her's board,
The innocent voice man's love came never nigh,
Who joined to his her little paean-cry
When the third cup was poured....
What came thereafter I saw not neither tell.
But the craft of Calchas failed not.--'Tis written, He
Who Suffereth Shall Learn; the law holdeth well.
And that which is to be,
Ye will know at last; why weep before the hour?
For come it shall, as out of darkness dawn.
Only may good from all this evil flower;
So prays this Heart of Argos, this frail tower
Guarding the land alone.
[_As they cease,_ CLYTEMNESTRA _comes from the Palace with Attendants.
She has finished her prayer and sacrifice, and is now wrought up to face
the meeting with her husband. The Leader approaches her_.
LEADER.
Before thy state, O Queen, I bow mine eyes.
'Tis written, when the man's throne empty lies,
The woman shall be honoured.--Hast thou heard
Some tiding sure? Or is it Hope, hath stirred
To fire these altars? Dearly though we seek
To learn, 'tis thine to speak or not to speak.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Glad-voiced, the old saw telleth, comes this morn,
The Star-child of a dancing midnight born,
And beareth to thine ear a word of joy
Beyond all hope: the Greek hath taken Troy.
LEADER.
How?
Thy word flies past me, being incredible.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Ilion is ours. No riddling tale I tell.
LEADER.
Such joy comes knocking at the gate of tears.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Aye, 'tis a faithful heart that eye declares.
LEADER.
What warrant hast thou? Is there proof of this?
CLYTEMNESTRA.
There is; unless a God hath lied there is.
LEADER.
Some dream-shape came to thee in speaking guise?
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Who deemeth me a dupe of drowsing eyes?
LEADER.
Some word within that hovereth without wings?
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Am I a child to hearken to such things?
LEADER.
Troy fallen?--But how long? When fell she, say?
CLYTEMNESTRA.
The very night that mothered this new day.
LEADER.
And who of heralds with such fury came?
CLYTEMNESTRA.
A Fire-god, from Mount Ida scattering flame.
Whence starting, beacon after beacon burst
In flaming message hitherward. Ida first
Told Hermes' Lemnian Rock, whose answering sign
Was caught by towering Athos, the divine,
With pines immense--yea, fishes of the night
Swam skyward, drunken with that leaping light,
Which swelled like some strange sun, till dim and far
Makistos' watchmen marked a glimmering star;
They, nowise loath
|