_THETIS._
The deep recesses of this rocky isle,
That far from undersea riseth to crown
Its flowery head above the circling waves,
A home for men with groves and gardens green,
I chose not ill to be the hiding-place
Of my loved son. Alas, I could not take him
To live in my blue caverns, where the nymphs
Own me for queen: and hateful is the earth
To me, and all remembrance, since that morn,
When, in the train of May wandering too far, 10
I trafficked with my shells and pearls to buy
Her fragrant roses and fresh lilies white.
Accurst the day and thou, ah, wretched Peleus,
Who forcedst me to learn the fears that women
Have for their mortal offspring: who but I,
Thetis, Poseidon’s daughter, who alone
But I of all the immortals have known this,
To bear and love a son in human kind?
And yet not wholly ill is the constraint,
Nor do I pity mortals to be born 20
Heirs of desire and death, and the rich thought
Denied to easy pleasure in the days
That neither bring nor take; tho’ more to me
Embittered with foreknowledge of a doom
Threatened by fate, and labour how to avert.
For to me, questioning the high decrees
By which the sweetly tyrannous stars allot
Their lives and deaths to men, answer was given
That for my son Achilles there was ruled
One of two things, and neither good; the better 30
A long and easy life, the worse a death
Untimely-glorious, which should set his name
First of the Greeks;—for so must seem to me
Better and worse, so even an earthly mother
Had for him chosen, tho’ for the right he died,
And conquered all the gods that succour Troy.—
But when I, thinking he must share my fear,
Showed him the choice, he made a mortal plunge
For glorious death, and would have straight gone forth
To seek it; but in tenderness for me,— 40
Whom without shame he honours, and in this
My love repays,—he to my tears consented
To hide him from his fate; and here he dwells
Disguised among the maidens like a maiden;—
For so his beauty and youth permit,—to serve
The daughter of the king of this fair isle,
Who calls him Pyrrha for his golden hair,
And knowing not prefers him o’er the rest.
But I with frequent visitings assure me
That he obeys; and,—for I have the power 50
To change my semblance,—I will sometimes run
In likeness of a young and timorous fawn
Before the maiden train, that give me chase
Far in the woods, till he outstrip them all;
Then turn I quick at bay with loved surprise,
And bid him hail: or like a snake I glide
Under the flowers, where they sit at play,
And showing suddenly my gleaming eyes,
All fly but he, and we may speak alone.
Thus oft my love will lead me, but to-day 60
More special need hath brought: for on the seas
I met at dawn a royal ship of Greece
Slow stemming toward this isle. What that might bode,
And who might sail thereon, I guessed; and taking
A dolphin’s shape, that thro’ the heavy waters
Tumbles in sport, around the labouring prow
I gambolled, till her idle crew stood by
To watch me from the wooden battlements.
And surely among them there full soon I saw,
Even as I feared, the man I feared, agaze 70
With hypocrite eyes, the prince of Ithaca,
That searcheth for Achilles: of all the Greeks
Whom most I dread, for his own endless wiles,
And for Athena’s aid. Him when I saw,
Lest I should be too late, I hither sped
To warn my son, and here shall meet him soon,—
Tho’ yet he hath not come,—for on these lawns
The damsels of the court are wont to play,
And he with them. Hark! see! even now. Nay, nay.
Alas! who cometh thus? Ah, by that gait 80
Crouching along, it is my persecutor,
Ulysses. Woe is me! I must fly hence.
Tho’ he should know me not, I fear to face him,
My hated foe, alert, invincible
Of will, full of self-love and mortal guile. [_Exit._
_Enter Ulysses from the bushes, followed by Diomede, who
wears a Lion’s skin._
_DIOMEDE._
We have made the circuit of the hill, and here
Into the gardens are come round again.
What now?
_ULYSSES._
Hush thou! Look there! Some one hath seen us.
He flies.
_Dio._ I see not.
_Ul._ Where the myrtle tops
Stir each in turn. He goeth toward the shore. 90
I must see him that seeth me. Bide thou.
[_Exit among the bushes._
_Dio._ Were I a dog, now, I might learn. Heigh ho!
Two hours and more we have wandered on this mountain,
Round and round, up and down, and round again,
Gardens, and lawns, meadows, and groves, and walks,
Thickets, and woods, the windings of the glades,
I have them all by rote. Each petty rill
We have tracked by rocky steps and paths about,
And peeped into its dank and mossy caves.
What sort of game should this Achilles be, 100
That we should seek him thus? Ah! back so soon?
What sport?
_Ul._ (_re-entering_). Well hit. ’Twas but a milk-white doe,
Some petted plaything of the young princess,
That fled our stranger steps.
_Dio._ And whither now
Turn we to seek Achilles?
_Ul._ Hark, Diomede:
My plot is laid and ready for thine ears.
Thou madest offer of thine aid; be patient,
And hear me.
_Dio._ I will hearken.
_Ul._ First, thou knowest
How since the day the Danaan kings took oath
To avenge the wrong done by the Trojan Paris 110
Against his host, the Spartan Menelaus,
One oracle hath thwarted us, which said
Our purpose should not prosper with the gods
Unless Achilles the young son of Thetis
Should lead our armies.
_Dio._ Certainly, so far
I am with you.
_Ul._ Next, when he was sought in vain,
Men looked to me; ay, and to me it fell
To learn that he was lurking in this isle
Of Scyros, in the court of Lycomedes. 119
The king denied the charge, adding in challenge,
That I might come and make what search I pleased;
Now mark...
_Dio_. I listen, but thou tellest nothing.
Why search we not the court if he be there,
Instead of this old hill?
_Ul._ ’Tis that I come to.
King Lycomedes hath been one of those
Who have held their arms aloof from our alliance,
On the main plea of this Achilles’ absence.
What if he play the game here for his friends,
And hide the lad lest they be forced to fight?
_Dio._ That well might be. And if the king would hide him, 130
Thy hope would hit upon him thus at hazard?
_Ul._ Call me not fool. Attend and hear my plot:
Nor marvel, Diomede, to learn that he,
Whom the high gods name champion of the Greeks,
Lurks in the habit of a girl disguised
Amid the maidens of this island court.
_Dio._ That were too strange. How guess you that?
_Ul._ My spies,
Who have searched the isle, say there’s no youth thereon,
Having Achilles’ age of sixteen years,
But is well known of native parentage. 140
Now Thetis’ son must be of wondrous beauty,
That could not scape inquiry; we therefore look
For what is hid, and not to be disguised
Save as I guess.
_Dio._ If this be so, thy purpose
Is darker still.
_Ul._ I lead thee by the steps
I came myself to take, slowly and surely...
And next this, that ’twere dull to ask the king
To help to find the thing he goes to hide:
Therefore the search must be without his knowledge.
’Twas thus I sent up Abas to the court, 150
Idly to engage him in preliminaries,
The while I work; my only hope being this,
To come myself to parley with the maidens;
Which to procure I brought with me aboard
A pedlar’s gear, and with such gawds and trinkets
As tickle girlish fancies, I shall steal
Upon them at their play; my hoary beard
And rags will set them at their ease; and while
They come about me, and turn o’er my pack,
I spy. If then Achilles be among them, 160
The lad’s indifference soon will mark him out;
When, watching my occasion, I’ll exhibit
Something that should provoke his eye and tongue.
If he betray himself, thou being at hand....
_Dio._ Why, ’tis a dirty trick.
_Ul._ Not if it wins.
_Dio._ Fie! fie!
In rags and a white beard?
_Ul._ No better way.
_Dio._ The better way were not to lose the hour
Hearkening to oracles, while our good ships
Rot, and our men grow stale. Why, you may see
Imperial Agamemnon in the eyes 171
Of all his armament walk daily forth
To take fresh note of sparrows and of snakes:
And if he spy an eagle, ’twill make talk
For twenty days. Would you have oracles,
Give me the whipping of the priests. Zeus help me!
If half the chiefs knew but their minds as I,
There’d be no parleying. I’ll to war alone
And with my eighty ships do what I may
’Gainst gods and men. Ay, and the greater odds
The better fighting.
_Ul._ Now ’tis thou that talkest. 181
_Dio._ Tell me then why we are prowling on this hill.
_Ul._ Excellent reasons. First that when I come
I may know how to come, and where to hide
From them I would not meet: and thereto this,
That if Achilles fly, he should not take us
At too great disadvantage: thou mayst head him,
Knowing the ground about, while I pursue.
He must not scape. But hark, ’tis time the plot
Were put to proof; already it must be noon; 190
And I hear steps and voices. Let us return
To the ship. If they that come be those we seek, ...
Hark, and ’tis they,—we can look back upon them.
I’ll be amongst them soon.
_Dio._ ’Tis a girl’s game.
[_Exeunt into the bushes._
_Enter Deidamia, Achilles as Pyrrha, with the chorus of
maidens._
_DEIDAMIA_ (_without_).