B00ARI2G5C EBOK (31 page)

For on her knees the royal victim here must die,

But then at once, wrapped up, though headless to be sure,

Have decent seemly burial, as befits her rank.

CHORUS LEADER
. The queen, my mistress, stands aside and meditates,

The girls are wilting like mown grass on meadowlands;

But being the eldest I, as sacred duty bids,

Would speak with you now, great-great-ancient of us all.

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You are experienced, wise, and seem to wish us well,

Although these brainless creatures showed you scant respect.

Say, therefore, if you know some chance of saving us.

PHORCYAS
. The answer’s easy, for the queen alone may choose

To save herself and you too, her appendages;

But swift resolve is needed, there must be no delay.

CHORUS
. Wise and venerated sibyl, oldest, noblest of the Fates,

Close your golden shears, and tell us rather how to save our lives,

For our little limbs already seem to sway and swing and dangle,

And the feeling is unpleasant: all their pleasure was in dancing

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And in some dear boy’s embrace.

HELEN
. Let these be fearful; I feel sorrow, but no fear.

And yet, if you could save us, we would show gratitude.

The wise and circumspect indeed may often find a way

To do the impossible; therefore tell us what you know.

CHORUS
. Speak and tell us, tell us quickly: how shall we escape the dreadful

Deadly snares that now are hanging like a doleful necklace round us,

Knots of peril drawing closer? In advance, alas, we feel them

Choking, throttling us already: will you, Rhea, noble mother

Of the gods, not pity us?

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PHORCYAS
. Have you the patience, as my long account unfolds,

To listen quietly? Many tales I have to tell.

CHORUS
. Patience enough! To listen is to be still alive!

PHORCYAS
. One who remains at home and guards the house’s wealth,

Or keeps its high and noble walls in good repair

And can protect its roof from the intrusive rain,

Shall have good fortune and a life of many days.

But one who wantonly and lightly oversteps

The threshold’s sacred boundary with fugitive feet

Will find, returning, that although the walls still stand,

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All else has suffered change or even been destroyed.

HELEN
. What is the point here of these well-known platitudes?

Tell us your tale, and let vexatious matters be.

PHORCYAS
. I speak historically, intending no reproach.

King Menelaus sailed piratically to and fro,

Attacking bays and shores and islands at his whim,

Bringing rich booty back from every port of call.

The siege of Troy, that venture took him ten long years,

And how much longer to return I cannot say.

But here at home, how stands the high-exalted house

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Of Tyndareus, how stands his kingdom round about?

HELEN
. Is a censorious nature so ingrained in you

That your mouth opens only to upbraid and scold?

PHORCYAS
. A mountain region, desolate for many years,

Rises to Sparta’s north, with high Taÿgetus

Behind it; there Eurotas takes its origin,

A lively stream at first, then broad between the reeds

Down-rolling through our valley where it feeds your swans.

Unnoticed there among those sheltering heights, a bold

Invading race has settled: from Cimmerian night

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Southwards they pressed, and built unconquerable towers,

A fortress whence to plague our people as they please.

HELEN
. It seems impossible: how did they accomplish this?

PHORCYAS
. It took them twenty years or so, but they had time.

HELEN
. Are they confederate bandits, or is one their king?

PHORCYAS
. They are not bandits; one is ruler of them all,

And not ignoble, though I too have felt his power:

He could have taken everything, but was satisfied

Not, as he said, with tribute, but with a few gifts.

HELEN
. What does he look like?

PHORCYAS
. Even I find him not at all

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Displeasing. He is well-proportioned, confident

And lively too, and more intelligent than most Greeks.

They call his people barbarous, but none of them,

I think, could match the cruelty of those cannibal-

Heroes, those many ogres at the siege of Troy.

He is magnanimous, I would trust myself to him.

As for his castle, that’s a sight you should behold!

Quite different from these great crude lumps of masonry

Your forebears have thrown up here higgle-pigglewise,

In Cyclopean fashion hurling one gross rock

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Grossly upon the next! What he constructs is all

Straight lines across and up and down and regular.

Just look from outside, how it strives up heavenwards,

So rigid, so well-joined, and mirror-smooth as steel!

No climbing here, no foothold even for the thought.

Great courtyards too in the interior, with all kinds

Of buildings round them, for all manner of purposes:

Columns and little columns, arches large and small

You’ll see there; balconies, galleries to look out and in,

And coats of arms.

CHORUS
. Why, what are coats of arms?

PHORCYAS
. You will

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Recall the shield of Ajax, with its intertwined

Snakes, and how each of those seven fighters against Thebes

Bore such a shield-device of rich significance:

They showed the moon, the stars against the night-dark sky,

Goddesses, heroes, a siege-ladder, torches, swords,

And other such fierce perils, all good cities’ bane.

Such emblems they have too, our northern warrior-host,

Bright-hued, to symbolize their ancient ancestors:

Lions and eagles you will see there, beaks and claws,

The horns of wild bulls, wings and roses, peacocks’ tails,

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And stripes of gold and black and silver, blue and red.

Such things they hang in rows upon the walls, in halls

Vast beyond measure, halls as wide as all the world;

Halls good for dancing.

CHORUS
. Are there dancers there as well?

PHORCYAS
. The very best! Fresh youngsters, boys with golden hair;

They smell of youth; who else but Paris smelt so sweet

When he approached the queen too closely?

HELEN
. It is not

Your part to speak of that; finish your narrative!

PHORCYAS
. The last word’s yours: take thought, give your consent aloud,

And I’ll at once surround you with that castle.

CHORUS
. Say,

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Oh say that brief word, save yourself and us as well!

HELEN
. What, have I cause to fear the king my husband would

Commit such cruel outrage as to injure me?

PHORCYAS
. Have you forgotten the slain Paris’s brother, your

Deïphobus, who won you widowed, and in head-

Strong lust, enjoyed you? And how monstrously the king

Then mutilated him, cut off his nose and ears

And various other parts? A dreadful sight it was.

HELEN
. Indeed he did that to him, did it because of me.

PHORCYAS
. And now because of him hell do the same to you.

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Beauty cannot be shared; who once possessed it whole

Destroys it rather, cursing all co-partnership.

[
Trumpets in the distance. The
CHORUS
starts in alarm
.]

Sharp as the trumpet blares, ear-splitting, tearing deep

Into our guts, just so the claws of jealousy

Clutch at a man’s heart; for he never can forget

What he possessed, and lost, and now does not possess.

CHORUS
. Do you not hear the sound of war-horns? Do you not see the weapons flash?

PHORCYAS
. Lord and king, I bid you welcome! I will give full reckoning.

CHORUS
. What of us?

PHORCYAS
. I told you plainly; her death stares you in the face,

And in there your own awaits you. There’s no way you can be saved.

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[
A pause
.]

HELEN
. I have considered what step now I dare to take.

You are a hostile demon, as I clearly sense,

And in your hands, I fear, evil will come of good.

But to the castle I consent to follow you:

That first. The rest I know; what thoughts in doing this

The queen may leave unuttered in her inmost heart,

These let no man discern. Old woman, now lead on!

CHORUS
. Oh how gladly we set out

And hasten to follow her!

Behind us is death,

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And before us once again

The unassailable wall

Of a towering fortress:

May it protect us safely,

Just as safely as Troy’s battlements,

For they indeed were breached

Only by contemptible cunning.

[
Clouds envelop the background and foreground, spreading
ad libitum.]

But what is this?

Look about you, sisters!

Was it not clear daylight?

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Trails of mist are drifting up

From Eurotas’s sacred stream;

Already its delightful banks,

Garlanded with reeds, have vanished;

And the swans, so gently and

Freely gliding, so graceful and proud,

Swimming companionably together,

Alas, I see them no more!

And yet, and yet

I can hear them singing,

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Far away, with veiled voices—

A song that presages death, they say!

Oh let it not also foretell

Our own destruction in the end

Instead of the promised rescue;

Death for us all, the swan-like,

With our beautiful long white necks,

And for our lady, the swan-begotten.

Woe, ah woe to us all!

Mist already has veiled

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All that surrounded us.

We can no longer see each other!

What is happening? Are we walking,

Or merely hovering

With dainty steps over the ground?

Do you see nothing? Is Hermes perhaps not

Hovering ahead of us? Is that not the glint

Of his golden staff, beckoning, commanding us

Back again to that dismal place of grey dawning,

The place full of intangible shapes:

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Back to the overfilled, ever empty Hades?

Yes, a sudden gloom descending robs of light the mist’s dispersal;

All is dark grey, brown as walls are; walls rear up against our eyes here,

Our free eyes, walled in so sternly: by a courtyard? by a dungeon?

Either is a dreadful prison! Sisters, once again we are captives,

Captive more than ever now!

[
Surrounded by buildings in a rich fantastic medieval style
.]

CHORUS LEADER
. How rash and foolish, truly womanish you are,

Dependent on the moment, changeable as air,

As luck and ill luck, bearing neither of the two

With equanimity! Normally your squabbling tongues

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Are all at variance with each other; only when

Joy or affliction strikes you do you howl and laugh

In the same tune. Be silent now, and wait to hear

The queen’s decision for herself and all of us.

HELEN
. Where are you, Pythian priestess, or whatever you are?

Come out to us from this grim castle’s vaulted halls!

If you have gone perhaps to announce me to the strange

Warrior lord, that he may now receive me well,

I thank you; take me to him quickly! All I want

Now is an end to wandering. All I ask is rest.

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CHORUS LEADER
. Vainly you search, oh queen; for that offending shape

Has vanished from our sight, or stayed behind perhaps

Deep in the fog, out of the midst of which somehow

We have come here so swiftly, taking not a step;

Or dubiously perhaps she wanders in the labyrinth

Of this miraculous castle, many merged in one,

Seeking its master for your royal reception’s sake.

But look, already many servants are astir,

Up there in galleries, windows, portals, to and fro

They move with haste: all this proclaims the guest shall be

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Received with pomp and with a lordly welcoming.

CHORUS
. My spirits revive! Oh look now, oh look

How with solemn step, with seemliest gait,

In formal procession those many sweet youths

Come down towards us! How, and on whose

Command do they appear, so swiftly assembled

And ordered, this splendid host of young boys?

What shall I admire most: their delicate tread,

Or the hair that curls round their shining brows,

Or their cheeks perhaps that are pink as peaches

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And covered like peaches with softest down?

I long for a bite, yet I dread it too:

I have heard of a fruit that could fill the mouth

Of the eater with horrible ashes.
*

But the handsomest ones

Are approaching now;

What are they bringing?