow'rs 1 Or bid the solemn, doleful strain Lament the chiefs, the brothers slain ; A mournful theme ; Thro' mad ambition's impious pride Childless, unbless'd, in youth's warm tide Fall'n, fall'n by too severe a fate ? STRO. Thou gloomy curse, too prompt to ill, A father's vengeance to fulfil, I feel, 1 feel thee in my shivVing breast ! Soon as I heard th' unhappy slain against Thebes. 137 Lay welt'ring on ih' ensanguin'd plain, With inspiration's raging pow'r possest, 1 forin'd the funeral strains to flow With all the melody of woe. [Tis. Ihou fell, ill-on)en'd, cruel spear, Cou dst thou the father's curses hear, And wing'd with fury drink the brothers gore ? Now, Laius, boast the frantic deed : Thy disobedience has its meed ; The fatal oracle delays no more. These are your works ; and round them stand Horrors, and death's avenging band. OD. Is this a tale of fear-created woe ? In very deed before our eyes [The dead bodies of Eteocles and Polynioes are here brought on the Stage.] A twofold scene of misery lies, And from a double slaughter double horrors flow ; Whilst grief on grief, and groan on groan Rush in, and make this house their own. Come then, ye virgins, from the mournful bands, To wail the mighty slam; And ever and anon, at each sad pause The dying cadence draws. Together smite your high-rais'd hands, The sullen sound attempered to the strain, That with many a dismal note Accompanies the sable boat, Slow as its sails on Acheron's dull stream. Wafting its joyless numbers o'er To that unlovely, dreary shore. Which Phoebus never views, nor the light's golden beam. 1st. SEMI. But see, to aid this mournful office come Antigone and Ismene : they besure Will, from their lovely gentleness of soul. 138 The Seven Chiefs Pour for their brothers* loss their sorrows wild. Behoves us then, e'er the sad tale shall reach Their ear, with meet solemnity to raise The thrilling strain, and chaunt the hymn of death. 2d. SEMI. Unhappy in your brothers, most unhappy Of all, that o'er their swelling bosoms bind The decent vest, f weep, I breathe the sigh Warm from my heart, that feels for your afflictions. ANTIGONE, ISMENE, CHORUS. ] St. SEMI. Ah, what frantic rage possesi Each unyielding, ruthless breast, Wisdom scorn'd, and friends defi'd, By threatening ills unterrifi'd, 'Gainst their father's house to bear Wretched they, the fatal spear! 2d. SEMI. Wretched they a wretched death Found their house's fall beneath. ^ 1st. SEMI. Each the ruin'd palace o'er Strove t' extend his envied pow'r : Each unrivall'd and aloUe Proudly strove to seize the throne. But the sword their contest ends, Not the lovely strife of friends. Hate, that never knows remorse, Fury of the father's curse. Thro' their sides with horrid sway Urg'd the sharp steel's purple way. 2d. SEMI. Charg'd with death thou cruel curse, Each hath felt thy fatal force. 1st. SEMI. Brother pierc'd by brother dies, Low theii* house in ruin lies. 2d. SEMI. From the father's furious breath Discord rose, and rage, and death. against Thebes. 139 1st. SEMI. Grief with wild, distracted air Thro' the city leads despair ; The towVs on high, the vales below, Sigh the sullen notes of woe. To other lords the large domains, And the envied pow'r remains ; Of the territories wide, For which they fought, for which they died. Each receives an equal share. Fiercely parted by the spear : Cruel arbiter of fate, Friends thy rude decisions hate. 2d. SEMI. Pierc*d with steel each finds his end : Pierc'd with steel they haste t' attend Their fathers, by like bloody death. In the yawning grave beneath. 1st. SEMI. Grief, that rends the tortur'd breast, j Deep with real woes possest, ^ Tears fast streaming from her eyes From the haunts of pleasure flies, Anguish misery, all her own. Sadly pours the hollow groan ; Whilst the ruin'd palace round Echo answers to the sound ; And, each frightful pau.se between. From her airy shell unseen. Listens to the funeral strain, WaiUng the unhappy slain ; Wailing all the dreadful woes That from madding discord rose ; Many a friend among the dead. Whilst the hostile legions bleed. 3d. SEMI. Far beyond each sorrowing dame. Each that bears a mother's name^ i 140 The Seven Chiefs Each that groans upon the earth, Hapless she ihat gave them birth. She, to shart her bed and throne. As an husband took her son : These she bore, and this their fate, Brother slain by brother^ hate. ISM. Brothers they, by birth alUed, Spread the mutual carnage wide : Unfriendly each to other's life. In the madding rage of strife. But their hatred is no more, On the earth, all stain'd with gore, 1 heir stream of life unites, and shows From one common source it rose. CHOB. Umpire of the strife of kings, Forth the barbarous stranger springs : Ruthless issuing from the flame O'er the seas the keen steel came. Ruthless came the realm to share, Big with mischief, wasting war, And accurs'd, without renjorse. Executes a father's curse. ANT. They have the wretched share they chose. Share of heav'n-appointed woes * : And the rich, congested prize Deep beneath earth's bosom lies. ISM. It falls, the royal house, it falls; Ruin lords it o'er its walls ; And the furies howl around, ^Notes of shrill, soul-piercmg sound. Slaughter, r< ekuig yet with gore, Raises high each gate before, \. * This passage is inexplicably obscure. The translator is obliged to leave it so. against Thebes. 141 Where they fought, and where they bled. Trophies of the mighty dead; i And, the rival chiefs subdued, Ceases from her work of blood. ANT. Wounded thou gavc^st the fatal wound. ISM. D)ing thy hand its vengeance found. ANT. By the spear 'twas thhie to kill. ISM. And the spear's thy blood to spill. ANT. Fierce thy thought, and fell thy deed. ISM. Fierce recoil'd it on thy head. ANT. Flow my tears. ISM. My sorrows flow. ANT. He, that slew, shall lie as low. Madness mingles with my moans. ISM. Heaves my heart, and bursts with groans, ANT. Thou shalt claim the ceaseless tear. ISM. > To my soul wast thou most dear. ANT. Thee thy friend stretch'd on the plain. ISM. And by thee thy friend is slain. ANT. Twice to see. ISM. And twice to tell. ANT, Near us do these sorrows dwell. ISM. Near us dwell these sorrows, near As to sisters brothers are. ANT. Fate, in ail thy terrors clad, CEdipus, thy awful shade, , Erinnys, frowning black as night, Dreadful, dreadful is your might ! ISM. Fierce from flight achiev'd he deeds. At which my heart with anguish bleeds. ANT, Nor is he return'd that slew. ISM. Safe himself, on death he flew. ANT. Death upon himstlf he brought. JSM, And to him destruction wrought. \ 143 The Seven Chiefs ^jjx. Sprung from an unhappy line. ISM. 1» o^G unhappy fate ihey join. ANT, Mournful, threefold misery. ISM. Sad to tell. ^NT. -And sad to see. Fate in all thy terrors clad, CEdipus, thy awful shade, Erinnys, frowning black as night, Dreadful, dreadful is your might! Thou their pow'r hast past, hast known. Soon this knowledge was thy own. To the town advancing near. ISM. Lifting high thy purple spear. Burning fierce with enmity, ANT. Sad to tell. And sad to see. Ah, what woes on us await ! And our house oppress'd with fate : Thro' the land the evils spread. Falling heaviest on my head, ANT. I th' afflicting burden share, Equal sorrow, equal care. Eteocles, from thee it flows, Author of these mournful woes. Each the gushing tear demands. Each with frenzy arm'd his hands. Where shall we with pious care The sepulchral earth prepare ? Where the hallow'd ground shall spread Awful honours o'er the dead. ANT. Their unhappy father nigh Let the mournful ruins lie. ANTIGONE, ISMENE, CHORUS, HERALD.. HER. My office leads me to proclaim the mandate. ISM. ANT. ISM. ANT. ISM. ISM. ANT ISM. ANT ISM. against Thebes. 143 Of the great rulers of the Theban state. Eteocles, for that he lov'd his country, They have decreed with honour to inter. To shield her from her foes he fought, he fell, Her sacred rites revered, unstain'd with blame. Where glory calls the valiant youth to bleed, He bled, llius far of him am 1 bid say. Of Polynices, that his corpse shall lie Cast out unburied, to the dogs a prey ; Because his spear, had not the Gods opposed. Threatened destruction to the land of Thebes. In death the vengeance of his country's Gods Pursues him, for he scorn'd them, and presum'd To lead a foreign host, and storm the town. Be this then his reward, to lie expos'd To rav'qous birds, unhonoured, of the rites* That grace the dead, libations at the tomb. The solemn strain, that 'midst the exequies Breathes from the friendly voice of woe, deprived. These are the mandates of the Theban rulers. ANT. And to these Theban rulers I declare, If none besides dare bary him, myself Will do that office, heedless of the danger, And think no shame to disobey the state. Paying the last sad duties to a brother. • To be deprived of the rites of sepulture was to the ancients the greatest of all calamities, much worse than death itself. Euripides has a fine tragedy, the whole distress of which turns upon this idea; a trans'ation of this will shortly be given to the public, and the reader may expect to find the subject more fully examined. — As the Chorus were by their office to be exact ob- . servers of the laws religious and civil, their task was here very nice and dif- ficult. Not to assist in burying the dead, were impious : not to obey the mandates of their rulers, were an offence against the laws of their country : the poet with great judgment leaves this interesting point undetermined, in the only manner that remained not to give offence. \ 144 The Seven Chiefs Nature has tender ties, and strongly joins The offspring of the same unhappy mother, And the same ^\'retched father. In this task Shrink not, my soul, to share the ills he suffei^d, Involuntary ills ; and whilst life warms This breast, be bold to show a sister's love To a dead brother. Shall the famish'd wolves Fatten on him ? Away with such a thought. I, tho' a woman, will piepare his tomb, Dig up the earth, and bear it in this bosom^ In these fine folds to cover him. Go to. 1 w ill not be oppos'd. Fruitful invention Shall devise means to execute the task. HER. 1 charge thee not t' offend the state in this. ANT. I charge thee waste not words on me in vain, HER. Rage soon inflames a people freed from danger. ANT. Inflame them thou, he shall not lie unburied. HER. Wilt thou thus grace the object of their hate ? ANT. Long have they strove to load him with dishonour. HER. Not till he shook this land with hostile arms. ANT. Great were his wrongs, and greatly he reveng'd them« HER. Injur'd by one, his vengeance burst on all. ANT. Discord, the meanest of the Gods, will do What she resolves ; spare then thy tedious speecli^ And be assur'd that I will bury him. HER. Self will'd, and unadvised ! I must declare this. ANTIGONE, ISMENE, CHORUS. lat. SEMI. With what a ruthless and destructive rage The Furies hurl their vengeful shafts around, And desolate the house of CEdipus ! What then remains for me ? and how resolve ir^ Can I forbear to mourn thee, to attend thee And the sad tomb ? Yet duly to the state. against Thebes. 145 And reverence to its mandates, awes my soul. Thou * shalt have many to lament thy fall : Whilst he t, unwept, unpitied, unattended, Save by a sister's solitary sorrows. Sinks to the shades. Approve you this resolve ? 2d. SEMI. To those, that wail the fate of Polynices, Let the state act its pleasure. We will go, "* Attend his funeral rites, and aid his sister To place him in the earth. Such sorrows move The common feelings of humanity ; And, where the deed is just, the state approves it. Ist.sEMi. And we with him, as justice and the state Concur to call us. Next th* immortal Gods, And Jove*s high powV, this valiant youth came forth The guardian of his country, and repell'd Th' assault of foreign foes, whose raging forc^ Rush'd like a torrent threatening to o'erwhelm us. * Eteocles. t Polynice*. .., , ..A f AGAMEMNON, PERSONS OP THE DRAMA. WATCHMAN CLYTEMNESTRA HERALD AGAMEMNON CASSANDRA iEGISTHUS CHORUS of Argive Senators. AGAMEMNON In this tragedy the jteader will find the strongest traces of the genius of iEschylus, and the most dis- tinguishing proofs of his skill. Great in his con- ception, bold and daring in his metaphors, strong in his passions, he here touches the heart with un- common emotions. The odes are particularly sub- lime, and the oracular spirit, that breathes through them, adds a wonderful elevation and dignity to them. Short as the part of Agamemnon is, the poet has the address to throw such an amiable dignity around him, that we soon become interested in his favour, and are predisposed to lament his fate. The character of Clytemnestra is finely niarked ; an high- spirited, artful, close,determined, dangerous woman* But the poet has no where exerted such efforts of his genius, as in the scene where Cassandra appears ; As a prophetess, she gives every mark of the di- vine inspiration, from the dark and distant hint, through all the noble imagery of the prophetic enthusiasm ; till, as the catastrophe advances, she more and more plainly declares it : As a suffering 150 princess, her grief is plaintive, lively, and piercing; yet she goes to meet her death, which she clearly foretels, with a firmness worthy the daughter of Priam and the sister of Hector : Nothing can be more animated or more interesting than this scene. The conduct of the poet through this play is exqui- sitely judicious ; every scene gives us some obscure hint, or ominous presage, enough to keep our at- tention always raised, and to prepare us for the event; even the studied caution of Clytemnestra is finely managed to produce that effect ; whilst the secrecy, with which she conducts her design, keeps US; in suspense, and prevents a discovery, till we hear the dying groans of her murdered husband. It is to be lamented that a late amiable poet, in his tragedy on this subject, which too he wished to have esteemed a& clasjfeical, should have deviated so far from his great original, particularly ia the character of Clytemnestra: but as he wanted strength of genius to imitate the noble simplicity of aEschylus, his taste led him to take Seneca for his model ; and he has succeeded accordingly. The scene of this play is at Argos, before the palace of Agamemnon. AGAMEMNON The WATCHMAN*. JL E fav'ring Gods, relieve me from this toil : Fix'd, as a dog, on Agamemnon's roof I watch the live-long year, observing hence The host of stars, that in the spangled skies Take their bright stations, and to mortals bring Winter and summer ; radiant rulers, when They set, or rising glitter thro' the night. * This watchman had his station assigned him upon the royal palace at Argos, to observe the signal which Agamemnon had promised to gire CI j- temnestra, when Troy should be taken. This specularis indicatio, this in- formation by beacons, was said to have been invented by Sinon in the time of the Trojan war ; but ^Eschylus had a poetic right to attribute it to his hero. The man, after nine years passed in this sleepless post, had reason to com- plain of a task which had fixed him to the roof of Agamemnon, like a dog ; aot that this was a debasing idea, that animal being the emblem of fidelity, ▼igilance, and sagacious discernment of friend from enemy, as the learned reader may find it accounted for in very good words by Plutarch in his Trea- tise on Isis and Osiris: they were therefore the usual night-guards of great houses ; Alcinous in the Odyssey had them of gold and silver, X^Jo-EiOi ^' EJcars^Se kocI ocpyvptoi Kvvig rjo'ctv 152 Agamemnon. Here now I watch, if haply I may see The blazing torch, whose flame brings news from Troy, The signal of its ruin : these high hopes My royal mistress, thinking on her lord *, Feeds in her heart. Meanwhile the dews of night Fall on my couch, unvisited by dreams ; For fear, lest sleep shou*d close my eyes, repels The soft intruder. When my spirits prompt me To raise the song, or hum the sullen notes Preventing slumber, then 1 sigh, and wail The state of this unhappy house, no more Well-order'd as of old. But may my toils Be happily reliev'd ! Blaze, thou bright flame, Herald of joy, blaze thro' the gloomy shades. — , And it does blaze. — Hail, thou auspicious flame, That streaming thro' the night denouncest joy, Welcom'd with many a festal dance in Argos! — In the queen's ear I'll holla this, and rouse her From her soft couch with speed +, that she may teach The royal dome to echo with the strains Of choral warblings greeting this blest Are, Bright sign that Troy is taken. Nor shall I ♦ One is surprised and sorry to find the excellent Stanley interpreting m.vd^oQovXov here by viro insidiantem, as if this Watchman had penetrated inta the horrid design of Clytemnestra. He had indeed observed, that the house was not now well ordered as of qld ; and he gives some humourous hints of the indecent conduct of the queen; but further than this his penetration; reached not. Had the great secret been thus early discovered, it would have at once removed that suspense and solicitude for the event, which the poet has the address to keep up throughout the play, in which we shall see cause to admire his art and judgment, t It is generally agreed, that Troy was taken in the night ; this supplied Euripides with the subject of a very pathetic ode in his Hecuba: thuj» Vi^giJr Invadunt urbem somao vinoque sepultam. i\(ramemnon. 153 to Forbear the prelude to the dance before her : For by this watch, so prosperously concluded, I to rny masters shall assure good fortune. Shall I then see my kmg return'd, once more To grace this house ? and shall this hand once more Hang on his friendly hand ? — 1 cou'd unfold A tale.-r-But, hush; my tongue is chained ; these walls; Cou'd they but speak, wou'd make discoveries. There are who know this ; and to th^m this hint Were plain : to those, that know it not, mysterious. €HOR. The tenth slow year rolls on, since great ia arms The noble sons of Atreus, each exalted To majesty an3~ebipire, royal brothers, Led hence a thousand ships, the Argive fleet, Big with the fate of Priam and of Troy ; A warlike preparation ; their bold breasts Breathing heroic ardour to high deeds ; Like vultures, which their unplumed offspring lost*. Whirl many a rapid flight, for that their toil To guard their young was vain : 'till some high pow'r, For they are dear to Phcebus, dear to Pan, And Jove, with pity hears their shrill-voic'd grief, And sends, tho' jate, the fury to avenge Their plunder'd nests on the unpitying spoilers. So now the pow'r of hospitable Jove f • The religious turn, which the poet has given to this simile, adds a so- lemn grace to the beautiful imagery, the vulture being sacred to Apollo, as the god of augury, to Pan as the patron of hunters, and to Jupiter as the pro- tector of kings. t We receive the highest ideas of the civilized manners and social sense af the ancients, from their religious observation of the rights of hospitality ; we liave many instances of this in Homer, particularly in the interview of Glau- cus and Diomede. Jupiter himself was the protector of these laws, hence his ^itle of |woj : to these laws Ovid alludes, Aususes hospitii temeratis adveuasacris Le^itimam nuptje sollicitare fidem. X 154 Agamemnon. Arms against Paris, for tb' oft-wedded dame*, The sons of Atrtius, bent to plunge the hosts Of Greece and Troy in all the toils, that sink The body down, the firm knee bow'd in dust, And the strong spear, e'er conquest crowns their helms, Shiver'd in battle. These are what they are. And Fate^directs th' event : nor the bent knee, Libation pure, or supplicating tear. Can sooth the stern rage of those merciless powVs In whose cold shrine no hallow'd flame ascends f • But we, our age-enfeebled limbs unfit. For martial toils, inglorious here remain. The staff supporting our weak steps, like children : For as the infant years have not attained The military vigour, withered age Crawls thro' the streets like helpless infancy, And passes as a day-dream. — But what tidings. What circumstances of fair event hath reach'd Thy royal ears, daughter of Tyudarus, Inducing thee to send the victims round ? The shrines of all the Gods, whose guardian cares Watch o'er this state, be they enthron'd in Heav'n, Or Tule beneath the Earth, blaze with thy presents ; And from th' imperial dome a length'ned line Of torches shoot their lustre to the skies. O tell me what is fit for me to know. And prudence suffers to be told : speak peace To this anxiety, which one while swells Presaging ill, and one while from the victims Catches a gleam of hope, whose cheering, ray Breaks thro' the gloom that darkens o'er my soul. • Helena was said to have been carried off b^ Theseus, before she was wedded to Menelaus. t The Fates and the Furies, at whose rites no fire was used. Agamemnon. 155 STRO. It swells upon my soul; I feel the pow'r* To hail th' auspicious hour, When, their brave hosts marching in firm array, The heroes led the way. The fire of youth glows in each vein, And heav'n-born confidence inspires the strain. Pleas'd the omen to record. That to Troy's ill-fated strand Led each monarch, mighty lord, Led the bold confederate band. The strong spear quiv'ring in their vengeful hand. Full in each royal chieftain's view, A royal eagle whirls his flight ; In plumage one of dusky hue, And one his dark wings edg'd with white; Swift to th' imperial mansion take their way. And in their armed talons bear, Seiz'd in its flight, a pregnant hare. And in those splendid seats enjoy their prey. Sound high the strain, the swelling notes prolong, Till conquest listens to the raptur'd song. ANTJS. The venerable seer, whose skill divine f * P. Brumoy, complaining of the obscurity of this tragedy, says, il y a tant de metaphores, de figures, et des tours extraordinaires, qu'on ne s9auroit se ▼auter de les avoir tous d6nieles. And of tiiis ode, I'on peut bien defier toute plume Fran^oise de rendre ce morceau, tant il est defigur6 et entortille. Dis. couraging this : for how shall the English grey-goose-quill hope to give the critical reader satisfaction, where the plume Fran9oise despairs ? Essayons cependaiit. The Chorus, seized with a sacred inspiration, records the omen which was given to the brother kings on their inarch from Argos. Two eagles, the one of dark plumage, the strongest and the swiftest of the kind, the other of a species somewhat inferior, seize a pregnant hnve, and bear it in their talons to the palace of Agamemnon. t liie fate- fore telling Chalcas explains the omen, that the imperial eagles 156 Agamemnon. Knows what tlie Fates design, On each bold chief, that for the battle burns, His glowing eye-ball turns ; And thus in high prophetic strains The rav'ning eagles and their prey explains : ^' Priam's haughty town shall fall, " Slow they roll, the destined hours, \ ' " Fate and fury shake her wall, " Vengeance wide the ruin pours, ^' And conquest seizes all her treasured stores. " Ah, may no storm from th' angry sky ^ " Burst dreadful o'er this martial train, " Nor check their ardour, flaming h«gh " To pour the war o'er Troy's proud plain ! *' Wrath kindles in the chaste Diana's breast : /' Gorg'd with the pregnant mother's blood, " And e'er the birth, her hapless brood, " Hell-hounds of Jove, she hates your horrid feast. *' Sound high the strain, the swelling notes prolong, " Till conquest listens to the raptur'd song. «lenote the royal brothers, and the capture of the hare their success in taking Troy ; but as the hare was pregnant, it was under the immediate protectiou of Diana, who, as goddess of the chase, was the guardian of the infant race of all animals that are feraj naturae : this the prophet fears i^ an indication of the anger of that goddess. This passage is very obscure, and certainly nothing elucidated by the an- notator, who sends us to the sparrows at Aulis for its interpretation ; whereas the precise words of the Chorus confine us to a single omen given to the kings when they were marching from the royal palace at Argos, Odioov oUmq ^Oio-iKiioiCt v. 164. ^schyl. nor will ^iXofxa-TOig o€*ft>caXojflr» permit us to think of unfledged birds : leav- ing Pauw and his adversaries then to settle what he calls ineptius gramma- ' ticorum, we thankfully adopt the very beautiful image he has given uy, and proceed. Agamemnon. 157 EPOD. " Tlie virgin Goddess of the chase, " Fair from the spangled dew-drops ihat adorn "The breathing flow'rets of the morn, ^' Protectress of the infant race <* Of all that haunt the tangled grove, " Or o'er the rugged mountains rove, ** She, beauteous queen, commands me to declare '* What by the royal birds is shown, ^[ Signal of conquest, omen fair, *' But darken'd by her awful frown, " God of the distant- wounding bow, ^^ Thee, Psean, thee I call ; hear us, and aid ♦ ; '' Ah, may not the offended maid ** Give the sullen gales to blow, " Adverse to this eager train, " And bar th' unnavigable main : *' l^or other sacrifice demand, " At whose barbaric rites no feast is spread; ** But discord rears her horrid head, *' And calls around her murd'rous band: '* Leagued with hate, and fraud, and fear, " Nor king, nor husband they revere ; *' Indignant o'er a daughter weep, " And burn to stamp their vengeance deep." Prophetic thus the reverend Chalcas spoke. Marking th' imperial eagles' whirling wings ; From his rapt lips the joyful presage broke, Success and glory to th' embattled kings. * The prophet, impressed with the idea of the anger of Diana, inrokes Apollo to appease his sister, thai she might not raise any adverse winds to re- tard the expedition, nor demanri any sacrifice of horrid and barbaric rites : by the first alluding to the contrary winds which afterwards detained the fleet at Aulis ; by the latter, to the >ucrifice of Tphigenia— Thus far the Chorus has recorded the prophecy of Chalcas. and with as little obscurity at one has rearstm"TOTypP"Ct"tnTucTi (^raaJlaTISis w ers, except in the beginning of tlie epode, where the text is unhappily corrupted. 158 Agamemnon. Sound high the strain, th' according notes prolong. Till conquest listens to the raptur'd song. STRO. 1. O thou *, that sit*st supreme above, Whatever name thou deign*st to hear, Unblam'd may I pronounce thee Jove ! Immers'd in deep and holy thought, If rightly I conjecture ought. Thy pow'r 1 must revere : Else vainly tost the anxious mind JSor truth, nor calm repose can find. Feeble and helpless to the light The proudest of man's race arose, Tho' now, exulting in his might, Dauntless he rushes on his foes ; Great as he is, in dust he lies ; He meets a greater, and he dies. ANTis. 1. He that, when conquest brightens round f ; • 'The Chorus now reassumes its proper character, and begins this od© -ft'itii a solemn address to Jupiter, illud, qui cquid est, suramura, if that name ■were agreeable to him ; for the ancients in their invocations of the Gods, were under a superstitious dread of otFending tliera, should they speak to them by a name ungrateful to their ears, or omit the name most pleasing to them. Him the Chorus reveres, as in him alone their anxious thoughts could find repose- Whoever he may be, that without this pious reverence exults in his might, he enjoys but a short-lived glory, He meets a greater^ and he dies. (The old Scholiast understands this of the Titans ; a modern critic agrees with him, but at the same time clearly sees that Xerxes and Darius are adunv- brated.) This is a general reflection. t On the other hand, the^man, who amidst his successes pays his grateful vows to Jupiter, shall have his prosperity continued to him. Though some- times, when the God leads mottals to wisdom, he efFecis his purpose by af- flictions ; the memory of which makes a deep impression on the sufferer, and compels him to be wise : even this is acknowledged as the effect of divine grace. 'J his is the address of the Chorus to Jupiter, sober, manlv, rational, and a Ane prelude to the afflictions of Agamemnon next to be mentioned. Agamemnon. 159 Sv^ells the triumphal strain to Jove, Shall ever with success be crown'd. Yet often, when to wisdom's seat Jove deigns to guide man's erring feet, His virtues to improve ; He to affliction gives command To form him with her chast'ning hand : The memory of her rigid lore, On the sad heart imprinted deep, Attends him thro' day's active hour. Nor in the night forsakes his sleep. Instructed thus thy grace we own, O thou, that sit'st on Heav'n's high throne ! When now in Aulis' rolling bay* His course the refluent floods refus'd. And sick'ning with inaction lay In dead repose th' exhausted train, Did the firm chief of chance complain ? ' No prophet he accus'd ; His eyes towards Chalcis bent he stood, And silent mark'd the surging flood. Sullen the winds from Strymon sweep, Mischance and famine in the blast. Ceaseless torment the angry deep, The cordage rend, the vessels waste. With tedious and severe delay Wear the fr^sh flow'r of Greece away. ANTis. 2. When, in Diana's name, the seerf * The anger of Diana now shows itself, and the Grecian fleet is detained by adverse winds at Aulis; the consequence of this is briefly, but finely de- scribed J but even under this mortifying calamity the hero shev^s no impious discontent, accuses no god nor man ; but stands in a melancholy silence with his eyes fixed on an opposite island, and observmg the refluent flood. t In the midst of this distress, the prophet declared, that the anger of the Goddess would not be appeased, nor would the winds permit the fleet to sail 160 Agamemnori. PronouncM the dreadful remedy More than the stormy sea severe, Each chieftain stood in grief profound. And smote his sceptre on the ground : Then with a rising sigh The monarch, whilst the big tears roll, Express'd the anguish of his soul ; ^* Dreadful the sentence : not t' obey, '* Vengeance an J ruin close us round : " Shall then the sire his daughter slay, " In youth's fresh bloom with beauty crown'd ? '^ Shall on these hands her warm blood flow ? " Cruel alternative of woe I STRO. 3. " This royal fleet, this martial host, *' The cause of Greece, shall 1 betray, " The monarch in the father lost ? '* To calm these winds, to smooth this flood, " Diana's wrath a virgin's blood * " Demands : 'tis our's t' obey." •ut of the harbour, but bj the sacrifice of Iphigenia, the beautiful daughter of Agamemnon : the anguish of his soul, and the conflicting passions of the father and the king, are here pathetically described, till at length the king prevails. Utcunque fcrent ea facta nepotes, Vincit amor patriae, laudumque immensa cupido. ' * There is something horrid in the superstition of ancient paganism, which often impelled even the most religious persons to actions that were shocking to humanity, an'd at the Same time left them exposed to infamy and punish- ment, as if they had been voluntarily guihy. ] It was in the Fates, that CEdr- pus should kill his father, and marry his mother; by the very methods which he took to avoid the completion of this oracle, and those the wisest wliidi human providence could suggest, he was entangled in the fatal net; yet the anger of the Gods pursued him even to ruin, and the extermifnation of his family. I Orestes was commanded by Apollo to kill his mother, with threats of the severest vengeance should he presume to disobey ; but no sooner was the deed done, than he was pursued by the Furies, and haunted even to disti action. So here Agamemnon has this cruel alternative proposed to hiio. Agamemnon. l6l Bound in necessity's iron chain Reluctant nature strives in vain : Impure, unholy thoughts succeed, And darkening o'er his bosom roll ; Whilst madness prompts the ruthless deed, Tyrant of the misguided soul : Stern on the fleet he rolls his eyes, And dooms the hateful sacrifice. ANTis. 3. Arni'd in a woman's cause, around Fierce for the war the princes rose ; No place affrighted pity found. In vain the virgin's streaming tear, ' Her cries in vain, her pleading prayV, Her agonizing woes. Cou'd the fond father hearunmov'd ? The Fates decreed : the king approv'd : . Then to th' attendants gave command Decent her flowing robes to bind ; Prone on the altar with strong hand To place her, like a spotless hind ; And check her sweet voice, that no sound Unhallow'd might the rites confound. EPOD. Rent on the earth her maiden veil she throws*,^ either to appease the anger of Diana, and purchase a favourable wind by the blood of his daughter, or to see this great armament of united Greece, her heroes, and her glory, uaprofitably wasted at Auhs : yet even the Chorus here, though under the influence of the strongest rehgious impressions, instead of extolUng the hero for suffering the patriot passions to prevail over private affection, censure ■♦he deed, though acknowledged to be necessary, as auda- cious, mad, and unholy. But we shall see that the poet knew what he was about. * The behaviour of Iphigenia is described with inimitable beauty : there is an eloquence in her actions, in her eyes, in her attitude, beyond the power of words. As she had been admitted to her father's feasts, and accustomed to entertain him witli her songs, she presumed on his fondness, and throwing off her maiden veil, (as its colour signifies), stood in the act to speak to him j but Y l63 Agamemnon That emulates the rose 5 And on the sad attendants rollinsf » The trembling lustre of her dewy eyes, Their grief-impassioned souls controlling, That ennobled, modest grace, Which the mimic pencil tries In the imag'd form to trace, The breathing picture shows : And as, amidst his festal pleasures, Her father oft rejoic'd to hear Her voice in soft mellifluous measures Warble the sprightly-fancied air ; So now in act to speak the virgin stands : But when, the third libation paid. She heard her father's dread commands Injoining silence, she obey'd : And for her country's good, With patient, meek, submissive mind To her hard fate resigned, Pour'd out the rich stream of her blood. What since hath past I know not, nor relate * ; But never did the prophet speak in vain, Th' afflicted, anxious for his future fate, Looks forward, and with hope relieves his pain. But since th' inevitable ill will come, Much knowledge to much misery is allied ; hearing his voice commanding silence, she obeyed with meek submission. This is t'.ie painting of a great master. • The Chorus observes a judicious silence with regard to what ensued : we hope however again to introduce this unfortunate and amiable lady to the acquaintance of tiie EngUsli reader. The remaining part of the ode contains only a melancholy reflection, introduced with great propriety, as a gloomy presage of the catastropliC) even the concluding prayer for the welfare of Greece has the same turn. Agamemnon. l63 Why strive we then t* anticipate the doom, Which happiness and wisdom wish to hide ? ^ Yet let this careful, age-enfeebled band Breathe from our inmost soul one ardent vow, Now the sole guardians of this Apian land, " May fair success with glorj^bind her brow !** CLYTEMNESTRA, CHORUS. cuOR. With reverence, Clytemnestra, I approach Thy greatness ; honour due to her that fills The royal seat, yet vacant of its lord. If ought of glad import hath reach'd thy ear, Or to fair hope the victim bleeds *, I wish. But with submission to thy will, to hear. CLYT. The joy-importing morn springs, as they say, Fjfom night, her mother. Thou shalt hear a joy Beyond' thy hopes to hear : The town of Priam Is fall'n beneath the conquering arms of Greece. €HOR. What said'st thou ? Passing credence fled thy word. CLYT. In Troy Greece triumphs. Speak 1 clearly now? CHOR. Joy steals upon me, and calls forth the tear. CLYT. Thy glistening eye bespeaks an honest heart. CHOR. Does ought of certain proof confirm these tidings ? CLYT. It does : Why not? unless the Gods deceive us. CHOR. Perchance the visions of persuasive dreams. CLYT. Sport of the slumbering soul ; they move not me. CHOR. Hath then some winged rumour spread these transports ? CLYT. As a raw girl's, thou hold'st my judgment cheap. CHOR. How long hath ruin crushM this haughty city ? CLYT. This night, that gave this infant morning birth. * Oa hearing good tidings, even though the report was uncertain, it was usual to sacrifice to good hope, tvocyyiXotanv IX'rrlcny — STANi.Ey — and t« send a share of the victims to their friends.— See p. 12. 1. 13. 164 Agamemnon. CHOR. What speed cou'd be the herald of this news? CLYT. The fire, that from the height of Ida sent Its slreaniing light, as from th' announcing flame Torch blaz'd to torch. First Ida to the steep % Of Lemnos ; Athos' sacred height receiv'd The mighty splendor ; from the surging back Of th' Hellespont the vigVous blaze held on Its smiling way, and like the orient sun Illumes with golden- gleaming rays the head Of rocky Macetas ; nor lingers there, Nor winks unheedful, but its warning flames Darts to the streams of Euripus, and gives Its glitt'ring signal to the guards that hold Their high watch on Mesapius. These enkindle The joy-denouncing fires, that spread the blaze To where Erica hoar its shaggy brow Waves rudely. Unimpaired the active flame Bounds o'er the level of Asopus, like The jocund Moon, and on Cithaeron's steep Wakes a successive flame ; the distant watch Agnize its shine, and raise a brighter fire, That o'er the lake Gorgopis streaming holds its rapid course, and on'the mountainous heights Of iEgiplanctus huge, swift-shooting spreads The lengthen'd line of light. Thence onwards waves Its fiery tresses, eager to ascend The crags of Prone, frowning in their pride O'er the Saronic gulf : it leaps, it mounts The summit of Arachne, whose high head Looks down on Argos : to this royal seat Thence darts the light that from th' Idaean fire Derives its birth. Rightly in order thus Each to the ne^it consigns the torch, that fills The bright succession, whilst the first in speed Agamemnon. l65 Vies with the last : the promis'd signal this Giv'n by my lord t' announce the fall of Troy. CHOR. Anon my grateful praise shall rise to Heav*n : Now, lady, wou'd I willingly attend Thro* each glad circumstance the wondVous tale. CLYT. This day the fconquering Greeks are lords of Troy. Methinks 1 hear the various clamours rise Discordant through the city. Pour thou oil In the same vase and vinegar, in vain WouMst thou persuade th' unsocial streams to mix : The captives* and the conqueror's voice distinct, Marks of their different fortune, may'st thou hear : Those rolling on the bodies of the slain, rViends, husbands, brothers, fathers ; the weak arms Of children ^lasp*d around the bleeding limbs Of hoary age, lament their fall, their necks Bent to the yoke of slavery : Eager these From the fierce toils of war, who thro' the gloom Of night rang'd wide, fly on the spoils, as chance Not order, leads them ; in the Trojan houses, Won by their spears, they walk at large, relieved From the cold dews dropt from th' unshelter'd sky ; And at tlr approach of eve, like those whose pow'r Commands security, the easy night Shall sleep unguarded. If with hallow'd rites They venerate the Gods that o'er the city *, * It was observed in the preface to this tragedy, that the character of Cly- temnestra is that of an high-spirited, close, determined, dangerous woman; this character now begins to unfold itself. She had wiih deep premeditation planned the murder of her husband ; he was now returning ; her soul of course must at this time be full of her horrid design, and all her thoughts intent upon the execution of it : ive have in ^;he remaining part of this speech a strong proof of this ; she Is dark, sententious, and even religious; so the Chorus understands her words, and so she intends they should ; but the very expressions, by which she wishes to conceal, and do(/s coucea! her purpose 166 Agamemnon. With those that o'er the vanquish'd country rule. And reverence their shrines, the conquering troops Shall not be conquered. May no base desire, No guilty wish urge them, enthrall'd to gain, To break thro' sacred laws. Behoves them now, With safety in their train, backward to plough The refluent wave. Shou'd they return expos'd To th' anger of the Gods, vengeance wou'd wake To seize its prey, might they perchance escape Life's incidental ills. From me thou hearest A woman's sentiment ; and much i wish, Their glories by no rude mischance depress'd, To cull from many blessings the most precious, CHOR. With manly sentiment thy wisdom, lady, Speaks well. Confiding in thy suasive signs, Prepare we to address the Gods ; our strains Shall not without their meed of honour rise. PROS. Supreme of kings *, Jove ; and thou, friendly night, That wide o'er Heav'n's star-spangled plain H oldest thy awful reign, Thou, that with resistless might O'er Troy's proud tow'rs, and destin'd state. Hast thrown the secret net of fate. In whose enormous sweep the young, the old, Without distinction roll'd, jAre with unsparing fury dragg'd away To slavery and woe a prey : Thee, hospitable Jove, whose vengeful powV from the Argive senators, by being ambiguous, and comprehending a double meaning, so far mark tlie working of her mind, as to give us an hint of what is revolving there. * This ode, as the last, begins with a sublime and manly address to Jupiter, acknowledging his power, and the certainty of his judgments on the impious, though deferred for a season. Agamemnon. 167 / These terrors o'er the foe has spread. Thy bow long bent at Paris' head, "Whose arrows know their time to fly, Not hurtling aimless in the sky. Our pious strains adore. &TRO. 1, The hand of Jove will they not own * ; And, as his marks they trace, Confess he wilPd, and it was done ? Who now of earth-born race Shall dare contend that his high powV Deigns not with eye severe to view The wretch, that tramples on his law? Hence with this impious lore : Learn that the sons accurs'd shall rue The madly daring father's pride. That furious drew th' unrighteous sword. High in his hbuse the rich spoils stor'd, And the avenging Gods defied. But be it mine to draw From wisdom's fount, pure as it flows. That calm of soul, which virtue only knows. For vain the shield, that wealth shall spread. To guard the proud oppressor's head. Who dares the rites of J ustice to confound. And spurn her altars to the ground. ANTis. 1. But suasive is the voice of vice f, • These judgments had fallen in so conspicuous a manner en guilty Trojj tliat it was impossible not to see the immediate hand of the God, and to own that no might, no riches can protect the impious from his just vengeance. t Yet vice has its assuasive charms ; but the remedy is not entirely con- cealed, as the mischief glares through her disguise ; and as adulterate brass it discovered by a proper trial, so is it with the wicked, who punlties his wanton sports to the destruction of his country ; considermg the subject, the allu- sion to a boy pursuing a bird has a singnlar propriety and beauty ; here the great moral recurs agajij, that vice shall not be unpunished j and the whole 168 Agamemnon. That spreads tli' insidious snare : She, not conceal'd, thro* her disguise Emits a livid glare. Her vot'ry, like adulterate brass Unfaithful to its use, unsound. Proves the dark baseness of his soul ; Fond as a boy to chase The winged birdJight-flitling round, And bent on his pernicious play Draws desolation on his state. His vows no God regards, when Fate In vengeance sweeps the wretch away. With base intent and foul. Each hospitable law defied, From Sparta's king thus Paris stole his bride. To Greece she left the shield, the spear, The naval armament of war ; And, bold in ill, to Troy's devoted shore Destruction for her dow'ry bore. STRO. 2. When thro' the gates her easy way* is applied to Paris, who, in violation of the sacred rights of hospitality, bora away the wife of Menelaus. There are few passages in iEschylus more ob- scure than this antistrophe ; the translator has applied all his attention to it, but presumes not to say how far he has succeeded. The same critic, who before sent us to Aulis for a sparrow's nest, has here discovered the firebrand of Hecuba, the prophecy of Cassandra, and the improvident care of the Biotbiir to preserve her son : but this surely is all a dream. * We are now prepared for an account of the departure of Helena with Paris : the dismay of the Spartan seers, the affliction of the husband fixed in silent jg;rie.f on the picture ot his inconstant wife, then turning from it with a bursting sigh, and his dreams, that present her to his imagination in all her attractive charms, tlien vanish and leave him in de&j>air, are finely imaged ; so the grief,. wfcjch arose first in the house of Menelaus, and thence spread its gloom over all Greece, is well conceived, and tends to carry on the poet's general design, which was to represent the dreadful consequences of this fatal war. Agamemnon. 169 She took, his pensive breast Each prophet smote in deep dismay. And thus his grief exprest, *' What woes this royal mansion threat, " This mansion, and its miuhty lord ? " Where now the chaste connubial bed ? " The traces of her feet, " By love to her blest consort led, " Where now ? Ah, silent, see, she stands; " Each glowing tint, each radiant grace, " That charm th' enraptur'd eyef, we trace ; " And still the blooming form commands, " Stiil honour'd, still ador'd, " Tho' careless of her former loves " Far o'er the rolling sea the wanton roves : *' The husband, with a bursting sigh, " Turns from the pictur'd fair his eye ; " Whilst love, by absence fed, without control " Tumultuous rushes on his soul. ANTIS.2. " Oft as short slumbers close his eyes, ** Hk ead soul soothed to rest, " Th^dreatn-created visions rise, *' With aH her charms imprest : ' ' '' ' ' ' ' '^ But vam th ideal speuf^, that^mil^S . :" With rapt'rous bvie aod waria deliglit ; VaiH his fond hopes r his eager 'trms '* The fleetiiig fofrti lieguiles, " On sleep's (juick pinjons passing light.'' Such griefs, and .more severe than these, Their sad gloom o'er the palace spreiad ; ; Thence stretch their liielandholy shaded And darken o'er the realms of|Xjrr;^ece, Struck with no false aWms; ;, V 170 Aoamemrion. • Each house its home-felt sorrow Knows *, Each bleedhig heart is pierc'd with keenest woes; When for the hero, sent to share The glories of the crimson war. Nought, save his arms stain'd with their master's gore, And his cold ashes reach the shore. STRO. 3. Thus in the dire exchange of war D6es Mars the balance hold ; Helms are the scales, the beam a spear, And blood is weigh'd for gold. Thus, for the warrior, to his friends His sad remains, a poor return, Sav'd from the sullen fire that rose On Troy's curst shore, he sends, Plac'd decent in the mournful urn. With many a tear their dead they weep, / • Paris had beeji guiltj of the most atrocious act of injustice to Menelaus ; all Greece had united to revenge the alFront, and had chosen Agamemnon as the commander in chief of this miglity annanient ; he had carried on a great and dangerous war for ten years ; vv^s brave, wise, ahd justj had subvened the empire of Priam, and raised the military fame of hiS touhtry to the highest glory; was now returning crowned with conquest, and enriched with spoils, the most illustrious of portal men : might we not then expect that his faithful senators, who loved and honoured him, should have celebrated the victories of their king, and welconied his return to Argos with pajans of joy ? Instead of this, they dwell on th4 ^miseries of- the-'war^ the' unhappiness of families which, instead of their loKd«jx,h^d^re,ceive4 back only their arj^s stained with their blood, or urns containing their ^hes, tl^c myrmurs of the people, and the severe retaliation demanded for blood, even though shed in a just war : in short, all their ideas,'and even their moral rellectionsy are gloomy and of ill presage. But the gi^at -poet knew what 'he was about ; the character of the Chorus was sacred, their claiim of intpirapdn had rendered it prophetic, they were not therefore to be dazzled >yith t^eyaijj splendor of triumphs immedi- ately before them ; but their minds were carried forward to future events, and there every presage was darfc ana m^faildholy j andll)^" this judicious conduct we are further prepared for the/ ctttScWoifihy. • •' " '" ■ " Agamemnon. 171 Their names with many a praise resound ; One for his skill in arms renown'd ; One, that amidst the slaughtered heap Of fierce-conflicting foes Glorious in beauty's cause he fell : Yet gainst th' avenging chiefs their murmurs swell In silence. Some in youth's fresh bloom Beneath Troy's tow'rs possess a tomb ; Their bodies buried on the distant strand. Seizing in death the hostile land. ANTis. 3. How dreadful, when the people raise Loud murmurs mix'd with hate ! Yet this the tribute greatness pays For its exalted state. E'en now some dark and horrid deed By my presaging soul is fear'd ; For never with unheedful eyes, When slaughter'd thousands^ bleed. Did the just power's of Heav'n regard The carnage of th' ensanguin'd plain. The ruthless and oppressive pow'r May triumph for its little hour ; Full soon with all their vengeful train The sullen Furies rise, Break his fell force, and whirl him down Thro' life's dark path, unpitied, and unknown. And dangerous is the pride of fame, - Like the red light'nings dazzling flame. Nor envied wealth, nor conquest let me gain. Nor drag the conqueror's hateful chain. EPOD. But from these fires far streaming thro' the night Fame thro' the town her progress takes. And rapt'rous joy awakes ; Jf with truth's auspicious light 172 Agamemnon. Thev shine, who knows ? Her sacred reio^n Nor fraud, nor falsehood dares profaoe. But who, in wisdom's school so lightly taught. Suffers his ardent thought From these informing flames to catch the fire. Full soon perchance in grief t' expire ? Yet when a woman holds the sovereign sway, Obsequious wisdom learns to bow. And hails the joy it does not know; Tho', as the glilt'ring visions roll Before her easy, credulous soul, Their glories fade away. CLYT. Whether these fires, that with successive signals Blaze thro' the night, be true, or like a dream Play with a sweet delusion on the soul, Soon shall we know. An herald from the shore 1 see ; branches of olive shade his brows. That cloud of dust, rais'd by his speed, assures me That neither speechless, nor enkindling flames Along the mountains, will he signify His message ; but his tongue shall greet our ears With words of joy : far from my soul the thought Of other, than confirm these favVing signals. CHOR. May he, that to this state shall form a wish Of other aim, on his own head receive it. CLYTEMNESTRA, CHORUS, HERALD. HER. Hail, thou paternal soil of Argive earth ! In the fair light of the tenth year to thee Return'd, from the sad wreck of many hopes This one 1 save ; sav'd from despair e*en this ; For never thought I in this honour'd earth To share in death the portion of a tomb. Hail then, lov'd earth j hail, thou bright sun ; and thouj^ Agamemnon. 173 Great guardian of my country, supreme Jove ; Thou, Pythian king, thy shafts no longer wing'd For our destruction * ; on Scaniander's banks Enough we mourn d thy wrath ; propitious now Come, king Apollo, our defence. And all Ye Gods, that oer the works of war preside, I now invoke ; thee, Mercury +, my avenger, "Rever'd by heralds, that from thee derive Their high employ; you heroes J, to the war That sent us, friendly now receive our troops. The rehcs of the spear. Imperial walls, Mansion of kings, ye seats rever'd ; ye Gods, That to the golden sun before these gates Present your honour'd forms ; if e'er of old Those eyes with favour have beheld the king, Keceive him now, after this length of time, ^ * This alludes to the pestilence In the Grecian camp, by Homer, ascribed to Apollo as a punishment for the affront offered to his priest Ch^yses : Thus Chryses pray'd: the fav'ring pow'r attends. And from Olympus' lofty tops descends. Bent was his bow the Grecian hearts to wound ; Fierce as he mov'd, his silver shafts resound. Breathing revenge a sudden night he spread. And gloomy darkness roITd around his head. The fleet in view he twang'd his deadly bow. And hissing fly the fealher'd fates below, &c.— Pope. t Mercury, as the messenger of the Gods, was esteemed the patroo of heralds, whose character theretore was always held sacred. J The Grecians, in their solemn iavocdtDus of the Gods, paid this reverence to the names of their hemes, supposing them still to be the protectors of their country. Thus Xenophon represents Cyus, when marching into the terri- tories of the enemy, before he pa sed the hne of division, to have sacrificed to Jupiter, and the other Gods, and, at the same time, to have invoked the heroes, the dwellers and guardians of Media; and after he had passed, to have again sacrificed to the Gods, and propitiated the l^eroes guardians of Assyria.— Xen. Cyit, IT^ Agamemnon. With glory ; for he comes, and with him brings To you, and all, a light that cheers this gloom : Then greet him well ; such honour 4s his meed, The mighty king, that with the mace of Jove Th' avenger, wherewith he subdues the earth, Hath levell'd with the dust the tow'rs of Troy ; Their altars are o'erturn'd, their sacred shrines, And all the race destroyed. This iron yoke Fix'd on the neck of Troy, victorious comes The great Atrides, of all mortal men Worthy of highest honours. Paris now, And the perfidious state, shall boast no more His proud deeds nnreveng'd: stript of his spoils. The debt of justice for his thefts, his rapines. Paid amply, o'er his father's house he spreads With twofold loss the wide-involving ruin *. CLYT. Joy to thee, herald of the Argive hostf. * He not onl^f lost Helena, whom he had carried awaj, and th^ treasures brought with her, but had involved his country in ruin. t Mr. Heath attributes to the Chorus the part here assigned to Clytem- nestra. He thinks it unbecoming the dignity of the queen, and that the Herald answers too familiarly : this mistake led him into many others. The Herald's message was directly to the queen ; and as he bore a sacred cha- racter, her dignity did not suffer by^the conference ; neither is there any thing of disrespectful familiarity on his part : ancient manners permitted npt the Chorus to interrupt the queen. The fifth line of p. 48 is an evasive answer : this artful woman wished to appear to the Herald, and by him to be represented as having suffered much during her husband's absence ; being asked, By whom ? She replies with an affective caution, That silence had been h^r best remedy. What seems to have misled this learned critic, was liis opinion that the Chorus hinted ^t the infamous commerce between Clytem- nestra and ^gislheus ; but the words on which he first founds his opinion, V. ."i.^yj of the original, have a very different meaning: the herald says, You desire to see those, who have as great a desire to see this country ; she answers Such, that I'ofl* have breath'd the secret sigh. Mr. Pleath derives auoUier proof from the word xXi/ovraj, v. 589, which j^gamemnon. 175 HER. For joy like this, death were a cheap exchange. CLYT. Strong thy affection to thy native soil. HER. So strong, the tear of joy starts from ray eye. CLYT. What, hath this sweet infection reach'd e'en you ? HER. Beyond the pow'r of language have 1 felt it. CLYT. The fond desire of those, whose equal love — HER. This of the army say'st thou, whose warm love Streams to this laud ? Is this thy fond desire r CLYT. Such, that I oft' have breathed the secret sigh. HER. Whence did the array cause this anxious sadness ? . CLYT. Silence 1 long have held an healing balm. HER. The princes absent, had'st thou whom to fear ? CLYT. To use thy words, death were a wish'd exchange. HER. Well is the conflict ended. In the tide Of so long time, if "midst the easy flow Of wish'd events some tyrannous blast assail us, What mLrvel f Who, save the blest Gods, can claim Thro' life's whole course an unmix'd happiness ? Shou'd I relate our toils, our wretched plight being masculine and plural, shows that the Herald had been addressing not Clytemnestra, but the Chorus : it rather shows, that this part of his discourse had been addressed both to Clytemnestra and the Chorus ; had he spoke to the Chorus only, he- would have used the singulai" number, as he does twice afterwards, when the queen had left ihem, E>ci;^o-a?, o^rs To^QTvjj an^og., aKoirov . —^-v . 637. Toa'cx.x^T (XKciKTU';, i'j-S'i Ta\)^v,« JcAiJwv.— v. 689.. 3Vor is his critique on viXW|otsyo?j translated " T am con vinced/'^yifer founded; for this is a modest apology for their distrust of Clytemnci«k'iJii6VVi,t?xpre»bcd in the last cpode ; to which she replies sarcastically, p. 51. 1. 7. Mv. Heath finishes, by interpreting the 4th and ;Sth lines of p. 53, as il" tlie Ulioius insi- nuated that Cly'tcmnestra hart spoke with artful dissimulation what she wished the Herald should relate to the king ; and thereby 'iiVnted'a't lier infidelity . but the words of the original arc clear and express, alid incapaolc (>rdiImiT.ting any other sense than what the translation presents. Indeed' iiothing could be more unhappily conceived than the opinion of these intimations from the Chorui, as it is repugnant to the whole ^)lkn and conduct^of the play. 176 Agamemnon. Wedg'd in our narrow i|l-provided cabins. Each irksome hour was loaded with fatigues. Yet these were slight assays to those worse hardships We suffered on the shore : our lodging hear The walls of the enemy, the dews of Heav'n Fell on us from above, the damps beneath From the moist marsh annoy 'd us, shrouded ill In shaggy cov'rings *. Or shou'd one relate The winter's keen blasts, which from Ida^s snows Breathe frore, that pierc'd thro' all their plumes the birds IShiver and die ; or ih' extreme heat that scalds, When in his mid-day caves the sea reclines, , And not a breeze disturbs his calm repose. But vvhy lament these sufferings ? They are past; Past to the dead indeed ; they lie^ no more Anxious to rise. What then avails to count Those, whom the wasteful war hath swept away. And with their loss afflict the living ? Rather Bid we farewel to misery : in our scale. Who haply of the Grecian host remain, The good preponderates, and in counterpoise Our loss is light ; and, after all our toils By sea and land, before yon golden sun It is our glorious privilege to boast, "At length from vartquish'd Troy our warlike troops " Have to the Gods'of Greece brought home these spoils, " Aiigl in their Temples, to record our conquests, " Fix'id these proud trophies." Those, that hear this boast, * If the./ eader is not satisfied with Pauw's interpretation of this passage, nor with, the translator's, Mr. Heath is at hand, who renders it thus," The " dews wet us, the, certain destruction of our garments, making our hair like " the shag of v\;ild beasts." One would imagine that this learned person had Nebuchadnezzar m his thoughts, but that the hairs of the Assyrian monarch were grown like eagles' feathers. If by tv^ripov T^lxcc we understaad tbc shaggy coverings of the tents, we sliall /ind it a good military idea. Agamemnon. 177 It well becomes to gratulate the state, And the brave chiefs ; revering Jove's high pow'r That grac'dour conquering arms. Thou hast my message. CHOR. Thy words convince me ; all my doubts are vanish'd : But scrupulous inquiry grows with age. On Clytemnestra and her house this charge, Blessing e*en me with the rich joy, devolves. CLYT. Long since my voice rais'd high each note of joy, When thro' the night the streaming blaze first came, And told us Troy was taken : Not unblam'd That, as a woman lightly credulous, I let a mountain fire transport my soul With the fond hope that Ilion's haughty tow Vs Were humbled in the dust. At this rebuke Tho' somewhat shaken, yet I sacrific'd ; And, as weak women wont, one voice of joy Awoke another, till the city rang Thro' all its streets ; and at the hallow'd shrines Each rais'd the pious strains of gratitude. And fann'd the altars' incense-breathing flame. But it is needless to detain thee longer. Soon from the king's own lips shall I learn all. How best 1 may receive my honour'd lord. And grace his wish'd return, now claims my speed. Can Heav'n's fair beam shew a fond wife a sight More grateful than her husband from his wars Return'd with glory, when she opes the gate. And springs to welcome him ? Tell my lord this. That Me may hasten his desir'd return : And tell him he will find his faithful wife. Such as he left her, a domestic creature To him all fondness, to his enemies Irreconcileable ; and tell him too That ten long years have not effac'd the seal £ A 178 Agamemnon. Of Constancy ; that never knew 1 pleasure In the blamed converse of another man, More than the virgin metal m the mine^* Knows an adulterate and debasing mixture. ' HER. This high boast, lady, sanctified by truth, Is not unseemly in thy princely rank. HERALD, CHORUS. CHOR, This, for thy information, hath she spoken With dignity and truth. Now tell me, herald, Of Sparta's king wish I to question thee, The pride of Greece : returns he safe with you r HER. Never can I esteem a falsehood honest, Tho' my friends long enjoy the sweet delusion. CHOR* What then if ihou relate an honest truth ? From this distinction the cosijecture's easy. HER. Him from the Grecian fleet our eyes have lost, The hero and his ship. This is the truth. CHOR. Chanc'd this, when in your sight he weigh'd from Troy ; Or in a storm, that rent him from the fleet ? HER. Rightly is thy conjecture aim'd, in brief Touching the -long recital of our loss. CHOR. How deem'd the other mariners of this ; That the ship perish'd, or rode out the storm r HER. Who, ^ve yon' sun the regent of the earth, Can give a clear and certain information? * Of this passage Pauw honestly says, illiquid subest quod ego non iutel- ligo. Mr. Heath disapproves the allusion, though he thinks it a proverbial expression, the grace of which is lost upon our ignorance, and says, quod nos non videmus aliys forsan olim videbit. In the mean time, ,the translator had only one part to take, which was to supply what he thought the expression wanted to render it intelligible ; a part, uhich all the interpreiersof iEschylus must take, reduils souvent a deviner, on ies voit hesiter, et chercher a. reudre le sens quaud ils ne peuveat se former une idee exacte des raots. Agamemnon. 179 CHOR. How said'st thou (hen a storm, not without loss, Wmg'd with HeavVs fury, tost the shattered fleet. HER» It is not meet, with inauspicious tongue * Spreading ill tidings, to profane a day Sacred to festal joy f the Gods require Their pure rites undisturbed. When with a brow Witness of woe, the messenger relates Unwelcome news, defeats, and slaughtered armies, The wound with general grief affects the state ; *And with particular and private sorrow Full many an house, for many that have fall'n Victims to Mars, who to his bloody car Delights to yoke his terrors, sword and spear. A paean to the Furies wou'd become The bearer of such pond'rous heap of ills. My tidings are of conquest and success Diffusing joy : with these glad sounds how mix Distress, and speak of storms, and angry Gods ? — The powVs, before most hostile, now conspired, Fire and the sea, in ruin reconcil'd : And in a night of tempest \yiid from Thrace In all their fury rush'd the howling winds ; Tost by the forceful blasts ship against ship In hideous conflict dash'd, or disappeared, Driv'n at the boist'rous whirlwind's dreadful will. But when the sun's fair light return'd, we see Bodies of Grecians, and the wreck of ships Float on the chaf 'd foam of th' .^gean sea. U*> and our ship some God, the pow'r of man * Ancieni superstition required that the festal days,instTtated to the honou? of the Gods for any success, should not be contaminated with any inau- spicious word, much less with the relation of any unfortunate event : ^Eschy- lus here assigns the reason : hence the Eu^r/xETv of the Greeks, and the favere Unguis of the Latins.— Stanley, 180 Agamemnon. Were all too weak, holding the helm preserved Unhurt, or interceding for our safety ; ,/And Fortune the deliverer steer'd our course To shun the waves, that near the harbour's mouth Boil high, or break upon the rocky shore. Escap'd th' ingulfing sea, yet scarce secure Of our escape, thro' the fair day we view With sighs the recent sufferings of the host, Cov'ring the sea with wrecks. If any breathe This vital air, they deem us lost*, as we Think the same ruin theirs. Fair fall th' event ! But first and chief expect the Spartan king T' arrive ; if yet one ray of yon' bright sun * Pauw censures the poet here as inconsistent, the Herald having before declared it improper to profane a day sacred to festal joy with ill tidings: Mr. Heath defends him, by saying the tidings are rather of good than of ill : but this is directly contrary to the Herald's words, who speaks of tempests, wrecks, bodies floating on the waves, and the anger of the Gods, as ills ; and such to common understandings they must appear : indeed he seems appre- hensive of this, yet thinks them very proper, as these unfortunate circum- stances give a presage of the impending death of Agamemnon; at the same time they give it an air of probability, by rendering the king more obnoxious to the treacheries of Clytemnestra, as being returned with one single ship, without his friends and the army. Thus Mr. Heath ; but it appears by the barbarous boast of Clytemnestra, after she had perpetrated the horrid deed, that she had planned it in such a manner, at such a time, and in such a place, that the execution of it could not be prevented. The poet had a deeper design : though the dramatic unities had not their name in his time, yet they owe their existence to him, and he was as sensible, as any of his critics can be, of the impropriety of raakiiig Agamemnon appear at Argos the day after Troy was taken ; yet his plan required this, and it is so finely executed, that he must be a critic minorum gentium who objects to it. The whole narra- tion of the Herald is calculated to soften this impropriety; a tempest sepa- rates the royal ship from the fleet, some God preserves it, and Fortune, tiie deliverer, guides it into the harbour ; every thing is as rapid and impetuous as the genius of .^schylus, and the expression is so carefully guarded, that nd hint is given of the vessel's being at sea more than one night : there are some subsequent expressions of the same tendency. Agamemnon. 181 Beholds him living, thro' the care of Jove, Who wills not to destroy that royal race. Well may we hope to joy in his return. Having heard this, know thou hast heard the truth. CHORUS. STRO. 1. Is there to names a charm profound * Expressive of their fates assigned. Mysterious potency of sound, And truth in wond'rous accord join'd ? Why else this fatal name, That Helen and destruction are the same -j^ ? Affianc'd in contention, led. The spear her dowVy, to the bridal bed; With desolation in her train, Fatal to martial hosts, to rampir'd tow'rs. From the rich fragrance of her gorgeous bowVs, Descending to the main. She hastes to spread her flying sails. And calls the earth-born zephyr's gales. Whilst heroes, breathing vengeance, snatch their shields. And trace her light oars o'er the pathless waves, * The general design of this beautiful ode is so clear, thav it wants no elu- cidation : the sober and religious moral, that breathes through the richest de- scription and most vivid colouring, gives it the highest grace and the utmost perfectien to which poetry can aspire. t This is one of those passages where un tour vaut une pens^e, et en est ve- ritablement une : this grace, such as it is, vanishes the moment you attempt to transfuse it into another language. Helena, in allusion to her name, is here called Helenas, Helandros, He- leptulis, the destroyer of ships, the destroyer of men, the destroyer ef cities : a translator in such a case can only catch the general idea, if he letains the particular one, the fallen star becomes only a cold jelly : happily he had here an opportunity of availing himself of the general superstition of the an- cients with regard to names; the philosophy of which opinion no Pythagorean nor Stoic, though both schools devoutly taught it, explained with better argu- ment than the father of Tristram Shandy. 182 ^ Agamemnon. To the thick shades fresh waving o'er those fields. Which Simois with his silver windings laves. ANTis. l.To Troy the shining mischief came, Before her young-ey'd pl^sures play ; But in the rear with stedfast aim Grim visag'd vengeance marks his prey, Waiting the dreadful hour The terrors of offended Heav'n to pour ' On those that dar'd, an impious train, The rights of hospitable Jove profane ; Nor rever'd that sacred song, W' hose melting strains the bride's approach declare. As Hymen wakes the rapture-breathing air. Far other notes belong, The voice of mirth now heard no more, To Priam s state: its ruins o'er Wailing instead, distress, and loud lament; Long sorrows sprung from that unholy bed, And many a curse in heart-felt anguish sent On its woe-wedded Paris' hated head. STRO. 2. The woodman, from his thirsty lair, Reft of his dam, a lion bore ; Fof>;ter'd his future foe with care To mischiefs he must soon deplore : Gentle and tame, whilst young, Harmless he frisk'd the fondling babes among j Oft' in the father's bosom lay. Oft' lick'd his feeding hand in fawning play ; Till, conscious of his firmer age. His lion-race the lordly savage shows ; No more his youth-protecting cottage knows, ^ But wiih insatiate rage Flies on the flocks, a baleful guest. And riots in th' unbidden feast : Agamemnon. 183 o Whilst thro' his mangled folds the hapless swain With horror sees th* unbounded carnage spread; And learns too late from th' infernal reign A priest of Ate in his house was bred. AisTis. 2. To I lion's tow'rs in wanton state With speed she wings her easy way; Soft gales obedient round her wait, And pant on the delighted sea. Attendant on her side The richest ornaments of splendid pride : The darts, whose golden points inspire. Shot from her eyes, the flames of soft desire ; The youthful bloom of rosy love, That fills with extasy the willing soul ; With duteous zeal obey her sweet control. But, such the doom of Jove, Vindictive round her nuptial bed, .With threat'ning mein and footstep dread. Rushes, to Priam and his state severe, To rend the bleeding heart his stern delight, And from the bridal eye to force the tear, Erinnys, rising from the realms of night. EPOD. From ev'ry mouth we otV have heard This saying, for its age rever'd ; " With joy we see our offspring rise, " And happy, who not childless dies : " But fortune, when her flow'rets blow, « Oft' bears the bitter fruit of >\'oe." Tho' these saws are as truths allow'd. Thus 1 dare differ from the croud, " Ojie base deed, with prolific pow'r, '^ Like its curst stock engenders more : *' But to the just, with blooming gracp " Still flourishes, a beauteous race." 184 Agamemnon. The old injustice joys to breed Her young, instinct with. villainous deed ; The young her destin'd hour will find To rush in mischief on mankind : She too in Ate's murky cell, Brings forth the hideous child of hell, A burden to th' offended sky, The pow'r of bold impiety. But Justice bids her ray divine E'en on the low- roof 'd cottage shine ; And beams her glories on the life. That knows not fraud, nor ruffian strife. The gorgeous glare of gold, obtained By foul polluted hands, disdained She leaves, and with averted eyes To humbler, holier mansions flies ; And looking thro' the times to come Assigns each deed its righteous doom, CHORUS, AGAMEMNON. CHOR. My royal] ord, by whose victorious hand The tow'rs of Troy are falfn, illustrious son Of Atreus, with what words, what reverence Shall 1 address thee, not t* o'erleap the bounds Of modest duty, nor to sink beneath An honourable welcome ? Some there are, That form themselves to seem, more than to be. Transgressing honesty : to him that feels Misfortune's rugg'd hand, full many a tongue Shall drop condolence, tho' th' unfeeling heart Knows not the touch of sorrow ; these again In fortune's summer gale with the like art Shall dress in forc'd smiles th' unwilling face : Agamemnon. 18^ But him the penetrating eye soon marks, That iu the seemly garb of honest zeal Attempts to clothe his meager blandishments. When first in Helen's cause my royal lord Levied his host, let me not hide the truth. Notes, other than of music, echoed wide In loud complaints from such as deem'd him rash. And void of reason, by constramt to plant In breasts averse the martial soul, that glows Despising death. But now their eager zeal Streams friendly to those chiefs, whose prosp'rous valour Is crown'd with conquest. Soon then shalt thou learn. As each supports the state, or strives to rend it With faction, who reveres thy dignity. AG AM. To Argos first, and to my country Gods*, I bow with reverence, by whose holy guidance On Troy's proud tovvVs I pour'd their righteous vengeance, And now revisit safe my native soil. Ko loud-tongued pleader heard, they judg'd the cause, And in the bloody urn f , without one vote Dissentient, cast the lots that fix*d the fate Of llion and its sons : the other vase Left empty, ^ave of widow'd hope. The smoke. Rolling in dusky wreaths, shows that the town * Nothing shows the good sense and fine taste of tlie Athenians more, than their regard to religious sentiments, even in their pubhc spectacles. Tragedy was not yet allowed to lose sight of reverence to the Gods, the love of liberty, and affection to their country, principles the most necessary to be inculcated en the people. Agamemnon could not return the gratulations of his faithful senators, till he had addressed his paternal land, and its Gods, who had led him to this war, and brought him back la safety. Such sentiments would reflect honour oa more enlightened ages. t The English reader will find the whole process of the ancient courts of judicature, the loud-tongued pleaders, and the urns or vases of acquittal or condemnation, in the Furies : the vase, into which the shells of conderanatioa are put, is here finely called '* the bloody urn, oil(Ji.9tTi>ifO» Tsuxof.** 2b 186 Agamemnon. Is falfn ; the fiery storm yet lives, and high The dying ashes toss rich clouds of wealth Consum'd. For this behoves us to the Gods Render our grateful thanks, and that they spread / The net of fate sweeping with angry ruin. In beauty's cause the Argive monster rear'd* Its bulk enormous, to th' affrighted town Portending devastation ; in its womb Hiding embattled hosts, rush'd furious forth, About the setting of the Pleiades, And, as a lion rav'ning for its prey, Ramp'd o'er their walls, and lapp'd the blood of kings. This to the Gods address'd, 1 turn me now Attentive to thy caution : I approve Thy just remark, and with my voice confirm it. Few have the fortitude of soul to honour A friend's success, without a touch of envy ; For that malignant passion to the heart Cleaves close, and with a double burden loads The man infected with it : first he feels In all their weight his ow^n calamities, Then sighs to see the happiness of x>thers. * Virgil knew how to make a 6ne use of this noble Imagery, Scandit fatalis mdchina rauros Fceta armis. — Ilia subit, mediaeque minans illabltur urbi.— quater ipso in limite porlae Substitlt, atque uiero sonitum quater arma dederc. Instamus tamen immemores, cacique furore, Et monstrura infelix sacrata sistimus arcc. We have nothing in our language more greatly conceived, or more finely ex- pressed, than the first part of the Ode to Fear by Mr. Collins ; it is in the ge- nuine spirit of iEschylus j the last line is manifestly taken from hence, On whom that raveuinp; brood of fate, TVhu Ian the blood of sorrow, wait. Agamemnon. 187 This of my own experience have I learn'd ; And this I know, that many, who in public Have born the semblance of my finnest friends, Are but the flatt'ring image of a shadow Reflected from a mirror : Save Ulysses, Alone, who, tho* averse to join our arms, Yok'd in his martial harness from my side Swerv'd not ; living or dead be this his praise. But what concerns our kingdom and the Gods, Holding a general council of the state. We will consult ; that what is well may keep Its goodness permanent, and what requires Our healing hand, with mild severity May be corrected. But my royal roof Now will 1 visit, and before its hearths Offer libations to the gods, "who sent me To this far distant war, and led me back. Firm stands the victory that attends our arms. CLYTEMNESTRA, AGAMEMNON, CHORUS. CLYT. Friends, fellow-citizens, whose counsels guide * The state of Argos, in your reverend presence * According to the simplicity of ancient manners, Cljtemnestra should have wailed to receive her husband in the house ; but her affected fondness led her to disregard decorum. Nothing can be conceived more artful than her speech ; but that very art shews, that her heart had little share in it: her pretended sufferings during his absence are touched with great delicacy and tenderness ; but had they been real, she would not have stopped him here with the querulous recital : the joy for his return, had she felt that joy, would have broke out first ;, this is deferred to the latter part of her address; there indeed she has amassed every image expressive of welcome ; but her solicitude to assemble these leads her beyond nature, which expresses her strongest passions in broken sentences, and with a nervous brevity, not with the cold formality of a set harangue. Her last words are another instance of the double sense which expresses reverence to her husband, but intends the bloody design with which her soul was agitaied. 188 Agamemnon. A wife's fond love I blush not to disclose : Thus habit softens dread. From my full heart Will 1 recount my melancholy life Thro' the long stay of ray lov'd lord at Troy : For a weak w^oman, in her husband's absence. Pensive to sit and lonely in her house, 'Tis dismal, list'ning to each frightful tale : First one alarms her, then another comes Charged with worse tidings. Had my poor lord here SufFer'd as many wounds as common fame Reported, like a net he had been pierc'd : Had he been slain oft' as the loud-tongued rumour Was nois'd abroad, this triple-form'd Geryon *, A second of the name, whilst yet aiive, For of the dead I speak not, well might boast To have receiv'd his triple mail, to die In each form singly. Such reports oppress'd me. Till life became distasteful, and my hands Were prompted oft' to deeds of desperation. Nor is thy son Orestes, the dea/r tie That binds us each to th' other, present here To aid me, as he ought : nay, marvel not, The friendly Strophius with a right strong arm Protects him in Fhocaea ; whilst his care * Geryoxi was a king of Spain, killed by Hercules, fabled to have three bodies, because he had three armies commanded by his three sons. Clytem- nestra compares her husband to this giant, and says, that if he had be'^n slain as often as was reported, this second triple Geryon (meaning Agamemnon under that name, for it were ominous to speak of the dead) might well boast to have received his triple vest, meaning his three bodies, and to have died once in each form. Mr. Heath might never have heard that Geryon, th tugh he had three bodies, died more than once ; nor does Pauw say it ; but this dots not hinder Clytemnestra from making the supposition, and nothing more is intended j the words of iEschylus are express, Agamemnon, 189 Saw danger threat me in a double form, The loss of thee at Troy, the anarchy That might ensue, shou'd madness drive the people To deeds of violence, as men are prompt Insultingly to trample on the falFn : Such care dwells not with fraud. At thy return The gushing fountains -of my tears are dried, Save that my eyes are weak with midnight watchings, Straining, thro' tears, if haply they might see Thy signal fires, that claimed my fix'd attention. If they were clos'd in sleep, a silly jfly Wou*d, with its slitghest murmVings, make me start. And wake me to more fears. For thy dear sake All this I suffered : but my jocund heart Forgets it all, whilst 1 behold my lord, My guardian, the strong anchor of my hope, The stately column that supports my house. Dear as an only child to a fond parent ; Welcome as land, which the tost mariner Beyond his hope descries ; welcome as day After a night of storms with fairer beams Returning ; welcome as the liquid lapse Of fountain to the thiirsty traveller : So pleasant is it to escape the chain Of hard constraint. Such greeting I esteem Due to thy honour ; let it not offend. For 1 have suffer'd miich. But, my lov'd lord, Leave now that car ; nor on the bare ground set That royal foot, beneath whose mighty tread Troy trembled. Haste, ye virgins, to whose care This pleasing office is entrusted, spread The streets with tapestry ; let the ground be cover'cj With richest purple, leading to the palace; That honour with just state may grace his entry. 190 Agamemnon. Tho' unexpected. My attentive care, Shall, if the Gods permit, dispose the rest To welcome his high glories, as I ought. AG AM. Daughter of Leda, guardian of my house *, Thy words are correspondent to my absence, Of no small length. With better grace my praise Wou'd come from others : Sooth me not with strains Of adulation, as a girl ; nor raise. As to some proud barbaric king, that loves Loud acclamations echoed from the mouths Of prostrate worshippers, a clamorous welcome : Nor spread the streets with tapestry ; 'tis invidious ; These are the honours we should pay the Gods. For mortal man to tread on orrfaments Of rich erabroid'ry No : I dare not do it : Respect me as a man, n^t as a God. Why should my foot pollute these vests, that glow With various tinetur'd radiance ? My full fame Swells higii without it ; and the temperate rule Of cool discretion in the choicest gift Of fav'ring Heav'n. Happy the man, whose life Is spent in friendship's calm security. These sober joys be mine, I ask no more. CLYT. Do not thou thwart the purpose of my mind. A GAM. My mind, be well assur'd, shall not be tainted. CLYT. Hast thou in fear made to the Gods this vow ? AG AM. Free, from my soul in prudence have 1 said it. • Agamemnon appears here in the most amiable liglit ; he knows bis dig« nity, and is not insensible to the fame which attends him as the conqueror of Asia J but by reproving the excessive adulation of Clyteranestra, he shows \ that manlj firmness of mind, that becoming moderation, which distinguishe* the sober state of the king of Argos from the barbaric pride of an Asiatic ' monarch. The part, which he has to act, is short, but it gives us a picture of the highest military glory, and of true regal virtue, and shows us that as a. man he was modest, gentle, and humane. Agamemnon. 191 CLYT. Had Priam's arms prevail'd, how had he acted? AG AM. On rich embroid'ry he had proudly trod. CLYT. Then dread not thou th' invidious tongues of men. AGAM. Yet has the popular voice much potency. CLYT. But the unenvied is not of the happy. , AGAM. Ill suits it thy soft sex to love conteifton. CLYT. To yield sometimes adds honour to the mighty. AGAM. Art thou so earnest to obtain thy wish ? CLYT. Let me prevail: indulge me with this conquest. AGAM. If such thy will, haste some one, from my feet Unloose these high-bound buskins, let some God Look down indignant, if with them I press These vests sea-tinciur'd : Shame it were to spoil With unclean tread their rich and costly texture. Of these enough. — This stranger, let her find A gentle treatment : from high HeavVthe God Looks with an eye of favour on the victor That bears his high state meekly ; for none wears Of his free choice the yoke of slavery. And she, of many treasures the prime flow'r Selected by the troops, has followed me' Well, since I yield kne vanquish'd by thy voice, I go, treading on purple, to my house. CLYT. Does not the sea, and who shall drain it, yield Unfailing stores of these rich tints, that glow W ith purple radiance ? These this lordly house Commands, blest with abundance, but to want A stranger. I had vow'd his foot shou'd tread "^ On many a vestment, when ihe victims bled, The hallow'd pledge which this fond breast devis'd For his return. For whilst the vig'rous root Maintahis its grasp, the stately head shall rise, And with its waving foliage screen the house 192 Agamemnon. From the fierce dog-star*s fiery pestilence. And on thy presence at thy houshold hearth, E'en the cold winter feels a genial warmth. But when the hot sun in the unripe grape* Matures the wine, the husband's perfect virtues Spread a refreshing coolness. Thou, O Jove, Source of perfection, perfect all my vows. And with thy influence favour my intents ! * This passage is difficult. The context is this, whilst the root remains (meaning the husband) the branches reach to the house, and spread a shade over it against the heat of the dog-star. There is an image of this nature ia Caractacus far superior to this of iEschylus, Hail, hallow'd oaks I — Happy foresters, Ye, with your tough and intertwisted roots, Grasp the firm rocks ye sprung from, and, erect In knotty hardihood, still proudly spread Your leafy banners 'gainst the tyrannous north. Who Roman like assails you. Clyteranestra goes on. When thou art present at thy domestic hearth, thou spreadest a warmth even in the winter ; and in the hottest season the hus- band's presence gives a refreshing coolness to the house ; the first image is of protection, the other two of agreeableness, like this of Ovid, Solibus hibemis, aestiva gratior umbrk. The expression in the original is highly metaphorical, " when Jupiter forms ** the wine from the unripe grape," which means no more than to denote the autumnal heat ; it being no uncommon thing for an original rusticity of con- ception to be turned into parade and ornament. And now, having mentioned her husband under the usual epithet of the perfect, (see Stanley on the Supp. v. 82. and on this place: hence their Zivs TiXuoi, aad "H^'/i riXuctt as presiding over marriages), she artfully ad- "^^ dresses Jupiter, as the source of perfection, to perfect her intent: this play on the word is the ebullition of her heated imagination, impatient to execute her horrid purpose, as the opportunity was now arrived; and is another in- stance of that ambiguity with which this artful and determined woman took a pride in coucenling her thoughts under the very words that expressed them. Ao-amemnon. 193 o CHORUS. ' STRO. 1, What may this mean * ? Along the skies Why do these dreadful portents roll ? Visions of terror, spare my aching eyes, Nor shake my sad presaging soul ! In accents dread, not tun'd in vain, Why bursts the free, unbidden strain ? These are no phantoms of the night. That vanish at the faithful light Of stedfast confidence, lliou sober powV, Whither, ah, whither art thou gone? For since the long-pass'd hour, V When first for Troy the naval band Unmoor'd their vessels from the strand, Thou hast not in my bosom fix'd thy throne. ANTis. 1. At length they come + : these faithful eyes. See them return'd to Greece again : Yet, while the sullen lyre in silence lies, Erinnys wakes the mournful strain : Her dreadful powTS possess my soul, And bid the untaught measures roll ; • The learned reader is sufficiently sensible of the difficulty of this strophe j the translator understands it differently from tlie annotatprs, adhering how- ever to Pauw's interpretation of time and place, which is supported against Mr. Heath by the two last lines. The Chorus, under the power of an imme-»/ diate inspiration, in the sublimest style of poetry, is struck with visions of terror, At7'yfia zf^og-arn^iovt that fill his heart with presages, and compel him to utter the prophetic strain ixiXtufof, ufuff^es. Indeed no hope, in which he could confide, had touched his heart since the fleet sailed from Aulis. and the troops advanced to Troy. t Now indeed I see they are returned (continues the Chorus), yet Erinnys begins the strain, without waiting fpr the accompaniment of the lyre. Every idea is gloomy and hopeless; yet he wishes that his fears may be ia vain. 2 C 194 Agamemnon. * Swell in rude notes the dismal lay. And fright enchanting hope away ; Whilst, ominous 6i ill, grim-visag*d care Incessant whirls my tortur'd heart. Vain be each anxious fear 1 Return, fair hope, thy seat resume, Dispel this melancholy gloom. And to my soul thy gladsome light impart ! STRO. 2. Ah me, what hope! This mortal state* Nothing but cruel change can know. Shou'd cheerful health our vig'rous steps await, . Enkindling all her roseate glow ; Disease creeps on with silent pace, And withers evVy blooming grace. Proud sails the bark ; the fresh gales breathe. And dash her on the rocks beneath. In the rich house her treasures plenty pours ; Comes sloth, and from her well-pois'd sling Scatters the piled up stores. Yet disease makes not all her prey : Nor sinks the bark beneath the sea : And famine sees the heav'n-sent harvest spring. ANTis. 2. .But when forth-welling from the wound f * In the mutable state of human life, sickness is the contiguous neighbour '16 health; the bark in its fairest course is driven oq a rock; and sloth dissi- pates the greatest wealth j yet the whole house does not fall under the disease j the bark is not swallowed up by the sea; and Jupiter has many ways to re- store the wasted wealth. ♦ But when man's warm blood streams upon the ground, what charm can fecal his life ? Not even jEsculapius himself, whom Jupiter did not prevent through jealousy of his life-restoring art. And now, having uttered this omin- ous presage of blood and death/ prohibent jam c^etera parcae scire, the in- spiration ceases, and he becomes dark and silent. This ode is conceived in the sublimest spirit of poetry, yet that b but its second excellence j it receives Agamemnon. 195 Tlie purple-streaming blood shall fall, And the warm tide distain the reeking ground, Who shall the vanished life recal? ' Nor verse, nor music's magic pow'r. Nor the fam'd leech's boasted lore ; Not that his art restor'd the dead, Jove's thunder burst upon his head. — But that the Fates forbid, and chain ray tongue, My heart, at inspiration's call, Wou'd the rapt strain prolong : Now all is dark ; it raves in vain, And, as it pants with trembling pain. Desponding feels its fiery transports fall, CLYTEMNESTRA, CASSANDRA, CHORUS. <:lyt. Thou, too, Cassandra, enter ; since high Jove, Gracious to thee, hath plac'd thee in this house *, With many slaves to share the common rites, And deck the altar of the fav'ring God. Come from that chariot, and let temperance rule Thy lofty spirit : e'en Alcmena's son f , its first grace from proprietj. As the odes in this tragedy necessarily contract an obscurity from their prophetic turn, and have been generally complained of as being almost unhitelligible, the reader, it is hoped, will not be displeased at these attempts to elucidate them. •Stanley reads a/x)]virus, Auratus afinyirns : Nescio quare, says Pauw: Ego igitur dicam, says Heath ; Quia non afAnvirug, sine ir^, Jupiter videbatur potuisse staluere Cassandram ex regiua, servara in inimicorum patriaeque su» Tasiatorum fedibus. One should be cautions in opposing _the fine taste of . Stanley. Cljj-temnestra tells Cassandra that her office should be to stand at the altar of Jupiter j which was the most honourable department that could be given to captives of ranjc ; the Phcenissae of Euripides were in this manner devoted to tht Pythian Apollo; and Manto, the celebrated daughter of Ti- resias, was sent to Delphos by Alcmjeon, when he took Thebes: Jupiter therefore was gracious to Cassandra, by thus alleviating her misfortunes. t Hercu!(,'s had demanded in marriage lole, the daughter of Eurytus king 196^ Agamemnon. Sold as a slave, submitted to the yoke Perforce ; and if necessity's hard hand Hath sunk thee to this fortune, our high rank, With greatness long acquainted, knows to use Its pow'r with gentleness : the low-born wretch*. That from his mean degree rises at once To imexpected riches, treats his slaves With barbarous and unbounded insolence. From us thou wilt receive a juster treatment. CHOR. These are plain truths : since in the toils of fate Thou art inclos'd, submit, if thou canst brook Submission ; haply I advise in vain. CLYT. If that her language, like the twittering swallow's f, Be not all barbarous and unknown, my words of CEchalia : the father desired time to determine ; which Hercules CQiisidered as a refusal, and in revenge privately led away some fine horses of the king. His son, Iphitus, suspecting that Hercules had taken them, went to Tyrinthia in search of them. Hercules took him to the top of a high tower, and bade > him look around to see if he could discover them ; but Iphitus not seeing them, Hercules said that he was wron^uliy accused, and threw the prince from the tower : being seized with some malady, as a punishment for this murder, and the usual expiations not availing, he consulted the oracle of Apollo, who told him that he must publicly sell himself for a slave, and send the money arising from the sale to the children of Iphitus : his malady conti- nuing, he went into Asia, there voluntarily suffered one of his friends to sell him, and became the slave of Qmphale, daughter of Jardanus, and queen of the Meonians. M. Court de Gebelin, Allegories Orientales, p. 164. • This bad woman, we see, was capable of the generous sentiments becom* iug her high rank, but her ungoverned passions extinguished them all. Pro- bably she was not the first that had descanted on the insolence of upstart wealth i certainly she is not the last, who has reason to observe of persons suddenly enriched, " that they have not had their money long enough to be *• gentlemen." t Mr. Heath well observes, that the ancient Grecians called all nations, that spoke not " the sweet helladic tongue," swallows. The last line of this speech is another instance of the double sense, where mere is meant than meets the ear. \ Agamemnon. 197 Within shall witli persuasion move her mind. CHOR. She speaks what best beseems thy present state; Follow, submit, and leave that lofty carv i^jLYT. J have not leisure here before the gates T' attend on her ; for at the inmost altar, Blazing with sacred fires, the victims stand Devoted to the Gods for his return So much beyond our hopes, if to comply Thou form thy mind, delay not : if thy tongue Knows not to soimd our language, let thy signs Supply the place of words, speak with thy hand. CHOR. Of foreign birth she understands us not ; But as new taken struggles in the net. CJ.YT. 'Tis frenzy this, the impulse of a mind Disorder'd ; from a city lately taken She comes, and knows not how to bear the curb, 'Till she has spent her rage in bloody foam *. But I no more waste words to be disdain'd. €HOR. My words, for much I pity her, shall bear f No mark oi anger. Go, unhappy fair one. Forsake thy chariot, unreluctaut learn To bear this new yoke of necessity, i^^ CASS. Woe. woe! O Earth, Apollo, O Apollu 1 CHOR. Why with that voice of woe mvoke Apollo f * As this is ihe last, so is it the strongest instance of the double sense be- fore observed ; and her passion here carries it as far as could be, without en- dangering a discovery j She'8 gone, a manifest serpent by her sting Discover'd iu the end, till now conceal'd. ' t The Chorus, as it became them, expiess themselves with tenderness and humanity to the unhappy princess : this introduces a scene the finest perhaps that tragedy has yet known. It would be an affront to the understanding of the reader to point out the nice gradation of the prophetic furyj and that heart must be hard indeed, which does not feel the pathos* 198 Agamemnon. Ill do these notes of grief accord with him *. CASS. Woe, woe ! O Earth ! Apollo, O Apollo ! CHOR. Again her inauspicious voice invokes The God, whose ears are not attuned to woe- CASS. Apollo, O Apollo, fatal leader. Yet once more, God, thou leadest me to ruin ! CHOR. She seems prophetic of her own misfortunes. Retaining, tho* a slave, the divine spirit +. CASS. Apollo, O Apollo, fatal leader. Ah, whither hast thou led me ? to what house ? CHOR. Is that unknown ? Let me declare it then : This is the royal mansion of th' Atridae. CASS. It is a mansion hated by the Gods, Conscious to many a foul and horrid deed ; A slaughter'd-house, that reeks with human gore. CHOR. This stranger seems, like the nice-scented hound. Quick in the trace of blood, which she will find. CASS. These are convincing proofs. Look there, look there, Whilst pity drops a tear, the children butchered J, The father feasting on their roasted flesh ! CHOR. Thy fame, prophetic virgin, w^e have heard ; We know thy skill ; but wish no prophets now. CASS. Ye pow^'rs of Heav'n, what does she now design? What new and dreadful deed of woe is this ? Wkat dreadful ill designs she in the house. Intolerable, irreparable mischief, Whilst far she sends the succouring powV away ? * Gsriyco^lai, strains of mourning, were proper only to the infernal Gods, t The free spirit of Greece breathes in this; it thought that the day, which saw a man a slave, took away half his virtues. I Oracular as the words of Cassandra are, they sufficiently for the present purpose express the feast of Thyesles. A proper place will be found to give ;he full history of the house of Atrcus. Agamemnon. 199 CHOR. These prophecies surpass my apprehension : The first 1 knew, they echo thro' the city. CASS. Ah daring wretch, dost thou achieve this deed, Thus irr the bath the partner of thy bed Refreshing ? How shall I relate th' event ? Yet speedy shall it be. E'en now advanced Hand above hand extended threatens Tiigh. «H0R. I comprehend her not ; her words are daik, Perplexing me like abstruse oracles. CASS. Ha ! What is this, that I see here before me ? Is it the net of hell ? Or rather her's, Who shares the bed, and plans the murderous deed. Let discord, whose insatiable rage Pursues this race, howl thro* the royal rooms Against the victim destin'd to destruction. CHOR. What Fury dost thou call within this house To hold her orgies ? The dread invocation Appals me* ; to my heart the purple drops Flow back ; a deathlike mist covers my eyes, With expectation of some sudden ruin. CASS. See, see there : from the heifer keep the bull ! — O'er his black brows she throws th' entangling vest. And smites him with her huge two-handed engine. He falls, amidst the cleansing laver falls : I tell thee of the bath, the treach'rous bath. CHOR. T' unfold the obscure oracles of Heav'n Is not my boast ; beneath the shadowing veil Misfortune lies : When did th' inquirer learn * This passage is exceedingly difficult, where the author intended no ob- scurity j which shows the present reading to be corrupt. Pauw has at least made sense of it, which we readily embrace till a better can be found : but it 15 his hard fate always to be reprobated; therefore Mr. Heath refers the xpo- K.o Bear witness to me, that with steady step 1 trace foul deeds that smell above the earth. For never shall that band, whose yelling notes In dismal accord pierce th' aflrighted ear, Forsake this house. The genius of the feast, Drunk with the blood of men, and fir'd from thence 2 D 202 " Agamemnon. To bolder daring, ranges thro' the rooms Link'd with his kindred Furies : these possess The mansion, and in horrid measures chaunt The first base deed * ; recording with abhorrence Th' adulterous hist, that stain'd a brother's bed. What, like a skilful archer, have I lodg'd My arrow in the mark ? No trifling this, T' alarm you with false sounds. But swear to me, In solemn attestation, that I know, And speak the old offences of this house. GHOR. In such a rooted ill what healing pow'r Resides there in an oath ? But much I marvel That thou, the native of a foreign realm, Of foreign tongue, canst speak Q^ur language freely. As Greece had been thy constant residence. CASS. Apollo grac'd me with this skill. At first The curb of modesty was on my tongue. CHOR> Did the God feel the force of young desire ? In each gay breast ease fans the wanton flame. CASS. With all the fervor of impatient love He strove to gratify my utmost wish. CHOR. And didst thou listen to his tempting lures r - :' CASS. First I assented, then deceiy'd the God. CHOR. Wast thou then fraught with these prophetic arts? Cass. E'en then 1 told my country all its woes. CHOR. The anger of the God fell heavy on thee ? CAss. My voice, for this oflence, lost all persuasion. CHOR. To us it seems a voice of truth divine. CASS. Woe, woe is me ! Again the furious pow'r Swells in my lab'ring breast; again commands * By this first base deed, Pauw understands the horrid feast at which Atr^us entertained his brother Thyestes : Heath, the murder of Myrtilus, of which there js no mtnrioa by ^schylus : it relates to the adultery of Thyestes witb his brother's wife, the fatal cause of all the subsequent evils. Agamemnon. - 203 My bursting voice ; and what I speak is Fate. — ^ Look, look, behold those children. — -There they sit ; Such are the forms, that in the troubled night Distract our sleep. — By a friend's hands they died : Are these the ties of blood ? — See/in their hands Their mangled limbs, horrid repast, they bear : Th' invited father shares th' accursed feast. For this the sluggard savage, that at ease Rolls on his bed, nor rouses from his lair, 'Gainst my returning lord, for I must wear The yoke of slavery, plans the dark design Of death. Ah me! the chieftain of the fleet, The vanquisher of Troy, but little knows What the smooth tongue of mischief, lilcd to words Of glozing courtesy, w ith Fate her friend, V^' Like Ate ranging in the dark, can do Calmly : such deeds a woman dares : she dares Murder a man. What shall I call this mischief? - An Amphisbaena ? or a Scylla rather. That in the vex'd rocks holds her residence, And meditates the mariner's destruction ? Mother of Hell, 'midst friends enkindling discord And hate implacable ! With dreadful daring How did she shout, as if the battle swerv'd ? Yet with feign'd joy she welcomes his return. — These words may want persuasion, . What of that? What must come, will come : and e'er long with grief l^hou shalt confess my prophecies are true. CHOR. Thyestes' bloody feast oft have 1 heard of, Always with horror ; and I tremble now Hearing th' unaggravated truth. What else She utters, leads my wand'ring thoughts astray In wild uncertainty. CASS. . Then mark me well. 204 Agamemnon. Thou shalt behold the death of^Agamemnou. CHOR. To better omens tune that voice unblesb'd, Or in eternal silence be it sunk. CASS. This is an ill no medicine can heal. CHOR. Not'if it happens : but avert it, Heav'n ! CASS. To pray be thine ; the murd'rous deed is theirs. CHOR. What man dares perpetrate this dreadful act ? CASS, How widely dost tliou wander from my words? GHOR. I heard not whose bold hand shou'd do the deed, CASS. Yet speak I well the language of your Greece. CHOR. The gift of Phoebus this ; no trivial grace. CASS. Ah, what a sudden flame comes rushing on me ! 1 burn, I burn. Apollo, O Apollo ! This lioness, that in a sensual sty RoU'd with the wolf, the generous lion abseht, Will kill me. And the sorceress, as she brews Her philt'red cup, will drug it with my blood. She glories, as against her husband's life She whets the axe, her vengeance falls on him ' For that he came accompanied by me. — Why do I longer wear these useless honours, This laurel wand, and these prophetic wreaths ? Away ; before I die 1 cast you from me ;• Lie there, and perish ; I am rid of you ; Or deck the splendid ruin of some other. Apollo rends from me these sacred vestments, Who saw me in his rich habiliments Mock'd 'midst my fritnds, doubtless without a cause^ When in opprobrious terms they jeerM my skill. And treated me as a poor vagrant wretch. That told events from door to door for bread, I bore it all : but now the prophet God, That with his own arts grac'd me, sinks me doy/xk To this low ruin. As my father fell Agamemnon. 205 Butchered e'en at the altar, like the victim's My \yarm blood at the altar shall be shed: Nor shall we die iinhonour'd by the Gods. He comes, dreadful in punishment, the ^on Of this bad mother, by her death t' avenge His murder'd father : Distant tho' he roams. An outcast and an exile, by his friends Fenc'd from these deeds of violence, he comes In solemn vengeance for his father laid Thus low.— But why for foreign miseries Does the tear darken in my eye, that saw The fall of Ilium, and its haughty conq'rors In righteous judgment thus receive their meed ? But forward now ; 1 go to close the. scene, ' Nor shrink from death. I have a vow in Heav'n : And further I adjure these gates of Hell, Well may the blow be aim'd, that whilst my bipod Flows in a copious stream, 1 may not feel , The fierce, convulsive agonies of death ; But gently sink, and close my eyes in peace. CHQR. Unhappy, in thy knowledge most unhappy. Long have thy sorrows flow'd. But if indeed Thou dost foresee thy death, why, like the heifer Led by an heav'nly impulse, do thy steps Advance thus boldly to the cruel altar ? CASS. I cou'd not by delay escape my fate. ^ CHOR. Yet is there some q.d vantage in delay. CASS. The day is corne: by flight I shou'd gain little. , CHQR. Thy boldness adds to thy unhappiness. CASS. None of the happy shuns his destiu'd end. CHOR. True ; but to die with glory crowns our praise. CASS. So died my father, so his noble sons. CHOR. What may this mean ? Why backward dost thou star; : Do thy own thoughts ■\vilh horror strike thy soul ? 206 Agamemnon. CASS. The scent of blood and death breathes from this house. CHOR. The victims now are bleeding at the altar. CASS. 'Tis s^^ch a smell as issues from the tomb. CHOR. This is no Syrian odour in the house, CASS. Such tho' it be, I enter, to bewail My fate, and Agamemnon's. To have liv'd, Let it suffice. And think not, genVous strangers, ^ Like the poor bird that flutters o'er the bough, Thro' fear 1 linger. But my dying words You will remember, when her blood shall flow For mine, woman's for woman's : and the man's. For his that fails by his accursed wife. CHOR. Thy fate, poor sufl'erer, fills my eyes with tears. CASS. Yet once more let me raise my mournful voice. The u Sun, whose rising beams shall bless no more These closing eyes ! you, whose vindictive rage Hangs o'er my hated murderers. Oh avenge me, Tho', a poor slave, I fall an easy prey ! This is the state of man : in prosperous fortune A shadow, passing light, throws to the ground * * This is the finest image that ever entered a poet's imagination ; the words seem incapable of aay other interpretation than what is here given them j af- cordingly Grotius translates them thus, Heu tristia hominum fata! nam res prosperas Vel umbra facile evertat, infeliciiim Iraaginem omnem spongiae delet mador. Only for /SaXar?, Stanley wishes to read fioXig, "Pauw Xe^SaTa the translatof too has his conjectare. Then comes Mr. Heath, and makes a difficulty where no one ever suspected one ; he retains the obnoxious word fioXetTg, on which to build his criticism ; and, to our great surprise, we nre suddenly entertained wiih a game of backgammon : if the cast be a good one, as the dice are esasily -, overlurned, so human prosperity is subverted even by a shadow ; if the cast be unlucky, th6n a sponge wipes out the unfortunate condition of those that threw it. By y^ufh he would willingly understand the figures impressed on the sides of the dice j but as these may not so easily be wiped out with a Agamemnon. 207 Joy's baseless fabric : in adversity Comes malice with a spunge nioisten*d in gall, And wipes each beauteous character away : ' More tlian the first this melts my soul to pity. CHOR, By nature man is form'd with boundless wishes For prosperous fortune ; and the great man's door Stands ever open to that envied person, On whom she smiles : but enter not with words, Like this poor sufferer, of such dreadful import. His arms the pow'rs of H eav'n have grac'd with conquest; Troy's proud walls lie in dust ; and he returns Crown'd by the Gods with glory : but if now His blood must for the blood there shed atone*. If he must die for those that died, too dearly He buys his triumph. Who of mortal men Hears this, and dares to think his state secure ? AG AM. Oh, 1 am wounded with a deadly blow. [zmthin SEMI. List, list. What cry is this of wounds and death f AG AM. Wounded again, Oh, basely, basely murder'd. SEMI, 'Tis the king's cry; the dreadful deed is doing. What shall we do ? what measures shall we form ? SEMI. What if we spread th' alarm, and with our outcries sponge, he is well inclined to think, that it means the chalk witiv which the players of ancient as well as modern times scored their games. It is pe- culiarly unfortunate, thaj this learned person could find nothing to his purpose in Pollux, Meursius, Salmasius, and Souterius, whom he consulted on this oc- casion. But this is not the first time this favourite annotator put his extin- guisher over the flaming spirit of -^schylus. * These words are ill understood, as' alluding to the murder of Myrlilus, the supper of Thyestes, and the other horrid deeds of the house of Pelops j they refer to a melancholy observation of the Chorus in a former ode. For never with unheedful eyes, When slaughter'd thousands bleed, ^ Did the just pow'rs of Heav'n regard Th(j carnage of th'ensanguin'd plain. 208 Agamemnon. Call at the palace gates the citizens ? SEMI. Nay ralher rush we in, and prove the deed, Whilst the fresh blood is reeking on the sword* SEMI. I readily concur; determine then ; For something must be done, and instanlly. SEMI. That's evident. This bloody prelude threatens More deeds of violence and tyranny. SEMI. We linger: those that tread the paths of honour^ Late tho' she meets them, sleep not in their task. SEMI. Perplexity and doubt distract my thoughts : Deeds of high import ask maturest counsel. SEMI. Such are my thoughts, since fruitless were th' attempt By all our pleas to raise the dead to life. SEMI. To save our wretched lives theft shall we bow To these imperious lords, 'these stains of honour ? SEMI. That were a shame indeed: No: let us die; Death is more welcome than such tyranny. SEMI. Shall we then take these outcries, which we heard. For proofs, and thence conclude the king is slain ? SEMI. We shou'd be well assur'd e'er we pronounce : To know, and to conjecture, differ widely. SEMI. There^s reason in thy words. Best enter then, ^ And see what fate attends the son of Atreus. ' CLYTEMNESTRA, CHORUS. CLYT. To many a fair speech suited to the times * * The irresolution of the Chorus is here reh'eved l^y the entrance of Cly- temnestra. Having perpetrated tlie bloody deed, she throws off the disguise, and appears at once in her real character, determined and daring in her de- signs, calm,inirepi(.], and bidding defiance to the consequences. She triumphs in thi deed, and ^akes a pride in recounting her deep-laid treachery, and the ] articulars ofits execution. Not satisfied with killing her husband, she man- gled him when dead, wliicb she calls a sacrifice to Pluto, and glories in the blood with which she was stained ; najs would decency permit it, she would even make libations over the dead, which Mr. Heath judiciously explains, by 1/ Agamemnon. 209 If my words now be found at variance, 1 shall not blush. For when the heart conceives Thoughts of deep vengeance on a foe, what means T' achieve the deed more certain, than to wear The form of friendship, and with circling wiles Inclose him in th* insuperable net ? This was no hasty, rash-conceiv'ii design ; But form'd with deep, premeditated thought, lncens*d with wrongs ; and often have 1 stood, T' assay the execution, where he fell ; And plann'd it so, for I with pride avow it, He had no pow'r t' CvScape, or to resist, Entangled in the gorgeous robe, that shone Fatally rich. I struck him twice, and twice He groan'd, then died. A third time as he lay I gored him with a wound ; a grateful present To the stern God, that in the realms below Reigns o'er the dead : there let him take his seat. He lay ; and spouting from his wounds a stream Of blood, bedew 'd me with these crimson d/rops. I glory in them, like the genial earth. When the warm show'rs of Heav'n descend, and wake The flow'rets to unfold their vermeil leaves. Come then, ye reverend senators of Argosy Joy with me, if your hearts be tunM to joy ; And such I wish them. Were it decent now telling us, that it was a custom among the ancients after the defeat of tb«ir enemies, to pour libations to tlie Gods their deliverers, in gratitudtj (pv,Xke\t victory and freedom. Thus Hector says, II. vi. ult. These ills shall cease, whene'er by Jove's decree We crown the bowl to Heav'n and liberty ; While the proud foe his frustrate triumphs mourns. And Greece indignant thro' her seas returns.- Pofe. The allusion to this bowl is finely carried on, and gives an air of solemnity to her speech, which breathes the genuine spirit of iEschylus. 2 E 210 Agamemnon. To pour libations o*er the dead, with justice It might be done ; for his injurious pride Fill'd for this house the cup of desolation, Fated himself to drain it to the dregs. CHOR. We are astonish'd at thy daring words, Thus vaunting o'er the ruins of thy husband. CLYT. Me, like a witles§ woman, wou'dst thou fright? I tell thee, my firm soul disdains to fear. Be thou disposed t' applaud, or censure me, I reck it not : there Agamemnon lies, My husband, slaughtered by this hand : I dare Avow his death, and justify the deed. CHOR. What poison hath the baleful-teeming earth*, Or the chaf'd billows of the foamy sea, Giv'n thee for food, or mingled in thy cup, To work thee to this frenzy ? Thy curs*d hand Hath struck, hath slain. For this thy country's wrath Shall in just vengeance burst upon thy head, And with abhorrence drive thee from the city. «I.YT. And dost thou now denounce upon my head Vengeance, and hate, and exile ? 'Gainst this man Urging no charge ! Yet he without remorse, As if a lamb that wanton'd in his pastures Were doom'd to bleed, cou'd sacrifice his daughter, For whose dear sake J felt a mother's pains, T' appease the winds of Thrace. Shou'd not thy voice * It would not be easy to account for the irresolution of the Chorus before, but that it was in the Fates tliat Cassandra should never be believed, and the catastrophe was not to be prevented : we must observe however, that tliere was nothing of timidity Tn it, nothing that shows their unwillingness to un- dergo even the least danger for the sake of saving, or avenging their king : the spirit pf ^Eschylus revolts at (he supposition : and these tame old men,though the danger was now imminent to themselves, brave the queen to her face, and even threaten her and ^gisthus with the vengeance of the slate : this free and manly spirit is well supported to the end. Agamemnon. !2ll Adjudge this rnian to exile, in just vengeance For such unholy deeds ? Scarce hast thou heard What i have done, but sentence is pronounced, And that with rigour too. But mark me well, I boldly tell thee that 1 bear a soul Prepared for either fortune : if thy hand Be stronger, use thy pow'r : but if the Gods Prosper my cause, be thou assured, old man, Thou shalt be taught a lesson of discretion. CHOR. Aspiring are thy thoughts, and thy proud vaunts Swell with disdain ; e*en yet thy madding mind Is drunk with slaughter ; with a savage grace The thick blood stains thine eye. But soon thy friends Faithless shall shrink from thy unsheltered side. And leave thee to just vengeance, blow for blow. CLYT. Hear then this solemn oath : By that revenge, Which for my daughter I have greatly taken ; By the dread pow'rs of Ate and Erinnys, To whom my hand devoted him a victim^ Without a thought of fear I range these rooms, Whilst present to my aid iEgisthus stands, As he hath stood, guarding my social hearth : He is my shield, my strength, my confidence. Here lies my base betrayer, who at Troy Cou'd revel in the arms of each Chryseis ; He, and his captive minion ; she that mark'd Portents and prodigies, and with ominous tongue Presag'd the Fates ; a wanton harlotry, True to the rower's benches : their just meed Have they receiv'd. See where he lies ; and she. That like the swan warbled her dying notes *, * As the swan, living or dying, is a very anmusical bird, it has been the subject of wonder whence the idea of his nieJod\ at his death should arise. Luclan is very pleasant on tlie occasion j the kvkvuov ^crfAoc became a proverb • 213 Agamemnon. His paranymph lies with him, to my bed Leaving tl>e darling object of my wishes. CHOR. No slow-consuming pams, to torture us Fix'd to the groaning couch, await us now ; But Fate comes rushing on, and brings the sleep That wakes no more. There lies the king, whose virtues Were truly royal. In a woman's cause He suffered much ; and by a woman perish'd. Ah fatal Helen! in the fields of Troy How many has thy guilt, thy guilt alone, Stretch'd in the dust ? But now by murdVous hands Hast thou sluic'd out this rich and noble blood. Whose foul stains never can be purg'd. This ruin Hath discord, raging in the house, effected. CLYT. Wish not for death ; nor bow beneath thy griefs ; Nor turn thy rage on Helen, as if she . Had drench'd the fields with blood, as she alone Fatal to Greece had caus'd these dreadful ills. CHOR. Tremendous fiend, that breathest thro' this house and not only the poets, but even grave and philosophical writers have suf- fered themselves to be led away by it. The reader, who may not be acquaint- ed with Mr. Bryant's works, will be pleased to see his very ingenious solu- tion of this difficulty. " In all the places where the emigrants from Canaan, ** whose insigne was the swan, settled, they were famous for their hymns and " music : all which the Greeks transferred to birds, and supposed that they " were swans, who were gilted with this harmony. When, therefore, Plu- " tarch tells us, that Apollo was pleased with the rausic of swans, and when " yEschylus mentions their singing their own dirges, they certainly allude to " •Kyypti'i'^ ^^^ Canaanitish priests, who lamented the death of Adon and " Osiris."-— —Analysis, vol. i. p. 380. — Hence our incomparable. Milton, Thammuz came next behind. Whose annual wound in Lebanon allur'd The Syrian damsels to lament his fate In am'rous ditties all a summer's day ; While smooth Adonis from his native rock Ran purple to the sea, suppos'd witli blood Of Thammuz yearly wounded. Agamemnon. 213 Thy baleful spirit, and with equal daring * Hast steel'd these royal sisters to fierce deeds That rend my soul, now, like the baleful raven. Incumbent o'er the body dost tliou joy T' affright us with thy harsh and dissonant notes ! CLYT. There's sense in this : now hast thou touched the key, Rousing the Fury that from sire to son Hath bade the stream of blood, first pour'd by her. Descend : one sanguine tide scarce roU'd away, Another flows in terrible succession. CHOR. i\nd dost thou glory in these deeds of death, This vengeance of the Fury ? Thus to pride thee In ruin, and the havoc of thy house, Becomes thee ill. i\h! 'tis an higher pow'r, That thus ordains ; we see the hand of Jove, Whose will directs the fate of mortal man. r * The Chorus had before compared together the deeds of these two daugh- ters of Tyndarus : Helena had destroyed many in the fields of Troy, Clyir temnestra one man, but one of such dignity, that he was equivalent to many ; the comparison is here continued, that the baleful spirit which breathed through the house of Tantalus, had steeled these royal sisters to d^eds of equal during. — Heath. Clytemnestra had said before, that the avenging Fury ot Atrcus had sacri- ficed the man for the children ; the Chorus here replies, may an avenging Fury arise from the father to vindicate his cause » the words are express, and so understood by Pauw : Mr. Heath explains them by the old Fury of Atreus before mentioned : the (usAa? "A^h? next following is, in the language of iEschylus, the sword, and gives an obscure, but sublime propliecy of the ven- geance of Orestes ; Mr. Heath renders it, niger discordiae genius, carrying its rage to such an height, as to strike horror even into him that devoured his own sons : Pauw translates it pruinamet frigus puero voraci, i.e. Oresti, prae- bebit : the difficulty lies in the word y.3^oQo^(ti, and will not readily be cleared up. Mr. Heath might have spared his ungentlemanhke censures of Pauw, had he recollected that so horrid a design in Orestes, as the murder of his mo- ther, must have a natural tendency to freeze his young blood* 214 Aframemnon. &' My king, my royal lord, what words can show My grief, my reverence for thy princely virtues ! Art thou thus fall'n, caught in a cobweb snare, By impious murder breathing out thy life ? Art thou thus falln, Ah the disloyal bed ! Secretly slaughter'd by a treachVous hand ? CLYT. Thou say*st, and say'st aloud, 1 did this deed : Say not that I, that Agamemnon's wife. Did it : the Fury, fatal to this house, '^ In vengeance for Thyestes* horrid feast, AssumM this form, and with her ancient rage Hath for the children sacrific'd the man. CHOR. That thou ar| guiltless of this blood, what proof. What witness ? — From the father, in his cause. Rise an avenger ! Stain'd with the dark streams Of kindred blood fierce waves the bick'ring sword. And points the ruthless boy to deeds of horror.— My king, my royal lord, what words can show My grief, my reverence for thy princely virtues ! Art thou thus fall'n, caught in a cobweb snare. By impious murder breathing out thy life ? Art thou thus fall'n. Ah the disloyal bed ! Secretly slaughter'd by a treachVous hand ? CLYT. No : of his death far otherwise 1 deem, Nothing disloyal. Nor with secret guile Wrought he his murd'rous mischiefs on this house* For rny sweet flowVet, opening from his stem. My Iphigenia, my lamented child, Whom he unjustly slew, he justly died. Nor let him glory in the shades below ; For as he taught his sword to thirst for blood, So by the thirsty sword his blood was shed. CHOR. Perplex'd and troubled ui my anxious thought. Agamemnon. 215 Amidst the ruins of this house, despair Hangs heavy on me. Drop by drop * no more Descends the showV of blood ; but the wild storm In one red torrent shakes the solid walls ; Whilst vengeance, ranging thro' the deathful scene, For further mischief whets her fatal sword. «EMI. O Earth, that 1 had rested in thy bosom, E'er I had seen him lodg'd with thee, and shrunk To the brief compass of a silver urn ! Who shall attend the rites of sepulture ? Who shall lament him ? Thou, whose hand has shed Thy husband's blood, wilt thou dare raise the voice Of mourning o'er him ? Thy unhallow'd hand Renders these honours, shou'd they come from thee, Unwelcome to his shade. What faithful tongue, Fond to recount his great and godlike acts, Shall steep in tears his funeral eulogy ? CLYT. This care concerns not thee : by us he fell. By us he died ; and we will bury him With no domestic grief. But Iphigenia, His daughter, as is meet, jocund and blith Shall meet him on the banks of that sad stream, The flood of sorrow^ and with filial duty Hang fondling on her father's neck, and kiss him. CHOR. Thus insult treads on insult. Of these things Hard is it to decide. Th' infected stain Communicates th' infection ; murder calls For blood ; and outrage on th* injurious head, At Jove's appointed time, draws outrage down. Thus, by the laws of nature, son succeeds • Stanley translates ihe words ■^sKot.g 3'e Xvya, " it ceases to fall drop bj ** drop ;" and so common sense, and the commoii rules of criticism require that it should be rendered ; Mr. Heath translates them by *• the storm sub- *** sides for a time ;'* and thereby destroys the greatness of the conception. 216 Agamemnon. To sire ; and who shall drive him from the house ? CLYT. These are the oracles of truth. But hear me; It likes me to the genius of the race Of Plisthenes * to swear that what is past, Tho' poor the satisfaction, bounds my wishes. Hither he comes no more : No, let him stain Some other house with gore. For me, some poor. Some scanty pittance of the goods contents me, I Well satisfied that from this house Fve driven These frantic Furies red with kindred blood. iEGlSTHUS, CLYTEMNESTRA, CHORUS. jEGis. Hail to this joyful day,' whose welcome light Brings vengeance ! Now I know that the just Gods Look; from their skies, and punish impious mortals. Seeing this man roll 'd in the blood-wove woof^ . The tissue of the Furies, grateful sight, ""^^And suffering for his father's fraud ful crimen. Atreus, his father, sovereign of thi^ land. Brooking no rival in his pow'r, drove out My father and his brother, poor Thyestes, A wretched exile : from his country far He wander'd ; but at length return'd, and stood A suppliant before the houshold Gods, Secure in their protection that his blood Shou'd not distain the pavement. This man's father^ The sacrilegious Atreus, with more show Of courtesy than friendship, spread the feast; Devoting, such the fair pretence, the day To hospitality and genial mirth : Then to my father in that feast serv*d up The flesh of his own sons ; their hands and feet The relation of Plisthenes to the house of Pelops is not well made out. Hither he comes no more, means the genius of the race of Plisthenes, Agamemnon. 2J7 Hack'd off before, their undistinguished parts He eat, without suspicion eat, a food Destructive to the race. But when he knew Th' unhallow'd deed, he rais'd a mournful cry, And starting up with horror spurn'd to the ground The barb'rous banquet, utt'ring many a curse Of deepest vengeance on the house of Peiops. Thus perish all the race of Plisthenes ! And for this cause thou seest him- fall'n, his death With justice I devis'd; for me he chas'd, The thirteenth son, an infant in my cradle. With my unhappy father. Nurs'd abroad, Vengeance led hack my steps, and taught my hand From far to reach him. All this plan of ruin Was mine, reckless of what ensues ; e'en death Were glorious, now he lies caught in my vengeance. CHOR. T' im bitter ills with insult, this, iEgisthus, I praise not. Thou, of thine own free accord, Hast slain this man ; such is thy boast ; this plan Of ruin, which we mourn, is thine alone. But be thou well assur'd thou shalt not 'scape, When, rous'd to justice, the avenging people Shall hurl their stones with curses on thy head. iEGis. From diee, who labourest at the lowest oar, This language, and to him that holds the helm ! Thou shalt be taught, old man, what at thy age Is an hard lesson, prudence. Chains and hunger, Besides the load of age, have sovereign virtue To physic the proud heart. Beliold this sight *; * Behold this sight. The learned Ger. Vossius objects to the conduct of this pla^r, that Agamemnon is killed and buried with such quickness, that the actor had not breathing time given him. It appears from this passage, and •everal others, that the body yet Jay where the murder was committed, and 2 F 218 Agamemuon. Does it not ope lliine eyes ? Rest quiet then ; Contend not with the strong ; there's danger in it. CHOR. And cou'd thy softer sex, whilst the rough war Demands its chieftain, violate his bed, And on his first return contrive his death ? ^Gis. No more : this sounds th' alarm to rude complaints. The voice of Orpheus with its soothing notes Attracted e'fen the savage ; whilst thy yells To rage inflame the gentle : but take heed ; Dungeons and chains may teach thee moderation. CHOR. Shalt thou reign king in Argos ? Thou, whose soul Plotted this murder ; whilst thy coward hand Shrunk back, nor dared to execute the deed ? jEGis. Wiles and deceit are female qualities : The memory of my ancient enmity Had wak'd suspicion. Master of his treasures, Be it my next attempt to gain the people : Whomever 1 find unwilling to submit, Him, like an high-fed and unruly horse Reluctant to the harness, rigour soon Shall tame : confinement, and her meagre comrade Keen hunger, will abate his fiery mettle. CHOR. Did not the baseness of thy coward soul Unman thee to this murder, that a 'woman, Shame to her country and her country's Gods, Must dare the horrid deed ? But when Orestes, Where'er he breathes the vital air, returns, Good fortune be his guide, shall not his hand Take a bold vengeance in the death of both ? ^Gis, Such since thy thoughts and words, soon shalt thou feel—' CHOR. Help, ho ! soldiers and friends; the danger's near ; , tUe funeral rites arc spoken of as to be performed at some future indefinite time. Agamemnon. 219 Help, bo ! advance in haste, with your drawn swords ! iHGis. My sword is drawn : ^gisthus dares to di6. CHOR. Prophetic be thy words ! We hail the omen*. CLYT. Dearest of men, do not heap ills on ills : I wish not to exasperate, but to heal Misfortune's past : enough is giv'n to vengeance ; Let no more blood be spilt. Go theli, old men. Each to your homes ; go, whilst ye may, in peace. What hath been done the rigour of the tunes Compell'd, and hard necessity ; the weight Of these afflictions, grievous as the are, By too severe a doom falls on our heads. Disdain not to be taught, tho' by a woman. JiiGis. Ay ; but to hear this vain, tongue-doughty babbler, Lavish of speech that tempts to desperate deeds, It moves me from tbe firmness of my temper. CHOR. An Argive scorns to fawn on guilty greatness. -«Gis. My vengeance shall o'ertake thee at the last. CHOR. Not if just Heav'n shall guide Orestes hither. iEGis. An exile, 1 well know, feeds on vain hopes. CHOR. Go on then, gorge with blood ; thou hast the means. jEGis. This folly, be assur'd, shall cost thee dear. CHOR. The craven, in her presence, rears his crest f. * The translator has rendered the word rvx^iv here by omen, which "in its " proper sense signifies futurje rei signum, quod ex sermone ioquentis capitur." Tully says, lib. i. Divin. Pythagorei non solum voces deorum observarunt, sed etiam hominum, quae vocant omina. This sort of omen was supposed to depend much upon the will of the person concerned in the event : hence the phrases, " accepit omen," " arripuit omen." This was its first and proper signification.— Div. Leg, t On' observing the different characters and qualities of Agamemnon and iSilgisthns, these words of old Hamlet readily present themselves as a proper comment on the conduct of Clytemnestra. But virtue ; as it never will be mov'd, Tho' lewdness court it in the shape of Heffv'n j 220 Agamemnon. CLYT. Slight men, regard them not ; but let us enter. Assume our state, and order all things well. So lust, tho' to a radiant angel link'd, Will sate itself in a celestial bed. And prey on garbage.——— THE CHOEPHOR^. PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. ORESTES ' PYLADES ELECTRA CLYTEMNESTRA ^GISTHUS SERVANTS CHORUS of TiiojAN Dames, THE CHOEPHORtE, 1 HE Chorus in the former play, with a dignity and firmness becoming senators of Argos, had ex- pressed their abhorrence of the murder of Aga- memnon even to the face of Clytemnestra and JEgisthus, and threatened them with the anger of j the Gods and the vengeance of Orestes : this is ^ here executed. The characters of Orestes and Electra are finely supported. A pious resentment of the murder of \y his father, a consciousness of his own high rank, and a just indignation at the injuries he had received from the murderers, a generous desire to deliver his country from the tyranny of these usurpers, and abojt:e_~alUt^ie^^x^~es^ command^ of Apollo, with a promise of his protection if he obeyed, and a de- nunciation of the severest punishments should he dare to disobey, incited Orestes to this deed : he is 224 accordingly drawn as a man of a brave and daring spirit, touched with the highest sense of honour, and the most religious reverence of the Gods : in such a character there could be nothing savage and fero- cious ; and we are pleased to find him deeply sen- sible of the horror of the deed .which he was obliged to perpetrate, and averse to plunge his sword into the breast of his mother. " Electra's character (in " the words of the critic) is that of a fierce and " determined, but withal of a generous and virtuous *' woman. Her motives to revenge were, princi- ** pally, a strong sense of justice, and superior af- " fection for a father; not a rooted, unnatural ** aversion to a mother. She acted, as appears, not " from the perturbation of a tumultuous revenge, but " from a fixed abhorrence of wrong, and a virtuous " sense of duty." Consistently with this character, when she had given Orestes a spirited account of their father's murder, which drew him to declare his resolution to revenge it, showing at the same time some sign of remorse, she adds a short relation of the barbarous indignities offered to the dead body ; a deed of horror which, she. knew, would shock his soul. She had seen her father murdered, his body mangled, and buried without its honours ; her br(5ther, whom she loved with the tenderest af- fection, deprived of his throne, and exiled from his country ; her mother in the arms of JigisthOB aban- doning herself^to her loose and infamous pleasures ; she was herself continually exposed to the insults 225 and barbarous treatment of this ungentle mother ; what wonder then that a spirit naturally lofty and sensible should catch fire at these injuries, contract a wolfish fierceness, as she expresses it, and urge her brother to sacrifice these proud oppressors to ' justice and revenge ? But the poet, with great regard to decorum, removes her from the scene before the dreadful deed is to be committed : with regard to his management of the catastrophe, nothing could be more judicious. Orestes, who had rushed on jEgisthus with the fury of a tyger, in the presence of his mother feels himself under the restraint of filial reverence, and confesses his reluctance to shed her blood; till Pylades animates him with a sen- tence as solemn as the Delphic Oracle ; which finely marks the fatal blow as an act of necessary justice, not of ruffian violence.' Even the Chorus, who enter warmly into the interests of Electra and Orestes, and had fired him to revenge by every argument of duty, justice, law, and honour; who had wished to hear the dying groans of the guilty tyrants, and to echo them back in notes as dismal, after the deed is done, reassume the softer sentiments of humanity, and lament their fate. The remorse and madness of Orestes is touched in the finest manner. These indeed are but sketches, but they are the sketches of a great master : a sucgeeding poet had the skill to give them their finishing, and heightened them ^*ith the warmest glow of colouring. The spirit of ^chylus shines through this tragedy ; but a certain '^ 2 G 226 softening of grief hangs over it, and gives it an air of solemn magnificence. The scene of this tragedy,. as of the former, is at Argos before the royal palace. Orestes, according to the custom of ancient times, offering his hair on the tomb of his father, sees a train of females advanc- ing from the house, and bringing libations to the tomb ; from whence the play receives its name. The action is afterwards removed to the area before the palace. This requires no change of scene. TH] CHOEPHORtE, ORESTES, PYLADES. ORES. O THOU, that to the regions of the dead* Bearest thy father's high behests, O hear, Hear, Mercury, thy supplicant, protect, • The beginning of this play is lost j but fortunately the sense remains en- tire. Orestes, returned from banishmerit, and advancing to the tomb of his ' ifather, first implores the protection of Mercury, as the conductor of the dead to the shades below, which was his known office ; thus Horace, Tu pias laetis animas reponis Sedibus. Then addresses h^s father's manes, whilst he places on the tomb his hair before consecrated to the river Inachus ; and this in perfect conformity to ancient usage : thus Achilles at the funeral of Patroclus cuts off his hair, sacred to Sperchius : instances abound. As the Grecians wore their hair long, and dressed it with much elegance, we may suppose, that .the depriving themselves of so considerable an ornament was an indication of grief j we are led to thi» by the words of Pindar, Pyth. iv, Ouot Ko^oCv TrXoxajiAot When Helena, at her return to Argos soon after the. death of Clytemnestra> thought it necessary to present her hair at her sister's tomb, she takes care ta €ut it SQ as not to disfigure herself j on which Electra says. 228 V The Choephorae. ^ And save me ; for I come, from exile come, Revisiting my country ! — Thou, dread shade, At whose high tomb I bow, shade of my father. Hear me, O hear ! To thee these crisped locks, Once sacred to th' nurture-giving stream Of Inachus, in th' anguish of my soul ^ - I now devote. — But what are these, this train Of females in the sable garb of woe Decently habited ? Whence spring their sorrows ?- Does some new ruin lord it in the house f Or haply, if I deem aright, they bring Oblations to my father's shade, to sooth The mighty dead. It must be so ; for, see, Electra is among them, my poor sister. Pre-eminent in grief .'— Almighty Jove, O give me to revenge my father*s death, ' And shield me with thy favour! Pylades, ' Stand we apart concealed, that I may learn What leads this train of suppliant females hither. CHORUS. •#TRO. 1. This sadly^pensive train to lead, With hallow'd rites to sooth the dead, To bear these oflPVings to his shrine. The melancholy task is mine. And, as from yon' proud walls I take my way. My cheeks, with many' 9, sounding blow Beat by these bauds, in crimson glow. Whilst my poor heart to anguish sinks ^ prey ; And the fair texture of tl^s vest, O nature, in the bad how great aii ill • But in the virtuous strong thy poM?'r to save. See, she hath shorn tl>e extrehiity of her locks, Anxious of beauty, the same woman stiU, Eurip, Elect. The Choephorae, 229 That decent o'er my swelling b6sofn roll'd, My griefs thro' ev'ry waving fold Have rent, and bared my bleeding breast. ANTXS. 1. For in the still and midnight hour, When darkness aids his hideous powV, Affright, that breathes his vengeance deep, Haunts with wild dreams the troubled sleep. That freeze the blood, and raise the bristling hair 3 Grim spectre ! he with horrid tread Stalk'd Jiround the curtain *d bed. And rais'd a yell that pierc'd the tortur'd ear. Aghast the heav n-taught prophet stood ; The dead, he cries, the angry dead around These dreadful notes of vengeance sound, / Dreadful to those that shed their blood. STBO* 2. With soul-subduing fear appall'd Me this unholy woman call'd, ' To bear these gifts., this train to lead. And sooth to peace the mighty dead. But will these gifts be grateful to his shade ? O Earth, when once the gushing blood Hath on thy purple bosom flow'd, What grateful expiation shall be made^ Ill-fated house, thy master slain, How are thy glories vanish'd ! O'er thy walls A joyless sunless darknebs falls, , And horror holds his hateful reign. ANTIS. %. Round him the blaze of greatness shone, And dignify adnin'd his throne : The people b'>w'd before their lord^ ^ , Awe struck, a«id his high state ador*d. Whert now that reverend awe, that sacred dread Of niajfc'sly ? Success, to thee. As to a God, men bend the knee. §30 The ChoephoTO. But justice hastes t' avenge each impious deed; Some in day's clear and open light, Some in the dusky evening s twilight shade Or by delay more furious made, Some in the dreary gloom of night. I POD. His blood, that sunk upon the ground A stiffen'd mass of carnage lies, Aloud for vengeance on his murderers cries : Ate obeys the call ; but slow Delays, till dreary night inclose them round, Prepar'd to strike a deeper blow. Shall he, that foul with midnight rape Pollutes the nuptial bed, escape ? Murder and lust ! Were all the streams, that win3 "Their mazy progress to the main, To cleanse this odious stain in one combin'd. The streams combin'd wou'd flow in vain. /^Me, from my bleeding country torn, Condemn'd the servile yoke to bear, Bitter constraint and spirit-sinking fear Compel t' obey their proud commands; Just, or unjust, perforce they must be born ; Captive, my life is in their hands : , Perforce m'y struggling soul conceals its hate ; My vest forbids the starting tear to flow ; Mourning the mighty chiefs unhappy fate Silent I stand, and stifl*en with my woe. ML EC. Ye captive females, to whose care this house Owes what it has of order, since with me You here are present on these suppliant rites Attendant, show, instruct me, as 1 pour These solemn off"rings on the tomb, what words. Of gracious potency shall 1 pronounce ? Or how invoke my father? Shall I sajf , The ChoepWae. , 231 « To her lov'd lord the loving wife hath sent *i These presents ?" Shame forbids : nor hath my tongue . Ought of address, whilst on my father's tomb I offer these atonements. Shou'd I rather, As nature prompts, entreat him to return Like garlands to the senders, meet reward ^ For their ill deeds ? Or with inglorious silence, For so he perish 'd, on the thirsty earth Pour thes^e libations, then retire, like one That in some worthless vessel throws away Something unclean, and casts the vessel with it, Nor backwards turns her eyes. Instruct me, friends, Advise me, for alike we hate this house; Be open then ; here you have none to fear. The free escapes not fate, more than the wretch That trembles at his proud lord's tyrannous hand. If thou hast ought of counsel, give it me. CHOR Since, as some hallow'd shrine, thy father*s tomb I reverence, at thy bidding I will speak. ELEC. I charge thee, by that reverence, freely speak. CHOR. With these libations pour thy ardent vows For blessings on the head of all his friends. ELEC. Whom by that honour'd title shall I name ? CHOR. Thyself the first, and all that hate jEgisthus. ? ELEC. For thee and me then shall 1 pour these vows? CHOR. To learn, and weigh this well, be thy concern, ELEC. Whom to this friendly number shall 1 add? CHOR. Tho' distant far, remember poor Orestes. ELEC. That's well : 1 learn no little wisdom from thee. CHOR. Remember next the authors of his death. ELEC. What shouM I say? Instruct my lack of knowledge.. CHOR. Pray that some God, or man, may come to them. ELEC. With what intent ? To judge, or to avenge ? CHOR. Speak plainly, to repay them death for death. / S32 The Choephorae. ELEC. And may this be with reverence to the Gods? CHOR. What hinders to requite a foe with ill ? ELECTRA at the tomb. O thou, that to the realms beneath the earth Guidest the dead, be present, Mercury, "And tell me that the powVs, whose solemn sWay Extends o'er those dark regions, hear my vows ; i Tell me that o er my father's house they roll Their awful eyes, and o'er this earth, that bears - And fosters all, rich in their various fruits. And, thee, my father, pouring from this vase Libations to thy shade, on thee 1 call, O pity me, pity my dear Orestes, That in this seat of kings our hands may hold The golden reins of pow*r : for now oppress*dy And harassed by a mother's cruel hand, Who for ^gisthus, that contrived thy death. Exchanged her royal lord, he wanders far. And 1 am treated as a slave : Orestes From his possessions exil'd, they with pride Wantonly revel in the wealth thy toils Procur'd : O grant Orestes may return. And fortune be his guide ! Hear me, my father. And grant me, more than e'er my mother knew. The grace and blush of unstain'd modesty *, And a more holy hand ! For us these vows ; • The Chorus, as more experienced through their age, had instructed Elec* tra how to address the shade of her father, to pour her first vows for blessings on herself and her friends, and particularly to remember Orestes. As he was dearest to her heart, she soon f9rget9 herself j and her warmest vows are for his happy return ; then, recurring to what particularly concerns herself, she prays, not for a restoration to her princely rank, but for the virtues becoming her sex, that she may be much more modest than her mother, and her hand more lioly. '^ Propriety of character is one of the great excellencies of iEs- chylus, of which this is a very delicate instance. \ The Choephorae. 23 But on our foes may thy avenger rise Demanding blood for blood. These vows I breathe In dreadful imprecations on their heads. Be thou to us, my father, with the Gods, This earth, and powVful justice, be to us. That breathe this vital air, a guide to good. With these libations such the vows I offer. Now let your sorrows flow; attune the Paean, And sooth his shade with solemn harmony. CHOR. Swell the warbling voice of woe, Loudly let the measures flow ; And ever and anon the sorrowing tear Trickling dew the hallow'd ground, T* avert the ills we fear ; Whilst on this sepulchral mound * Her pious hands the pure libation shed, T* atone the mighty dead. Hear me, O hear me, awful lord, . Thro' the dreary gloom ador'd ! Ha ! Who is this * ? See, sisters, see, Mark with what force he shakes his angry lance : Comes he this ruin'd house to free ? / So does some Thracian chief advance; So Mars, when rous*d with war's alarms, ^ Radiant all his clashing arms, < ^ Rears high his flaming falchion to the blow, • The Chorus begins this Paean to the dead with lamentations for their lost Jerd ; they are proceeding to invoke his aid j but this is scarce mentioned, >vhen they break off with outcries, the prophetic rapture seizes thera, and im- presses on the imagination the youthful hero in all his radiant arms coming to avenge the death of his father. This is the sublime and daring spirit which , distinguishes JEschyius from ail other writers. It makes one blush to point •ut this to the reader j but Mr. Heath has rendered it necessary, who, by un- lierstanding this optative not interrogative (as he expresses hlmi9lf),bath «a< Qihilated the beauty and grandeur of the image. 234 The Choephorae. And thunders on the foe* EliEC. Tis finish'd; these libations to my father The earth has drunk* — Thou awful pow'r, that holdest 'Twixt this ethereal sky and the dark realms Beneath dread intercourse, What may this mean ? ' 'Tis all amazement. Share this wonder with me. €HOR. Say what: my throbbing heart has caught th' alarm. ELEC. Plac'd on the tomb behold these crisped locks. CHOR. Shorn from a man, or some high-bosom'd dame I ELEC. 'Tis no hard task to form ^ strong conjecture. ' ? CHOR. Young tho' thou art, inform my riper age. ELEC. None here, myself excepted, cou*d devote His locks, the mournful off 'ring ill becomes Our enemies. Then the colour ; mark it well ; 'Tis the same shade. CHOR. With whose ; I burn to know. ELEC. With mine : Compare them : are they not much like ? CHOR. Are they a secret off 'ring from Orestes ? ELEC. Mark : they are very like his clustering locks. CHOR. I marvel how he dared to venture hither, ELEC. Perchance he sent this honour to his father, CHOR. Nor that less cause of sorrow, if his fpot Must never press his native soil again. ELEC. A flood of grief overwhelms me, and ray heart Is pierc'd with anguish * ; from my eyes that view These locks, fast fall the ceaseless-streaming tears, * Much, goed "wit hath been thrown away upon this passage, which might well have been spared, had the design of the poet been attended to. No dis- covery is from hence raised ; but the mind of Electra is deeply struck ; she reasons, and conjectures, and so is finely prepared for the discovery which soon follows. Aristotle has mentioned this, but in his dryest manner ; yet it is plain, that he understood it thus, for he has drawn up the'.reusoning of Electra into a syllogism in, fornji. But envy and buffoonery are perverse qua^ lities. * \ The Choephorse. 235 Like wintVy showVs. To whom besides, that here ^ Inhabits, couM I think these locks belong? Cou'd she, who slew him, offer on his tomb Her hair ? Alas, her thoughts are impious all, Such as a daughter dares not name. I deem, With reason then I deem they graced the head Of my Orestes, dearest of mankind : / Why shou'd not I indulge the flatt 'ring hope ? Ah, had they but a voice, cou'd they but speak That 1 no more might fluctuate with these doubts Perplex'd and troubled ; cou'd they plainly tell me If they were shorn from a foe's hated head. Or fondly mix their kindred griefs with mine, A grace and honour to my father's tomb ! But to the Gods, that know what furious storm* / Burst o'er me; like a shipwreck'd mariner, "1 make appeal : if haply ought of safety Ilemains, from this small root the vig'rous trunk May spread its shelt'ring branches.— Further mark Th' impression of these feet * ; they show that two Trod here ; himself perchance and his attendant ; One of th' exact dimensions with my own. But all is anguish and perplexity, ORESTES, PYLADES, ELECTRA, CHORUS. ORES. In other pressures beg the fav'ring Gods To hear thy vows, and show'r their blessings on thee, EL EC. What blessing from them have 1 now obtain'd? QKES. Thou seest before thee whom but late thine eyes * Hoc hvTs^ov T£)c^)i§ Aloud he charg'd me to defy the danger, ^ Threat'ning to rack my soul with keenest tortures^ Shou'd I forbear t' avenge my father's death W^ith equal retribution on his murderer. That proudly riots in my wasted wealth. This honour'd shade he charg'd me to avenge, She writhes, and hisses at her foe, in vain, Who wings at ease the wide aerial plain j With her strong hooky beak the captive plies, An4 bears the struggling prey, triumphant, thro' the »kies.«— Pitt, The Choepborae. 239 Tho' round enclos'd with evils ; to the dead This triumph o'er their foes the voice declar'd A lenient joy ; to us dfenouncing ills, Corrosive leprosies with rankling tooth To knaw our flesh, and taint our healthful bodies With ulcerous foulness, changing these fresh locks " .T' untimely white ; with trains of heavier woes Rais'd by the Furies from my father's blood, Who in the realms of night sees this, and bends His gloomy brows. For the dark shafts, that fly From those beneath slain by the kindred hand Of villain baseness, frenzy, and vain fear That trembles at the shadows of the night, Rouse, sting, and drive the vice-polluted wretch With brazen scourges tortiar'd thro* the city. He from the friendly bowl, the hallow'd goblet, ' The social intercourse, the incens'd altar Is chas'd, condemn'd to bear the secret pangs Of inly-knawing guilt : meanwhile the fiends, Hatred and Infamy, pursue his steps. And drag him to an execrable death. Such was the voice of Phoebus, and demands My prompt obedience. Cou'd my soul refuse T' obey the awful mandate, yet the deed Must be accomplish'd ; many urgencies Conspire ; the charges of the Gods, the grief That wounds me for my father, the fierce pangs Of penury compel me | and the shame f, * JEschylus here in brief describes the miserable state of the nnexpkted murderer, his iHterdiction from every altar, everj table, and every house; no erne holding converse or intercourse with him as polluted and abominable. — SrANLEy. This indeed was usually the punishment inflicted by the state . but the poet here finely ascribes it t^ to the vengeance of the Furies. t Mr. Heath, who hath given us a specimen of his critical acumea un tht 240 The Choephora. That burns the generous soul^ to leaVe my country, And all those heroes glorious thro* the world, Whose conquering arms laid Troy's proud tow'rs in dust. Slaves to two women ; for his soul is woman : If not, th' occasion soon will prove his spirit. ^CHOR. And you, tremendous Destinies, whose powV Is ratified by Jove, mark the firm course Of justice, and by that direct th* event. / Be th' insults of the hostile tongue repaid With hostile insults: Justice calls aloud, ' Demanding vengeance : let the murdrous blow, Requite the murd'rous blow. The solemn voice^ Requiring that oppressive force shou'd feel Oppressive force, is sanctified by age. •KES. O thou much injured shade, my suffering father^ • In thy dear cause what shall I say, what do. Guided by fortune hither ? Where, O where Is thy couch spread ? Our light is shaded o'er With darkness deep as thine ; our youthful graces, ^ That in this royal house once bloomed with hope ibrmer part of this speech, observes here, that Orestes cannot be supposed t» reckon his own penury among the causes that incite them to revenge his father's death j but his princely generosity was affected at the poverty of those illusirious conquerors who had overturned Troy.— It must indeed have hurt his generous mind to see such men enslaved by a woman, and an ef- feminate nian ; this the poet with great judgment observes, but he no where says that their new tyrants had touched the soldiers spoils : he makes <^gis- thus say, that he was master of Agamemnon's treasures ; and Electra, in her first address to her father's shade, with much indignation says to him, Orestes, ^ From his possessions exil'd, they with pride Wantonly revel in the wealth thy toils Procured. v . And indeed it might be some aggravation to the misfortunes even of a brave prince, to see the shameless usurpers of his possessions wasting his wealth in riot, whilst he was compelled to seek a miserable and precarious subsistenee from the charity of others* , The Choephorse. 241 Fair opening, shrink ^t the rough blast of sorrow. fcttoR. No : the devouring flames, my son, that waste ^ .The body of the dead, touch not the soul ; That lives, and knows its destin d hour to show Its wrath : yet for the dead our sorrows rise. Mean while th* oppressor stands n signal mark*; And the just. griefs of fathers and of sons With restless search tr^ce all around for vengeance. ELEC. Hear me tod, O my father; in those griefs Which at -thy sepulchre thy children pour,- I have a mournful part. Thyv tomb receives Alike the suppliant and the exile. Which, Ah, which of these is well f Which without evils ? No lenient hand can ease our miseries. CHOR. Yet may the God, that utter'd from the shrine His awful voice, from these raise other sounds More pleasing ; and for these sepulchral notes. Notes steep'd in tears, thro' all these royal rooms - / The voice of joy may ring, and hail their lord Return'd to bless them with his kind protection. EL EC. Yet, O my father, hadst thou greatly fallen Beneath the walls of Troy, pierc'd by the spear , Of some bold Lycian, leaving to thy house Thy glory, gracing with illustrious splendor Thy children's steps, on that barbaric coast The high-rais'd tomb had dignify 'd thy dust, And sooth'd our sorrows. In the realms beneath Thy friendly shade, amongst the friendly shades ^ Thai: fell with honour there, had held its state Majestic and revered, a king, next those Whose awful pow'r those darksome realms obey. ^ ' For to thy last of life thou wast a king, The golden reins of empire graced thy hands. And thy strong sceptre ruled a willing people. : . ^ 2 1.. - 342 The Choephorae. ,/ But in the fields of Troy thou didst not fall. Nor is thy tomb beside Scamander's stream With those that perish'd by the hostile spear. But, Oh, 1 wish that they, by whom he fell. Had first so fall'n , and he, tho' distant far, Had heard the rumour of their bloody fate, / Secure himself, nor tangled in their snares. CHOK. Treasures of gold, my diild, are poor to this: Thy words are greater than the greatest fortune. And all her favours : from thy grief they spring *. But from this scourge a double clash .is heard f ; One from th* assistant powVs beneath the earth ; One from those lords, those hated lords that rule us. Whose rude, unhallow'd hands are stain'd with blood; This sounds most dreadful to this royal race. ELEC. This, like a piercing arrow, wounds my soul. CHOR. Supreme of Gods, send from the realms of night, The slow-avenging Ate ; bid her rise To blast the fraudful and audacious hands ^' Of impious mortals : for a father's wrongs She stamps her vengeance deep. When on this man The vengeful sword shall fall, and bleeding nigh Lies this bad woman, be it mine to hear Their shrieks of death, and answer to their cries In notes as dismal. -Why should I conceal / My honest hopes ? Fate spreads her sable wings, ^ And hovers o'er their heads ; before their eyes Stands indignation arm'd, and hate enrag'd, * The grief, which Electra expressed for the murder of her father, flowed from a generous and noble spirit : her resentment must therefore be generous \ and noble. t This grief is compared to the scourge of the Furies, from whence a double clash is heard j one given by the shade of Agamemnon, ready to assist their revenge ; the other by the murderers, which was most to be fearedi becaus* their unhallowed hands were prompt to deeds of violence. The Choephorse. 243 Beady to rend their hearts, when Jove shall stretch His puissant hands. O thou, whose powV subdues The mighty, to this country seal thy faith, And ratify their doom ! On th' impious heads 1 ask for vengeance. You, whose dreaded pow'r Th' infernal realms revere, ye Furies, hear me ! Tliere~is"aiaW"tlTatj lor each drop of blood Shed on the earth, demands that blood be shed; For from the slain Erinnys calls for slaughter, On ruin heaping ruin. Ye dread pow'rs * / Of HelFs dark realms, where are you now I Behold, Ye potent curses of the slain, behold The poor remains of this imperial house Sunk in distress, and all its glories vanished ! Where, King of Heav'n, where may we seek for refuge ? EL EC. Again my throbbing heart sinks at the sound x Of thy laments ; and darkening o'er niy soul At thy sad voice comes anguish and despair. flut when thy words breathe courage, my sick griefs Are fled, and fairer fortune seems to smile. But with what words to woo her ^ Speak aloud The miseries which we suflfer from our parents ? Or smooth our tongues to glozing courtesy ? That softens not our miseries : and our spirits, RousM by the wrongs of our ungentle mother, Contract a wolfish fierceness. With bold hand She struck the stroke *, bold as the Cissian dame * Mr. Heatb acutely observes, that the true sense of this passage bathe, scaped the sagacity of all the interpreters, who hay^ been led into their error by uniformly taking it as referring to the murder of Agamemnon ; whereas, ?a truth, it relates solely to poor Electra, whose ears had been soundly . boxed by her mother ; and the words are to be rendered thus, " She struck a mar- " tial stroke (meaning the first box on the ear she gave her daughter, as the ** signal of battle), then might you see many cuffs often repeated, her hand ) - 244 The Choephorae. Train'd to the warrior's arms. - She struck him once i; Again she struck him; her uplifted hands Redoubled blow on blow ; swift on his head The distant-sounding strokes with steep force fell. Bold, unrelenting woman, that cou'd bear Without one pitying sigh t^ entomb the king Unhonour'd with his people's grief, the husbant( Without a tear to grace his obsequies. ORES. All thbu hast mentioned are indignities That swell my grief to rage. But vengeance arms This hand, assisted by. the Gods, to punish The ignominious wrongs done to my father, M ay this revenge be mine, then let me die ! ELEC. When she had kill'd, with barbarous hands she mangled* His manly figure, and with this abuse " twisted in my hair, after the manner of a Cissian female warrior."- — Spirit of Pauw, be this an atonement for all the insults heaped upon thee ! / The design of Electra here is to excite her brother to avenge the murder of \j their father ; and we shall perceive, that this is finely carried on. Upon the accidental mention of" fairer fortune," she says, how shall we obtain it? by- speaking our griefs aloud, or by flattering our mother ? but they adiiiit no soft- ening, nor can we ever think of her with any degree of tenderness : she struck the bloody stroke, she repeated it on his unhappy head with all ihe fierceness of a Cissian Virago^ then she buried him without his honours. Orestes answers precisely to this, that vengeance, by the assistance of the 1/ Gods, and by his hand, would inflict punishment for this wrong done to his father ; but as he shows himself affected at the revenge to be executed, Elec- • tra proceeds to give him an account of the indignities offered to the dead body. , > , . , ^ n * To mangle a dead body was more horrid than the act of murder itself, «5* it made the names of the deceased a dishonourable spectacle among tha shades below, where they were thought to retain these disfiguring mntilationSj, and were of course disabled from any acts of vengeance. Plato built a fan- ciful philosophy on this opinion, of which Virgil knew how to make the true poetic use, when he describes Eriphyle pointing to the wound of her son, Maestaaique Eriphylen •• Crudelis nati monstrantem vulnera cernit. ^ ," r , The figure of Deiphobus is represented under the same idea. ,0J^' The Choephorse. 243 Entombed Him here, studious to make his murder A de ed of horror, that thro' all thy life Might shock thy soul. Such was thy father's death, Such were thy father's ignominious wrongs. But me, a poor, deserted, worthless thing *, Spurn'd like a mischievous cur from my apartments, • They bid begone: there 1 could heave the sigh Jn secret, there indulge the, mournful pleasure V To pour the tear unnotic'd and uncheek'd, > . Hear this, and on thy mind imprint it deep, Engrave itDn the tablet of thy heart; Be resolute, and calm. These things are thus : Know this, and let thine indignation rise : The time demands a "firm, determin'd spirit. And thou, my fafher, hear : on thee I call, And with a friendly voice, tho' choak'd with tears, Hear us, and aid ! pHOR. And with a friendly voice this social train -'^. .Tq her sad v^* • ^zc<.ri!- ^-e strain. Hear, mighty !-^^ >., and f m the calms of night • Re- isit this ethe^ i 'if/i't -^ ' Against thy foes impart thy aid. Be war with war, and blood with blood repaid ! Ye Gods, with justice strike the blow ! ,.,.$:. 1 tremble, as the measures flow; ^>i„> r / But Fate attends, and hears our call, • j i i?o And, stern the bloody forfeit to demand. With fury arms the kindred hand, * Electra, having given a relation of the injuries and dishonours done to her father, now proceeds to the ill treatment which she had herself received. Virgins had an honourable apartment in the house assigned them, the chaste reserve of ancient manners requiring this separation from the familiarity, and even the eyes of men : Electra was not admitted tcffhis, but like a mischiev- pus cur turned into the court, and contemptuously neglected: this was the ^ Vitmost indignity. 246 The Choephorei?. > And bids the righteous Vengeance fall. "S Here sorrow holds her dismal state, ^^ . Unsated murder stains the ground, Revenge behind and Terror wait, And Desolation stalks his round; Not with a distant foe the war to wage, But on this house to pour their rage. These are the strains, that to the Gods below,. Th* avenging Gods, in rude notes flow : Hear us, dread pow'rs ; and this imperial race> Victorious in your might, with glory grace I ORES. My royal father, who unroyally Wast murder'd, give me to command thy house t EL EC. Hear me> my father, for 1 want thy aid; Grant me to share his vengeance on iEgislhuSj, And then escape ; so may the solemn feast JBe spread to thee ; else when the grateful odours Are wafted from the festive board, to grace The mighty dead, thy shade must want its honours. To thee this hand shall bring the costliest off 'rings, To thee shall consecrate whate'er of wealth Ought, from thy treasures, to adorn my nuptials * ; And with the holiest reverence grace thy tomb. crRES. Earth, send my father to behold the combat ! EL EC. Inspire him, Proserpine, with glorious force! ORES. Think on the bath were thou wast murder'd, father ! ELEC. Think on the net in which they murder'd thee! ORES. Toils, other than of brass, entangle thee. vELEC. Th* inexplicable robe's accursVl contrivance. • Affection to her father peculiarly marks the character of Electra, of which she could not give a stronger instance than this. Deprived as she now wa» of all her share of her father's riches, she had it not in her power to offer any presents at his tomb; but should ^gisthus be slain, she devotes even her nup^ tial dowery to that purpose. The Choephorae. 247 ORBS. My father, cannot these dishonours raise thee ? ELEC. Dost thou not raise thy honour'd head ? O send Justice to aid thy friends : or if thy soul / Sinks with its wrongs, nor rises to revenge them, ' Be the like sufferings ours ! But, O my father, j:^! Hear our last cries, and sitting on thy tomb Behold thy children : pity my w eak sex,. Pity his manly sorrow, nor extinguish Th' illustrious line of Pelops : so in death Thou dost not die ; for children, when the tomb Demands the parent, with surviving glory Preserve his fame ; the corks that buoy the line, And save the net from sinking to the bottom. O hear us ; for thy sake we pour these plaiats. Thou shalt preserve thy glory, if with honour Thou hear our words, our blameless words, that honour The fortune of thy tomb, else unlamented !— Now, brother, since thy soul is rous'd to dare This deed, trust on the God, and do it straight. ' ORES. I shall : but let me pause awhile to ask ^ Wherefore she sent these offerings, on what motive ■ , '^ ' Aj"^ Thus late she sooths th* immedicable ill, ^V Paying this wretched honour to the dead , ' That cares not for it. What these presents mean i • , Surpasses my conjecture, but her crime Outweighs their worth ; for all, that can be offer'd T' atone for one man's blood, is spent it vain. Yet, if you know, explain her motives to me. HOR. I know,. for I was present : Dreams and visions, The terrors of the night, appalled her soul ; LHer guilty fears urg'd her to send these off rings. Es. Told she the dreams, that so alarm'd her fears \ floR. She fancied she had giv'n a dragon birth. iES.^And what was the event ? Tell me in brief. 248 . The Choephorae. _ ^ ^ CHOR. This new-born dragon, like an infant child^ Laid in the cradle seem'd in want of food ; And in her dream she held it to her breast. ORES. Without a wound 'scaped she the hideous monster? CHoR. The milk he drew was mix'd with clotted blood. ORES. 'Tis not for nought this vision from her husband. CHOR. She cry'd out in her sleep with the aifright ; And many lamps, dim-gleaming thro' the darkness^ '^ To do her pleasure enter'd the apartment. Soon to the tomb she sends these funeral honours, Medicinal, as she hopes, to heal her ills. ORES. But to this earth, and to my father's tomb ^t^ V^ I make my supplications, that in me Her dream may be accomplish'd ; and I judge It aptly corresponds : for as this serpent, Leaving the place that once was mine, and laid Swath'd like an infant, seiz'd that breast which nurs*d My tender age, and mingled with the milk Drew clotted blood ; and as with the affright She call'd out in her sleep ; it cannot be But, as she nurs'd this monster, she must die A violent death * ; and with a dragon's rage * Orestes shows throughout some marks of tenderness for his mother, and a reluctance to shed her blood. When Electra had urged him to do the dbed i instantly, he pauses z wliile to ask for what cause Clytenmestra had sent these oblations to the tomb ; being told that slie was affrighted with portent- ous dreams, he particularly inquires what they were.* The vision is finely and strongly conceived : he takes it as a prodigy sent from the Gods to eon- firm his resolution, he catches fire from it, and declares ^ She must die - A violent death : and with a dragon's rage This hand shall kill her. The spirit and beauty of the original is inimitablej The Choephorae. 249 This hand shall kill her, as hep dream declares. Or how wilt thou expound these prodigies ? '^ CHOR. Thus may it be. But now instruct thy friends What each must singly do, and each not do. ORES. Few words suffice: then mark me: Let her enter; And keep, I charge thee, keep my purpose secret ; That they, who slew an honourable man By curs*d deceit, may by deceit be caught In the same snare, and perish ; so the God, Pow'rful Apollo, from whose sacred voice Nothing but truth can flow, adnionish*d me, I, like a stranger, harness'd in this coarse And way-worn garb, with Pylades my friend, Will as a guest and friend knock at the gate : Our tongues shall imitate the rustic accent Familiar to the mountain-race of Phocis *. Nor will the servants, 'tis a villainous house, Receive us cheerfully ; but as we are, There shall we stand ; while each, that passes by. With shrewd remarks shall shake his head, and say Why are these strangers thus inhospitably Excluded from the gates, if their arrival JEgisthus knows 'midst his domestic train ? , But if I pass the threshold of the gates, -^ And find him seated on my father's throne, Or^hou'd he come t' accost me, be assur'd Quick as the eye can glance, e'er he can say Whence is this stranger ? my impatient sword • Clytemnestra had told Agameainon that Strophius king of Phocaea had taken Orestes under his protection from any dangers or disturbances that might arise in the state : the young prince had indeed the good fortune to escape from his mother, and was hospitably received at Phocis, from whence he now returned in disguise, attended by Pylades the son of Strophius, whose friendship was so faithful to Orestes in all his distresses, that it became pro* yerbial. 2 K 250 The Choepliorse. Shall strike him dead. So shall the fell Erinnys, That with an horrid joy riots in slaughter, Quaff this third bowl of blood. — Go then, Electra, Be watchful ; see that all things in the house '; ^ : Be well disposed. And you, I charge you guard Your tongues ; be silent where you ought, and where Your voice can aid me, speak. The rest my friend. That guides my sword to vengeance, will o'ersee. CHORUS. STRO. 1. Pregnant with ills the dreary air Gives sickness, pain, and terror birth : The seas, that wind around the earth, Fatal to iiian their hideous monsters bear : Each forest in its shaggy sides. That darkens o'er the perilous ground, The lurking, rav'nous savage hides, Whilst fierce birds wheel the summits round : And mark with what tempestuous rage Black from the skies the rushing winds engage. ANTIS. 1. But who the dangerous thoughts can tell That in a man's daring bosom roll ; Or whirl the more tempestuous soul Of woman, when the tyrant passions swell ? When love, to torment near allied. Bids frenzy rule the troubled hour ? Love, that exerts with wanton pride O'er female hearts despotic pow'r ; And birids in his ungentle chain , Each savage of the wood, each monster of the main. STRO. 2. Think with what sullen frenzy fifr'd The Thestian dame with ruthless hand * • When Althea, the daughter of Thestius, was delivered of Meleager, the Destinies attended at her labour, and upon the birth of the child, throwing a The Choephorae. " 251 y Cast on the hearth the fatal brand; ^ ' The flames consum'd it, and her son expir'd. With horror think on Scylla's deed* : To win the favour of the foes, The golden bracelets were the meed, /\ gainst her father's life she rose, Approach'd the sleeping monarch's bed, And reft the sacred honours of his head. ANTis. 2. Amongst these deeds of blood, that stain The annals of the times of old. Be that unhallow'd couch enroll'd, Whose guilty loves this royal house profane. Enroll'd be all that female hate Form'd 'gainst the chief in arms renown'd ; The chief, whose glorious, awful state >' Foes 'midst their rage with reverence own'd: Those glories, tho' they blaze no more, Quench'd by a woman's hand, I still adore, EPOD. In the black annals of far distant time The Lesbian dames recorded stand f ; log on the fire as they spun his thread of life, pronounced this charm, " O *• new-born child, we' assign the same period of existence to this log and to •' thee ;" then vanished. Althea snatched the log from the flames, and pre- served it with great care, till Meleager having slain her two brothers, for rudely taking the head of the Calydonian boar from Atalanta, to whom he had pre- sented it, this unnatural mother threw the fatal brand into the fire, and the charm of the Destinies was fulfilled. This story is told by Ovid, Met. 1. 8, * This story is also told by Ovid,' ibid. Minos, the celebrated king of Crete, was besieging Alcathoe, where Nisus reigned, on whose head grew a lock of purple hair, on which the safety of the city depended. Scylla, a daughter of Nisus, in love with the Cretan king, as Ovid relates it, or bribed with some female gewgaws according to ^Eschyltis, entered her father's apartment as he lay asleep, and cut off this charmed lock. The city was immediately taken. . t This is a very tragical tale. AH the men of Lemnos that were able to bear arms, had invaded Thrace, and continued the war three years ; their 252 The Choephorae. But the soul shudders at the crime, jAnd execrates the murders of their hand : Ba?ely at once the husbands bleed ; Th* indignant Godii abhor the deed. And shall man dare with impious voice t* approve Deeds, that offend the powers above ? Thro' the gored breast "W ith rage imprest The sword of justice hews the dreadful wound ; And haughty might That mocks at right, Like the vile dust is trampled on the ground. Righteous are thy decrees, eternal King, And from the roots of justice spring : These shall strike deep, and flourish wide. Whilst all, that scorn them, perish in their pride. / Fate the portentous sM'ord prepares, And the rough labours of the anvil shares ; Wide thro* the house a tide of blood Flows where a former tide had flow'd ; Erinnys marks the destin'd hour, Vengeful her meditated rage to pour. ORES. What/ does no servant hear me knock? Within Who waits ? Again 1 knock : Does no one hear I A third time to the servants of this house I call^ if to the stranger at his gate The great ^gisthus bears a courteous soul. SERv. Forbear. 1 hear. Who art thou, and from whence? ORES. Go tell the lords pf this fair house, to them 1 come, charged with strange tidings : haste ; wives, stung with rage and jealousy, formed an horrid design, which they ex- ecuted the very night ou which their husbaiuls returned, lo murder every male on the island. Hypsipyle alone saved her father Thoas. Statius has related the whole transaction with his usual spirit. Theb. v. 1. 70, - The ChoephorEE. 253 For now the sable chariot of the night Rolls on apace ; and the dark hour exhorts The way-spent traveller to repose beneath The hospitable roof. Call forth the matron, That has the charge of these domestic cares ; More decent, if a man ; for modesty There checks the faltVing tongue, but to a man More confident a man speaks free and open. CLYTEMNESTRA, ORESTES, PYLADES, RLECTRA, CHORUS. €^YT. Speak, strangers, what your wants*-; here shall you find Ail that becomes an house like this ; warm baths Refreshment of your toils, the well spread couch Inviting soft repose, and over all An eye regarding justice. If your business Be of more serious import, asking counsel. The province this of men; we will inform them. ORES A Phocian am I, from the town of Daulis f. Occasions of my own call'd me to Argos, Nor ask'd a better dress, than this coarse garb Familiar to me : onwards as t travell'd I met a man unknown, myself to him Unknown ; he courteous questioned me how far I journey "d, and inform'd me of my way, * Hospitality was so highly regarded, that it was amongst the moat honour- able of the labours of their greatest heroes to punish those who offered insults tp strangers ; so that it was not beneath the dignity of Clytemnestra in person to invite these travellers lur y her house ; she even takes a pride in recounting the magnificence with which they shf)u{d be entertained. t This speech conceals the greatest art under an apparent simplicity; Ores- tes appears as a rustic Phocian, and unacquainted with the person of the king ; of course he must be supposed to be a stranger to the transactions of that court, and the real history of Orestes ; this prevents all suspicion : the same alfected simplicity and innocence is preserved in his next speech. 254 The Choephorae. Strophius of Phocis, so I chanc'd to learn ; Stranger, says he, since business of thy own Leads thee to Argos, let me charge thy honour To tell his parents that the young Orestes ■ Is dead. Forget it not. Whether his friends With solemn obsequies will fetch him hence. Or in eternal rest our friendly earth Shall lay him in her hospitable bosom, Bring back their pleasure ; for the brazen urn Now holds the ashes of the honour'd youth, Whom we lament. This, faithful to my charge, Have I deliver'd ; if to kindred ears. And those, whose pow'r is sovereign here, I know not. But it is meet that his parent knew the event. ^ ELEC. Ah me! Thus desolation on our head* Is fairn. O thou relentless curse, whose rage Hung o'er this house, has thy unsparing eye Mark'd what we lodg'd at distance, aiming there Thy cruel shafts, to rob me of my friends ? ^ i r ' E'en now Orestes, who with cautious tread Had from this gulf of ruin freed his foot, E'en he, the hope medicinal to the madness .vr^ Of this ill house, shows that our hope betrays us.. ORES. It were my wish to have borne other tidings. More welcome to the lords of this fair mansion, And meriting their hospitable favours : For what more strongly to benevolence * Electra's afFectiop for lier brother induces her to attend Clytemnestra; on hearing the feigned account of his death, she breaks into a formal excla- mation on the curse of Thj;cstes, proper enough as she was circumstanced ; but what nature would not have dictated had her grief been real: she cau- tiously avoids asking the strangers any question, and even leads the queei> from making inquiries, by expressing a fondness for her brother, and throwing out a scvrrc retiection, which she had reason to think would give great offence, and so shorten the conversation. The Clioephorae. 255 Can bind the grateful soul ? Yet I shou d deem it An impious wrong not to disclose e'en these, Unwelcome, as they must be, to his friends, So solemnly entrusted to my charge. CLYT. Not less for this shalt thou receive such usage As thy worth challenges : not less for this Respected here : another wou'd have come Charg'd with the same sad message. But the hour Demands refreshment for the stranger, spent With the long travel of the weary day. Lead him to those apartments, where the men Are well receiv'd; let his attendant follow. His fellow traveller ; let thy diligent care, I charge thee, minister to all his wants. We to the rulers of this house will bear These tidings, and amongst our friends consult What measures in this sad event to form. »• , CHORUS, fl/owe. Now, my dear partners, slaves to this proud house, Now let us show our fortitude, now teach Our tongues a noble daring for Orestes. Thou hallow'd earth, thou hallow'd mound. Whose high sepulchral round Lies on the royal chief, that o'er the main To glory led his martial train. Now hear us, now impart your aid : On this important hour, Persuasion, try thy fraudful pow'r: . And thou, thro' night's surrounding shade. Come Mercury, from the shades below. And when the falchion flames, direct th' avenging blow ! SERVANT, GILISSA, CHORUS. SERv. This stranger, it shou'd seem, brings mournful tidings ; 256 - The Choephoras. I see the tear st^al from Gilissas eye, Nurse of Orestes. Wherefore dost ihoti pass These doors ? The sorrows, that attend thy steps^ Shall here find no reward : expect it not. cuLis, My royal mistress order'd me with speed To call iEgisthus to these stranger guests ; That man from man he with more certainty Might learn this iresh report. Before the servant* She kept her smile beneath a mournful eye. To hide her joy at this event ; to her A joy indeed, but to this house a tale Of deep affliction. He too, when he hear& The narrative, will from his soul rejoice. A\\. me ! what sorrows in successive train . Have in this house of Atreus pierc'd my sout From ancient times : but never have 1 sufFer'd A loss like this : with patience other ills, Well as I might, I bore. But my Orestes Was the dear object of my anxious thoughts; An infant I receiv'd him from his mother ; 1 nurs'd him, many a night to all his wants. To all his cries attentive, with a care That now avails me not : E'er reason dawns. The nurse's care is needful ; in his cradle The infant knows not to express his wants. Rise they from thirst, or hunger, or the calls Of nature : with fond diligence I mark'd Th' instinctive cry, nor with a squeamish nicenCK? Thought scorn of any office ; for my love Made ail delightful. Now, unhappy me ! My dear Orestes is, I hear, no more. But I am sent in haste to that vile man. Whose rank pollution stains this noble house : With pleasure this report will he receive. The Choephorae. 257 CHOR. With what appointment does she bid him come? GILTS. Appointment ! Let me comprehend thy meaning, CHOR. If with his train of guards, or miattended. GiLis. She bids him come attended with his guards. r^ , CHOR. No, tell him not*, this hated lord ; but wear A face of cheerfulness ; and urge him hither Alone, devoid of fear, to be inform'd. For the mind catches from the messenger A secret elevation, and bold swell. ^ - ^ GILTS. This news, it seems, is welcome to thy soul. CHOR., But what if HeavVs high King redress these ilU ? GILIS. How? With Orestes all our hopes are dead. CHOR. Not all. This needs no prophet to unfold it. GILIS. Hast thou heard ought disproving this report ? CHOR. Go, bear thy message ; do as thou art order'd : The Gods, whose care this is, will guide th' event. >, GILIS. I go, in all observant of thy precepts. • Orestes had enjoined the Chorus to be silent where they ought, and to speak where their voice might aid hira : they had kept themselves near the tomb till they saw him enter the palace ; they then advance with an intention of assisting his cause, as occasions should arise : Gilissa soon gave them a very favourable one, whfch they readily embrace, by conjuring tliat faithful servant to call forth A^gisthiis alone without his guards, which facilitated the enter- prise of Orestes ; to induce her to this, they were obliged to give her hopes of some favourable event j but though they knew her fidelity, they could not be enough assured of her prudence to trust her with the important secret: had they told her that the person, who appeared under the character of a mes- senger, had brought tidings that would give her joy, they had discovered too much ; they prudently therefore refer her to the power of Jupiter, who might redress these evils : How ? replies the nurse ; Orestes, our hope, is dead : the answer of the Chorus is so ambiguous, that she could not possibly comprehend it in its full meaning, yet clear enough to induce her to ask whether they had heard any thing that contradicted the report : not to answer this plain ques- tion in the negative, was to leave her mind under the impression of hope, and with this she is ordered to carry her message, and leave the event to the Gods : this required some management, and it is finely conducted. A cri- ticism of Mr. Heath has given occasion to this long note. '^"' £ L 258 ' The Choephora. May what is best come from the fav'rlng Gods ! CHORUS. STRO. Now my righteous prayV approve, Father and King of Gods, Olympian Jove ! To thee may I unfold ^': Such vows, as from the modest and the wise '^ In the cause 6f justice rise. O, may these eyes behold ] Her powV, ador'd by all, maintain j^; The glories of her-awful reign ! Hear me, monarch of the sky, ^ Protect him with thy guardian care; J^; O'er his foes exalt him high, ^ , ^r*' That lord it in the regal chair ! His ruiri'd honours thus restored, With fiercer rage thy vengeance shall be poured. ANTis. Yok'd to affliction's iron car This orphan son of a lov'd father spare : Restrain its headlong force ; And let the rapid wheels, with many a bound Rolling o'er the rugged ground. Here stop their painful course. And you, that guard this royal seat. Its blazing wealth, its gorgeous state. Hear, propitious Gods, and save ! Let not the blood of former slain Fresh returns of vengeance crave ; No more these crimson'd mansions stain : Slaughter no more from slaughter rise, If low beneath the righteous sword he lies ! MON. Thou, that hast fix'd thy dreary reign ^ Deep in the yawning gulf below, • Stanley h»3 marked the senite of this passage so precisely, that one is The Choephorae. 25P Yet let him rise, yet view this scene, Around his gloomy eyeballs throw. Distinct and clear the vengeance mark, That threatens from her covert dark ! Thou, son of Maia, come, and with thee lead Success, that crowns the daring deed : To form the close and dark design, '-, Whether th' ambiguous tale thou lov'st to weave, And throw around the veil of night; Or bid'st e'en truth itself deceive. Displayed in all the dazzling blaz€ of light ; The pow'rs of secresy are thine, ^ Then shall this pensive female train * * ' These rich oblations pay no more ; No more the melancholy strain, Tuned to the voice of anguish, pour. ; « Raptur'd their triumph shall 1 see, My friends from ruflian danger free. surprised to see it afterwards mistaken, but Pauw has said /liya mtm refim est orcus : So; avS^a, i. e. Agaraetnnonetn : ejus umbra rediret dumum ut iilio adesset. Mr. Heath, who always hath a prurience to quarrel with Pauw quo jure, qu^ve injuria, has discovered that ftiya vxiuv groftiov respicit ApoUinem speluncam Delphis insidenteni, ayJ^i Orestem. We allow the critic bis au- thorities, that i'e/itov is soraetinies used to express the cave at Delphos; but we cannot give up the passage cited by Stanley from Pindar. Had Apollo been here intended, we certainly should have beard something of the ftuyrtum fiara ra vrv^^^n'tit- But, says the critic, Agamemnon was dead, nothing remained of him but his ashes and his shade, prseter cineres et umhram tenuem, therefore it could not be said of him, that he beheld his house iXtttBt^Ms, xtt.) Xoifjt.'x^us, Kct.) (ptXioti BfifAUfi, but this is said in defiance of ^schylus and all antiquity. Could this learned person have forgot that Darius, who also was ashes and a- shade, was addressed as a mighty and magnificent power, ^ctiftota, fAiyaXav^^n ? Could he have forgot that Orestes had evoked his father to behold the combat ; and that Electra had implored Proserpine to give him a glorious for»e, tufto^^tv x^drif ? 260 The Choephoraa* And thou, when thy stern part is come, be bold : Think how in blood thy father roU'd : . , ' A\\d when, " my son, my son," she cries, To melt thy manly mind with plaintive moan, Then to her guilty soul recal Thy murder'd father's dying groan ; ■ And to his angry vengeance let her fall : Like Perseus turn thy ruthless eye * ; i! fC ^ < Just to thy friends above, thy friends below, Aim with applauded rage the destined wotmd | Great in thy vengeance rush upon the foe. And strike the murd'rer bleeding to the ground. ^GISTHUS, GILISSA, CHORUS. iEGis. This message has a voice, that calls me forth To learn with more assurance this report. By certain strangers brought, touching the death Of young Orestes ; most unwelcome this ; And the relation to this house will add Fresh terror to the fear, whose unheal'd wourrd Smarts inwardly and rankles. Shou'd I give Full credit to this tale, or rather deem it -^ '' The idle offspring of these women's fears. That lightly rose, and will as lightly die ? Tell me, what proof gives credit to this rumour ^ GILIS. Indeed we heard it: but go in, examine These strangers ; less regard is due to rumour, Than to cle^r information learnt from them. iRG\s,' I wish to see this stranger, and to ask him If he himself was present at his death. Or only speaks from an obscure report, . - * The mention of Perseus here obliquely insinuates, that Clytemnestra was as dangerous jtnd dreadful as Medusa, on whom Perseus could not look wbec he slew her. ' _^^^ The Choephora. 261 Deception finds no easy entrance here. CHOR. What shou'd 1 say, eternal Kmg, Or how begin the strain ? These passions how contain, That in my throbbing breast tumultuous spring ^^ . O that, in aid, my daring deed Might all the force of words exceed 1 For now distain d with blood the bickering sword The contest ends ; if all This royal race shall fall ; Or the just laws their ancient state resuming, And liberty her light reluming, Hail to his father's rights the son restored. 'Gainst two fierce wolves the youth contesting stands * Alone : May heav'n^sent conquest grace his hands ! iEGis. Oh! I am slain. [within. CHOR. That groan ! Again that groan ! Whence ? What is done ? Who rules the storm within ^ The deed is finish'd : let us keep aloof, And seem unconscious of these ills : best stand At distance, whilst destruction ends her work. ^ERV. Woe, wc^e to me ! Woe to my slaughtered lord ! Woe on my wretched head, and woe again ! ^gisthus is no more* But open here. Ye females, instantly unbar these doors ; ' f' Th' occasion calls for vigour, not t* assist The slain. Ho, here ! What, call 1 to the deaf? Or sleep you ? Where is Clytemnestra ? How Employed? Her hfe stands at the sword's bare point, And ready vengeance seems to prompt the blow. ' CtYTEMNESTRA, SERVANT, CHORUS. 'CLYT. What means thy clamour ? Whence these shrieks of woe ? * The translator readily and thankfully embraces Mr. Heath's fine conjee- - ture here, who for ^uo^ proposes to read ^ueriv. 262 The Choephorae. SERv. They, that were rumour Vi dead, have slain the living. CLYT. Ah me ! I understand thee, tho' thy words Are dark ; and we shall perish in the toils, E'en as we spread them. Give me instantly The slaught'ring axe ; it shall be seen if yet We know the way to conquer, or are conquer'd : These daring measures have my wrongs enforced. ORESTES, PYLADES, CLYTEMNESTRA. CHORUS. OKES. Thee too I seek. He has his righteous meed. CLYT. Ah me! my dear yEgisthus, thou art dead. ORES. And dost thou love the man? In the same tomb Shalt thou be laid, nor e'en in death forsake him. , CLYT. Ah, stay thy hand, my son : my child, my child, Revere this breast, on which thou oft' hast slept *, And oft thy infant lips have press'd its milk. / ORES. What shall I do, my P;y lades? Restrain'd y By filial reverence, dread to kill my mother I \\ PYL. Where then the other oracles of Phoebus, / Giv'n from the Pythian shrine ? The faithful vows. The solemn adjurations, whither vanished ? Deem all the world thy foes, save the just Gods. ©RES. Thou hast convinc'd me ; thy reproofs are just. — Follow him ; on his body will I slay thee. Alive thou held'st him dearer than my father ; Then sleep with him in death, since thou cou'dst love him,. And hate the man who most deserv'd thy love. * Orestes afterwards in his own vindication pleads thus to the father of Clytemnestra, Should wives with ruffian boldness kill their husbands, Then fly for refuge to their spns, and think, Baring their breasts, to captivate their pity, These deeds would pass for trivial, as their mood, *" For sometiiing or for nothing, shall incline ihem.. EuRiP. EleeU The Choephorse. 263 CLYT. I nurs'd thy youth, and wish to tend thy age. \ ORES. What, shall my father's murd'rer dwell with me ? \y CLYT. The Fates, my son, the Fates decreed his death, ^y^ | ORES. And the same Fates decree that thou shalt die. \ \CLYT. Dost thou not dread a mother's curse, my son ? ORES. That mother cast me out to, want and niisery, CLYT. Not so ; I sent thee to a friendly house. ORES. Tho' nobly born, a slave, and doubly sold. CLYT. What in exchange, what price did I receive ? ORES. 1 blush to charge thee with the guilty price. CLYT. Blush not; but wiih it name thy father's lightness. ORES. Sitting in wanton ease, blame not his toils. GLYTw Barr'd from oiir husbands, irksome are our hours. ORES. Yet in your ease your husbands' toils support you. CLYT. My son, my son, thou wilt not kill thy mother I ORES. Thy hand, not mine, is guilty of ihy death. CLYT. Take heed; avoid a mother's angry Furies. ORES. Relaxing here, how shall i 'scape my father's? CLYT. Methinks while yet alive before my tomb I pour the funeral strain, that nought avails me. ORES. Nought: for Diy father's fate ordains thy death. / CLY^-. Ah me ! I gave this dragon birth, 1 nurs'd him : These terrors of the night were more than phantoms. ORES. Foul and unnatural was thy murd'rous deed: Foul and unnatural be thy punishment. CHOR. The double ruin e'en of these awakes \_alone. Our grief. But since his cruel fate has plung'd Orestes deep in blood, pour we the pray'r That his fair day set not in endless night. ' STRO. Revenge at length is come, tho' slow her pace, For Priam's ruin'd race. In Agamemnon's royal hall, Rous'd by the P>thian God's inspiring call, w J^4 264 The Choepliora?. The glorious exile stands ; With lion port, with martial mein, Such as the God of war is seen. The sword of justice lighfning in his handsy ipir'd by the prompting voice divine, That thunder'd from the shrine, Dauntless he dared these dang'rous courts to tread. Hark ! 'tis his voice : the walls around His cheerful shouts resound : No more the tyrant's malice shall he dread ; The tyrants' lavish hands no more Shall waste his treasured store ; No more their pride usurp his throne, ^ Low in the dust their hostile pride o*erthrowB» - ANTis. With dark and secret fraud hii coward mind The bloody deed designed. Revenge, with solemn steps and slow ' Advancing, meditates the secret blow; Daughter of Heaven's high Lord,, Tho* by the name of Justice known Her sovereign pow'r weak mortals own. She guides his hand, she points his thund'ring sword And rushing with impetuous might Assists him in the fight. Breathing destructive fury on his foe§. Nor less 'gainst her whose treach'rous hand This injur'd house profan'd, For his deep shrine with fury Phoebus glows. For e'en the Gods with sacred awe ^ Revere this righteous law, To spurn the guilt that asks their aid t And be this heav'n-commanding law obey'd* EPOD. Cheerful the light begins to rise. The Choephorae. * 265 Sunk was our sun, and long in darkness lay, Nor proniis'd the return of day : Soon may his beams revisit our sad eyes ! When these cleans'd floors no more retain Polluting murder's sanguine stain^ Time haply may behold his orient rays O'er these illumined turrets blaze ; And fortune, mounted on her golded seat, . ' Rejoice in our triumphant state. Rejoice to see our glories rise, And our unclouded sun flame o'er the sapphire skies. ORESTES, CHORUS. RES. Behold the proud oppressors of my country, The murderers of my father, the destroyers Of his imperial house: commanding awe When seated on their thrones, retaining yet Their loves, of their affection if with truth Hence we conjecture ought, and their oath stands Inviolate ; for to my father's death They form'd th' unhallow'd compact, and to die Together : these events confirm their oath. ■^ Behold again, you that attentive mark These ills, behold this artifice, the toils That tangled hand and foot my suff'ring father. This was his vestment, from a ring around it. Spread it, display it to th' all-seeing sun. That with his awful eye he may behold My mother's impious deeds, and in the hour Of judgment be my witness, that with justice My vengeance fell on her. As for iEgisthus, I reck not of his death ; a sacred law He dared pollute ; and justly has he paid The dreadful penalty. She 'gainst her husband, 2 m 266 The Choephorae. Once the dear 9bject of her love, to which Her swelling zone bore many' a precious pledge, Now flam'd with rancVous hate, and murd'rous malice. What noxious monster, what envenomed viper, That poisons with a touch ih' unwounded body, E*er breath'd such pestilent and baleful rage ? You view that vestment: tell me now, were all The pow'rs of language mine, what shou'^d I call it? Toils planted for a savage ? Or the bands That for the tomb enwrap the dead ? A curse Well may you call it, and the gives of Hell. Such may the pilferer wear, the thievish slave That pillages his guests, and trains his life To plunder; such the ruffian, whose rude hand Prompted to murd'rous deeds is stain'd with blood. Never, ye gods, may such a woman share My bed : No* rather childless let me perish ! ciioR. O horror, horror ! Dreadful were your deeds, And dreadful is your death; the ling'ring vengeance Burst with redoubled force. This was her deed, Her cursed deed : this vestment is my witness, Ting'd by ^gisthus' sword ; the gushing blood, Now stiffen'd, stains its tyrian-tinctur'd radiance. Now 1 applaud his just revenge; now weep. Viewing thii> bloody robe, and mourn these deeds. The sufF'rings of this house, and e'en this conquest. Dreadful atonement ! Never shall the life Of mortal man be pass'd uncharg'd with ills : On some with rapid ragcthe tempest rolls ; Slowly on some the gathering clouds advance. ORES. Be that another's care : 1 see the doom Assign'd to me. For as the rapid car Whirl'd from the course by the impetuous steed^ That scorn the reins, so my exulting heart The ehoephorae. 267 Bounds with tumultuous and ungovern'd passions. Yet let me plead, whilst reason holds its seat, Plead to my friends, that in the cause of justice I slew my mother ; for her impious hands, ;^ Stain'd with my father's blood, call'd down revenge From the offended Gods. And here 1 plead. To mitigate the deed, the Pythian prophet, Phoebus, whose voice pronounced me from the shrine, If I achieved the vengeance, free from guilt : To my refusal dreadful was his threat Of punishments, beyond the reach of thought. _ Graced with this branch of olive, and this wreath, I will approach his shrine, his central throne *, And his eternal fires, there to be cleans'd From the pollution of this kindred blood : No other roof receives me ; so the God Injoin'd. Meanwhile let A rgos be informed. And all this people witness, what a weight Of miseries oppress'd me : dead or living, * Jupiter, desiring to know the central point of the earth, sent from his thrune two eagles of equal wing in opposite directions; they flew round the globe, and met at Delphos, which was therefore called the central seat of Apollo, fjiia-o^fPa.Xov 'I^^v^jloL Ao^ioV : so the fable. Mythologists, m Etymo- logists, give a more rational account of the matter : Phurnutus, speaking of the Pythian oracle at Delphos, says, sXex^*) ^£ xai o to^tos o/xOaXo? T*j? yn?, cvx ^'i [Mfaixiracrog uv avT^S, ocXTC dvo TV? ava^j^o/ASvrjj iv ocvtu ojiA^»5f, rms Iri ^dx (pu}vr,.—J)e Nat. Deor. p. 226. -^The very ingenious Mr. Bryant will explain this to the English reader. •' The term Omphi is of great anti- ** ^uity, and denotes an oracular influence,by which people obtained an insight " into the secrets of futtiriiy. Hence the^O/*^*! of the Greeks. For these ora- " cles no place was of greater repute than the hill at Delphi, Called Omphi-El, " or the oracle of the sun. But the Greeks perverted these terms in a strange *' manner ; finding them somewhat similar in sound to a word in their own lan- " guage, their caprice immediately led them to think of 'O^^PaAo?, a navel, *• which they substituted for the original word, and presuming that Delphi was " the Umbilicus, the centre of the whole earth, invented the idle story of Ju- " piler and the t>Y0 eagles to support their idle notion,"— Analysis. Omphi, 26S The Choephorae. A vagrant, and an exile from my country, I leave these words behind rae ; having done What honour gave in charge, I shall not blush Hearing my fame reviled, nor bear in absence / The tongue of obloquy, the state of Argos Freed by this hand, that boldly crush'd these dragons.-*- Ha ! look, ye female captives, what are these Vested in sable stoles, of Gorgon aspect. Their starting locks tangled with knots gf vipers ! 1 fly, I fly ; I cannot bear the sight. CHOR. What phantoms, what unreal shadows thus Distract thee ? Victor in thy father's cause. To him most dear, start not at fancied terrors. ©RES. These are no phantoms, no unreal shadows; I know them now ; my mother's angry Furies. CHOR. The blood as yet is fresh upon thy hands. And thence these terrors sink into thy soul. ORES. Royal Apollo, how their numbers swell ! And the foul gore drops from their hideous eyes. CHOR. Within are lavers. Soon as thou shalt reach His shrine, Phoebus will free thee ftom these ills. ORES. And see you nothing there? Look, look I I see them. Distraction's in the sight : I fly, 1 fly. CHOR. Blest may'st thou be : and may the God, whose eye Looks on thee, guard thee in these dreadful dangers ! Thrice on this royal house the bursting storm Hath pour'd its rage in blood. Thyestes first Mourn'd for his slaughter'd sons. Th' imperial lord, The leader of the martial hosts of Greece, Next fell beneath the murd'ring sword, and stain'd Th' ensanguin'd bath. Then came th* intrepid youth Arm'd with the sword — of Freedom shou'd I say, Or fate ? — How long shall vengeance pour her terrors? When curb her fiery rage, and sleep in peace ? THE FURIES. PERSONS OP f HE DRAMA. THE PYTHIAN PRIESTESS APOLLO MINERVA THE QHOST OF CLYTEMNESTRA ORESTES CHORUS, THE FURIES. THE FURIES IT is pleasant enough to observe with what heat the critics rise against this tragedy. C'est si bizarre. — L'unit6 de lieu n'est pas gardee dans cette pi^ce : mais ce n'est pas-la qui choque le plus. — Tota oeco- nomia dramatis impia est et inepta. — Hie uno mo- mento tota scenae facies mutatur, et pro Del phis ac templo Apollinis Delphici habemus Athenas et tern- plum Minervas Athenis. Nihil ineptius aut incon- cinnius excogitari posset. — The poet, it seems, had dared to violate the unities ; and further has intro- duced personages of so extravagant a character as to baffle the skill of these literary martinets, and to whip them from their foining fence ; hinc ill as la- chrymae. jEschylus in all his other pieces that re- main to us has paid the strictest attention to these favourite unities ; and with reason ; he was their father, and knew their merit as well as any man; Even here, where his management of the subject led 27^ him to treat them with less respect, he has softened the violation by a kind of magic power : Apollo and the Furies must be allowed the liberty to transport themselves whither and when they please ; and Mer- cury has the charge of conducting Orestes ; so that had Horace wrote, Ille per extentum Funem mihi posse videtur Ire po'eta, meum qui pectus inaniter angit, Inritat, mulcet, falsis terroribus implet Ut magus, et modo me D E LPH IS, modo ponit A thenis, the allusion would have added a wonderful pro- priety to the expression, and the lines have conveyed a just character of this tragedy. However a French or a Dutch critic may be shocked at this change of scene, to an Athenian nothing could be more agree- able than to see a contest, which Apollo could not compose atDelphos, broughtbefore the great council of his own city, the God in person attending and pleading in the cause. That respect to his country, which distinguishes our noble poet above all the writ- ers of antiquity, has an irresistible charm, *' Rules, *' art, decorum, all fall before it. It goes directly " to the heart, and gains all purposes at once.'' The English reader feels this in its full force, and iEschylus is acquitted of the charge of having vio- lated an unity.-T-As these dreadful sisters were the ministers of the offended Gods, to execute their vengeance on impious mortals stained with blood, just, impartial, and of resistless power, they were §73 held In the hi^est reverence : as-they were cruel, implacable, and delighted with their terrible office, they were detested, and abhorred by Gods and men : this accounts for the very different treatment they here meet with. For the rest, let P. Brumoy be the poet's advocate. " On sent assez que les ^* traits rude et un peu grossiers de cette piece sont ** fort opposes a notre gout, et au vray gout du ** theatre. Mais il ne faut pas confondre parmi *' ces traits, ce qui regarde uniquement les moeurs *' et les idees des Grecs. Le ronflement des Fu- /* ries, et ce spectacle des monstres difformes, ne ** vaut du tout rien. Cependant, comme c'etoient *' des Divinit^s respectable pour les Grecs, ils les *' voyoient avec d autre yeux que nous. A plus *' forte raison devoient-ils ^tre moins choques de ** voir Apollon plaider pour Oreste, et Minerve *' jouer le r6le qu'elle joue. Tout cela ^toit dans ** leur genie ; et il est n6cessaire qu'on s'en rap- '^ proche autant qu'il est possible, pour ne pas trou- *' ver ridicule une tragedie qui ne 1 etoit certaine- *• ment pas au gout du peuple LE PLUS POLI ** DE L'UNIVERS." Had these critics explained the motives, which induced this venerable court to acquit Orestes, from the laws and usages of ancient times, they would have been better employed : but not a word of this. This curious inquiry was reserved for a writer of a very different genius ; and the reader ^74 will thank me for referring him to tSe notes on the Epistle to the Pisos, v. 127. This foul sisterhood on the Athenian stage, amounted to fifty : the consternation arising from their hideous figures, and gestures, and yellings,^ had such fatal effects upon the children et les femmes enceintes, that the state by an express law reduced the number of the Chorus to fifteen, and afterwards to twelve. But the translator dares assure the English ladies, for whom he has too great a respect to offer them any thing that can have the least tendency to hurt them, that they may read this play with the utmost safety. These ancient virgins are, to be sure, at first a little wayward, and rather outrageous ; but they soften by degrees^ till they become perfectly good-humoured, and the best company in the world. He flatters himself that he needs not make any apology for passing so slightly over ces ronflements redoubles des Furies, which are marked with great exactness in the original ; nor for an omission of somewhat a similar nature in the last scene of the PERSIANS. He has taken the liberty to change the position of a few lines, where the Furies quit the temple of Apollo: which to him appeared necessary. THE FURIES. Scene, the Vestibule oftheTEMiPLE of the Pythian Apollo. The PRIESTESS. With reverence first to th' Earth I pay these vows. The first prophetic pow'r : to Themis next, ' .Who next her mother held, they say, this seat Oracular : Titanian Phoebe then. She too the daughter of the Earth, unforc'd Assum'd this seat ; to Phoebus at his birth Rich gifts *5 in honour of the day, she brought, * The custom of making presents at the birth of a child is of high antiquity ; a passage from the Phormio of Tereijce is alleged to prove, that the eighth day after the tarth, on which the name was given, was esteemed the dies natalis, and that the presents were then oflfered ; but that passage clearly proves, that these gifts were presented on each day, Porro autem Geta Ferietur alio munere ubi. hera pepererit, Porro alio autem ubi erit puero natalis dies. At the birth only some female relations attended as assistants to LuciAa, and these came not empty-handed j on the other, the parents entertained their 276 The Furies. And grac'd him with her name; the Delian rock. The lake he left, and anchor'd in the port ^ Sacred to Pallas : thence to this fair region. And high Parnassus, held his solemn march : Attendant on his state the sons of Vulcan * With reverend awe prepare his way, and tame The rude and savage earth ; the joyful people Hail his arrival, and the sceptred Delphus, Lord of this realm, ador'd the passing God : With his own sacred skill high Jove inspir'd His raptur'd soul, and placed him on this throne, The fourth prophetic God, whence now he gives His father's oracles : To these 1 raise My first-breath'd vows* Nor less Pronaean Pallas -f* friends at a feast, the sacra repotia patrum, and the guests were liberal in their jpresents to the mother: in this sense probably we are to understand Homer, who says, that Delos upon the birth of Apollo was loaded with gold, X^vcruf y u^a AtiXos U^ruffn Hym. in Apoll. v. 135. * By the sons of Vulcan the Scholiast understands the Athenians, and tell$ us, that Theseus cleared the way of robbers : for which he is justly reproved by Pauw ; for how came the Athenians to be sons of Vulcan ? he then re- commends it to us to look in some dark corner, if haply something may there lie hid which may give light to this passage. Apollo found the country around Parnassus rocky and barren, Outs r^uyriipe^os, *i'Js»' ivnn^u'res, evr* siXtifzav, Hym. in Apoll. v. 529. Te cultivate this country, and to introduce the arts of polished life, was a work worthy of Apollo, and we find that it was soon done : as Vulcan was the God of fire, " which "lends its aid to every art," the workmen in the finer arts may properly be called his sops. Probably no deeper mystery lies here concealed. It appears from Callimachus and Pausanias, that Minerva had a shrine before the temple at Delphof: hence her title Pronaia. — St an lev* , The Furies. 277 Demands her 4need of praise. Next I adore The nymphs, that in Corycia's cavern'd rocks *, Lov'd haunt of soaring birds, in rustic state Have fix'd their residence ; tho' Bacchus claims 'j- The rude domain : my memory now recals With what a port he led his raging nymphs To havoc, when devoted Pentheus fled Affrighted, as an hare, before his hunters. The fountains next of Plistus, and the powV Of Neptune I invoke + : and lastly thee. Supreme, alUperfect Jove ! These rites perforniM, As Priestess of the Shrine I reassume My sacred seat. Frequented as of old i? Be this oracular fane ; and may the Gods Grant me auspicious answers : if from Greece Th' inquirers, pleas'd return they with the Fates! But my voice utters, what the God inspires. [She enters the Temple, and returns affrighted. • Things horrible to tell, and horrible To sight, have forc'd me from the fane again : Trembling with fear my lax limbs ill support My frame, save that my hands with eager grasp Uphold my sinking weakness as 1 pass. As to the shrine with many a garland crown'd I bend my age-enfeebled steps, beneath The central dome 1 see a man abhorr'd By the just Gods, a suppliant it shou'd seem, * The poet coulcj not ^yith propriety omit the mention of this remarkable cave in the Delphian rock : it was sacred to Pan and the Corycian Nymphs, the daughters of the river Plistus. — Stanley. t This shows, that the country was now cultivated. The story of Pentheus is the subject of the Bacchse of Euripides. % Neptune is here invoked, as having formerly been the lord of this coun» try, till he exchanged it for Calauria. — Scholiast* ^78 The Furies. For such his posture ; but his hands are stain'd With blood ; in one he holds a new-drawn sword, High in the other crown'd with ample wreaths An olive branch, with wreatjis of snowy wool Handsomely wrought : thus far I speak assur*d. Before him lies a troop of hideous women Stretch'd on the seats, and sleeping ; yet not women, But Gorgons rather, nor the Gorgon form Exactly representing, as 1 have seen them Drawn by the painter's imitative pencil. Snatching the viands from the board of Phineus*.- These have not wings ; but cloth'd in sable stoles, Abhorr'd and execrable; as they sleep Hoarse in their hollow throats their harsh breath rattles, And their gall'd eyes a rheumy gore distil. Ill suit such loathsome weeds the hallow'd fane Graced with the forms of sculptured Gods, ill suit I'he roofs of men : so foul a sisterhood Till now I never saw; no land can boast To have produced a breed so horrible. But toils, and groans, and mischiefs must ensue. But here Apollo reigns ; his awful pow'r Guards his own fane, auspicious to disclose / The dark decrees of Fate, to spread the glow Of vig'rous health,to breathe th' ambrosial gales And chase from other mansions all that hurts. The Temple opens. — Apoljo is seen. — Orestes as a suppHant. — Tlie FuRfEs in a deep sleep. A POL. No : 1 will not forsake thee : to the end * Phineus was king of Paeonia : being old and blind, and having lost his aans, his daughters, Pyria and Erasia, wasted his wealth in wanton riot: hence the fable, that the Harpyes snatched the viands from his table. — Paljcpha-. Tus. — It is observable, that the ancients in general, and particularly the ele- gant Athenianjs, most commonly represented the vices under the most dis- gustful forms, and gave the personified virtues the most beautifal and ami* able figures. The Furies. 279 My guardian care shall favour and assist thee Present, or distant far : but to thy foes 1 know not mercy. See this griesly troop, Sleep has oppressed them, and their" baffled rage Shall fail, grim-visag'd hags, grown old In loath'd virginity : nor God, nor man -Approach'd their bed, nor savage of the wilds ; For they were born for mischiefs, and their haunts J In dreary darkness 'midst the yawning gulfs Of Tartarus beneath, by men abhorr'd, And by th' Olympian Gods. Fly then, nor yield To weak distrust : they, be thou sure, will follow With unremitting chase thy flying steps Wide wandVing o'er the firm terrene, and o'er The humid sea, and wave-surrounded towns. But faint thou not, sink not beneath thy toils ; Fly to the city of Minerva, take Thy suppliant seat, with reverence in thy arms Grasp her time-honour'd image. Holding there " Concordant counsels, lenient of these ills, ' , We shall not want the means to heal thy pains. And ratify thy peace : for at my bidding Thy sword is purple with thy mother's blood. ORES. 'Tis not unknown to thee, royal Apollo, That I have done no deed of base injustice : This known, forsake not, slight riot my just cause : Strong is thy pow'r, and faithful to defend. APOL. Remember : let not fear unman thy mind. And thou^ my brother, by our ties of blood. Our common parent, I adjure thee. Mercury, Protect him : rightly if the name of guide Be thine, be thou his guide; defend my suppliant ; For Jove with reverence looks on mortal man. That awfully reveres our guiding pow'r. S80 The Furies. To the FURIES sleeping. The ghost of CLYTEMNESTRA. What, can you sleep ? Is this a time t* indulge * Your indolent r-epose ? Thro' your neglect I am dishonour'd 'mongst the dead, revil'd, For that I slew him with incessant taunts, And wander with disgrace : this infarpy, 1 tell you, is thro' you : my horrid sufFrings, From those most dear to me, excite no anger Of one offended God; yet 1 was slain By my son's hand. With thy mind's eye behold These wounds f : in sleep the vig'rous soul, set free From gross corporeal sense, with keener view "^ Looks thro' the fate of mortals, dimly seen Thro' the day's troubled beam. Oft' have ye tasted * To add to the horror of the scene, the ghost of Clytemnestra appears. She retains in death the fierce and implacable spirit which she possessed aHve J here indeed, for the religioas principles of the times, she had reason to be anxious for the punishment of Orestes, as without that revenge her shade could not appear with any dignity in the regions below; the death of Hector, and the insults on his body turn on this principle : even the tender and pathetic Virgil puts this sentiment into the mouth of the afflicted Evan- der, iEneid xi. Go, friends, this message to your lord relate; Tell him, that if I bear ray bitter fate, ^ And after Pallas' death live ling'ring on, 'Tis to behold his vengeance for my son. I stay for Turnus ; whose devoted head Is owing to the living and the dead : > - My son and I expect it from his hand ; "^^ 'Tis all that he can give, or we demand. < Joy is no more : but I would gladly go. To greet my Pallas with such news below. — Dryden. Accordingly the death of Turnus is a sacrifice to the manes of Pallas, ~ Pallas te hoc vulnere, Pallas Immolat, et pcenam scelerato ex sanguine sumit. t An ill-grounded dogma of the Pythagorean philosophy worse applied. ! The Furies. ^81 My temp'rate off 'rings mix'd with fragrant honey *, Grateful libations : oft' the hallow'd feast Around my hearth, at midnight's solemn hour, When not a God shar'd in your rites :^ but this, All this I see disparaged now, and scorn'd ; And he is fled, light as the bounding roe, Burst from your nets, with many a bitter scoff. Hear me, O hear! 'tis for my soul's repose I plead : rouse your keen sense, infernal pow'rs, 'Tis Clytemnestra calls you in your dreams. ^ Deep is your sleep ; meanwhile he distant flies : J ask your aid ; else not a suppliant comes To interrupt your rest : supine you lie In dead repose, nor pity my afflictions ; Meanwhile Orestes flies : shall he escape, The murd'rer of his mother ? Sound thy sleep, / And loud thy deep-drawn breath. Hast thou e'er done Ought, but fell deeds of mischief ? Rouse, awake : , The terrors of the dragon lose their force, Quench'd in the dark profound of toil and sleep, c HOR. Seize him there, seize him, seize him, take good heed, [asleep, CLYT. In dreams dost thou pursue him, like the hound That opens in his sleep, on th' eager chase I E'en then intent. And is this all? Awake, Arise: let not thy toil subdue thee ; know What loss ensues if sleep enfeebles thee ; And let these just reproaches sting thy mind, Incentives to the wise : with fiery breath, That snuffs the scent of blood, pursue this son. Follow him, blast him in the prosperous chase. fiHOR. Awake, arise: rouse her as I rouse thee. [awaking, • No wine was ever used in the libations to the Furies, therefore called vs?)«?noi a-'TTovdoti. These private and midnight rites to the Furies strongly mark the character of the Clytemnestra. 2 o 282 The Furies. Yet dost tbou sleep ? Leave thy repose; arise : Look we if this firm guard hath been in vain. Ha, sisters, ha! 'tis base, 'tis foul ; Vain is our labour, vain our care : This insult stings my tortur'd soul, Untaught contempt and vi^rong to bear. Whilst overpowVd with sleep I lay, Burst from the net escapes the prey. Great triumph, treacherous son of Jove, In youth's fresh prime to mock my age ! Thee cou*d this impious suppliant move (And thou a God) whose cruel rage Plung'd in his mother's breast his sword ? Yet thou hast screen'd the wretch abhorr'd, Clashing her scourge with hideous sound Reproach upon my slumbers stole ; Deep in my heart inipress'd the wound, E'en yet chill horror shakes my soql. These are the deeds in misrule's hour When youthful Gods usurp the pow'r. See all defil'd with gore thy throne, There sate the murd'rer dropping blood. Yet these pollutions are thy own ; From thee the call, the impulse flow'd : Such grace, despis'd th' age-honour'd Fates *, '^ Your new uuhallow'd shrines awaits. * Mr. Heath inclines to think, that respect is here had to Themis, whom, Apollo drove by force from the Delphic shrine: this learned person had forgot that Phoebe succeeded to Themis without any violence, ^iXova-ns, evVt v^os fiixvrtvos, and resigned in favour of Apollo, He has scarce hinted his opinion, but he wavers in it; and from what the Furies afterwards say, that Apollo had crushed the ancient power of the Fates, by deceiving them in the house of Pheres, is induced to believe, that the poet alludt^s to some fabulous - The Furies. 283 And shall this wretch in safety breathe, Screen'd by thy pow'r severe to me ; No : let him fly the earth beneath, ^ Never, he never shall be free : No : as he dared this murd'rous deed, ' Murder shall fall upon his head*. APUL. Hence, I command you, from my hallow'd seat Begone with speed ; quit this oracular shrine: This is no place to snatch your winged serpents, And hurl them from your golden-twisted string, To wring the black btood from the human heart With torture, then disgorge your horrid feast ' Of clotted gore : Such guests my house abhors. Begone where vengeance with terrific rage « Digs out the eyes, or from the mangled trunk Remorseless rends the head ; to slaughters go. Abortions, lurking ambush, rampir'd force. To suff 'rings, to impalements, where the wretch Writhes on the stake in tortures,' yelling loud With many a shriek : In feasts like these, ye hags Abhorr'd, is your delight ; sufficient proof That execrable form : the desert wild, Where the blood-rav'ning lion makes his den, tradition, which is lost jn the lapse of time. But surely all this perplexity might have been avoided, had this learned person recollected, that the Furies say of themselves, that Fate at their birth had assigned them this-office, to pursue the murderer with vengeance till he dies: Apollo therefore, by re- ^ ficuing Orestes from their power, had despised the age-honoured Fates, and violated their ancient decree. * Stanley rightly translates this, the sense of which is, Orestes, having been guilty of murder, shall find another equally guilty, who shall requite this on his head. Mr. Heath translates it thus, " since he is now polluted *• with blood, he shall draw another pollution, besides that, on Iris own head ;" this he explains as respecting the murder of Pyrrhus by Orestes, and refers us to the Andromache of Euripides. Nothing can be more foreign to the sense of the poet. 284 The Furies. Such shou'd inhabit ; nor with impure tread Pollute these golden shrines : begone, and graze Without a keeper ; for of such an herd Th' indignant Gods disdain to take the charge. CHOR. Now, royal Phoebus, heaj me speak : in this Not an associate art thou, but alone Thou didst this deed, and thine alone the blame. A POL. Why this to me? Inform me; but be brief. CHOR. Thy voice, pronounced from this oracular shrine, Injoin'd this wretch to shed her mother's blood. A POL. Injoin'd him to avenge his father's death. CHOR. To this strange murder proniis'd thy protection. A POL. I charg'd him to seek refuge in this shrine. CHOR. But these attendants thou with taunts insultest. A POL. Unworthy they t' approach this sacred seat. CHOR. Such was our charge : we come not uncommanded, A POL. What is that honour ? Make the glorious boast. CHOR. To drive the murd'rers of tlieir mothers hence. A POL. What, fav'ring her, whose bold hand slew her husband? CHOR. Nor shoi/d his h^nds be stain'd with kindred blood. A POL. The sacred pledges of connubial Juno * And Jove hast thou diparag'd, set at nought ; And Venus is disparaged by thy words. From whom the dearest joys, that sweeten life, Arise ; for hallow'd is the- nuptial bed, Of deeper sanctity than oaths, and guarded By justice, if to those, whose mutual rage Bathes in each other's blood, thy chast'ning hand * Apollo here speaks like the God of Wisdom; if Orestes was to be pursued with their vengeance, because he sle\v his mother, whilst they were favourable to that mother, though she had niiurdered her husband, they dishonoured Juno the goddess presiding over marriage, the Buptial treaties ratified by Jupiter, and the sweet endearments of Venus, more sacred than the oath with which the treaty was confirmed. V ' The Furies. 285 Is gentle; if thine eye looks milder on them, ' ^ _^ Nor flames with wrath ; unjustly does thy vengeance Pursue Oriestes ; such 1 now behold Thy threat'ning mein, to others more benign. But Pallas, righteous queen, shall judge this cause. / CHOR. But never, never will I quit this man. A POL. Pursue him then; tb toil add fruitless, toil. CHOR. Think not thy words shall make my rage relent. * A POL. Shall thy rage touch him ? No ; I brook it not. CHOR. At Jove's high throne thou art reputed great : Yet, since a mother's blood calls loud for vengeance, My keen pursuit shall trace him step by step, A POL. To me his vows are paid ; I will assist, And set him free : for dreadful were the wrath * / 'Mongst Gods and men, shou'd I betray my suppliant, f CHOR. That moves notme. — These are his marks ; observe them, Unerring guides, tho' tongueless : follow, follow, And, like the hound that by the drops of blood Traces the wounded hind, let iis pursue him. The Scene changes to the Temple of Minerva at Athens. ©RES. Hither, divine Minerva, by the mandate Of Phoebus am I come. Propitious pow'r, \ Receive me by the Furies* tort'ring rage Pursued, no vile unhallow'd wretch, nor stain'd ' With guilty blood, but worn with toil, and spent With many a painful step to other shrines. And in the paths of men. By land, by sea W^earied alike, obedient to the voice, ' Thy oracles of Phoebus, I approach ' Thy shrine, thy statue, Goddess; here to fi^ My stand, till judgment shall decide my cause. [Here the Furies enter.] CHOR. These toils oppress me, as with breathless has^e 286 The Furies. I urge the keen pursuit : o'er the long tract Of cgntinent, and o'er th' extended ocean, Swift as the flying ship I hold ray course, Tho' on no pennons born6. — There, there he stands, '- His speed outstripping mine. Have I then found thee ?" With joy 1 snutf the scent of human blood.— ^ake heed, take heed : keep careful w^tch ; nor. let This murderer of his mother once more 'scape. By secret flight, your vengeance : trembling, weak. He hangs upon the image of the Goddess, And.wishe.s to be clear'd of his base deeds. It may not be : no : when the fluent moisture Is sunk into the ground, 'tis lost for ever : Can then a mother's blood, spilt on the earth. Be from the earih recover'd ? No. Thy hour Of suff'ring is arriv'd, the hour that gives The purple stream, that warms thy heart, to quench My thirst, which burns to quaff. thy blood, and bend To the dark realms below thy wasted limbs ; There, for thy mother's murder, .^halt thou learn To taste of pain ; there see wliatever mortal Dar'd an injurious deed, profaned the Gods, x^tiack'd with ruflian violence the stranger. Or rais'd his impious hand against a parent. Each with vindictive pains condenm'd to groan, His crimes requiting ; for beneath the earth. The awful j udge of mortals, Pluto sits. And with relentless Justice marks their deeds. ORES. Train'd in affliction's rigid lore, 1 know Many ablutions : when to speak 1 know. When to be silent: inspiration now With heav nly wisdom prompts my tongue to plead The faded blood is vanish'd from my hands, ^0i: from my mother's slaughter leaves a stain ; . The Furies. 287 The recent crimson at Apollo's shrine Wash'd off with lavers pure, with offered victims Aton'd. * This honest prelude might be graced With many an argument : nor came I hither Consorted with a vile and impious band. AH tilings with time grow old, and wear away. And now from hallow'd lips my pious prayV, Invokes the power presiding o'er this realm, Koyal Minerva, that she haste to aid Her suppliant : so with voluntary zeal Myself, my country, all the A i give people, To her with justice [ devote for ever. If in the coasts of Libya, on the banks Of Triton *, native stream, she sets her foot Or bare, or buskin'd, prompt to aid her friends ; » What shall we say to the wonderful birth of this celebrated Goddess? Apollodorus gravely informs us, that Jupiter was enamoured of Thetis, and though the lady was coy, and changed herself into many forms to escape him, yet he obtained his desire. She told him, that if she now had a daughter, she would afterwards bring forth a son, who should enjoy the empire of the sky, Jupiter, finding her pregnant, and fearing, her prediction, to avoid it, fairly swallowed her: this was a trick he learned of his father: the pregnancy how- ever went on, though now it was transferred to the head of Jupiter, which in due time Prometheus, or as others say Vulcan, opened with an axe, and out leaped Minerva full-grown, and in complete armour. This was done on the banks of the Triton, a river of Libya, from whence Pallas is called Tritonia. Phurnutus tells us, that the lady's name was Metis, which signifies. Counsel : this helps him to a tolerable solution of the allegory, that Jupiter, only by following wise and prudent counsel, ^>jrjf xat tfunroi &v, obtained the«i sovereignty of the skies : Prometheus therefore was the more proper to assist at the birih. It is only in continuation of the same allegory, ijiat Minerva is ^aid to have assisted Jupiter in the decisive battle against the giants in the plains of Phlegra, in which her service was so conspicuous, that she obtained the name of ytyavro^ovris, the giant-killer. We are .the better reconciled to this strange faction, and to the explication of it, by the fine use to which Milton has applied it. 288 The Furies. If o*er the plains of Phlegra, like a chief That marshals his bold troops, she darts her eye> ^ Tier presence 1 implore; tho* distant far, The goddess hears ; to free me from these ills. CHOR. Nq: not Apollo, nor Minerva's powV Shall set thee free, but that an abject outcast Thou drag thy steps, seeking in vaui to find i ' Rest to thy joyless soul^ exhausted, worn, A lifeless shadow. Yet thy pride replies not. Me,' and my threats despising tho' to me Devoted, my rich victim, and alive To feed my rage, not ofifer'd on the altar. Hear now the potent strain, that charms thee mine, PROS. Quickly, sisters, stand around, Raise your choral warblings high ; Since, the guilty soul to wound, A ' Swells the horrid harmony. Since to mortal man we show How we give his fate to flow ; / Since our will his doom ordains, Show that justice 'mongst us reigns. He, whose hands from guilt are pure^ Stands in innocence secure ; And from youth to honoured age Fears not our vindictive rage. To the wBetch, that strives to bide ' ^ Ruffian hands with murder died, Cloth'd in terrors we appear, Unrelentingly severe ; And, faithful to the injur'd dead. Pour our vengeance on his head. STRO. I. Hear me, dread parent, sable-vested Night,, O hear th' avenger of each impious deed ; The Furies. '289 Whether we We in shades conceal'd *, Or to the eye of day reveal'd ! Seest thou how F^hnebus robs me of my right From my just rage the'trembling victim freed, Destin'd his mother's death t' atone,- And for her blood to shed his own ! O'er my victim raise the strain, And let the dismal somid - . T His tortur'd bosom wound, i\nd to frenzy fire his brain, * 'A7j.ae7(fi >ta) V^o^xoffi, Stanleius recte vertit cascis et videntibus : Inter- •^TQlAsGx^ci^Zffi xai^avavirtv\nc\)\.\\.} Pueri vicjent. Pa uw. Verara scripturaii), voivat, proculdubio nobis suggerit scholiastes, haec ita inlerpretatus l^uiffi xa) ^a.vov(riv tx^iKsv. Pauwius tamen miro stupore occae^ catus lectionem banc comraentitiam esse, nequc ex Scholiastaj verbis coUigi posse pronunciare sustinuit. Scholiastae autera assentior, appellatione caeco- runi et videntium designari mortuos ac vivos, quanquam iiiterpretationis hujus ineptiam vel pueros videre affirmat Pauwius. Sed talia quidem efFutire longe est facilliinuni, probatioriibus vero idoneis astruere non cujusvis forsan homi- pis. — Heath. ^ ' As the translator, by adhering to the interpretation of Pauw^, stands in the same predicament of a babbler blinded with wonderful stupidity, he must make his defence as well as he is able ; whether lie supports it with proper prqofs, the candid reader will judge. Jhe Furies in this very ode tell us, y that it was a task assigned them by the Fates to pursue the murderer as long as he lived, 0^^' av yav wiTsXSj? : but at his death their commission ended : ^schylus in many places tells us, that in the regions below the guilty person came under the jurisdiction of the infernal Jupiter: We are also told, that th'e Furies, in the execution of their office, sometimes appeared to the guilty, - as in the present case, armed with all their terrors ; and that they sometimes pursue him av^A/y XdfjtTrit, with silent ruin, equally investigable. Lt^Kofjtivotffi xai ^vffOfjLfiarois oftug. From these considerations the translator was induced to look on the Furies as the avengers of each impious deed, not to the living and the dead, but to those that saw them, or did not see theru, Whether they lie in shades conceal'd. Or to the eye of day reveal'd. 2 P 290 The Furies. Silent be the silver shell, Whilst we chaunt the potent spetl ;. Then yelling bid ih' infernal descant roll, / To harrow up my soul. ANTis. I. Avenging Fate, as bending o'er the loom She wove the v/eb, to us this part assigned, " Whoe'er the laws shall dare disdain, " And his rude hand with murder stain, " Pursue him Furies, urge his rigorous doom, V *' Till refuge in the realms he find." E'en there not free ; my.chast'ning powV Pursues him to that dreary shore. O'er my victim raise the strain, And let the dismal ^ound His tortur'd bosom wound, And to frenzy fire his brain. Silent be the silver shell, / Whilst we chaunt the potent spell ; Then yelling bid th' infernal descant roll. To harrow up his soul. STRo. 2. This task assign'd us at our natal hour, Far from th' immortal Gods our steps we bend : Nor welcome at the social feast, Nor honoured with a splendent vest; For mine I proudly claim the dreadful pow^r From its firm base the ruin'd house to rend, When in calni peace its ruthless lord Distains with a friend's blood his sword. Him, tho' strong, we rush to seize ; And for the new-pour'd blood Demand his purple flood. Glorying itt the sacrifice; Duteous hast'ning to remove . Cares like these from angry Jove; The Furie$. ^ 291 - And spare, whilst fierce for blood my vengeance flies, The terrors of the skies. IKTls.^. His wrathful eye Heav'n's mighty monarch rolls;, Awfully silent, on this blood-stain'd race. ''''', But all the gorgeous blaze of powV, Which trembling mortals here adore, When, mantled in these sable-shaded stoles, With blood-besprinkled feet we urge the chase, Sinks darkling to th' infernal shades. And all its boasted glory fades. ^ Near him, as he flies, 1 bound *, And when, with guilt opprest, - His weary steps .wou'd rest. Spurn him headlong to the groutid. Senseless he, perchance, and blind. Such the frenzy of his mind. Such the deep gloom guilt spreads around his walls, He knows not that he falls. EPOD. . • But shall sltelt'ring wall or gloom That from dark'ning guilt is spread, H ide him from his rigorous doom, Or protect his destin'd head ? Mine the vengeance to design. And to stamp it deep is mine. Sternly mindful of the crime. Nor by man appeas'd, nor time. When the wretch, whose deed unblest Dares profane high Heaven's behest, Tho' conceal'd from mortal eyes Thro' the, sunless darkness flies, • As the Chorus generally danced whilst they sung these odes, and the Athenians were excellent actors, we may be assured th?t the gestures, the ' bouudings of the Furies at this part were violent, and really horrible. 29^ ^ ^ The Furies. We pursue the rugged chase, And his dubious footsteps trace. Hear then guilty mortals, hear, And the righteous (jod revere ; Hear the task to me assigu'd, Fate the firm decree shall bind ; ! Mine the prize of old ordain'd, N^ver with dishonour stain'd, Tho' my drear abode profound Night and darkness cover round. MINERVA, ORESTES, CHORUS. MIN. It was a voice that calFd ; distant far I heard it, where Scamander laves the fields My ancient right : to me the Grecian chiefs With voluntary zeal assign'd this portion Of their rich conquest, ever to be mine, Selected as a gift tc the brave race * Of Theseus. With a speed that equals wings My vig'rous steeds thence whirl'd my car, the wind Against my jegis rustling as 1 pass'd. But who are these consorted here? Mine eye Views them unterrified ; but much I marvel. What, and whence are you ? To you all 1 speak, To him, the stranger, seated at my image. And you, whose hideous shape resembles nought Of mortal race, nor Goddesses in Heav'n Seen by the Gods, nor like the human form. But the deform'd to taunt with obloquy * After the destruction of Troy, Sigeum, in the division of its territory, was assigned to the Athenians, who built a temple on that promontory to their tu- telary goddess, Minerva. This had lately fallen into the hands of the Mity- Ifcnians. The poet, who was of a most generous spirit, and in all his trage- dies eniieavoured to inspire his countrymen with a military ardour, takes this opportunity to encourage them to recover that tract,- — Stanl^t* The Furies. 293 1 Is unbeseeming, justice starts at it. CHOR. Daughter of Jove,' take our report in brief. We are the gloomy progeny of night, ' Call'd Furies in the drear abodes below. MiN. l.knovv your race," and aptly added titles. CHOR. Soon shalt thou learn my honours, and my office. MIN. Sptak clearly then, without perplexing preface. CHOR. 'Tis ours to drive the murd'rers from the house. MIN. This all the vengeance to their guilt assign'd ? CHOR. Where they shall never taste or peace or joy. MIN. And does thy yelling voice thus drive him out ? ^ CHOR. He dared to be the murd'rer of his mother. MIN. Urg'd by the force of no necessity? -^ CHOR. What force cou'd urge the wretch to kill his mother r MIN. He hears but half, that hears one party only. CHOR. He wou'd refuse an oath, nor dares propose it*. MIN. Thy aim seems rather to obtain the fame Of justice, than to execute her laws. CHOR. How so? Inform me; thou art rich in wisdom. MIN. Deeds of injustice are not cleared by oaths. CHOR. Bear thou the c:>use, arid judge with righteous justice. MIN. Rests the decision of the cause on me ? CHOR. We reverence thee as worthiest 'midst the worthy. MIN. Say, stranger, what can'st thou reply to this ? Spe?ik first thy race, thy country, thy misfortunes; Then urge thy plea against this accusation ; Tf trusting in the justice of thy cause, Thus seated near my altar, thou embrace With reverend hands, a suppliant as Ixion f , ♦ This is said in allusion to the practice of the court of Areopagus, where in charges of murder both the accuser and accused were obliged to plead on oath. — Stanley from Lysias. t The ancients took every method reason and religion could suggest to impress an horror of shedding human blood : Hector could not even make £94 The Furies. My statue. Be thy answer short and clear. ORES. Royal Minerva, let me first remove What ihy last words, with much concern, suggest, I am not stain'd with blood, nor shall my hand Pollute thy statue : what 1 urge in proof Bears strong conviction. Him, whose hands are red With blood, the laws forbid to plead his cause, Till wiih its flowing gore the new-slain victim a libation of wine, because his hands were defiled with blooci, though it was the blood of enemies, whom he had slain in the noblest of all causes, the de- fence of his country, By me that holy office were profan'd; 111 fits it me, with human gore distain'd. To the pure skies these horrid hands to raise. Or offer heav'n's great sire polluted praise. II. Ti. Pope. For the same reason the pious jiEneas could not touch his Penates, though to snatch them from the flames of burning Troy, but consigns them to his father. Thou, thou, my sire, our gods and relics bear; These Hands, yet horrid with the stains of war. Refrain their touch unhallow'd till the day. When the pure stream shall wash these stains away. ^-Eneid. ii. Pitt. Hence their Tarious rites of purifications, their oblations and sacrifices. Under this idea the priestess of Delphos is shocked at seeing in the temple a man abhorred by the Gods, because his hands are stained with blood; and the Furies thus insult Apollo: See al! defiled with gore thy throne ; There sate the murd'rer dropping blood. Minerva is here apprehensive of this polhition to her temple ; this indeed It but hinted, and that with much tenderness, by the hare mention of Ixion. The famous Alexuncier Ross tells us, that " Ixion was the son of Plegias, who *' having rnurdert^d his father-in-law, went up and down the earth as a vaga- " bond, at last Jupiter , did pity him, and expiating his crime, received him " into Heaven." The concern of Orestes to remov* this suggestion shows, that he clearly understood the Goddess; and her answer expresses her satis- faction as to this point. The Furies. 295 Has made atonement, and the cleansing wave Restor'd his purity. In other shrines Long since these hallovv'd rites have been performed With offer 'd victims and the fluent stream. Blameless of this offence, I next declare My race : An Argive : nor to thee unknown My sire, the leader of the naval hosts, The royal Agamemnon ; for with him Thy conquering hand laid the proud walls of Troy In dust : returning to his house he perished By deeds of baseness; for my dark-soul d mother With various trains in private murder'd him ; Th' ensanguin'd bath attested the foul deed. I, then an exile, bending back my steps, Slew her that gave me birth ; nor shall my tongue Deny the deed ; it was a vengeance due To my lov'd father's shade : so Phoebus deem'd. Who urg'd me, and denounc'd heart-rending woes, Shou'd I shrink back refusing to avenge The guilt : but if with justice, be thou judge. To thy deciding voice my soul submits.' WIN. This is a cause of moment, and exceeds The reach of mortal man: nor is it mine To judge, when blood with eager rage excites To vengeance. 1 hou with preparation meet Hast to my shrine approach'd a suppliant pure, Without offence ; and to ipy favour'd city Uncharg'd with blame I readily receive thee. Let these, whose ruthless rage knows not the touch Of pity, not succeeding in tlieir plea, Retire awhile, till judgment shall decide The contest: from their breasts black' poison flows. And taints the sickening earth. Thus 1 pronounce ^96 The Furies. To each, unequal in this dubious strife To give content to both. But since to me Th' appeal is made, it shall be mine t' elect Judges of blood; their faith coniirm'd by oath^ And ratify the everlasting law. Prepare you for the trial, call your proofs, jArrauge your evidence, bring all that tends To aid your cause : I from the holiest men That grace my city will select to judge This cause with justice; men, whose sanctity Abhors injustice, and reveres an oath. CHORUS. 5TRO. 1. Confusion on these upstart laws ! Havoc with haughty stride Shall march, and wave her banner wide^ If venial be this bloody caitiff's cause. Impunity shall mortals lead To evVy savage deed, And prompt the son with rage unblest To plant the dagger in the parents' breast. I smile at all this lawless force ; Nor shall our dreaded pow'r In vengeance visit impious mortals more : No : let destruction take her destin'd course. ANTis. I. Whilst his own anguish one shall moan, He hears his neighbour tell, Appall'd, of deeds^as fierce, as fell ; Tear falls to tear, and groan succeeds to gr'oan. Nor shall the rolling storm of woe One gleamof comfort know. When anguish rends the tortur'd breasts Be not to us the mournful call addrest. The Furies. 297 "Where is your throne, ye Furies, where ""Justice," the father cries, Or the pale mother, as in blood she lies : But justice from her throne is exil'd far. STR0.2. . Yet are there hours, when conscious fear And the stern eye, that darts Severely thro' tlieir secret hearts, With sober counsels check their mad career. For when no r^y of lieavenly light Breaks thro' the sullen night, Dark deeds ensue, and virtue's pow'r . ' ' By man, by state is reverenc'd no more. Shall he, the wretch that scorns control, And spurns each sacred law, Or he that drags his chain with servile awe. Feel the sweet peace that calms the virtuous soul ? ANTIS.2. Placed in the midst does strength reside. With an indignant frown On each extreme the Gods look down ; Injustice is the child of impious pride. But all the joys, that life can know, From temper'd wisdom flow. To justice chief thy soul incline, And bow with reverence at her hallow'd shrine. Nor dare, allur'd by cursed gold. With foot profane and bold To spurn her altars : vengeance waits the crime. And arm'd with terrors knows her destin'd time. EPOD. Let each with awe profound A parent's honour d name obey : Each to thy milder voice, humanity, Attentive homage pay. When for the stranger thou art found \ Pleading thy strains of pious potency, 22 29a The Furies. He, that to virtue's lieav'niy powV Unforc'd his willing soul shall bovv, Nor ruin's tyrant rage shall know, Nor keen affliction's tort'ring hour. But he, that dares her sacred laws despise, Trampling on justice to amass his prey, Appall'd shall hear the tushing whirlwinds rise. And tremble at the storms that swell the sea. Wild with despair He pours his pray'r, Whirl'd in the giddy tempest round ; His blasted pride The Gods deride, And all his daring hopes confound ; Smile, as they view him rack'd with pain Bound in misfortune's iron chain ; As on the pointed rock they see him thrown. To perish there unpitied and alone. MINERVA, APOLLO, ORESTES, CHORUS. The JUDGES seated. MIN. Now, herald, let thy voice to all my people Proclaim attention : sound the Tuscan trumpet *, That its ear-piercing notes may fill the city, Commanding silence, and i^npressing awe Due to this great assembly ; that the state May learn my everlasting laws, and hear The righteous judgment that decides this cause. CHOR. Royal Apollo, where thy rule extends, * The Hetrurians were thought to have been the inventors of trumpets. In their towers upon the sea-coasts there were people appointed to be con- tinually? upon the watch both by day and night, and to give a proper signal if any thing happened extraordinary. This was done by a blast from a trum- pet.— Bryant's Analysis, vol, i. p. 405. \ Tlie Furies. 299 There lord it : but what right canst thou claim here V A POL. To give my evidence I come. This man Is at my shrine a suppliant, at my shrine He sojourns ; with ablutions * pute I cleans'd His stains of blood ; and now shall plead his cause, Our common cause, since for his mother's death Your accusations reach e'en me : but thou Urge, as thou canst, thy.plea : open the charge. MiN. This is incumbent on you ; open then The charge : th* accuser's voice must first explain Clearly thro' ev'ry circumstance the cause. CHOR. Tho' we are many, brief shall be our words. Now answer me in order, word for word. My first demand is. Didst thou kill thy mother? ORES. I did ; and never shall deny the deed. CHOR. First of the three this is one signal foil f . ORES. Unmov'd I stand, and thy proud vaunts are vain. CHOR. Declare it then at once, How didst thou kill her ? OHES. 1 drew my sword, and plung'd it in her breast. CHOR. At whose persuasion ? Or by whose advice ? * This is perfectly in conformity to the usage «f antiquity. Whoever re- ceived into his house a person polluted with blood, expiated him with ablu- tions, sacrifices, and the other necessary rites ; after which the stranger had a right to the most inviolable laws of hospitality. Thus Ixion, having beea expiated by Jupiter, had a claim to his protection. t In the Lucta, the victory was adjudged to him who gave his antagonist three falls : this is sufficiently attested by the epigram upon Milo, who, having challenged the whole assembly, and finding none that durst encounter him, claimed the crown ; but, as he was going to receive it, unfortunately fell down ; ■whereat the people cried out, that he had forfeited the prize ; then Milo 'Ev xEtjixaj, XoiTCov t oiXXoc fjt.s tIj ^ocXstu, Arose, and standing in the midst thus cry'd. One single fall cannot the prize decide, And who is here can throw me th' other two ? r , / Potter's Archwol. Griec. 300 The Furies. OB,ES. By HIS oracular voice : he will attest it. CHOR.The Prophet urge thee to this bloody deed ! ORES. Nor thus far have 1 to accuse my fate, x CHOR. Far other language the condemning vote Will teach thy tongue. ORES. My confidence is firm ; My father from the tomb will send me aid*' CHOR. Confidiilg in the dead, he slew his mother. ORES. Her breast was spotted with a double stain. CHOR. What may this mean ? 8peak, and inform thy Judges* ORES. She slew my father when she slew her husband*. CHOR. 2\nd yet thou livest : from that stain she's free. ORES. Why, whilst she liv'd, didst thou liot drive her out? / CHOR. She had 'no kindred blood with him she slew. , ORES. Is mine alliedthen to my mother's blood ? CHOR. How else, before thy birth, did she sustain, How nourish thee .? The murd'rous wretch disowns That dearest of all ties, a mother's blood. ©RES. JSow let me call thy testimony; now ■ > Declare, Apoilo, if 1 slew her justly : For that I slew her, in such circumstance, I not deny : if rightfully, or not, Decide, that 1 to these may plead thy sanction. APOL.. To you, the great and reverend council here Plac'd by Minerva, will I speak, and truly ; For never shall the God of Prophecy Pronounce ^ falsehood ; never have 1 utter'd From my oracular seat to man, to woman, , Or state, save what the great Olympian Siref • . * When she slew her husband, she slew my father, and thus in one act was guilty of a double murder.- By the law, which the Romans borrowed from Greece, the father and the son are esteemed as the same person, purer et film Imii* liter pro una persona. By this judicious observation of Pauw, we coiUj)ietHnd llie meaning of the answer in the next line. t 1 he Priestess of the temple of DelpHos had before informed ,us, that Ju- > : ^ The Furies. 501 Shall liave commanded. Of his sovereign justice Learn you the force, and bow to his high will ; , Nor deem an oath of greater pow'r than Jove. CHOR. This oracle, thou say'st, was dictated By Jove, to charge Orestes, whilst his hand Was arm'd with vengeance for his father's murder. To pay no reverence to his mother's blood. APOL. OY higher import is it, when a man lUustrioiis for his virtues, by the Gods Exalted to the regal throne^ shall die, Die by a woman's hand, by one that dares not-- Bend, like an Amazon, the stubborn bow. But hear me, Pallas, hear me, you that sit In awful judgment to decide this cause. Victorious from the war, with glory crown'd. And gi^ced with many' a trophy, at the bath She smilingly receiv'd him ; there refresh'd. As o'er his head he threw the splendid robe Prepar'd t' entangle him, she slew her husband. '^ So ditid the chief, the glorious, the rcnown'd, The leader of the warlike troops of Greece : Arid such 1 speak this woman, reverend Judges, To strike your souls with horror at the deeds. CHOR. So Jove, it seems, respects the father's fate ; Yet on his father he cou'd bind the chain, piter himself had inspired Apollo with his prophetic skill ; and this God af- terward? demands revereuce to his oracles as the voice ot japiter. Virgil •was too well vfised in antiq^ui'.y to omit such a circumstance ; hence his ill- omened propholess, to give the greater dread to her prediction, says, Quffi Pltoebo pater omnipotens, raihi Phopbu's Apollo - . ' Prrndixit, . ' Virgil might possiofy take this from ^schylns, as Macrobius affirms; or both might draw it from the everlasting fountain of Homer, who makes Apollo say at his birth, X^AiVw r otv^^TtCKTi Aiof vM^E^Tsa ^QvKnv, — Hymn. v. 132. 302 The Furies. The hoaiT Saturn: that his deed gainsays Thy words : 1 pray you mark the poor evasion. APOL. Detested hags, th' abhorrence of the Gods! He cou'd unbind these chains, and the release Has a medicinal pow'r. But wheli the blood, That issues from the slain, sinks in the dust, It never rises more. For this my sire No remedy admits," in all besides With sovereign pow'r or ruins or restores. CHOR. See with what ill-judg'd zeal thy arguments Labour t' absolve him ! Shall the wretch, whose hand Spilt on the earth the kindred blood that flow'd Within his mother's veins, return to Argos Lord of his father's house ? Before what altar. Sacred to public ofFrings, shall he bend f What friendly laver shall admit his hands ? APOL. This too shall 1 explain ; and mark me well, If reason guides my words *. The mother's power Produces not the offspring, ill call'd hers. No : 'tis the father, that to her commits The infant plant ; she but the nutrient soil That gives the stranger growth, if fav'ring Heav'n * The righteous Pauw is higlily offended at the irapiety of this tragedy : one cannot but smile to see with what zeal he enters into the interests of these ■ hideous sisters, as if he were enamoured of them. This passage gives hinj great offence : Ad hsec ego nayiseo hie : Nexum considera : Sic ineptias inep- tissimas tibi deprehendes slatim : haec tamen philosophica videbantur Slan- leio. Stanley had too just a taste to judge of*" ancient sentiment by modern manners, or more enlightened knowledge. Wretched sfi this sophistry is, it certainly was at that time held as deep philosophy ; otherwise the learned Euripides, wlio was not generous towards ^Eschylus, would not have put this sentiment into the mouth of Orestes in his plea to the father of Clyterar neslra, My father was the author of nvy being ; TIij (iuughter brought me forth : he gave me life, ^hich she but foster'd : to the higher cause An higher reverence then I deem'd was due,— Elect.. The Furies. 303 J , ^ ■ Denies it not to flourish : this I urge In proof, a father may assert that name Without a mother's aid : an instance sits . ' Minerva, daughter of Olympian Jove ; Not the slow produce of nine darkling months, But form'd at once in all her perfect bloom : Such from no pregnant Goddess ever sprung. Thy state, thy people, Pallas, be it mine ; ,, T* exalt to glory, and what else of greatness 1 know to give. This suppliant to thy shrine 1 sent, assuring his eternal faith ; Thy votary he, and his descendants thine, From sire to son thro' all succeeding ages. MIN. The pleas are urg'd : these now I charge to gi^^ Sentence, with strict regard to truth and justice. CHOR. We have discharged our shafts : and now I wait- To hear what sentence shall adjudge this cause. MIN. What, am I never to escape your censure ? CHOR. Give what you've heard due weight ; and with pure hearts Pronouncing sentence reverence your high oath. MIN. Ye citizens of Athens, now attend, Whilst this great council in a cause of blood First give their judgment. But thro' future ages This awful court shall to the hosts of ^geus With uncorrupted sanctity remain. Here on this Mount of Mars* the Amazons Of old encamp'd, when their embattled troops March'd against Theseus, and in glitt'ring arms ^ * Nothing in general is more uncertain than the origin of places, and the reason of their names : when this is lost in the obscurity of time, what re- inains to the antiquarian, but to analyse the word, and from thence deduce the cause? Our modern niythologists are supremely knowing in this process ; i^emo.te ages v/ere not unacquainted with it. Our poet however has the ad- dress even on this slight foundation to build up a pleasing compliment to his countrymen. 304 The Furies. Breath'd vengeance ; here their nevv-aSpiring towVs Kais'd high their rampir'd heads to sldrm his tovvVs y And here their hallo w'd altars rose to Mars : Hence its illustrious name the cliff retains, The Mount of Mars. In this the solemn'state Of this majestic city, and the awe* That rises thence shall be an holy guard Against injustice, shall protect the laws Pure and unsullied from th* oppressive povv'r Of innovation, and th' adulterate stain Of foreign mixture : Shou'd thy hand pollute The liquid fount with mud, where wilt thou find The grateful draught ? Let not my ci^tizens Hiot in lawless anarchy, nor wear The chain of tyrant pow'r, nor from their state Loose all the curb of rigour : this remov'd, ^ j What mortal man, uncheck'd with sense of fear, Wou'd reverence justice ? Let the majesty, V That here resides, impress your souls with awe ; Your country has a fence, your town a guard, ; Such as no nation knows; not those that dwell Jn Scythiaf, or the cultur'd realms of Pelops : This court, superior to th' alluring glare Of pestilent gold, this court, that claims your awe Severely just, 1 constitute your guard, Watchful to shield your country and its peace ; These my commands to ev'ry future age * This whole charge of Minerva is worthy of the Goddess of Wisdom. B • celebraliug the high aiiiiquitj of the temple, its honourable foundation, the dignity of ijie court, the authority and uupartiuhty of its sentence, the pu- rity and supeHor excellence of the laws, she inspires that reverence to tlie laws, and the administration of them, which constitutes the firpiesl security of obe.dience and govd manners. t B5^ this mention-of Scythia the poet alludes to Anacharsis, the celebrated lawgiver of thai country, colcnipoiury with holou. The Furies. 305 .1 - .; Have I extended. Now behoves you, judges, Give test of your integrity ; bring forth The shells ; with strictest justice give your suffrage, And reverence your high oath. This is my charge, gHOR. Nor of their honours rob this train, whose pow'r Is dreadful in the drear abodes Jbelow. , ^ APOL. And be my oracles, the voice of Jove, Rever'd, nor seek to move their firm decree. CHOR. Beyond thy charge protecting deeds of blood. Nor reverend are thy oracles, nor pure. APOL. Think of the expiation, which of old Ixion made for blood : wilt thou arraign My falher*s councils there ? Or slept his wisdom ? ciiOR. Thou say'st'it : but if justice fails me here, This land shall feel the terrors of my vengeance. '' APOL. Unhonour*d thou by ev*ry powV of Heav'n, Or young, or old, to triumph here is mine. CMOR. Such in the house of Pheres* were thy deeds, When, won by thy alluring voice, the Fates ^ On mortal man conferred immortal honours. APOL. To aid, to grace the pious, when their pray'rs Rightly invoke our influence, is just. eiloB. What, hast thou crush'd the powV of ancient Fate, -^ And wouMst thou now delude our honour'd age \ A pot. Soon shall thy mahce, baffled in this cause, Shed its black venom harmless to thy foes. * Adnietus, tire son of Pheres, asked Alcestis in marriage j her father con- sented on this hard condition, that he should yoke a lion and a boar to his chariot : he addressed his tows to Apollo and Hercules, and by their aid ren- dered the savages gentle. Some time after, Adraetus, being dangerously ill* again addressed his vows to Apollo ; the God refused his salutary aid, but upon condition, that one of his near relations would devote himself to a vo- luntary death for him : this Alcestis did : Hercules, being then on his expe- dition to bring Cerberu? from hell, brought back Alcestis to her husband. — FuLGENTius. — Whether the poet alludes to this story, or to some other with which we are not acquainted, theiearned reader will judge. 2b 306 The Furies. CHOR. Since thy proud youth insults my hoary years, I wait th' event in silence, and suspend The fury of my vengeance on this city. WIN* Last to give suffrage in this cause is mine : In favour of Orestes shall I add My vote ; for as no mother gave me birth, My grace in all things, save the nuptial rites, Attends the male, as from my sire I drew The vigour of my soul. No woman's fate, \ Stain'd with her husband's blood, whom nature form'd Lord of his house, finds partial preference here. Orestes, if the number of the votes Be equal, is absolv'd. Now from the urn Let those among the Judges, to whose honour This office is assign'd, draw forth the lots. ORES. O Phoebus, what th' event that waits this cause ! CHOR. O Night, dark mother, thro' thy sable gloom Seest thou these things ? Now on the doubtful edge Oi black despair I stand, or joyful light, , Driv'n out with infamy, or grac'd with honours. A POL. Now, strangers, count the lots with righteous heed, And with impartial justice sever them. Ojie shell misplac'd haply brings ruin, one May raise again a desolated house. MIN. He is absolv'd, free from the doom of blood, For equal are the numbers of the shells. ORES. O thou, whose tutelary pow'r preserv'd The honours of my house, thou, Goddess, thou Hast to his country and his native rites Restor'd this exile ; and each Greek shall say. This Argive to his father's throne returns ; So Pallas wills, and Phoebus, and the God All-pow'rful to protect : my father's death ' He mark'd severe, and looks indignant down The Furies. ' 307 f On those that patronise my mother's cause. First to this country, and to this thy people Thro' time's eternal course I pledge my faith, And bind it with an oath : now to my house J bend my steps : never may chieftain thence Advance against this land with ported spear. If any shall hereafter violate My oath now made, tho* then these mould'ring bon©8 Rest in the silent tomb^ my shade shall raise Invincible distress, disasters, toils. To thwart them, and obstruct their lawless march, \Till in dismay repentant they abhor Their enterprise. But to the social pqw'rs That reverence this thy state, and lift the lance In its defence, benevolent shall be My gentler influence. Hail, Goddess ; hail, Ye guardians of the city ; be your w'alls Impregnable, and in the shock of war V ^ May conquest grace the spear that aids your cause ! CHOR. I burst with rage. With cruel pride These youthful Gods my slighted age deride ; And, the old laws disdaining to obey. Rend from my hands my prey. Tortur'd with grief's corroding smart, And taught disgrace and scorn to know, ^ Distilling from my anguish'd heart The pestilential drop shall flow : Where'er it falls, nor fruit around. Nor leaf shall grace the blasted ground ; Thro' the sick air its baleful dews A caustic venom shall diffuse ; And breathing on this hated race With deep rough scars the beauteous form deface. 308 The Furies. Vainly shall I heave my sighs^ Or bid my angry vengeance rise ? To insults, which my bosom rend, Vulgar spirits scorn to bend ; And shall thy daughters, awful Night, in vaia Of their disgrace complain ? MIN. Let my entreaties move you ; bear not this With such deep anger ; for no conquest here Wounds your insulted honour : from the urn The lots came equal, so dispos'd by truth, To thee no insult ofFring ; and from Jove Flow'd splendid signs : he gave the oracle, He added his high test, that for the deed Orestes shou'd not suffer. Breathe not then Yourr heavy vengeance on this land ; restrain Your indignation ; o'er these sick'ning fields Drop not your pestilential dews, nor blast Their glittVing verdure, and their springing seeds. And here I pledge my faith, this grateful land Shall willingly receive you, raise your seats High at their blazing hearths, and, with deep awe * Imprest, pay reverend honours to your powV. CHOR. I burst with rage. With cruel pride These youthful Gods my slighted age deride j And, the old laws disdaining to obey. Rend from my hands my prey. Tortur'd with grief's corroding smart, And taught disgrace and scorn to know, Pistilling from my anguish'd heart The pestilential drop shall flow : Where'er it fells, nor ffuit around, Nor leaf shall grace the blasted ground ^ Thro' the sick air its baleful dews A caustic venom shall diffuse ; The Furies. 309 And breathing on this hated race With deep rough scars the beauteous form deface. Vainly shall 1 heave my sighs, Or bid my angry vengeance rise ? > To insults, which my bosom rend, Vulgar spirits scorn to bend : And shall thy daughters, awful Night, in vain Of their disgrace complain ? WIN. No, you are not disgraced ; nor let your wrath, Immortal as you are, to mortal man Spread desolation o'er the earth. 1 too Prevail with Jove. And wherefore shou'd 1 say , Of all the Gods I only know the keys* That ope those solid doors, within whose vaults His thunders sleep ? Of these there is no need. 3y rne persuaded, let ihy hasty tongue Forbear those threats, from which no fruit can flow. But ruin to the earth : compose that rage, * This is a very curious passage, as it informs us that Minerva alone, of all the Gods, had the command of the thunder of Jupiter: hence the learned Virgil, Ipsa Jovis rapidum jaculata e mibibus ignem. ^n. i. V, 46. She, for the crime of Ajax, from above Launch'd thro' the clouds the fiery bolts of Jove. — Pitt. At the same time it contains an oblique threat of the severest nature, but con- veyed in the gentlest manner; shewing, that she waved her power to force their compliance, and condescended to entreat, and giving an example of that placability to which she endeavoured to persuade these angry powers. As this foul sisterheod was driven from the society of the Gods, admitted to no feast, nor suffered to abide in any temple, this offer of Minerva was very advantageous to them, and did them the greatest honour ; and, as it was urged with the gentlest and most insinuating courtesy, it is no wonder that they suffered themselves to be prevailed upon to accept it. From their consent to abide here as friends, their harsh name of Erinnyes was changed to E^irae- nides. 510 The Furies, Whose swelling tide overflows all bounds, with me In the same mansion, ;md with equal honours Kever'd, enjoying thro' these ample realms The prime oblations, victims doom'd to bleed For blessings on the birth, or nuptial hour, That thou hhalt thank me for this friendly counsel, CUOR. Shall I brook this ? Shall I then deign In this curs'd land to spend my slighted age. i\nd my lost honours mourn in vain? No : be each vengeful thought inflamed with rage. Ah me, the keen, the madd'ning smart 1 Deep, deep it cuts, it rends my heart. Hear, j^wful Night, my raving passion hear ! These Gods, with a malignant smile, jAh nie ! my baffled powV beguile, And from my brows the public honours tear. MiN. Thine anger will I bear with, for thy years : Are more than mine, thy wisdom more; tho' Jove Hath with no niggard grace on me bestow'd A prudent sense. You yet are strangers here ; But f foresee, wheli once your seats are fix'd, These scenes will be delightful, and the flow Of future years to the inhabitants Roll more abundant honours. Where Erectheus Rais'd high his regal structures, thou shall hold Thy residence, receiving from the men, And/rom the train of females, such high honours As mortals never paid thee. Cast not then On these my realms the pestilent bane, that fires Beyond the rage of wine the frantic youth To wild ensanguin d slaughter : in their hearts Pour not the fury of the crested cock. Exciting discord, broils, and civil war. To foreign wars, when dangers threaten nigh,. The Furies. 311 Let glory lead their arms : domestic strife Is hateful to my soul : bethink thee well, Thou hast thy choice, by courtesy to Crown with love the bridal day. 2 s 314 The Furies. . You, that to tbe Fates allied * Claim this just and ample powV ; You, that o'er each house preside. Sovereign rulers of each hour; Goddesses, with holy dread Whose high state mankind revere. Here your softest influence shed, - ; Here extend youi" guardian care. MiN. This ready zeal accorded to my country Delights nie ; and with ardour must I love Gentle persuasion, that hath tuned my voice To move them from their stern and fierce resolves. The pleading voice of Jove hath here prevail'd ; And my warm efforts in the cause of mercy Extend their triumph thro' all future time. CHOK. Ne'er may discord's hideous pow'r Here unsated stalk its round : Slaughter ne'er with kindred gore \ Madly drench the thirsty ground; \ * Hesiod, recounting the progeny of Night, says, K«'; [xol^ocg x.ccl KYi^ixq lynvocro vnXsoTroivovg, ~ " Teivofjisvoiai, ^i^Sa-iv sx'-^v Myoc^ov te Ka,kov te. — Theog. v. 217. She gave birth to the Fates and the merciless Destinies, Clolho, Lachesis, and Atiopos, who assign 1o mortals at their birth good and evil — It may not perfjaps be easy to distinguish precisely the ditferent offices of these kindred powers : by the Fates was designed a secret and immutable series of events necessarily flowing from their causes ; and their firm decrees extended over Gods and men, a^; we learn from Phurnutus and Sallust tbe philosopher. The Destinies had their direction over human life, influencing the birth, the pre- sent, and the future fortune of mortals, So that the Jates seem more pecu- liarly to have presided over nations and cities, the Destinies over individuals. . The Furies. 315 Whilst revenge in barb'rouS pride Shakes the streets with thundVing tread, Blood for blood demands, and wide Joys the mutual rage to spread. But to anion's soft command May their minds harmonious move ; ^ ^ Leagu'd in war, a friendly band ; ' - Tun'd 4n peace to social love. > -_ MiN. So the mild accents of the soothing tongue, Attun'd by wisdom, win their easy way : And to this people from these horrid forms I see much good. With gentle courtesy Their courtesy requiting, always own'd *< ' By acts of highest reverence; you, whose'care Is watchful o'er this country and this seat . Of justice, all shall reap the meed of gloryv. CHOR. Hail, with wealth, with glory grac'd, Citizens of Athens, hail ! ^ Next to Jove in glory plac'd, U ' \ Never may your honours fail! . / ' Trained to wisdom's sober lore^ Favour'd with Minerva's love, Guarded by her virgin pow'r, ^ • \. Diear thro' her to sov'reign Jove, MIN. And you all hail ! But be it mine to show y The place assign'd you for your residence. Go to those sacred flames, they will conduct you. And from these h^illow'd vicfiajs smk wiih speed - To the dark shades below; imprison there 316 The Furies. Whatever is Hoxious to these realms ; whate er Has influence to bless tHem, send in triumph. And you, high-lineag'd guardians of the state. Attend these stranger-guests to their new seatSj^ And be each gentle tho\.ight attun'd to good. CIIOH, Once more hail, and hail again, '' i ^ All that here have fix'd your seat ; \ Mortal and immortal train. Guardians of Minerva's state ! Here your residence I share. ' To my pow'r due homage pay, Ne'er shall woe or sullen care ■ . , Cloud with grief life's golden day. MiN. I like these votive measures; and will send - The bright flames of these splendor-shedding torcheS5^ With those that guard my hallow'd image here. Attendant on you to the dark abodes Beneath the earth. And let th' Athenian train. The grace, the glory of the wide-stretch'd world, • " Thejr manly youth, their virgins' roseate bloom, , And their age-honour*d matrons, now advance. Array 'd in richest venture darting round Its vermeil-tinctur'd radiance ; let the torches Blaze, that this sable troop thro' future times ' May shine conspicuous for their friendly aid* The ATTENDANT TRAIN. Remove then from this hallow'd fane. Daughter of Night, remove your virgin train : With festal pomp, and solemn tread, P^verend your awe-commanding state we lead. The Furies. 317 Breathing blessings o'er this land, , . ' Seek your ancient caves below. Leading Fortune in your hand, Breathing blessings as you go. For you the altars rise, the victims bleed. And sacred honours are decreed; For you the rich libations dew the ground, Whilst torches spread their blaze around. Go, in your glory then rejoicing go ; Go, and lead the Fates along, s^ Joining in this votive song ; Whilst on this city from his throne on high , / Jove propitious bends his eye. Go then ; and as you move your friendly train, Responsive to this warbled strain JJarmonious bid your swelling voices flow. THE PERSIANS. THE . PERSIANS. JN O representation can be conceived more agrec- - able to a brave and free people, than that which sets before their eyes the ruin of an invading ty- rant defeated by their own valour ; and no poet could ever claim the right of making such repre- sentation with so good a grace as iEschylus, who had borne a distinguished part in the real scene, , Animated by his noble subject, and the enthusiasm with which he loved his country, he has here dis- played all the warmth and dignity of his genius, but tempered at the same time with so chastised a judgment, that we are surprised to see the infant drama come forth at once with all those graces which constitute its perfection ; it is Hke his own Minerva, that sprung from the head of Jupiter, Then shining heav'nly fair, a Goddess arm*d, \ Besides this wonderful management of the parts, the poet has the delicacy to set the glory of hii St 322 countrymen in the brightest view, by puttipg their praises into the mouths of their enemies. Not sa- tisfied with a spirited narration of their defeat, and a recital of the many royal chiefs that perished in that battle ; not satisfied with spreading the terror through all the realms of Persia, and placitig them in a manner before our eyes in all the distress of desolation and despair ; he hath interested even the dead, and, with the awful solemnity of a rehgious incantation, evoked the ghost of Darius to testify to his Persians, that no safety, no hope remained to them, if they continued their hostile attempts against Cireece; so that his sublime conception hath en- , gaged Earth and Sea, Heaven and Hell, to bear honourable testimony to the glory of his country- men, and the superiority of their arms. This tragedy was exhibited eight years after the defeat at Salamis, whilst the memory of et^ch cir- cumstance was yet recent • so that we may con- sider the narration as a faithful history of this great event. The war was not yet ended, though the Persian monarch had offered to make, the most humiliating concessidns, and the Athenians were inchhed to accept them ; but Themistocles opposed the peace. So that w6 are further to consider this play in a political light; the poet, by so animated a description oPthe perniciou'* effects of an obsti- nate^ pride, and by filling the spectators u ith a ma- lignant compassion for the vanquished Xerxes, in- ' " , ^ \-' 323 directly undisposing his countrymen to a conti- nuation of the war. Thus every thing at Athens, even their shows, had a respect to the public good. This is a fine remaik of P. Brumoy. The scene of this tragedy is at Susa, before the ancient structure appropriated to the great council ^f state, and near the tomb of Darius, \ ', PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. ATOSSA MESSENGER GHOST OF DARIUS XERXES CHORUS, THE COUNCIL OF STATE. THE PERSIANS CHORUS. Whilst o'er the fields of Greece th' embattled troops Of Persia march, with delegated sway We o'er their rich and gold-aboiuiding seats Hold faithful our firm guard ; to this high charge , Xerxes, our royal lord, th' imperial son • Darius, king of Petaia, having demanded the daughter of Jancyrus, king of the European Scythians, in marriage, and not obtaining the lady, was so highly offended, that he marched with a great army to revenge the affront ; but succeeding ill against the Scythians, on his return he sent Datis and Ar- taphernes with an array of two hundred thousand foot, and ten thousand horse, to subdue Greece; they. had advanced within ten miles of Athens, which had particularly displeased the Great King, when Miltiades, at the head of nine thousand Athenians, and one thousand Plata^ans, met them in the plains of Marathon, and gave them battle. Datis drew one hundred thousand foot and all his horse into the field ; but die Persians were totally defeated, and fled to their ships with great precipitation. To revenge this disgrace, Xerxes, the son of Darius, invaded Greece in person, with one thou- sand two hundred ships of war, and two thouhand transports; his land forces C4»nsisiing of seven hundred thousand foot, and four hundred thousand liorse: these, with the retinue of women and servants that attended the Asiatic princes in their military expeditions, amounted to more than five millions.^ 326 ' The Persians. ^ Of great Darius, chose our honour'd age. But for the king's return, and his arm'd host ' Blazing with gold, my soul presaging ill Swells in my tortur'd breast : for all her force Hath Asia sent, and for her youth 1 sigh. Nor messenger arrives, nor horseman spurs With tidings to this seat of Persia's kings. Xerxes, .having forced the pass of Thermopylae, marched into Attica, which he wasted, and finding Athens deserted, set it on fire. The Grecians had retired wilh all their effects to Troezene and Salamis ; here Tliemistocles with three hundred ships destroyed the Persian fleet ; their supplies of provision being hereby cut off, the land forces attempted to' make their rejtreat through Ba-otia and Tliessaly to Thrace, but most of thera perished by the sword, fa- mine, and pestilence. The battle of Plataea cut off the remains of this for- midable armament, and secured the liberty of Greece. Such is the noble subject of ihis tragedy. For this account we have the testimonies of Hero- dotus, Isocrates, Diodorus the Sicilian, Plutarch, Cicero, Justin, Nepos, and others: yet a late ingeraous writer has undertaken, from the silence of the Persian history, to disprove them all ; " can any man, who has made the " least observation on history, he asks, suppose for a moment that such my- " riads could by any iheans have been maintained in one collected body ?"— * History tells us, that they perished chiefly through famine, and ita attendant the pestilence. He says, " ihe destruction of such a number would have con- " vulsed the whole of Asia, had it been united under one empire; could it "possibly have been unfelt in Persia ?" — Was it not severely felt ? He thinks, that "the States of Greece appear in reality, with regard to the Persians, to " have been too far removed from that degree of importance, which could " hold them up as objects of such high ambition, or of such mighty resent- " ment. These famous invasions Ivave, therefore, an appearance of being ** simply the movements of the governors of Asia Minor, to regulate or enforce " a tribute which the Greeks migl]t frequently be willing to neglect. Ma- " rathon, Salamis, and other celebrated battles^ may indeed have been real " events; and thte Grecian writers, to dignify their country, TOot/ have turned " hyperbole into historic fact, and swelled the thousands of the Persian SaWap "into the millions of the Persian king." — Kioharuson's Dis ertation.— But this disregard to the evidence of Grecian antiquity is only to prepare us for the reception of his Persian antiquity : yet could this very sensible writer see and lament in other cases, that " attachment to system has heaped " error upon error, and raised splendid fabrics upon pillars of ice," The Persians. ^ 3^7 The gates of Susa and Ecbatana Pour'd fourth their martial trains ; and Cissia sees Her ancient tow'rs forsaken, whilst her youth, Some on the bounding steed, the tall bark some Ascending, some with painful march on root Haste on, t* arrange the deep'ning files of war. Aniistres, Artaphrenes, and the might ^ Of great Astaspes, Megabazes bold, Chieftains of Persia, kings, that to the pow*r ' Of the great king obedient, march with these Leading their martial thousands ; their proud steeds Prance under_them ; steel bows and shafts their arms, Dreadful to see, and terrible in fight, Deliberate valour breathing in their souls. Artembares, that in his fiery horse . / Delights; Masistres; and Irhaeus bold, ' ' Bending with manly strength his stubborn bow ; Pharandaces, and Sosthanes, that drives With military pomp his rapid steeds. Others the vast prolific Nile hath sent ; Pegastagon, that from ^gyptuS draws His high birth ; Susiscanes ; and the chief That reigns o'er sacred iMemphis, great Arsames ; And Ariomardus, that o'er ancient Thebes Bears the supreme dominion ; and with these -^^ - Drawn from their wat'ry marshes numbers train'd To the stout oar. Next these the Lycian troops. Soft sons of luxury ; and those that dwell Amidst the inland forest, from the sea Far distant ; these Metragathes commands. And virtuous Arceus, royal chiefs, that shine • In burnish'd gold, and many a whirling car Drawn by six generous steeds from r»ardis lead .' A glorious and a dreadful spectacle. 328 The Persians. * "~ ■ i\nd From the faot of '^molus, sacred mound. Eager to bind qn Greece the servile yoke, Mardon and Tharybis the massy spear Grasp with unwearied vigour; the light lance The Mysians shake, A mingled muhitude Swept from her wide dominions skill'd to draw Tli' unerring bow, in ships Euphrates sends From golden Babylon. With falchions arm'd , From all th' extent of Asia move the hosts >T^ Obedient to their monarch's stern command. Thus march'd the tiow'r of Persia, whose lov'd youth The world of Asia nourish'd, and with sighs Laments their absence ; many an anxious look Their wives, their parents send, count the slow days. And tremble at the long-protracted time. STBO. 1. Already o'er the adverse strand In arms the monarch's martial squadrons spread 5 The threat'ning ruin shakes the land, And each tall city bows its tow'red head. Bark bound to bark, their wond*rous v^ay They bridge across th' indignant sea ; ' The narrow Hellespont's vex'd waves disdain. His proud neck taught to wear the chain. Now has the peopled Asia's w^arlike lord. By land, by sea, with foot, with horse, Resistless in his rapid course. O'er all their realms his warring thousands pour'd^. Now his intrepid chiefs surveys. And glitt'ring like a God his radiant state displays. ANTIS. 1. Fierce as the dragon scal'd in gold Thro' the deep files he darts his glowing eye ; And pleas'd their order to behold, His gorgeous standard blazing to the sky. Rolls onward his Assyrian car, Directs the thunder of the war^^ The Persians. 329 Bids the wing'd arrows' irou Storm advance, Against the slow and cumbrous lance. What shall withstand the torrent of his sway, . When dreadful o'er the yielding shores ^ Th' impetuous tide of battle roars, And sweeps the weak-opposing mounds away ? So Persia with resistless might _ ^ Rolls her unnumber'd hosts of heroes to the fight. 2. For when misfortune's fraudful. hand Prepares to pour the vengeance of the sky, W hat mortal shall h^r force withstand, What rapid speed th' impending fury fly ? Gentle at first with flattVing smiles She spreads her soft enchanting wiles. So to her toils allures her destin'd prey, Whenpe man ne'er breaks unhurt away. For thus from ancient times the Fates ordain. That Persia's sons shou'd greatly dare, Unequall'd in the works of war; Shake with their thund'ring steeds th* ensanguin'd plain, Dreadful the hostile walls surround, And lay their rampir'd tow'rs in ruins on the ground. !. 2. Taught to behold with fearless eyes The whitening billows foam beneath the gale, They bid the naval forests rise, Mount the slight bark, unfurl the flying sail. And o'er the angry ocean bear To distant realms the storm of war. For this with many a sad and gloomy thought " My torlur'^ breast is fraught : ' Ah me! for Persia's absent sons I sigh ; For whilst in foreign fields they fight. Our towns expos'd to wild affright ^ An easy prey to the invader lie ; • • , . ' '^ . - 2 u ^ ■ 330 - The Persians. \ ' Where, mighty Susa, where thy povvVs, To wield the warrior's arms, and guard thy regal tow'rs f £POD. Crushed beneath th' assailing foe, Her golden head must Cissia bend ; Whilst her pale virgins, frantic with despair, Thro' all her streets awake the voice of woe ; And> flying with their bosoms bare. Their purfled stoles in anguish rend : For all her youth in martial pride. Like bees that, clust'ring round their king, Their dark-embodied squadrons bring, Attend their scepter'd monarch's side, And stretch across the watVy way From shore to shore their long array. The Persian dames with many a tender fear In griefs sad vigils keep the midnight hour ; Shed on the widow 'd couch the streaming tear. And the long absence of their loves deplore. Each lonely matron feels her pensive breast Throb with desire, with aching fondness glow, V ' Since in bright arms her daring warrior drest Left her to languish in her love-lorn woe. CHOR. Now ye grave Persians, that your honoured seats c Hold in this ancient house, with prudent care And deep deliberation, so the state Requires, consult we, pond'ring the event Of this great war, which our imperial lord. The mighty Xerxes, from Darius, sprung. The stream of whose rich blood flows in our veins. Leads against Greece ; whether his arrowy show'r Shot from the strong-brac'd bow, or the huge spear High brandish'd, in the deathful field prevails. But see, the monarch's mother : like the Gods Her lustre blazes on our eyes : My queen, The Persians. 331 Prostrate I fall before her * : All advance With reverence, and in duteous phrase address her. Whole CHORUS. Hail, queen, of Persia's high-zon'd dames supreme^ Age-honour'd mother of the potent Xerxes, Jlmperial consort of Darius, hail ! The.wife, the mother of the Persians' God, If yet our former glories fade not from us. ATOs. And therefore am I come, leaving my house. That shines with gorgeous ornaments and gold, Where in past days Darius held with me His royal residence. With anxious care - , My heart is tortur'd : 1 will tell ybu, friends, My thoughts, not otherwise devoid of fear. Lest mighty wealth with haughty foot o'erturn And trample in the dust that happiness. Which, not unbless'd by Heav*n, Darius rais'd. ^ For this with double force unquiet thoughts Past utterance fill my soul ; that neither wealth W^ith all its golden stores, where men are wanting, Claims reverence ; nor the light, that beams from powV, Shines on the man, whom wealth disdains to grace. The golden stores of wealth indeed are ours ; But for the light, such in the house 1 deem ^ The presence of its lord, there J have fears. Advise me then, you whose experienced age Supports the state of Persia: prudence guides Your counsels, always kind and faithful to me. CHOR. Speak, royal lady, what thy will, assur'd We want no second bidding, where our powV * The Persians worshipped the Sun as the symbol of the Divine power: with the same prostrations they worshipped their kings, and even gave them the title of Gods, as their majesty was the tutelary power of tlie empire- Hyde, de Rel. Vet. Pers. 332 ' The Persians. ^ In word or deied waits on our zeal : our hearts In this with honest duty shall obey thee. ATOS. Oft, since my son hath march'd his mighty host » - Against th' lonians, warring to subdue ' Their country, have my slumbers been disturbed With dreams of dread portent ; but most last night. With marks of plainest proof. I'll tell thee then ; Melhought two women stood before my eyes Gorgeously vested, one in Persian robes Adorn'd, the other in the Doric garb. With more than mortal majesty they mov'd, Of peerless beauty ; sisters too they seem'd, - Tho* distant each from each they chanced to dwell, In Greece the one, on the barbaric coast The other. 'Twixt them soon dissention rose : My son then hasted to compose their strife, Sooth'd them to fair accord, beneath his car Yokes them, and reins their harness'd necks. The one^ Exulting in her rich array, with pride Arching her stately neck, obey'd the reins ; The other with indignant fury spurn'd The car, and dash'd it piecemeal, rent the reins, , And tore the yoke asunder : down my son " • \ Fell from the seat, and instant at his side His father stands, Darius, at his fall Impress'd with pity : him when Xerxes saw, Glowing with grief and shame, he rends his robes. This was the dreadful vision of the night. When I arose*, in the sweet-ilowing stream I bath'd my hands, and on the incens'd altars Presenting my oblations to the Gods * To expiate the ill-omened vision of the night : hence Per5in««. I^octem flumine purgas. Stanley. ' , The Persians. 333 ' / T* avert these ills, an* eagle ''^ I behold "Fly to the Altar of the Sun: aghast I stood, my friends, and speechless ; when an hawk With eager speed runs thither, furious cuffs The eagle with his wings, and with his talons Unplunies his head ; mean time th' imperial bird Cow'rs to the blows defenceless. Dreadful this / To me that saw it, and to you that hear. My son, let conquest crown h\s arms, wou'd shine With dazzling glory ; but shou'd fortune frown, The state iiideed presumes not to arraign His sovereignty, yet how, his honour lost. How shall he sway the sceptre of this land f ? CHOR. We wou'd not, royal lady, sink thy soul With fear in the excess, nor raise it high With confidence. Go then, address the Gods ; If thou hast seen ought ill, entreat their pow r T' avert that ill, and perfect evVy good . . To thee, thy sons, the state, and all thy friends. Then to the earth, and to the mighty dead. Behoves thee pour libations ; gently call Him that was once thy husband, whom thou saw'st * As the Sun was peculiarly the deity of the Persians, and the Eagle the emhiem of royalty, this omen evidently points at Xerxes. . t The-translation follows the correction of Pauw : Mr. Heath retaias the common reading, and renders the passage thus, " If my son conquers, he will *' be glorious ; but if he be conquered, he is not accountable to the state, but " will rule the kingdom as usual." The spirit of ^schylus is not thus tame. That Atossa feared a revolt in the state, appears by her entreating the Chorus,, the great council of Persia, to comfort her son at his return, and itend him to his house, M>j ««< « -a^og xaxoTtrt zr^otr^nrat Kaxov ; and by declaring, that she will not forsake in their afflictions those whom she holds most dear,' Ov "yaf ra ipiXTiZT iv Ka.Ko7g 'nr^o^uaoy.sv. — V. 853. And that the Chorus had the same apprehensions is evident from the latter part of the next ode, 334 ^ The Persians. . , In visions of the night ; entreat his shade - From the deep realms beneath to send to light Triumph to thee, and to thy son ; whatever Bears other import, to enwrap, to hide it Close in the covering earth's profoundest gloom. This, in the presage of my thoughts that flow Benevolent to thee, have I proposed ; And all, we trust, shall be successful to thee. ATOS. Thy friendly judgment first hath plac'd these dreams In a fair light, confirming the event Benevolent to my son, and to my house. May all the good be ratified ! These rites Shall, at thy bidding, to the Pow'rs of Heav'n, And to the manes of our friends, be paid In order meet, when 1 return : mean while ' ^ Indulge me, friends, who wish to be informed ^ Where, in what clime, the tow'rs of Athens rise. CHOR. Far in the west, where sets th' imperial sun. ,. ATOS, Yet my son will'd the conquest of this town. CFJOR. May Greece thro' all her states bend to his powV. ATOS. Send they embattled numbers to the field ? €HOR. A force, that to the Medes hath wrought much woe. ATOS. Have they sufficient treasures in their houses ? CHOR. Their rich earth yields a copious fount of silver *. ATOS. From the strong bow wing they the barbed shaft ? CHOR. They grasp the stout spear, and the massy shield. ATOS. What monarch reigns,whose power commands their ranks ^ CHOR. Slaves to no lord, they own no kingly pow'rf. * This alludes to their rich silver mines. t This was the glory of the free states of Greece. The Persian monarch teld all the suhjects of his empire, of whatever rank or condition, as his slaves; lie had indeed the gallantry to except his wife. Ai^a/m ao) \f/i.a.vrov Sot/Xtf* xoLi evfifiKxi^Vt^ yield myself to thee as thy slave and assistant in the war, was the language of Gobryas when he surrendered to Cyrus. This was th« ; ; The Persians. ' 335 ATOS. How can they then resist th' invading foe ? CHOR. As to spread havoc thro' the numerous host, ^ v That round Darius form'd their glitt'ring files. ATOS. Thy words strike deep, and wound the parent's breast, Whose sons ave march'd to such a dangerous field, CHOR. But, if I judge aright, thou soon shalt hear \ Each circumstance ; for this way, mark him, speeds A Persian messenger : he bears, be sure, Tidings of high import, or good or ill. ATOSSA, CHORUS, MESSENGER. MESS. Woe to the towns thro' Asia's peopled realms ! Woe to the land of Persia, once the port \-. Of boundless wealth, how is thy glorious state Vanished at once, and all thy spreading honours / Fall'n, lost ! Ah me ! unhappy is his task i. That bears unhappy tidings : but constraint Compels me to relate this tale of woe. Persians, the whole barbaric host is fall'n. CHOR. O horror, horror ! What a baleful train Of recent ills ! Ah Persians, as he speaks Of ruin, let your tears stream to the earth. MESS. It is e'en so, all ruin ; and myself. Beyond all hope returning, view this light. CHOR. How tedious arid oppressive is the weiglit , Of age, reserved to hear these hopeless ills ? MESS. I speak not from report ; but these mine eyes Beheld the ruin which my tongue wou'd utter. CHOR. Woe, woe is me ! Then has the iron storm. That darkened from the realms of^Asia, pour'd In vain its arrowy show'r on sacred Greece. MESS. In heaps th' unhappy dead lie on the strand servile yoke which Xerxes wished to bind on Greece; to repel which thej »xerted themselves thus gloriously. — Stanley. - 336 The Persians. Of Salamis, and all the neighboiiring shores^ CHOR. Unhappy friends, suiik, perishM in the sea ; Their bodies, 'midst the .wreck of shatter'd ships, Mangled, and rolling on th' encumber'd waves ! MESS. Nought did their bows avail, but all the troops In the first conflict of the ships were lost. CHOR. Raise the funereal cry, with dismal notes Wailing the wretched Persians. Oh, how ill They plann'd iheir measures, all their army perish'd ! MESS. O Salamis^ how hateful is thy name ! And groans burst from me when I think of Athens. CHOR. How dreadful to her foes! Call to remembrance How many Persian dames, wedded iu vain, '^ Hath Athens of their noble husbands widow'd ! ATos. Astonied with these ills, my voice thus long Hath wanted utteiance : Giiefs like these exceed The pow'i: of speech, or question : yet .e'en such. Inflicted by the Gods, must mortal man Constrained by hard necessity endure. But tell me all, without distraction tell me,. All this calamity, tho' many a groan Burst from thy labouring heart. Who is not fallen I W^hat leader must we wall ? What scepter'd chief Dying hath left his troops without a lord * f M ESS. Xerxes himself lives, and beholds the light. * Atossa with great delicacy inquires in general. What scepter'd chief Dying hath left his troops without a lord ? though her particular anxiety was for her son ; thus the messenger under- stands her; and, having assured her of the safety of Xerxes, proceeds without further question to inform h^r what sceptred chiefs had perished. Mr. Heath ^ destroys this propriety, and the whole sense of the context by the idea which lie has affixed to the words amvl^ov tx^iv, and for which he has no warrant from ^Eschylus : would he carry the same idea to, the ivvt^jn &})iy\ous %S T. 289 ? ^ The Persians. S37 ATos. That word beams comfort on my house, a ray , That brightens thro' the melancholy gloom. ''' ^ MESS. A rtembares, the potent chief that led Ten thousand horse, lies slaughter'd on the rocks Of rough Sileniae. The great Dadaces, Beneatji whose standard march'd a thousand horse, Pierc'd by a spear, fell headlong from the ship. Tenagon, bravest cf the Bactrians, lies Koll'd on the wave-worn beach of Ajax' isle *. .;^f!4 Lilaeus, Arsames, Argestes, dash - ^ ' With violence in death against the rocks , - Where nest the silver Doves +. Arcteus, that dwelt ^ ' Near to the fountains of the Egyptian Nile, Adeues, and Pheresba, and Pharnuchus, Fell from one ship, Matallus, Chrysa's chief. That led his darkening squadrons, thrice ten thousand, On jet-black steeds :[:, with parple gore distain'd The yellow of his thick and shaggy beard. The Magian Arabus, and Artames From Bactra, mould'ring on the dreary shore Lie low. Amlstris, and Araphistreus there Grasps his war-wearied spear ; there prostrate lies Th' illustrious Ariomardus ; long his loss Shall Sardis weep : the Mysian Sisames, ~ "And Tharybis, that o'er the burdened deep Led five times fifty vessels ; Lerna gave * Salamis was the birth-place of Ajax ; so that hero boasts in the yth Iliad* From warlike Salamis I drew my birth. / y So Horace of his brother, Teucer Salamina, patremque. Cum fugeret, ... t Salamis was sacred to Venus ; hence it abounded with do\rps. ~v j'^schylus never loads his verse with unmeaning epithets]; the colour of these horses is particularly marked ; it is not easy to assign the reason. 2 X 338 The Persians. The hero birth, and manly grace adorn 'd His pleasing foiun, but low in death he lies Unhappy in his fate. Syennesis, Cilicia's warlike chief, who dared to front The foremost dangers, singlv to the foes A terror, there too found a glorious death. These chieftains to my sad remembrance rise. Relating but a few of many ills. ATOS. This is the height of ill, ah me ! and shame To Persia, grief, and lamentation loud. But tell me this^ afresh renew thy tale. What was the number of the Grecian fleet. That in fierce conflict their bold barks shou'd dare Rush to encounter with the Persian hosts. MESS. Know then, in numbers the barbaric fleet Was far superior : in ten squadrons, each X Of thirty ships, Greece plough'd the deep ; of these One held a distant station. Xerxes led A thousand ships ; their number well 1 know ; Two hundred more, and seven, that swept the seas With speediest sail : this was their full amount. And in th' engagement seem'd we not secure Of victory ? But unequal fortune sunk Our scale in fight, discomfiting our host* ATOS. The Gods preserve the city of Minerva. MESs.^he walls of Athens are impregnable, Their firmest bulwarks her heroic sons. ATOS. Which navy first advanced to the attack? Who led to th' onset, tell me ; the bold Greeks, Or, glorying in his numerous fleet, my son ? MESS. Our evil Genius, lady, orsonie God Hostile to ^"et sia, led to evVy ill. FortU fiotn the troops • f Athens came a Greek, And thus address'd thy son, th* imperial Xerxes i The. Persians. ^ 33^ *' Soon as the shades of night descend *, the Grecians ' " Shall quit their station; rushing to their oars , ** They mean to separate, and in secret flight ** Seek safety." At these words the royal chief. Little conceiving of the wiles of Greece And Gods averse, to all the naval leaders Gave his high charge ; " Soon as yon sun shall cease *^ To dart his radiant beams, and darkening night *' Ascends the temple of the sky f , arrange " In three divisions your well-order'd ships, *' And guard each pass, each out-let of the seas : *' Othei's enring arotind this rocky isle '^ Of Salaniis : Shou'd Greece escape her fate, *^ And work her way by secret flight, your heads '* Shall answer the neglect." This harsh command He gave, exulting in his mind, nor knew What Fate design'd. With martial discipline And prompt obedience, snatching a repast, Each mariner fix'd well his ready oar. ■ Soon as the golden sun was set, and night Advanc'cl, each trained to ply the dashing oar Assum'd his seat ; in arms each warrior stood. Troop cheering troop thro' all the ships of war. * C. Ncpos tells us from Herodotus, that the comtaanders of the Grecian, fleet, terrified with the destruction of Athens, agreed to return home to defend their own states : this must have been a ruinous measure, as, had they sepa- rated, they would have been easily crushed. Themistocles alone opposed it ; but his remonstrance had little weight with Eurybiades, the king of Sparta, who then commanded in chief: he therefore formed this plan, that they might all be obliged to tight, however contrary to their judgment it succeeded. Thus Xerj^es, says the historian, was conquered by the measures of Themis- tocles, rather than by the arms of Greece. t As the Sun was peculiarly worshipped by ihe Persians, Xerxes with great propriety and beauty calls his place in the Heavens, " The Temple of the '•Sky* ^ 340 . The Persians. / ^-^ , Each to th' appointed station steers his course ; And thro' the night his naval force each chief Fix'd to secure the passes. JNi^ht advanc'd, " But -not by secret flight did Greece attempt T' escape. The morn, all beauteous to behold, ' Drawn by white steeds bounds o'er th' enlighten'd earth; At once from evVy Greek witirglad acclaim Burst forth the song of war, whose lofty notes The echo of the island rocks return'd. Spreading dismay thro' Persia's hosts thus fallen From their high hopes ; no flight this solemn strain Portended, but deliberate valour bent • , i , - On daring battle ; whilst the trumpet's sound Kindled the flames of war. But when their oars, The Paean ended, with impetuous force Dash'd the resounding surges, instant all Rush'd on in view ; in orderly array The squadron on the right first led, behind Rode their whole fleet ; and now distinct we heard From ev'ry part this voice of exhortation, " Advance, ye sons of Greece, from thraldom save " Your country, save your wives, your children save, " The temples of your Gods, the sacred tomb ** Where rest your honour'd ancestors ; this day *' The common cause of all demands your valour.'* Meantime from Persia's hosts the deep'ning shout . Answer'd their shout ; no time for cold delay ; But ship 'gainst ship its brazen beak impell'd. First to the charge a Grecian galley rush'd ; 111 the Phoenician bore the rough attack. Its sculptur'd prow all shatter'd. Each advanced Daring an opposite. The deep array Of Persia at the first sustain'd th* encounter ; But their throng'd numbers, in the narrow seas ' ^ : The Pgi^sians. 541 Confin'd, want room for action ; and depriv'd Of mutual aid beaks clash with beaks, and each Breaks all the other's oars : with skill dispos'd The Grecian navy circled them around With fierce assault ; and rushing from its height Th' inverted vessel sinks ; the sea no more Wears its accustom'd aspect, with foul wrecks And blood disfigur'd ; floating carcasses Roil on the rocky shores : the poor remains . • Of the barbaric armament to flight Ply ev'ry oar inglorious : onward rash The Greeks amidst the ruins of the fleet. As thro' a shoal of fish caught in the net, Spreading destruction : the wide ocean o'er • Wailings are heard, and loud laments, till night With darkness on her brow brought grateful tr^ice. Should I recount each circumstance of woe, Ten times on my unfinished tale the sun ^W^ou'd set; for be assured that not one 'day Cou'd close the ruin of so vast an host. ATos. Ah, what a boundless sea of woe hath burst On Persia, and the whole barbaric race! MESS. These are not half, not half our ills ; on these Came an assemblage of Calamities, That sunk us with a double Weight of woe. ATOS. What fortune can be more unfriendly to us Than this ? Say on, what dread calamity Sunk Persia's host with greater weight of woe. MESS. Whoe'er of Persia's warriors glow'd in prime Of vig'rous youth, or felt their generous souls Expand with courage, or for noble birth Shone with distinguish'd lustre, or excell'd In firm and duteous loyalty,, all these Are fall*n, ignobly, miserably fall'n. S42 The Persians. , Atos. Alas their ruthless fate, unhappy friends I \ But in what manner, tell me, did they perish ? MESS. Full against Salami^ an isle arises*. Of small circumference, to ih* anchored bark Unfaithful ; on the promontory's brow, That overlooks the sea, Pan loves to lead The dance : to this the monarch sends these chiefs^ That when the Grecians from their shatter'd ships Shou'd here seek shelter, these might hew them down An easy conquest, and secure the strand To their sea-wearied friends; ill judging what Th' event : but when the fav'ring God to Greece Gave the proud glory of this naval fight, instant in all their glitt'ring arms they leap*d From their light ships, and all the island round Encompass'd, that our bravest stood dismay *d ; Whilst broken rocks whirl'd with tempestuous force. And storms of arrows crush'd them ; then the Greeks Rush to th' attack at once, and furious spread The carnage, till each mangled Persian fell. Deep were the groans of Xerxes, when he saw This havoc*; for his seat, a lofty mound Commanding the wide sea, o'erlook'd his hosts." With rueful cries he rent his royal robes. And thro' his troops embattled on the shore Gave signal of retreat; then started wild, And fled disorder'd. To the former ills * Psyttaleia, a rough uncultivated rock between Salarais and the continent* Pan is always represented as delighting in such places, ».^ K«i xe^uipcis o^iuv,,»a,i zrtr^vuvrec xa^tivct» — STANLEYi t Xerxes viewed this fight from ^gialus, a mountain on the opposite short j the silver chair, on which he sate, was afterwards placed in the temple of. Minerva in Athens, and dedicated to that Goddess, as was the goldfen-hilted •cyraetar of Mardouius. The Persians. S43 These are fresh miseries to awake thy sighs, ATOS. Invidious Fortune, how thy baleful powV Hath sunk the hopes of Persia ! Bitter fruit My son hath tasted from his purposed vengeance On Athens fam'd for arms; the fatal field Of Marathon, red with barbaric blood, , Sufficed not ; that defeat he thought t' avenge, And pull'd this hideous ruin on his head. But tell me, if thou can'st, where didst thou leave The ships, that happily escap'd the wreck ? AIESS. The poor remains of Persia's scattered fleet Spread evVy sail for flight, as the wind drives, In wild disorder. And on land no less The ruin'd army, in Boeotia some. With thirst oppressed at Crene's cheerful rills Were lost ; forespent with breathless speed some pass The fields of Phocis, some the Doric plain, And near the gulf of Melia, the rich vale Thro' which Sperch^us rolls his friendly stream. Achaia thence and the Thessalian state , ^ j Received our famish'd train ; the greater part Thro* thirst and hunger perish'd there, oppressed ' At once by both : but we our painful steps Held onwards to Magnesia, and the land ' . Of Macedonia, o'er the ford of/Axius, And Bolbe's sedgy marches, and the heights ^ Of steep Pangieos, to the realms of Thrace. That night, e'er yet the season, breathing frore* * The battle of Salamis was fought on the 20th of the month Boedromioni which answers to September ; no wonder then that this early frost appeared miraculous to the Persians. iEschylus observes propriety of manners in re- presenting them as adoring the Earth and Sky ; the Greek writers are una- pipious in their relationrthat the ancient Persians worshipped the elements, ^s the prima omnium rerum semina; Fir^ as derived from the Sun; the Air, pr the wide circumference of the sky, which they esteemed to be Jupiter ; 344 The Persians. Rush'd winter, and with ice encrusted o er The flood of sacred S try mon: such as ovvn'd No God til! now, a^ve-struck, with many' a prayV Ador'd the earth and sky. When now the troops Had ceas'd their invocations to the Gods, / "/ O'er the stream's solid crystal they began Their march ; and we, who took our early .way, F/er the sun darted his warm beams, pass'd safe ; But when his burning orb with fiery rays Unbound the middle current, down they sunk Each over other ; happiest he who found The speediest d^ath : the poor remains, that 'scap'd. With pain thro' Thrace dragg'd on their toilsome march, A feeble few, and reached their native soil ; That Persia sighs thro' all her states, and mourns Her dearest youth. This is no feigned tale ; But many of the ills, that burst upon us In dreadful vengeance, 1 refrain to utter. €HOR. O Fortune, heavy with affliction's load, How hath thy foot crush'd all the Persian race \ ATOS. Ah me, what sorrows for our ruin'd host Oppress my soul ! Ye visions of the night Haunting my dreams, how plainly did you show These ills ?— You set them in too fair a light. Yet, since your bidding hath in this prevail'd, First to the Gods wish 1 to pour my pray'rs, T'hen to the mighty dead present my ofFrings, Bringing Ubalions from my house : too late, ^ 1 know, to 'change the past; yet for the future, the Earth; and Water. Hyde, a zealous advocate for the orthodoxy of Magisra, cries out, Bone deus, quanta sunt ha5C niendaeia ! The feet, however, is incontestable; and whether the adoration >was religious or civil, real or em- blemaiical, was of no concern to the Athenian poet, though of much to ihf. Christian divine. Ipse viderit. ' The Persians. 345 If haply better fortune may await it. Behoves you, on this sad event, to guide . Your friends with faithful councils. Shou'dwy sbn Return e'er 1 have finish'd, let your voice Speak comfort to him ; friendly to his house Attend him, nor let sorrow rise on sorrows. STEo. Awful sovereign of the skies, When now o'er Persia's numerous host ' Thou bad'st the storm with ruin rise, All her proud vaunts of glory lost, Ecbalana's imperial head .. ; By thee was wrapt in sorrow's dark'ning shade ; Thro' Susa's palaces with loud lament, By their soft hands their veils all rent. The copious tear the virgins pour, . That trickles their bare bosoms o*er. From her sweet couch up starts the widow'd ,bride. Her loixl's lov'd image rushing on her soul, Throws the rich ornaments of youth a«ide. And gives her griefs to flow without control : Her griefs not causeless; for the n^ighty slain Our melting tears demand, and sorrow-soften'd strain. ANTis. Now her wailings wide despair ^ - Pours these exhausted regions o'er ; Xerxes, ill-fated, led the war ; Xerxes, ill-fated, leads no more ; , Xerxes sent forth th' unwise command, The crouded ships unpeopled all the land ; 1'hat land, o'er which Darius held his reign. Courting the arts of peace, in vain. O'er all his grateful realms ador'd, The stately Susa's gentle lord. Black o'er the waves his burden'd vessels sweeps I' or Greece €late the warlike squadrons fly; g Y ^ 346 The Persians. : ' . Now crushed, and whelm'^ beneath tli' indignant deep The shatterd wrecks and lifeless heroes lie : Whilst, from the arms of Greece escap'd, with toil Th' unsheltered monarch roams o'er Thracia's dreary soil, EPOD. The first in battle slain By Cychrea's craggy shore Thro' sad constraint, ah me ! forsaken lie, • All pale and smear'd with gore; — Raise high the mournful strain, And let the voice of anguish pierce the sky : — Or roll beneath the roaring tide, 'By monsters rent of touch abhorr'd ; Whilst thro' the widow'd mansion echoing wide Sounds the deep groan, and wails its slaughter'd lord : Pale with his fears the helpless orphan there Gives the full stream of plaintive grief to flow ; W^hilst age its hoary head in deep despair Bends, list'ning to the shrieks of woe. With sacred awe ' , . The Persian law No more shall Asia's realms revere ; To their lord's hand, At his command, No more th* exacted tribute bear. W^ho now falls prostrate at the monarch's throne? ' ' His regal greatness is no more. ' Now no restraint the wanton tongde shall Own, Free from the golden curb of pow'r ; For oir'the rocks, wash'd by the beating flood. His awe-commanding nobles lie in blood. ATOSSA, CHORUS. ATOS. Whoe'er, my friends, in the rough stream of life 'Hath struggled with affliclioii, thence is taught The Persians. 347 That, when the flood begins to swell, the heart Fondly fears all things : when the fav'ring gale Of fortune smooths the currentj^ it expands With unsuspecting confidence, and deeitis' That gale shall always breathe. So to my eyes All things now wear a formidable shape, And threaten from the Gods : my ears are pierc'd With sounds far other than of song. Such ills Dismay my sick'ning soul ; hence from my house Nor glitt'ring car attends me, nor the train Of wonted state, whilst I return, and bear Libations Soothing to the father's, shade \ In the son's cause : delicious milk, that foams White from the sacred heifer : liquid honey, Extracts offlow'rs; and from its virgin fount^ The running chrystal ; this pure draught, that flow'd From th' ancient vine, of powV to bathe the spirits In joy ; the yellOw olive's fragrant fruit, Thai glories in its leaves' unfading verdure ; _; With flow'rs of various hues, earth's fairest offspring, Enwreath'd. But you, my friends, amidst these rites Raise high your solemn warblings f, and invoke * Tlie Persians endeavoured to preserve the virgin purity of water with the most religious attention, esteeming that and fire, in this pure state, to be the only images oiF the Divine nature in this world : with this view gipards were assigned to the fountains and rivers; and it was the highest crime to defile water, insomuch that Tiridates, when he was going to Nero, refused to sail, because he held it unlawful to pollute the sea : navigare noluit, quia expuere in maria, aliisqne mortalium ndcessitatibus violare naturam eaiji fas npn putavit. Pliny.-^HYDE, p. 138. 1' After these libations it was usual to address the deadwith a solemn hymu : thus Electra in the Choephorae, having poured the oblations at the torrtb of feer father, bids the Chorus . Attu-ne the Pajan, And soothe his shade with solemn harmony. 348 The Persians. Your lord, divine Darius : I meaiiM hile Will pour these offVings to th' infernal Gods. CHTOR. Yes, royal lady, Persia's honour'd grace, To earth's dark ehambers pour thy oflf'rings : We With choral hymns will supplicate the powZrs That guide the dead to be propitious to us. And you, that o'er the realms of night extend Your sacred sway, thee nnghty earth, and thee Hermes ; thee chief, tremendous king, whose throne Awes with supreme dominion, I adjure : Send, from your gloomy regions, send his shade Once more to visit this ethereal light ; . - ^ That he alone, if ought of dread event He sees yet threatening Persia, may disclose To us poor mortals Fate's extreme decree. Hears the honoured,, godlike king ? These barbaric notes of woe. Taught in descant sad to ring, ) Hears he in the shades below ? Thou, O Earth, and you, that lead Thro' your sable realms the dead, Guide him as he takes his way, And give him to th' ethereal light of day ! Let th' illustrious shade arise Glorious in his radiant stale, More than bla2'd before our eyes, E'er sad Suoa mourn'd his fate. But here it was of absolute necessity, as a charm to evoke the dead, S/ives •4/u^AR. Since fear hath chain'd his tongue,' high-hoi^our'd c^ame, Oncermy imperial consort, check thy tears, Thy griefs ; and speak distinctly. Mortal maa Must bear his lot of woe ; , afflictions rise Many from sea, many from land, if life. Be haply measur'd thro' a lengthened couijge. ATOS. O thou, that grac'd with fortune's choicest gifts Surpassing mortals, whilst thine eye beheld Yon sun's ethereal rays, liv'dst like a God Blest *midst thy Persians ; blest I deem thee now In death, e'er sunk in this abyss of ills; Darius, hear at once our sUm of woe, ' , Ruin thro' all her states hath crush'd thy Persia. DAR. By pestilence, or faction's furious storms? ATOS. Not so : near Athens perish'd all out troops. DAR. Say, of my sons which led the forces thither ? ATOS. Th' fmpetuous Xerxes, thinning all the land. DAR. By sea or land dar'd he this rash attempt ? ATOS. By both : a double /ront the war presented. DAR. An host so vast* what march conducted o'er ? ATOS. From shore to shore he bridg'd the Hellespont. / ' DAR. What, cou'd he chain the mighty Bosphorus? At OS. E'en so, some God assisting his design. DAR. Some God of pow'r to .cloud his better sense. ATOS. Th' event now shows what mischiefs he achiev'd. DAR. What suffer'd they, for whom your sorrows flow r ATOS. His navy sunk spreads ruin thro' the camp. BAR.. Fell all his host beneath ihe slaught'ring spear ? ATOS. Susa, thro' alLh^r streets, mourns her lost. sons. / S52 The Persians. BAR. How vain the succour, the defence of arms ? ATOSr In Bactra age and grief are only left. - , BAR. Ah, what a train of warlike youth is lostf' \ ' ATOS. Xerxes, astonish'd, desolate, alone^^ 1)AR. How will this end ? Nay, pause not. Is he safe ? A.TOS, Fled o'er the bridge, that joiu'd the adverse strands, BAR. And reach'd this shore in safety ? Is this true f ATOS. True are thy words, and not to be gainsaid. BAR, With what a winged course the oracles Haste their completion? With the light ning's speed Jove on my son hath hurl'd his threatened vengeance..: Yet I implor'd the Gods that it might fall In time's late process : but when rashness drives Impetuous on, the scourge of Heav'n uprais'd ^ Lashes the Fury forward ; hence these ills Pour headlong on my friends. Not weighing this^ My son, with all the fiery pride of youth, Hath quicken'd their arrival, whilst he hop'd To bind the sacred Hellespont, to hold The raging Bospborus, like a slave, in chains*. And dar'd th' advent'rous passage, bridging firm With links of solid iron his wondVous way, To lead hi& numerous host ; and, swell'd with thoughts Presumptuous, deem'd, vain mortal, that his pow'r , Shou'd rise above the Gods, and Neptune's might. And was not this the frenzy of the soul ? But much I fear lest all my treasur'd wealth * Authors have been careful enough to transmit to us an account of the intemperate pride of Xerxes. When the first bridge, which he formed over the Hellespont, was broken by the waves, he ordered the sea to be scourged "for having dareli to disobey his will, and threw chains into it, thereby signi- fying that he would bind it as his slave in fetters: biit it has not been ob- , served, that the peculiar aggravation of this arose from the impiety of it; for, as the Persians revered water as particularly sacred, Xerxes by this presuxnp« tuous act assumed a superiority over the divinity of the sea. The Persians. 353 Fall to some daring hand an easy prey. ATOS. This from too frequent converse with bad men Th' impetuous Xerxes learned : These caught his ear With thy great deeds, as winning for thy sons Vast riches with thy conquering spear, whilst he Timorous and slothful never, save in sport. Lifted his lance, nor added to the wealth Wop by his noble fathers. This reproach, Oft by bad men repeated, urg'd his soul T' attempt this war, and lead his troops to Greece. »AR. Great deeds have they achieved, and memorable For ages : Never hath this wasted state SufFer'd such ruin, since Heav'n's awful king Gave to one lord Asia's extended plains White with innumerous flocks, and to his hands - Consign'd th* imperial sceptre. Her brave hosts " A Mede first led *. The virtues of his son Fix'd firm the empire, for his temperate soul Breath'd prudence. Cyrus nekt, by fortune grac'd, AdornM the throne, and bless'd his grateful friends With peace : He to his mighty monarchy Join'd Lydia, and the Phrygians ; to his pow'r Ionia bent reluctant ; but the Gods With victory his gentle virtues crown'd. His son then wore the regal diadem. Next, to disgrace his country, and to stain The splendid glories of this ancient throne. Rose Mardus : him with" righteous vengeance fir'd Artaphrenes, and his confederate chiefs, * The English reader wij[ be contented with this short account of the Per- sian njiouarchy as ^schylus hath given it : this was sufficient for his purpose. The excellent Stanley hath entered into a long disquisition j but, as Pauw well observes, Ea non sunt hujus loci : this is rather the province of history than of a detached note. 2 Z 354 ' Ithe Persians. Crushed in his palace : MarapHis assumed The sceptre : after him Artaphrenes. Me next to this exahed eminence, Crowning iliy great ambition, fortune rais'd ; In many a glorious field my glittering spear Flamed in the van of Persia's numerous hosts ; But never wrought such ruin to the state. Xerxes, my son, in all the pride of youth Listens to youthful counsels^, my commands No more remember'd: hence, my hoary friends. Not the whole line of Persia's sceptred lords, You know it well, so wasted her brave sons. CHOR. Why this '^ ? To what fair end are these thy words Directed? Sovereign Lord, instruct ihy Persians ' How, 'midst this ruin, best to guide their state. DAR. No more 'gainst Greece lead your embattled hosts ; Not tho' your deepening phalanx spreads the field Out-numb'ring theirs : their very earth fights for them. CHOR. What may thy words import ? How fight for them? DAR. With famine it destroys your cumbrous train. CHOR. Choice levies, prompt for action, will we send. DAR. Those, in the fields of Greece that now remain, /Shall not revisit safe the Persian shore. CHOR. What, shall not all the host of Persia pass ^ -^ Again from Europe o'er the Hellespont? DAR.. Of all their numbers few -f, if ought avails * The Chorus had reason to ask this question, as the tendency of the speech of DariQs is obscure enough:, it means, that all the wars of all their former kings, and oven his own, though the mention of Marathon is carefully avoided, were not so destructive to Persia as this expedition of Xerxes j therefore, if they regarded the welfare of their country, they must tlunk no more of in- vading Greece. t This is prophetically spoken of the battle of Plataea, which in the follow- ing year totally destroyed the remains of this mighty armament. The mes- senger could not relate this, nor the Chorus know it, a* the event had not yet The Persians. ^ ' 355 The faith of heav'n-sent oracles to him , , That weighs the past, in their accomplishment ' Not partial: hence he left, in faithless hope Confiding, his selected train of heroes. These have their station where Asopus flows Wat'ring the plain, whose grateful currents roll Diffusing plenty thro^ Boeotia's fields. There misery waits to crush them with the load Of heaviest ills, in vengeance for their proud And impious daring ; for where'er they held Thro' Greece their march, they fear'd not to profane The statues of the Gods * ; their hallow'd shrines Emblaz'd, o'erturn'd their altars, and in ruins, Rent from their firm foundations, to the ground Levell'd their temples : Such their frentic deeds. Nor less their suffVings : greater still await them ; For vengeance hath not wasted all her stores. The heap yet swells : for in Plataea's plains Beneath the Doric spear the clotted mass Of carnage shall arise, that the high mounds, happened : but the shade of Darius having something pf divinity, and observ- ing that part of the oracles of the Gods Were already accomplished, could with confidence declare, that the other part must have its completion.— Heath — ^These oracles were mentioned before. * The ancient Persians erected neither temples nor statues to their Gods, because they did not think them endued with human forms, nor to be con- fined within walls, as to whom all things ought to be free and open : their sacrifices were performed on high places to Jupiter, or the circumference of the sky, to the sun and moon, to the earth, to fire, to waiter, and to the winds. Xerxes retained enough of this purer Sabaism, to demolish all the temples of Greece in his march; though Hyde, in commenting on this narration of He- rodotus, informs us, that Persia at that time abounded with temples ; hence Xerxes, amidst his devastations, consistently enough with the principles and practice of his country, spared the temple of Apollo at Delos, and the temple of. Diana at Ephesus, considering the one as copsecrated to the Sun, the •ther to the Moon. S56 The Persians. Piled o*er the dead, to late posterity Shall give this silent record to men's eyes, . That proud aspiring thoughts but ill beseem . Weak mortals : for oppression, when it springs, Puis forth the blade of vengeance, and its fruit Yields a ripe harvest of repentant woe. Behold this vengeance, and remember Greece, Remember Athens* : henceforth let not pride, Her present state disdaining, strive to grasp Another's, and her treasur'd happiness Shed on the ground : such insolent attempts \ Awake the vengeance of offended Jove. ^ But you, whose age demands more temperate thoughts, With words of well-plac'd counsel teach his youth To curb that pride, which from the Gods calls down ^ Destruction on his head. And thou, whose age The miseries of thy Xerxes sink with sorrow, ^ Go to thy house, thence choose the richest robe. And meet thy son ; for thro' the rage of grief His gorgeous vestments from his royal limbs Are foully rent. With gentlest courtesy Sooth his affliction ; for his duteous ear, I know, will listen to thy voice alone. Now to the realms of darkness I descend. ) My ancient friends, farewell, and 'midst these ills Each day in pleasures bathe your drooping spirits. For ti^easur'd riches nought avail the dead. ATOSSA, CHORUS. , CHOR. These many present, many future ills Denounc'd on Persia sink my soul with grief. ATOS. Unhappy fortune, what a tide of ills * The intention of this fine reflection was to incline the Athenians to accept the Persiaa monarch's proposal of peace, which Theniistocles alone opposed. :- ; The Persians. 357 Bursts o'er me ! Chief this foul disgrace, which shows My son divested of his rich attire, His royal robes all rent, distracts my thoughts. But 1 will go,- choose the most gorgeous vest. And hast<^ to meet my son. Ne'er in his woes ^ Will 1 forsake whom my soul holds most dear. CHORUS. STRO. 1. Ye powVs that rule the skies, Memory recals our great, our happy fate, Our well-appointed state. The scenes of glorj' opening to our eyes, When this vast empire o'er The i^ood Darius, with each virtue blest That forms a monarch's breast, Shielding his subjects with a father's care, Invincible in war, Extended like a God his awful pow'r. Then spread our arms their glory wide. Guarding to peace her golden reign ; Each tow'red city saw with pride ^ Safe from the toils of war her homeward-marching train. ANTis. 1. Nor Halys' shallow strand Be pass'd, nor from his palace mov'd his state ; He spoke ; his word was Fate : What strong-based cities cou'd his might withstand t Not those that lift their heads Where to the sea the floods of Strymon pass^ Leaving the huts of Thrace ; Nor those, that far th' extendi d ocean' o'er Stand girt with many a tow'r ; Nor where the Hellespont his broad wave spreads ; Nor the firm bastions' rampir'd liiight, " Whose foot the deep Propontis laves ; 358 The Persians Nor those, that glorying in their height Frown o'er the Pontic sea, and shade his darken'd waves, STRO* 2. Each sea-girt isle around ,, ^ Bow'd to this monarch : humbled Lesbos bow'd ; Paros, of its marble proud ; Naxos with vines, with olives Samos crown'd : Him My conns ador'd : Chios, the seat of beauty ; Andros steep, That stretches o'er the deep To meet the wat'ry Tenos; him each bay Bound by th'. Icarian sea. Him Melos, Gnidiis, Rhodes confess'd their lord: O'er Cyprus stretch'd his sceptred hand : - Paphos and Solos ovvn'd his pow'r, And Salamis, whose hostile strand, The cause of all our woe, is red with Persian gore. ANTis. 2. E'en the proud towns, that rear'd , Sublime along th' Ionian coast their tow'rs, Where wealth her treasures pours, Peopled from Greece, his prudent reign rever'd. With such unconquer'd might His hardy warriors shook th' embattled fields, Heroes that Persia yields, - - And those from distant realms that took their way. And wedg'd in close array Beneath his glitt'ring banners claim'd the fight. , But now these glories iare no more ; Farewell the big war's plumed-pride : The Gods have crush'd this trophied pow'r, Sunk are our vanquishd arms beneath th' indignant tide. . . XERXES, CHORUS. XERX. Ah me, how sudden have the storms of Fate, Beyond ail thought; all apprehension, burst The Persians. 359 On my devoted head ! O Fortune, Fortune ! With what relentless fury hath thy hand Hurl'd desolation on the Persian race ! Woe unsupportable I The tort'ring thought Of our lost youth comes rushing on my mind, And sinks me to the ground. O Jove, that I Had died with those brave men that died in fight ! ciiOR, O thou afflicted monarch, once the lord Of marshalPd armies, of the lustre beam'd From glory's ray o'er Persia, of her sons The pride, the grace, whom ruin now hath sunk In blood ! Th' unpeopled land laments her youth By Xerxes led to slaughter, till the realms Of death are gorg'd with Persians ; for the flow'r Of all the realm, thousands, whose dreadful bows With arrowy show'r annoy 'd the foe, are faH'n. XERx. Your fall, heroic youths, distracts my soul. CHOR. And Asia sinking on her knee, O king, Oppress'd, with griefs oppress'd, bends to the eartbt xERx. And I, O wretched fortune, 1 was born To crush, to desolate my ruin'd country. CHOR. 1 have no voice, no swelling harmony. No descant, save these notes of woe, Harsh, and responsive to the sullen sigh. Rude strains, that unmelodious flow. To welcome thy return. XERX. Then bid, them flow, bid the wild measures flow, Hollow, unmusical, the notes of grief ; They suit my fortune, and dejected state. CHOR. Yes, at thy royal bidding shall the strain Pour the deep sorrows of my soul ; The sufl''rings of my bleeding country plain, And bid the mournful measures roll. 360 The Persians. i\ gain die voice of wild despair With sbrilling shrieks shall pierce the air ; For high the, God of War his flaming crest Ilais'd, with the Ifleet of Greece surrounded, The haughty arms of Greece with conquest blest, And Persia's widiei'd force confounded, Dash'd on the dreary beach her heroes slain. Or whelni'd them in the da:kcn'd main. XET?x. To swell thy griefs ask evVy circumstance. GHOE. Where are thy valiant friends, thy chieftains where f Pharnaces, Susas, and the mij^ht Of Pel agon, and Dotamas ? The spear Of Agabatas bold in fight f\ Psammis in mailed cunass drest, And Susiscancs' glitt'ring crest ? XEUx. Dash'd from the Tyrian vessel on the rocks Of Salaniis they sunk, and jsiriear'd v/ith gore The heroes on the dreary strand are stretch'd. GHOH. Where is Pharnuchus ? Ariomardus where, W'ith evVy gentle virtue graced f Lilaeus, that from chiefs renown'd in war His high-descended lineage traced? Where rears Sebalces his crown-circled head ? Where Tharybis to battles bred, Artembares, Hystajchmes bold, Memphis, Masistres sheath'd in gold ? XERX. Wretch that I am ! These on th' abhorred town Ogygian Athens *, roll'd their glowing eyes * Ogyges was one of the most ancient kings of Attica, or Bceotia ; author*. are not agreed as to the place ; we have the epithet before applied to Thebes. From the antiquity of this king, all things very ancient are called Ogygian : thus 'even the Egyptian Thebes is Ogygian, and in Piadar we find Ogygian niountains.-^SxANiiEY* The Persians. 361 : Indignant ; but at once in the fierce sfiock Of battle fell, dash'd breathless on the ground. €11 OR. There does the son of Batanochus lie, Thro' whose rich veins th' unsullied blood Of Susamus, down from the lineage high Of noble Mygabatas flow'd i Alpistus, who wiih faithful care ' Number'd the deep'ning files of war. The monarcii's eye * ; on the ensangum d plain * The Persian monarchs had officers tvhose province it was to observe and inforrii the king of all that was transacted in his^wide dominions ; they were therefore called the King's Eyes: this was an office of great trust, and usu» ally assigned to the most faithful and honourable Satraps. — Stanley. And now, pour douner le conge a ces reraarques, the translator thinks it necessary to declare, that living altogether in a private and retired station, ^ehad not, during his engagement in this work, the opportunity of consult- ing any learned friend on any difficulty, and difficulties enough occurred ; neither did he know, till after the translation was published, that there were any annotations on iEschylus, except what Pauw has given with Stanley's^ edition : therefore whatevei' mistakes or inaccuracies may have escaped him, they are to be attributed entirely to his own want of judgment. In readiwg Pauw lie could observe, that he sometimes suffered himself to be hurried into errors ; and he lamented, that so able a critic would not allow himself time to revise what he had written : this be ascribed to a certain impetuosity of temper, "which seems natural to hihi ; he also disapproves his rude and of- fensive bluntness, and wished that he had learned to sacrifice to the Graces; but he saw in this saucy man much erudition, a bold genius, and a strong conception of his author's meaning, which enabled him to elucidate some pas- sages, which were before involved in tenfold darkness ; no wonder therefore that he gratefully acknowledged his obligations to hira. But he soon found, that he had taken an unpopular part ; the translation was scarcely published, when he was taught to know, that his honourable mention of Pauw had given offence ; he was surprised and hurt at this, but was quickly informed, that M. D'Orville had made a collection of Pauw's crudities, and published them purposely to expose the man. Shortly after this, a learned friend sent hira Mr. Heath's notes : this gentleman was so highly offended at Pauw's '* wanton "insolence and contumelious arrogance," that be sees nothing in him but *» the grossest ignorance, and a perpetual alacrity in blundering ;" and if at any time he is compelled to acknowledge the justness of a remark, he ac- counts for it as for the blind man's shooting the crow i he therefore profess- . 3 A 362 The Persians. Low is tire mighty Warrior laid ?. ^ Is great /Ebares 'mongst the heroes slain, \ And Partheus niimber'd with the dead ?— Ah me ! those bursting groans deep-charg'd with woe The fate of Persia's princes show\ * ', XERX.To my griev'd memory thy mournful voice, 1 un'd to the sa sink us down. (EH OR. Dismay, and rout, and ruin on us wait, And all the vengeful storms of Fate : 111 flows on ill, on sori^ows sorrows rise ; Misfortune leads her baleful train ; Before th' Ionian squadrons Persia flies. Or sinks ingulfd beneath the main : Fall'n, fall'n is her imperial pow'r, And conquest on her banners waits no more, XERX. At such a fall, such troops of heroes lost, How can my soul but sink in deep despair ! Cease thy sad strain. CHOR. Is all thy glory lost ? X ERx. Seest thou these poor rem^lins of my rent robes ? CHOR. I see, I see. XERx. And this ill- furnishM quiver? CHOR. Wherefore preserved ? XERX. To store my treasured arrows. CHOR. Few, very few. XERX. And few my friendly aids, / CHOR. I thought these Grecians shrunk appalFd at arms. XERX. No : they are bold/and daring; these sad eyes Beheld their violent and deathful deeds. CHOR. The ruin, say'st thou, of thy shatter'd fleet? 364 The Persians* XERX. And in the anguish of my soul I rent My royal robes. CHOR Woe, woe ! XERX. . i\nd more than woe* CHOR. Redoubled, threefold woe! XERX. Disgrace to me, "But ttiumph to the foe. CHOR. Are ail thy powers In ruin crush'd ? XERx.r No Satrap guards me now. CHOR. Thy faithful friends sunk in the roaring main, XERX. Weep, weep their loss, and lead, me to my houses Answer my grief with grief, an ill return Of ills for ills. Yet once more raise that strain Lamenting my misfortunes ; beat thy breast, Strike, heave the groan ; awake the Mysian strain To notes of loudest woe; rend thy rich robes. Pluck up thy beard, tear off thy hoary lo-cks, Ard bathe thine eyes in tears : thus thro' the streets Solemn and slow with sorrow lead my steps ; Lead to my house, and wail the fate of Persia. CHOR. Yes, once more at thy bidding shall the strain Pour the deep sorrows of my soul ; The suff'i^ings of my bleeding country plain. And bid ihe Mysiau measures roll. "Again the voice'of wild despair With shrilling shrieks shall pierce the air ; * For high the God of War his flaming crest Rais'd, with the fleet of Greece surrounded. The haughty arms of Greece with conquest blest^ And Persia's wither'd force confounded, ]-^ash*d on the dreary beach her heroes ski«, O: \vhela;'d them in the darken'd main. FINIS. .^LI8R4§;^ .Wl^#"8 v^ '"> ^ %. %/ s^^ RETURN CIRCULATION DEPARTMENT TO^ 198 Main Stacks LOAN PERIOD 1 HOME USE 2 3 4 5 6 ALL BOOKS MAY BE RECALLED AFTER 7 DAYS. Renewls and Recharges may be made 4 days prior to the due date. Books may be Renewed by calling 642-3405. DUE AS STAMPED BELOW PR 9 199i FORM NO. DD6 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, BERKELEY BERKELEY CA 94720-6000 % •«» %>./ «s^ ^ # .^^ =$s> ^ I — Ki ^-y \J ^idc£i{^ \ \^^