The Agamemnon of Aeschylus | Page 9

your King's return!?For Agamemnon cometh! A great light?Cometh to men and gods out of the night.?Grand greeting give him--aye, it need be grand--?Who, God's avenging mattock in his hand,?Hath wrecked Troy's towers and digged her soil beneath,?Till her gods' houses, they are things of death;?Her altars waste, and blasted every seed?Whence life might rise! So perfect is his deed,?So dire the yoke on Ilion he hath cast,?The first Atreides, King of Kings at last,?And happy among men! To whom we give?Honour most high above all things that live.?For Paris nor his guilty land can score?The deed they wrought above the pain they bore.?"Spoiler and thief," he heard God's judgement pass;?Whereby he lost his plunder, and like grass?Mowed down his father's house and all his land;?And Troy pays twofold for the sin she planned.
LEADER.
Be glad, thou Herald of the Greek from Troy!
HERALD.
So glad, I am ready, if God will, to die!
LEADER.
Did love of this land work thee such distress?
HERALD.
The tears stand in mine eyes for happiness.
LEADER.
Sweet sorrow was it, then, that on you fell.
HERALD.
How sweet? I cannot read thy parable.
LEADER.
To pine again for them that loved you true.
HERALD.
Did ye then pine for us, as we for you?
LEADER.
The whole land's heart was dark, and groaned for thee.
HERALD.
Dark? For what cause? Why should such darkness be?
LEADER.
Silence in wrong is our best medicine here.
HERALD.
Your kings were gone. What others need you fear?
LEADER.
'Tis past! Like thee now, I could gladly die.
HERALD.
Even so! 'Tis past, and all is victory.?And, for our life in those long years, there were?Doubtless some grievous days, and some were fair.?Who but a god goes woundless all his way?....?Oh, could I tell the sick toil of the day,?The evil nights, scant decks ill-blanketed;?The rage and cursing when our daily bread?Came not! And then on land 'twas worse than all.?Our quarters close beneath the enemy's wall;?And rain--and from the ground the river dew--Wet,?always wet! Into our clothes it grew,?Plague-like, and bred foul beasts in every hair.?Would I could tell how ghastly midwinter?Stole down from Ida till the birds dropped dead!?Or the still heat, when on his noonday bed?The breathless blue sea sank without a wave!....?Why think of it? They are past and in the grave,?All those long troubles. For I think the slain?Care little if they sleep or rise again;?And we, the living, wherefore should we ache?With counting all our lost ones, till we wake?The old malignant fortunes? If Good-bye?Comes from their side, Why, let them go, say I.?Surely for us, who live, good doth prevail?Unchallenged, with no wavering of the scale;?Wherefore we vaunt unto these shining skies,?As wide o'er sea and land our glory flies:?"By men of Argolis who conquered Troy,?These spoils, a memory and an ancient joy,?Are nailed in the gods' houses throughout Greece."?Which whoso readeth shall with praise increase?Our land, our kings, and God's grace manifold?Which made these marvels be.--My tale is told.
LEADER.
Indeed thou conquerest me. Men say, the light?In old men's eyes yet serves to learn aright.?But Clytemnestra and the House should hear?These tidings first, though I their health may share.
[_During the last words_ CLYTEMNESTRA _has entered from the Palace_.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Long since I lifted up my voice in joy,?When the first messenger from flaming Troy?Spake through the dark of sack and overthrow.?And mockers chid me: "Because beacons show?On the hills, must Troy be fallen? Quickly born?Are women's hopes!" Aye, many did me scorn;?Yet gave I sacrifice; and by my word?Through all the city our woman's cry was heard,?Lifted in blessing round the seats of God,?And slumbrous incense o'er the altars glowed?In fragrance.
And for thee, what need to tell?Thy further tale? My lord himself shall well?Instruct me. Yet, to give my lord and king?All reverent greeting at his homecoming--?What dearer dawn on woman's eyes can flame?Than this, which casteth wide her gate to acclaim?The husband whom God leadeth safe from war?--?Go, bear my lord this prayer: That fast and far?He haste him to this town which loves his name;?And in his castle may he find the same?Wife that he left, a watchdog of the hall,?True to one voice and fierce to others all;?A body and soul unchanged, no seal of his?Broke in the waiting years.--No thought of ease?Nor joy from other men hath touched my soul,?Nor shall touch, until bronze be dyed like wool.?A boast so faithful and so plain, I wot,?Spoke by a royal Queen doth shame her not.
[_Exit_ CLYTEMNESTRA.
LEADER.
Let thine ear mark her message. 'Tis of fair?Seeming, and craves a clear interpreter....?But, Herald, I would ask thee; tell me true?Of Menelaus. Shall he come with you,?Our land's belovèd crown, untouched of ill?
HERALD.
I know not how to speak false words of weal?For friends to reap thereof a harvest true.
LEADER.
Canst speak of truth with comfort joined? Those two?Once parted, 'tis a gulf not lightly crossed.
HERALD.
Your king is vanished from the Achaian host,?He and his ship! Such comfort have I brought.
LEADER.
Sailed he