Chapter 3

For against all men from of old Thou hast set thine hand as a curse, And cast out gods from their places. These things are spoken of thee. Strong kings and goodly with gold Thou hast found out arrows to pierce, And made their kingdoms and races As dust and surf of the sea. All these, overburdened with woes And with length of their days waxen weak, Thou slewest; and sentest moreover Upon Tyro an evil thing, Rent hair and a fetter and blows Making bloody the flower of the cheek, Though she lay by a god as a lover, Though fair, and the seed of a king. For of old, being full of thy fire, She endured not longer to wear On her bosom a saffron vest, On her shoulder an ashwood quiver; Being mixed and made one through desire With Enipeus, and all her hair Made moist with his mouth, and her breast Filled full of the foam of the river.

ATALANTA

Sun, and clear light among green hills, and day Late risen and long sought after, and you just gods Whose hands divide anguish and recompense, But first the sun's white sister, a maid in heaven, On earth of all maids worshipped--hail, and hear, And witness with me if not without sign sent, Not without rule and reverence, I a maid Hallowed, and huntress holy as whom I serve, Here in your sight and eyeshot of these men Stand, girt as they toward hunting, and my shafts Drawn; wherefore all ye stand up on my side, If I be pure and all ye righteous gods, Lest one revile me, a woman, yet no wife, That bear a spear for spindle, and this bow strung For a web woven; and with pure lips salute Heaven, and the face of all the gods, and dawn Filling with maiden flames and maiden flowers The starless fold o' the stars, and making sweet The warm wan heights of the air, moon-trodden ways And breathless gates and extreme hills of heaven. Whom, having offered water and bloodless gifts, Flowers, and a golden circlet of pure hair, Next Artemis I bid be favourable And make this day all golden, hers and ours, Gracious and good and white to the unblamed end. But thou, O well-beloved, of all my days Bid it be fruitful, and a crown for all, To bring forth leaves and bind round all my hair With perfect chaplets woven for thine of thee. For not without the word of thy chaste mouth, For not without law given and clean command, Across the white straits of the running sea From Elis even to the Acheloïan horn, I with clear winds came hither and gentle gods, Far off my father's house, and left uncheered Iasius, and uncheered the Arcadian hills And all their green-haired waters, and all woods Disconsolate, to hear no horn of mine Blown, and behold no flash of swift white feet.

MELEAGER.

For thy name's sake and awe toward thy chaste head, O holiest Atalanta, no man dares Praise thee, though fairer than whom all men praise, And godlike for thy grace of hallowed hair And holy habit of thine eyes, and feet That make the blown foam neither swift nor white Though the wind winnow and whirl it; yet we praise Gods, found because of thee adorable And for thy sake praiseworthiest from all men: Thee therefore we praise also, thee as these, Pure, and a light lit at the hands of gods.

TOXEUS.

How long will ye whet spears with eloquence, Fight, and kill beasts dry-handed with sweet words? Cease, or talk still and slay thy boars at home.

PLEXIPPUS.

Why, if she ride among us for a man, Sit thou for her and spin; a man grown girl Is worth a woman weaponed; sit thou here.

MELEAGER.

Peace, and be wise; no gods love idle speech.

PLEXIPPUS.

Nor any man a man's mouth woman-tongued.

MELEAGER.

For my lips bite not sharper than mine hands.

PLEXIPPUS.

Nay, both bite soft, but no whit softly mine.

MELEAGER.

Keep thine hands clean; they have time enough to stain.

PLEXIPPUS.

For thine shall rest and wax not red to-day.

MELEAGER.

Have all thy will of words; talk out thine heart.

ALTHAEA.

Refrain your lips, O brethren, and my son, Lest words turn snakes and bite you uttering them.

TOXEUS.

Except she give her blood before the gods, What profit shall a maid be among men?

PLEXIPPUS.

Let her come crowned and stretch her throat for a knife, Bleat out her spirit and die, and so shall men Through her too prosper and through prosperous gods; But nowise through her living; shall she live A flower-bud of the flower-bed, or sweet fruit For kisses and the honey-making mouth, And play the shield for strong men and the spear? Then shall the heifer and her mate lock horns, And the bride overbear the groom, and men Gods, for no less division sunders these; Since all things made are seasonable in time, But if one alter unseasonable are all. But thou, O Zeus, hear me that I may slay This beast before thee and no man halve with me Nor woman, lest these mock thee, though a god, Who hast made men strong, and thou being wise be held Foolish; for wise is that thing which endures.

ATALANTA.

Men, and the chosen of all this people, and thou, King, I beseech you a little bear with me. For if my life be shameful that I live, Let the gods witness and their wrath; but these Cast no such word against me. Thou, O mine, O holy, O happy goddess, if I sin Changing the words of women and the works For spears and strange men's faces, hast not thou One shaft of all thy sudden seven that pierced Seven through the bosom or shining throat or side, All couched about one mother's loosening knees, All holy born, engrafted of Tantalus? But if toward any of you I am overbold That take thus much upon me, let him think How I, for all my forest holiness, Fame, and this armed and iron maidenhood, Pay thus much also; I shall have no man's love For ever, and no face of children born Or feeding lips upon me or fastening eyes For ever, nor being dead shall kings my sons Mourn me and bury, and tears on daughters' cheeks Burn, but a cold and sacred life, but strange, But far from dances and the back-blowing torch, Far off from flowers or any bed of man, Shall my life be for ever: me the snows That face the first o' the morning, and cold hills Full of the land-wind and sea-travelling storms And many a wandering wing of noisy nights That know the thunder and hear the thickening wolves-- Me the utmost pine and footless frost of woods That talk with many winds and gods, the hours Re-risen, and white divisions of the dawn, Springs thousand-tongued with the intermitting reed And streams that murmur of the mother snow-- Me these allure, and know me; but no man Knows, and my goddess only. Lo now, see If one of all you these things vex at all. Would God that any of you had all the praise And I no manner of memory when I die, So might I show before her perfect eyes Pure, whom I follow, a maiden to my death. But for the rest let all have all they will; For is it a grief to you that I have part, Being woman merely, in your male might and deeds Done by main strength? yet in my body is throned As great a heart, and in my spirit, O men, I have not less of godlike. Evil it were That one a coward should mix with you, one hand Fearful, one eye abase itself; and these Well might ye hate and well revile, not me. For not the difference of the several flesh Being vile or noble or beautiful or base Makes praiseworthy, but purer spirit and heart Higher than these meaner mouths and limbs, that feed, Rise, rest, and are and are not; and for me, What should I say? but by the gods of the world And this my maiden body, by all oaths That bind the tongue of men and the evil will, I am not mighty-minded, nor desire Crowns, nor the spoil of slain things nor the fame; Feed ye on these, eat and wax fat, cry out, Laugh, having eaten, and leap without a lyre, Sing, mix the wind with clamour, smite and shake Sonorous timbrels and tumultuous hair, And fill the dance up with tempestuous feet, For I will none; but having prayed my prayers And made thank-offering for prosperities, I shall go hence and no man see me more. What thing is this for you to shout me down, What, for a man to grudge me this my life As it were envious of all yours, and I A thief of reputations? nay, for now, If there be any highest in heaven, a god Above all thrones and thunders of the gods Throned, and the wheel of the world roll under him, Judge he between me and all of you, and see It I transgress at all: but ye, refrain Transgressing hands and reinless mouths, and keep Silence, lest by much foam of violent words And proper poison of your lips ye die.

OENEUS.

O flower of Tegea, maiden, fleetest foot And holiest head of women, have good cheer Of thy good words: but ye, depart with her In peace and reverence, each with blameless eye Following his fate; exalt your hands and hearts, Strike, cease not, arrow on arrow and wound on wound, And go with gods and with the gods return.

CHORUS.

Who hath given man speech? or who hath set therein A thorn for peril and a snare for sin? For in the word his life is and his breath, And in the word his death, That madness and the infatuate heart may breed From the word's womb the deed And life bring one thing forth ere all pass by, Even one thing which is ours yet cannot die-- Death. Hast thou seen him ever anywhere, Time's twin-born brother, imperishable as he Is perishable and plaintive, clothed with care And mutable as sand, But death is strong and full of blood and fair And perdurable and like a lord of land? Nay, time thou seest not, death thou wilt not see Till life's right hand be loosened from thine hand And thy life-days from thee. For the gods very subtly fashion Madness with sadness upon earth: Not knowing in any wise compassion, Nor holding pity of any worth; And many things they have given and taken, And wrought and ruined many things; The firm land have they loosed and shaken, And sealed the sea with all her springs; They have wearied time with heavy burdens And vexed the lips of life with breath: Set men to labour and given them guerdons, Death, and great darkness after death: Put moans into the bridal measure And on the bridal wools a stain, And circled pain about with pleasure, And girdled pleasure about with pain; And strewed one marriage-bed with tears and fire For extreme loathing and supreme desire.

What shall be done with all these tears of ours? Shall they make watersprings in the fair heaven To bathe the brows of morning? or like flowers Be shed and shine before the starriest hours, Or made the raiment of the weeping Seven? Or rather, O our masters, shall they be Food for the famine of the grievous sea, A great well-head of lamentation Satiating the sad gods? or fall and flow Among the years and seasons to and fro, And wash their feet with tribulation And fill them full with grieving ere they go? Alas, our lords, and yet alas again, Seeing all your iron heaven is gilt as gold But all we smite thereat in vain, Smite the gates barred with groanings manifold, But all the floors are paven with our pain. Yea, and with weariness of lips and eyes, With breaking of the bosom, and with sighs, We labour, and are clad and fed with grief And filled with days we would not fain behold And nights we would not hear of, we wax old, All we wax old and wither like a leaf. We are outcast, strayed between bright sun and moon; Our light and darkness are as leaves of flowers, Black flowers and white, that perish; and the noon-- As midnight, and the night as daylight hours. A little fruit a little while is ours, And the worm finds it soon.

But up in heaven the high gods one by one Lay hands upon the draught that quickeneth, Fulfilled with all tears shed and all things done, And stir with soft imperishable breath The bubbling bitterness of life and death, And hold it to our lips and laugh; but they Preserve their lips from tasting night or day, Lest they too change and sleep, the fates that spun, The lips that made us and the hands that slay; Lest all these change, and heaven bow down to none, Change and be subject to the secular sway And terrene revolution of the sun. Therefore they thrust it from them, putting time away.

I would the wine of time, made sharp and sweet With multitudinous days and nights and tears And many mixing savours of strange years, Were no more trodden of them under feet, Cast out and spilt about their holy places: That life were given them as a fruit to eat And death to drink as water; that the light Might ebb, drawn backward from their eyes, and night Hide for one hour the imperishable faces. That they might rise up sad in heaven, and know Sorrow and sleep, one paler than young snow, One cold as blight of dew and ruinous rain, Rise up and rest and suffer a little, and be Awhile as all things born with us and we, And grieve as men, and like slain men be slain.

For now we know not of them; but one saith The gods are gracious, praising God; and one, When hast thou seen? or hast thou felt his breath Touch, nor consume thine eyelids as the sun, Nor fill thee to the lips with fiery death? None hath beheld him, none Seen above other gods and shapes of things, Swift without feet and flying without wings, Intolerable, not clad with death or life, Insatiable, not known of night or day, The lord of love and loathing and of strife Who gives a star and takes a sun away; Who shapes the soul, and makes her a barren wife To the earthly body and grievous growth of clay; Who turns the large limbs to a little flame And binds the great sea with a little sand; Who makes desire, and slays desire with shame; Who shakes the heaven as ashes in his hand; Who, seeing the light and shadow for the same, Bids day waste night as fire devours a brand, Smites without sword, and scourges without rod; The supreme evil, God.

Yea, with thine hate, O God, thou hast covered us, One saith, and hidden our eyes away from sight, And made us transitory and hazardous, Light things and slight; Yet have men praised thee, saying, He hath made man thus, And he doeth right. Thou hast kissed us, and hast smitten; thou hast laid Upon us with thy left hand life, and said, Live: and again thou hast said, Yield up your breath, And with thy right hand laid upon us death. Thou hast sent us sleep, and stricken sleep with dreams, Saying, Joy is not, but love of joy shall be, Thou hast made sweet springs for all the pleasant streams, In the end thou hast made them bitter with the sea. Thou hast fed one rose with dust of many men; Thou hast marred one face with fire of many tears; Thou hast taken love, and given us sorrow again; With pain thou hast filled us full to the eyes and ears. Therefore because thou art strong, our father, and we Feeble; and thou art against us, and thine hand Constrains us in the shallows of the sea And breaks us at the limits of the land; Because thou hast bent thy lightnings as a bow, And loosed the hours like arrows; and let fall Sins and wild words and many a winged woe And wars among us, and one end of all; Because thou hast made the thunder, and thy feet Are as a rushing water when the skies Break, but thy face as an exceeding heat And flames of fire the eyelids of thine eyes; Because thou art over all who are over us; Because thy name is life and our name death; Because thou art cruel and men are piteous, And our hands labour and thine hand scattereth; Lo, with hearts rent and knees made tremulous, Lo, with ephemeral lips and casual breath, At least we witness of thee ere we die That these things are not otherwise, but thus; That each man in his heart sigheth, and saith, That all men even as I, All we are against thee, against thee, O God most high, But ye, keep ye on earth Your lips from over-speech, Loud words and longing are so little worth; And the end is hard to reach. For silence after grievous things is good, And reverence, and the fear that makes men whole, And shame, and righteous governance of blood, And lordship of the soul. But from sharp words and wits men pluck no fruit, And gathering thorns they shake the tree at root; For words divide and rend; But silence is most noble till the end.

ALTHAEA.

I heard within the house a cry of news And came forth eastward hither, where the dawn, Cheers first these warder gods that face the sun And next our eyes unrisen; for unaware Came clashes of swift hoofs and trampling feet And through the windy pillared corridor Light sharper than the frequent flames of day That daily fill it from the fiery dawn; Gleams, and a thunder of people that cried out, And dust and hurrying horsemen; lo their chief, That rode with Oeneus rein by rein, returned. What cheer, O herald of my lord the king?

HERALD.

Lady, good cheer and great; the boar is slain. CHORUS.

Praised be all gods that look toward Calydon.

ALTHAEA.

Good news and brief; but by whose happier hand?

HERALD.

A maiden's and a prophet's and thy son's.

ALTHAEA.

Well fare the spear that severed him and life.

HERALD.

Thine own, and not an alien, hast thou blest

ALTHAEA.

Twice be thou too for my sake blest and his.

HERALD.

At the king's word I rode afoam for thine.

ALTHAEA.

Thou sayest he tarrieth till they bring the spoil?

HERALD.

Hard by the quarry, where they breathe, O queen.

ALTHAEA.

Speak thou their chance; but some bring flowers and crown These gods and all the lintel, and shed wine, Fetch sacrifice and slay, for heaven is good.

HERALD.