The Agamemnon of Aeschylus | Page 5

followeth near;
He seeketh God with a great
desire,
He heaps his gifts, he essays his pyre
With torch below and with oil above,

With tears, but never the wrath shall move
Of the Altar cold that rejects his fire.
We saw the Avengers go that day,
And they left us here; for our flesh is old
And

serveth not; and these staves uphold
A strength like the strength of a child at play.
For
the sap that springs in the young man's hand
And the valour of age, they have left the
land.
And the passing old, while the dead leaf blows
And the old staff gropeth his
three-foot way,
Weak as a babe and alone he goes,
A dream left wandering in the day.
[_Coming near the Central Altar they see_ CLYTEMNESTRA, _who is still rapt in
prayer_.
But thou, O daughter of Tyndareus,
Queen Clytemnestra, what need? What news?

What tale or tiding hath stirred thy mood
To send forth word upon all our ways
For
incensed worship? Of every god
That guards the city, the deep, the high,
Gods of the
mart, gods of the sky,
The altars blaze.
One here, one there,
To the skyey night the firebrands flare,
Drunk
with the soft and guileless spell
Of balm of kings from the inmost cell.
Tell, O Queen,
and reject us not,
All that can or that may be told,
And healer be to this aching
thought,
Which one time hovereth, evil-cold,
And then from the fires thou kindlest

Will Hope be kindled, and hungry Care
Fall back for a little while, nor tear
The heart
that beateth below my breast.
[CLYTEMNESTRA _rises silently, as though unconscious of their presence, and goes
into the House. The_ CHORUS _take position and begin their first Stasimon, or
Standing-song,_
CHORUS.
(_The sign seen on the way; Eagles tearing a hare with young_.)
It is ours to tell of the Sign of the War-way given,
To men more strong,
(For a life that is kin unto ours yet breathes from heaven
A spell, a Strength of Song:)
How the twin-throned Might of Achaia, one Crown
divided
Above all Greeks that are,
With avenging hand and spear upon Troy was guided
By the Bird of War.
'Twas a King among birds to each of the Kings of the Sea,
One Eagle black, one black but of fire-white tail,
By the House, on the Spear-hand, in
station that all might see; And they tore a hare, and the life in her womb that grew,
Yea,
the life unlived and the races unrun they slew.
_Sorrow, sing sorrow: but good prevail, prevail_!
(_How Calchas read the sign; his Vision of the Future_.)

And the War-seer wise, as he looked on the Atreid Yoke
Twain-tempered, knew
Those fierce hare-renders the lords of his host; and spoke,
Reading the omen true.
"At the last, the last, this Hunt hunteth Ilion down,
Yea, and before the wall
Violent division the fulness of land and town
Shall waste withal;
If only God's eye gloom not against our gates,
And the great
War-curb of Troy, fore-smitten, fail.
For Pity lives, and those wingèd Hounds she hates,

Which tore in the Trembler's body the unborn beast.
And Artemis abhorreth the
eagles' feast."
_Sorrow, sing sorrow: but good prevail, prevail_!
(_He prays to Artemis to grant the fulfilment of the Sign, but, as his vision increases, he
is afraid and calls on Paian, the Healer, to hold her back_.)
"Thou beautiful One, thou tender lover
Of the dewy breath of the Lion's child;
Thou the delight, through den and cover,
Of
the young life at the breast of the wild,
Yet, oh, fulfill, fulfill The sign of the Eagles'
Kill!
Be the vision accepted, albeit horrible....
But I-ê, I-ê! Stay her, O Paian, stay!

For lo, upon other evil her heart she setteth,
Long wastes of wind, held ship and
unventured sea,
On, on, till another Shedding of Blood be wrought:
They kill but
feast not; they pray not; the law is broken;
Strife in the flesh, and the bride she obeyeth
not,
And beyond, beyond, there abideth in wrath reawoken--
It plotteth, it haunteth
the house, yea, it never forgetteth--
Wrath for a child to be."
So Calchas, reading the wayside eagles' sign,
Spake to the
Kings, blessings and words of bale;
And like his song be thine,
_Sorrow, sing sorrow: but good prevail, prevail_!
(_Such religion belongs to old and barbarous gods, and brings no peace. I turn to Zeus,
who has shown man how to Learn by Suffering_.)
Zeus! Zeus, whate'er He be,
If this name He love to hear
This He shall be called of
me.
Searching earth and sea and air
Refuge nowhere can I find
Save Him only, if my mind
Will cast off before it die

The burden of this vanity.
One there was who reigned of old,
Big with wrath to brave and blast,
Lo, his name is
no more told!
And who followed met at last
His Third-thrower, and is gone.

Only
they whose hearts have known
Zeus, the Conqueror and the Friend,
They shall win

their vision's end;
Zeus the Guide, who made man turn
Thought-ward, Zeus, who did ordain
Man by
Suffering shall Learn.
So the heart of him,