MEN. O wretched woman!
HEL. Wretched, wretched me!
Thus did she waft me to th’ Egyptian coast.
MEN. Then in thy stead to him that image gave,
As thou inform’st me.
HEL. But alas! what woes
Thence visited our wretched house! ah mother!
Ah me!
MEN. What sayst thou?
HEL. Leda is no more.
Around her neck she fixed the deadly noose
On my account, through my unhappy nuptials
O’erwhelmed with foul disgrace.
MEN. Alas! But lives
Hermione our daughter?
HEL. Yet unwedded,
Yet childless, O my husband, she bewails
My miserable ’spousals, my disgrace.
MEN. O Paris, who hast utterly o’erthrown
All my devoted house, these curst events,
Both thee, and myriads of the Grecian troops
With brazen arms refulgent, have destroyed.
HEL. But from my country in an evil hour,
From my loved native city, and from you,
Me hath the goddess driven, a wretch accursed
In that I left our home, and bridal bed,
Which yet I left not, for those base espousals.
CHOR. If ye hereafter meet with happier fortune,
This may atone for all ye have endured
Already.
MES. To me too, O Menelaus,
Communicate a portion of that joy
Which I perceive, but know not whence it springs.
MEN. Thou too, old man, shalt in our conference share.
MES. Was not she then the cause of all the woes
Endured at Troy?
MEN. Not she: we were deceived
By those immortal Powers, whose plastic hand
Moulded a cloud into that baleful image.
MES. What words are these you utter? have we toiled
In vain, and only for an empty cloud?
MEN. These deeds were wrought by Juno, and the strife
’Twixt the three goddesses.
MES. But is this woman
Indeed your wife?
MEN. E’en she: and thou for this
On my assertion safely mayst depend.
MES. My daughter, O how variable is Jove,
And how inscrutable! for he with ease
Whirls us around, now here, now there; one suffers
Full many toils; another, who ne’er knew
What sorrow was, is swallowed up at once
In swift perdition, nor in Fortune’s gifts
A firm and lasting tenure doth enjoy.
Thou and thy husband have endured a war,
Of slander thou, but he of pointed spears:
For by the tedious labours he endured
He nothing could obtain, but now obtains
The greatest and the happiest of all boons,
Which comes to him unsought. Thou hast not shamed
Thy aged father, and the sons of Jove,
Nor acted as malignant rumour speaks.
I now renew thy hymeneal rite,
And still am mindful of the torch I bore,
Running before the steeds, when in a car
Thou with this favoured bridegroom wert conveyed
From thy paternal mansion’s happy gates.
For worthless is that servant who neglects
His master’s interests, nor partakes their joys,
Nor feels for their afflictions. I was born
Indeed a slave, yet I with generous slaves
Would still be numbered, for although the name
I bear is abject, yet my soul is free.
Far better this, than if I had at once
Suffered two evils, a corrupted heart,
And vile subjection to another’s will.
MEN. Courage, old man: for thou hast borne my shield,
And in my cause endured unnumbered toils,
Sharing my dangers: now partake my joys;
Go tell the friends I left, what thou hast seen,
And our auspicious fortunes: on the shore
Bid them remain, till our expected conflict
Is finished; and observe how we may sail
From this loathed coast; that, with our better fortune
Conspiring, we, if possible, may ’scape
From these barbarians.
MES. Your commands, O king,
Shall be obeyed. But I perceive how vain
And how replete with falsehood is the voice
Of prophets: no dependence can be placed
Upon the flames that from the altar rise,
Or on the voices of the feathered choir.
It is the height of folly to suppose
That birds are able to instruct mankind.
For Calchas, to the host, nor by his words
Nor signs, declared, “I for a cloud behold
My friends in battle slain.” The seer was mute,
And Troy in vain was taken. But perhaps
You will rejoin, “’Twas not the will of Heaven
That he should speak.” Why then do we consult
These prophets? We by sacrifice should ask
For blessings from the gods, and lay aside
All auguries. This vain delusive bait
Was but invented to beguile mankind.
No sluggard e’er grew rich by divination,
The best of seers are Prudence and Discernment.
[_Exit_ MESSENGER.
CHOR. My sentiments on prophets well accord
With those of this old man. He whom the gods
Th’ immortal gods befriend, in his own house
Hath a response that never can mislead.
HEL. So be it. All thus far is well. But how
You came with safety, O unhappy man,
From Troy, ’twill nought avail for me to know;
Yet with the sorrows of their friends, have friends
A wish to be acquainted.
MEN. Thou hast asked
A multitude of questions in one short
And blended sentence. Why should I recount
To thee our sufferings on the Ægean deep,
Those treacherous beacons, by the vengeful hand
Of Nauplius kindled on Eubœa’s rocks,
The towns of Crete, or in the Libyan realm,
Which I have visited, and the famed heights
Of Perseus? never could my words assuage
Thy curiosity, and, by repeating
My woes to thee, I should but grieve the more,
And yet a second time those sufferings feel.
HEL. You in your answer have been more discreet
Than I who such a question did propose.
But pass o’er all beside, and only tell me
How long you wandered o’er the briny main.
MEN. Year after year, besides the ten at Troy,
Seven tedious revolutions of the sun.
HEL. The time you speak of, O unhappy man,
Is long indeed: but from those dangers saved
You hither come to bleed.
MEN. What words are these?
What dost thou mean? O, how hast thou undone me!
HEL. Fly from these regions with your utmost speed:
Or he to whom this house belongs will slay you.
MEN. What have I done that merits such a fate?
HEL. You hither come an unexpected guest,
And are a hindrance to my bridal rite.
MEN. Is there a man then who presumes to wed
My consort?
HEL. And with arrogance to treat me,
Which I, alas! have hitherto endured.
MEN. Of private rank, in his own strength alone
Doth he confide, or rules he o’er the land?
HEL. Lord of this region, royal Proteus’ son.
MEN. This is the very riddle which I heard
From yonder female servant.
HEL. At which gate
Of this barbarian palace did you stand?
MEN. Here, whence I like a beggar was repelled.
HEL. What, did you beg for food! ah wretched me!
MEN. The fact was thus: though I that abject name
Assumed not.
HEL. You then know, it seems, the whole
About my nuptials.
MEN. This I know: but whether
Thou has escaped th’ embraces of the king
I still am uninformed.
HEL. That I have kept
Your bed still spotless, may you rest assured.
MEN. How canst thou prove the fact? if thou speak truth
To me, it will give pleasure.
HEL. Do you see,
Close to the tomb, my miserable seat?
MEN. I on the ground behold a couch: but what
Hast thou to do with that, O wretched woman?
HEL. Here I a suppliant bowed, that I might ’scape
From those espousals.
MEN. Couldst thou find no altar,
Or dost thou follow the barbarian mode?
HEL. Equally with the temples of the gods
Will this protect me.
MEN. Is not then my bark
Allowed to waft thee to the Spartan shore?
HEL. Rather the sword than Helen’s bridal bed
Awaits you.
MEN. Thus should I of all mankind
Be the most wretched.
HEL. Let not shame prevent
Your ’scaping from this land.
MEN. And leaving thee,
For whom I laid the walls of Ilion waste?
HEL. ’Twere better than to perish in the cause
Of me your consort.
MEN. Such unmanly deeds
As these thou speak’st of would disgrace the chief
Who conquered Troy.
HEL. You cannot slay the king,
Which is perhaps the project you have formed.
MEN. Hath he then such a body as no steel
Can penetrate?
HEL. My reasons you shall know.
But it becomes not a wise man t’ attempt
What cannot be performed.
MEN. Shall I submit
My hands in silence to the galling chain?
HEL. You know not how to act in these dire straits
To which we are reduced: but of some plot
Must we avail ourselves.
MEN. ’Twere best to die
In some brave action than without a conflict.
HEL. One only hope of safety yet remains.
MEN. By gold can it be purchased, or depends it
On dauntless courage, or persuasive words?
HEL. Of your arrival if the monarch hear not.
MEN. Who can inform him? he will never sure
Know who I am.
HEL. He hath a sure associate,
Within his palace, equal to the gods.
MEN. Some voice which from its inmost chambers sounds?
HEL. No: ’tis his sister, her they call Theonoe.
MEN. She bears indeed a most prophetic name;
But say, what mighty deeds can she perform?
HEL. All things she knows, and will inform her brother
That you are here.
MEN. We both, alas! must die,
Nor can I possibly conceal myself.
HEL. Could our united supplications move her?
MEN. To do what action? Into what vain hope
Wouldst thou mislead me?
HEL. Not to tell her brother
That you are in the land.
MEN. If we prevail
Thus far, can we escape from these domains?
HEL. With ease, if she concur in our design,
But not without her knowledge.
MEN. This depends
On thee: for woman best prevails with woman.
HEL. Around her knees these suppliant hands I’ll twine.
MEN. Go then; but what if she reject our prayer?
HEL. You certainly must die; and I by force
Shall to the king be wedded.
MEN. Thou betray’st me;
That force thou talk’st of is but mere pretence.
HEL. But by your head that sacred oath I swear.
MEN. What sayst thou, wilt thou die, and never change
Thy husband?
HEL. By the self-same sword: my corse
Shall lie beside you.
MEN. To confirm the words
Which thou hast spoken, take my hand.
HEL. I take
Your hand, and swear that after you are dead
I will not live.
MEN. And I will put an end
To my existence, if deprived of thee.
HEL. But how shall we die so as to procure
Immortal glory?
MEN. Soon as on the tomb
Thee I have slain, myself will I destroy.
But first a mighty conflict shall decide
Our claims who to thy bridal bed aspire.
Let him who dares, draw near: for the renown
I won at Troy, I never will belie,
Nor yet returning to the Grecian shore
Suffer unnumbered taunts for having reft
Thetis of her Achilles, and beheld
Ajax the Telamonian hero slain,
With Neleus’ grandson, though I dare not bleed
To save my consort. Yet on thy behalf
Without regret, will I surrender up
This fleeting life: for if the gods are wise
They lightly scatter dust upon the tomb.
Of the brave man who by his foes is slain,
But pile whole mountains on the coward’s breast.
CHOR. O may the race of Tantalus, ye gods,
At length be prosperous, may their sorrows cease!
HEL. Wretch that I am! for such is my hard fate:
O Menelaus, we are lost for ever.
The prophetess Theonoe, from the palace
Comes forth: I hear the sounding gates unbarred.
Fly from this spot. But whither can you fly?
For your arrival here, full well she knows,
Absent, or present. How, O wretched me,
Am I undone! in safety you return
From Troy, from a barbarian land, to rush
Again upon the swords of fresh barbarians.