CHOR. I heard what yon prophetic maid foretold,
Who in the palace did unfold
The oracles; that to the shades profound
Of Erebus, beneath the ground
Interred, not yet hath Menelaus ta’en
His passage: on the stormy main
Still tossed, he cannot yet approach the strand,
The haven of the Spartan land:
The chief, who now his vagrant life bewails,
Without a friend, unfurls his sails,
From Ilion’s realm to every distant shore
Borne o’er the deep with luckless oar.
HEL. I to this hallowed tomb again repair,
Now I have heard the grateful tidings uttered
By sage Theonoe, who distinctly knows
All that hath happened? for she says my lord
Is living, and yet views the solar beams:
But after passing o’er unnumbered straits
Of ocean, to a vagrant’s wretched life
Full long inured, on these Ægyptian coasts,
When he his toils hath finished, shall arrive.
Yet there is one thing more, which she hath left
Unmentioned, whether he shall come with safety.
This question I neglected to propose,
O’erjoyed when she informed me he yet lives;
She also adds, that he is near the land,
From his wrecked ship, with his few friends, cast forth,
O mayst thou come at length; for ever dear
To me wilt thou arrive. Ha! who is that?
Am not I caught, through some deceitful scheme
Of Proteus’ impious son, in hidden snares?
Like a swift courser, or the madding priestess
Of Bacchus, shall I not with hasty step
Enter the tomb, because his looks are fierce
Who rushes on, and strives to overtake me?
MEN. On thee I call, who to the yawning trench
Around that tomb, and blazing altars hiest
Precipitate. Stay: wherefore dost thou fly?
With what amazement doth thy presence strike
And almost leave me speechless!
HEL. O my friends,
I suffer violence; for from the tomb
I by this man am dragged, who to the king
Will give me, from whose nuptial couch I fled.
MEN. We are no pirates, nor the ministers
Of lustful villany.
HEL. Yet is the vest
You wear unseemly.
MEN. Stay thy rapid flight,
Dismiss thy fears.
HEL. I stop, now I have reached
This hallowed spot.
MEN. Say, woman, who thou art;
What face do I behold?
HEL. But who are you?
For I by the same reasons am induced
To ask this question.
MEN. Never did I see
A greater likeness.
HEL. O ye righteous gods!
For ’tis a privilege the gods alone
Confer, to recognize our long-lost friends.
MEN. Art thou a Grecian or a foreign dame?
HEL. Of Greece: but earnestly I wish to know
Whence you derive your origin.
MEN. In thee
A wonderful resemblance I discern
Of Helen.
HEL. Menelaus’ very features
These eyes in you behold, still at a loss
Am I for words t’ express my thoughts.
MEN. Full clearly
Hast thou discovered a most wretched man.
HEL. O to thy consort’s arms at length restored!
MEN. To what a consort? O forbear to touch
My garment!
HEL. E’en the same, whom to your arms,
A noble bride, my father Tyndarus gave.
MEN. Send forth, O Hecate, thou orb of light,
Some more benignant spectre.
HEL. You in me
Behold not one of those who minister
At Hecate’s abhorred nocturnal rites.
MEN. Nor am I sure the husband of two wives.
HEL. Say, to whom else in wedlock are you joined?
MEN. To her who lies concealed in yonder cave,
The prize I hither bring from vanquished Troy.
HEL. You have no wife but me.
MEN. If I retain
My reason yet, these eyes are sure deceived.
HEL. Seem you not then, while me you thus behold,
To view your real consort?
MEN. Though your person
Resemble hers, no positive decision
Can I presume to form.
HEL. Observe me well,
And mark wherein we differ. Who can judge
With greater certainty than you?
MEN. Thou bear’st
Her semblance, I confess.
HEL. Who can inform you
Better than your own eyes?
MEN. What makes me doubt
Is this; because I have another wife.
HEL. To the domains of Troy I never went:
It was my image only.
MEN. Who can fashion
Such bodies, with the power of sight endued?
HEL. Composed of ether, you a consort have,
Heaven’s workmanship.
MEN. Wrought by what plastic god?
For the events thou speak’st of are most wondrous.
HEL. Lest Paris should obtain me, this exchange
Was made by Juno.
MEN. How couldst thou be here,
At the same time, and in the Phrygian realm?
HEL. The name, but not the body, can be present
At once in many places.
MEN. O release me;
For I came hither in an evil hour.
HEL. Will you then leave me here, and bear away
That shadow of a wife?
MEN. Yet, O farewell,
Because thou art like Helen.
HEL. I’m undone:
For though my husband I again have found,
Yet shall not I possess him.
MEN. My conviction,
From all those grievous toils I have endured
At Ilion, I derive, and not from thee.
HEL. Ah, who is there more miserable than I am?
My dearest friends desert me: I, to Greece,
To my dear native land, shall ne’er return.