The Trojan women of Euripides | Page 6

crownless head: Rend the cheek till the tears run red! A lying man and a pitiless Shall be lord of me, a heart full-flown With scorn of righteousness: O heart of a beast where law is none, Where all things change so that lust be fed, The oath and the deed, the right and the wrong, Even the hate of the forked tongue: Even the hate turns and is cold, False as the love that was false of old!
O Women of Troy, weep for me! Yea, I am gone: I am gone my ways. Mine is the crown of misery, The bitterest day of all our days.
LEADER.
Thy fate thou knowest, Queen: but I know not What lord of South or North has won my lot.
TALTHYBIUS.
Go, seek Cassandra, men! Make your best speed, That I may leave her with the King, and lead These others to their divers lords.... Ha, there! What means that sudden light? Is it the flare Of torches?
[Light is seen shining through the crevices of the second hut on the right. He moves towards it.
Would they fire their prison rooms, Or how, these dames of Troy?--'Fore God, the dooms Are known, and now they burn themselves and die[18] Rather than sail with us! How savagely In days like these a free neck chafes beneath Its burden!... Open! Open quick! Such death Were bliss to them, it may be: but 'twill bring Much wrath, and leave me shamed before the King!
HECUBA.
There is no fire, no peril: 'tis my child, Cassandra, by the breath of God made wild.
[The door opens from within and CASSANDRA enters, white-robed and wreathed like a Priestess, a great torch in her hand. She is singing softly to herself and does not see the Herald or the scene before her.
CASSANDRA.
Lift, lift it high: [Strophe. Give it to mine hand! Lo, I bear a flame Unto God! I praise his name. I light with a burning brand This sanctuary. Blessèd is he that shall wed, And blessèd, blessèd am I In Argos: a bride to lie With a king in a king's bed.
Hail, O Hymen[19] red, O Torch that makest one! Weepest thou, Mother mine own? Surely thy cheek is pale With tears, tears that wail For a land and a father dead. But I go garlanded: I am the Bride of Desire: Therefore my torch is borne-- Lo, the lifting of morn, Lo, the leaping of fire!--
For thee, O Hymen bright, For thee, O Moon of the Deep, So Law hath charged, for the light Of a maid's last sleep.
Awake, O my feet, awake: [Antistrophe. Our father's hope is won! Dance as the dancing skies Over him, where he lies Happy beneath the sun!... Lo, the Ring that I make....
[She makes a circle round her with a torch, and visions appear to her.
Apollo!... Ah, is it thou? O shrine in the laurels cold, I bear thee still, as of old, Mine incense! Be near to me now.
[She waves the torch as though bearing incense.
O Hymen, Hymen fleet: Quick torch that makest one!... How? Am I still alone? Laugh as I laugh, and twine In the dance, O Mother mine: Dear feet, be near my feet!
Come, greet ye Hymen, greet Hymen with songs of pride: Sing to him loud and long, Cry, cry, when the song Faileth, for joy of the bride!
O Damsels girt in the gold Of Ilion, cry, cry ye, For him that is doomed of old To be lord of me!
LEADER.
O hold the damsel, lest her trancèd feet Lift her afar, Queen, toward the Hellene fleet!
HECUBA.
O Fire, Fire, where men make marriages Surely thou hast thy lot; but what are these Thou bringest flashing? Torches savage-wild And far from mine old dreams.--Alas, my child, How little dreamed I then of wars or red Spears of the Greek to lay thy bridal bed! Give me thy brand; it hath no holy blaze Thus in thy frenzy flung. Nor all thy days Nor all thy griefs have changed them yet, nor learned Wisdom.--Ye women, bear the pine half burned To the chamber back; and let your drownèd eyes Answer the music of these bridal cries!
[She takes the torch and gives it to one of the women.
CASSANDRA.
O Mother, fill mine hair with happy flowers, And speed me forth. Yea, if my spirit cowers, Drive me with wrath! So liveth Loxias[20], A bloodier bride than ever Helen was Go I to Agamemnon, Lord most high Of Hellas!... I shall kill him, mother; I Shall kill him, and lay waste his house with fire As he laid ours. My brethren and my sire Shall win again....[21]
(Checking herself) But part I must let be, And speak not. Not the axe that craveth me, And more than me; not the dark wanderings Of mother-murder that my bridal brings, And all