Chapter 2

Mine ancestress, who far on Egypt’s shore A young cow’s semblance wore,— A maiden once, by Hera’s malice changed! And then on him withal, Who, as amid the flowers the grazing creature ranged, Was in her by a breath of Zeus conceived; And, as the hour of birth drew nigh, By fate fulfilled, unto the light he came; And Epaphus for name, Born from the touch of Zeus, the child received. On him, on him I cry, And him for patron hold— While in this grassy vale I stand, Where Io roamed of old! And here, recounting all her toil and pain, Signs will I show to those who rule the land That I am child of hers; and all shall understand, Hearing the doubtful tale of the dim past made plain. And, ere the end shall be, Each man the truth of what I tell shall see. And if there dwell hard by One skilled to read from bird-notes augury, That man, when through his ears shall thrill our tearful wail, Shall deem he hears the voice, the plaintive tale Of her, the piteous spouse of Tereus, lord of guile— Whom the hawk harries yet, the mourning nightingale. She, from her happy home and fair streams scared away, Wails wild and sad for haunts beloved erewhile. Yea, and for Itylus—ah, well-a-day! Slain by her own, his mother’s hand, Maddened by lustful wrong, the deed by Tereus planned. Like her I wail and wail, in soft Ionian tones, And as she wastes, even so Wastes my soft cheek, once ripe with Nilus’ suns And all my heart dissolves in utter woe Sad flowers of grief I cull,

Fleeing from kinsmen’s love unmerciful— Yea, from the clutching hands, the wanton crowd, I sped across the waves, from Egypt’s land of cloud[1]

Gods of the ancient cradle of my race, Hear me, just gods! With righteous grace On me, on me look down! Grant not to youth its heart’s unchaste desire, But, swiftly spurning lust’s unholy fire, Bless only love and willing wedlock’s crown The war-worn fliers from the battle’s wrack Find refuge at the hallowed altar-side, The sanctuary divine,— Ye gods! such refuge unto me provide— Such sanctuary be mine! Though the deep will of Zeus be hard to track, Yet doth it flame and glance, A beacon in the dark, ’mid clouds of chance That wrap mankind Yea, though the counsel fall, undone it shall not be, Whate’er be shaped and fixed within Zeus’ ruling mind— Dark as a solemn grove, with sombre leafage shaded, His paths of purpose wind, A marvel to man’s eye

Smitten by him, from towering hopes degraded, Mortals lie low and still Tireless and effortless, works forth its will The arm divine! God from His holy seat, in calm of unarmed power, Brings forth the deed, at its appointed hour! Let Him look down on mortal wantonness! Lo! how the youthful stock of Belus’ line Craves for me, uncontrolled— With greed and madness bold— Urged on by passion’s sunless stress— And, cheated, learns too late the prey has ’scaped their hold! Ah, listen, listen to my grievous tale, My sorrow’s words, my shrill and tearful cries! Ah woe, ah woe! Loud with lament the accents use, And from my living lips my own sad dirges flow! O Apian land of hill and dale, Thou kennest yet, O land, this faltered foreign wail— Have mercy, hear my prayer! Lo, how again, again, I rend and tear My woven raiment, and from off my hair Cast the Sidonian veil!

Ah, but if fortune smile, if death be driven away, Vowed rites, with eager haste, we to the gods will pay! Alas, alas again! O wither drift the waves? and who shall loose the pain?

O Apian land of hill and dale, Thou kennest yet, O land, this faltered foreign wail! Have mercy, hear my prayer! Lo, how again, again, I rend and tear My woven raiment, and from off my hair Cast the Sidonian veil!

The wafting oar, the bark with woven sail, From which the sea foamed back, Sped me, unharmed of storms, along the breeze’s track— Be it unblamed of me! But ah, the end, the end of my emprise! May He, the Father, with all-seeing eyes, Grant me that end to see! Grant that henceforth unstained as heretofore I may escape the forced embrace Of those proud children of the race That sacred Io bore.

And thou, O maiden-goddess chaste and pure— Queen of the inner fane,— Look of thy grace on me, O Artemis, Thy willing suppliant—thine, thine it is, Who from the lustful onslaught fled secure, To grant that I too without stain The shelter of thy purity may gain!

Grant that henceforth unstained as heretofore I may escape the forced embrace Of those proud children of the race That sacred Io bore!

Yet if this may not be, We, the dark race sun-smitten, we Will speed with suppliant wands To Zeus who rules below, with hospitable hands Who welcomes all the dead from all the lands: Yea by our own hands strangled, we will go, Spurned by Olympian gods, unto the gods below!

Zeus, hear and save! The searching, poisonous hate, that Io vexed and drave, Was of a goddess: well I know The bitter ire, the wrathful woe Of Hera, queen of heaven— A storm, a storm her breath, whereby we yet are driven! Bethink thee, what dispraise Of Zeus himself mankind will raise, If now he turn his face averted from our cries! If now, dishonoured and alone, The ox-horned maiden’s race shall be undone, Children of Epaphus, his own begotten son— Zeus, listen from on high!—to thee our prayers arise.

Zeus, hear and save! The searching poisonous hate, that Io vexed and drave, Was of a goddess: well I know The bitter ire, the wrathful woe Of Hera, queen of heaven— A storm, a storm her breath, whereby we yet are driven!

DANAUS. Children, be wary—wary he with whom Ye come, your trusty sire and steersman old: And that same caution hold I here on land, And bid you hoard my words, inscribing them On memory’s tablets. Lo, I see afar Dust, voiceless herald of a host, arise; And hark, within their grinding sockets ring Axles of hurrying wheels! I see approach, Borne in curved cars, by speeding horses drawn, A speared and shielded band. The chiefs, perchance, Of this their land are hitherward intent To look on us, of whom they yet have heard By messengers alone. But come who may, And come he peaceful or in ravening wrath Spurred on his path, ’twere best, in any case, Damsels, to cling unto this altar-mound Made sacred to their gods of festival,— A shrine is stronger than a tower to save, A shield that none may cleave. Step swift thereto, And in your left hands hold with reverence The white-crowned wands of suppliance, the sign Beloved of Zeus, compassion’s lord, and speak To those that question you, words meek and low And piteous, as beseems your stranger state, Clearly avowing of this flight of yours The bloodless cause; and on your utterance See to it well that modesty attend; From downcast eyes, from brows of pure control, Let chastity look forth; nor, when ye speak, Be voluble nor eager—they that dwell Within this land are sternly swift to chide. And be your words submissive: heed this well; For weak ye are, outcasts on stranger lands, And froward talk beseems not strengthless hands.

CHORUS. O father, warily to us aware Thy words are spoken, and thy wisdom’s best My mind shall hoard, with Zeus our sire to aid.

DANAUS. Even so—with gracious aspect let him aid.

CHORUS. Fain were I now to seat me by thy side.

DANAUS. Now dally not, but put our thought in act.

CHORUS. Zeus, pity our distress, or e’er we die.

DANAUS. If so he will, your toils to joy will turn.

CHORUS. Lo, on this shrine, the semblance of a bird.[2]

DANAUS. Zeus’ bird of dawn it is; invoke the sign.

CHORUS. Thus I invoke the saving rays of morn.

DANAUS. Next, bright Apollo, exiled once from heaven.

CHORUS. The exiled god will pity our exile.

DANAUS. Yea, may he pity, giving grace and aid.

CHORUS. Whom next invoke I, of these other gods?

DANAUS. Lo, here a trident, symbol of a god.

CHORUS. Who[3] gave sea-safety; may he bless on land!

DANAUS. This next is Hermes, carved in Grecian wise.

CHORUS. Then let him herald help to freedom won.

DANAUS. Lastly, adore this altar consecrate To many lesser gods in one; then crouch On holy ground, a flock of doves that flee, Scared by no alien hawks, a kin not kind, Hateful, and fain of love more hateful still. Foul is the bird that rends another bird, And foul the men who hale unwilling maids, From sire unwilling, to the bridal bed. Never on earth, nor in the lower world, Shall lewdness such as theirs escape the ban: There too, if men say right, a God there is Who upon dead men turns their sin to doom, To final doom. Take heed, draw hitherward, That from this hap your safety ye may win.

Enter the KING OF ARGOS.

THE KING OF ARGOS. Speak—of what land are ye? No Grecian band Is this to whom I speak, with Eastern robes And wrappings richly dight: no Argive maid, No woman in all Greece such garb doth wear. This too gives marvel, how unto this land, Unheralded, unfriended, without guide, And without fear, ye came? yet wands I see, True sign of suppliance, by you laid down On shrines of these our gods of festival. No land but Greece can read such signs aright. Much else there is, conjecture well might guess, But let words teach the man who stands to hear.

CHORUS. True is the word thou spakest of my garb; But speak I unto thee as citizen, Or Hermes’ wandbearer, or chieftain king?

THE KING OF ARGOS. For that, take heart and answer without fear. I am Pelasgus, ruler of this land, Child of Palaichthon, whom the earth brought forth; And, rightly named from me, the race who reap This country’s harvests are Pelasgian called. And o’er the wide and westward-stretching land, Through which the lucent wave of Strymon flows I rule; Perrhaebia’s land my boundary is Northward, and Pindus’ further slopes, that watch Paeonia, and Dodona’s mountain ridge. West, east, the limit of the washing seas Restrains my rule—the interspace is mine. But this whereon we stand is Apian land, Styled so of old from the great healer’s name; For Apis, coming from Naupactus’ shore Beyond the strait, child of Apollo’s self And like him seer and healer, cleansed this land From man-devouring monsters, whom the earth, Stained with pollution of old bloodshedding, Brought forth in malice, beasts of ravening jaws, A grisly throng of serpents manifold. And healings of their hurt, by knife and charm, Apis devised, unblamed of Argive men, And in their prayers found honour, for reward. —Lo, thou hast heard the tokens that I give: Speak now thy race, and tell a forthright tale; In sooth, this people loves not many words.

CHORUS. Short is my word and clear. Of Argive race We come, from her, the ox-horned maiden who Erst bare the sacred child. My word shall give Whate’er can ’stablish this my soothfast tale.

THE KING OF ARGOS. O stranger maids, I may not trust this word, That ye have share in this our Argive race. No likeness of our country do ye bear, But semblance as of Libyan womankind. Even such a stock by Nilus’ banks might grow; Yea and the Cyprian stamp, in female forms, Shows to the life, what males impressed the same. And, furthermore, of roving Indian maids Whose camping-grounds by Aethiopia lie, And camels burdened even as mules, and bearing Riders, as horses bear, mine ears have heard; And tales of flesh-devouring mateless maids Called Amazons: to these, if bows ye bare, I most had deemed you like. Speak further yet, That of your Argive birth the truth I learn.

CHORUS. Here in this Argive land—so runs the tale— Io was priestess once of Hera’s fane.

THE KING OF ARGOS. Yea, truth it is, and far this word prevails: Is’t said that Zeus with mortal mingled love?

CHORUS. Ay, and that Hera that embrace surmised.

THE KING OF ARGOS. How issued then this strife of those on high?

CHORUS. By Hera’s will, a heifer she became.

THE KING OF ARGOS. Held Zeus aloof then from the horned beast?

CHORUS. ’Tis said, he loved, in semblance of a bull.

THE KING OF ARGOS. And his stern consort, did she aught thereon?

CHORUS. One myriad-eyed she set, the heifer’s guard.

THE KING OF ARGOS. How namest thou this herdsman many-eyed?

CHORUS. Argus, the child of Earth, whom Hermes slew.

THE KING OF ARGOS. Still did the goddess vex the beast ill-starred?

CHORUS. She wrought a gadfly with a goading sting.

THE KING OF ARGOS. Thus drave she Io hence, to roam afar?

CHORUS. Yea—this thy word coheres exact with mine.

THE KING OF ARGOS. Then to Canopus and to Memphis came she?

CHORUS. And by Zeus’ hand was touched, and bare a child.

THE KING OF ARGOS. Who vaunts him the Zeus-mated creature’s son?

CHORUS. Epaphus, named rightly from the saving touch.

THE KING OF ARGOS. And whom in turn did Epaphus beget?[4]

CHORUS. Libya, with name of a wide land endowed.

THE KING OF ARGOS. And who from her was born unto the race?

CHORUS. Belus: from him two sons, my father one.

THE KING OF ARGOS. Speak now to me his name, this greybeard wise.

CHORUS. Revere the gods thus crowned, who steer the State.

THE KING OF ARGOS. Awe thrills me, seeing these shrines with leafage crowned.

CHORUS. Yea, stern the wrath of Zeus, the suppliants’ lord. Child of Palaichthon, royal chief Of thy Pelasgians, hear! Bow down thine heart to my relief— A fugitive, a suppliant, swift with fear, A creature whom the wild wolves chase O’er toppling crags; in piteous case Aloud, afar she lows, Calling the herdsman’s trusty arm to save her from her foes!

THE KING OF ARGOS. Lo, with bowed heads beside our city shrines Ye sit ’neath shade of new-plucked olive-boughs. Our distant kin’s resentment Heaven forefend! Let not this hap, unhoped and unforeseen, Bring war on us: for strife we covet not.

CHORUS. Justice, the daughter of right-dealing Zeus, Justice, the queen of suppliants, look down, That this our plight no ill may loose Upon your town! This word, even from the young, let age and wisdom learn: If thou to suppliants show grace, Thou shalt not lack Heaven’s grace in turn, So long as virtue’s gifts on heavenly shrines have place.

THE KING OF ARGOS. Not at my private hearth ye sit and sue; And if the city bear a common stain, Be it the common toil to cleanse the same: Therefore no pledge, no promise will I give, Ere counsel with the commonwealth be held.

CHORUS. Nay, but the source of sway, the city’s self, art thou, A power unjudged! thine, only thine, To rule the right of hearth and shrine! Before thy throne and sceptre all men bow! Thou, in all causes lord, beware the curse divine!

THE KING OF ARGOS. May that curse fall upon mine enemies! I cannot aid you without risk of scathe, Nor scorn your prayers—unmerciful it were. Perplexed, distraught I stand, and fear alike The twofold chance, to do or not to do.

CHORUS. Have heed of him who looketh from on high, The guard of woeful mortals, whosoe’er Unto their fellows cry, And find no pity, find no justice there. Abiding in his wrath, the suppliants’ lord Doth smite, unmoved by cries, unbent by prayerful word.

THE KING OF ARGOS. But if Aegyptus’ children grasp you here, Claiming, their country’s right, to hold you theirs As next of kin, who dares to counter this? Plead ye your country’s laws, if plead ye may, That upon you they lay no lawful hand.

CHORUS. Let me not fall, O nevermore, A prey into the young men’s hand; Rather than wed whom I abhor, By pilot-stars I flee this land; O king, take justice to thy side, And with the righteous powers decide!

THE KING OF ARGOS. Hard is the cause—make me not judge thereof. Already I have vowed it, to do nought Save after counsel with my people ta’en, King though I be; that ne’er in after time, If ill fate chance, my people then may say— _In aid of strangers thou the state hast slain_.

CHORUS. Zeus, lord of kinship, rules at will The swaying balance, and surveys Evil and good; to men of ill Gives evil, and to good men praise. And thou—since true those scales do sway— Shall thou from justice shrink away?

THE KING OF ARGOS. A deep, a saving counsel here there needs— An eye that like a diver to the depth Of dark perplexity can pass and see, Undizzied, unconfused. First must we care That to the State and to ourselves this thing Shall bring no ruin; next, that wrangling hands Shall grasp you not as prey, nor we ourselves Betray you thus embracing sacred shrines, Nor make the avenging all-destroying god, Who not in hell itself sets dead men free, A grievous inmate, an abiding bane.— Spake I not right, of saving counsel’s need?

CHORUS. Yea, counsel take and stand to aid At Justice’ side and mine. Betray not me, the timorous maid Whom far beyond the brine A godless violence cast forth forlorn. O King, wilt thou behold— Lord of this land, wilt thou behold me torn From altars manifold? Bethink thee of the young men’s wrath and lust, Hold off their evil pride; Steel not thyself to see the suppliant thrust From hallowed statues’ side, Haled by the frontlet on my forehead bound, As steeds are led, and drawn By hands that drag from shrine and altar-mound My vesture’s fringed lawn. Know thou that whether for Aegyptus’ race Thou dost their wish fulfil, Or for the gods and for each holy place— Be thy choice good or ill, Blow is with blow requited, grace with grace Such is Zeus’ righteous will.

THE KING OF ARGOS. Yea, I have pondered: from the sea of doubt Here drives at length the bark of thought ashore; Landward with screw and windlass haled, and firm, Clamped to her props, she lies. The need is stern; With men or gods a mighty strife we strive Perforce, and either hap in grief concludes. For, if a house be sacked, new wealth for old Not hard it is to win—if Zeus the lord Of treasure favour—more than quits the loss, Enough to pile the store of wealth full high; Or if a tongue shoot forth untimely speech, Bitter and strong to goad a man to wrath, Soft words there be to soothe that wrath away: But what device shall make the war of kin Bloodless? that woe, the blood of many beasts, And victims manifold to many gods, Alone can cure. Right glad I were to shun This strife, and am more fain of ignorance Than of the wisdom of a woe endured. The gods send better than my soul foretells!

CHORUS. Of many cries for mercy, hear the end.

THE KING OF ARGOS. Say on, then, for it shall not ’scape mine ear.

CHORUS. Girdles we have, and bands that bind our robes.

THE KING OF ARGOS. Even so; such things beseem a woman’s wear.

CHORUS. Know, then, with these a fair device there is—

THE KING OF ARGOS. Speak, then: what utterance doth this foretell?

CHORUS. Unless to us thou givest pledge secure—

THE KING OF ARGOS. What can thy girdles’ craft achieve for thee?

CHORUS. Strange votive tablets shall these statues deck.

THE KING OF ARGOS. Mysterious thy resolve—avow it clear.

CHORUS. Swiftly to hang me on these sculptured gods!

THE KING OF ARGOS. Thy word is as a lash to urge my heart.

CHORUS. Thou seest truth, for I have cleared thine eye

THE KING OF ARGOS. Yea, and woes manifold, invincible, A crowd of ills, sweep on me torrent-like. My bark goes forth upon a sea of troubles Unfathomed, ill to traverse, harbourless. For if my deed shall match not your demand, Dire, beyond shot of speech, shall be the bane Your death’s pollution leaves unto this land. Yet if against your kin, Aegyptus’ race, Before our gates I front the doom of war, Will not the city’s loss be sore? Shall men For women’s sake incarnadine the ground? But yet the wrath of Zeus, the suppliants’ lord I needs must fear: most awful unto man The terror of his anger. Thou, old man, The father of these maidens, gather up Within your arms these wands of suppliance, And lay them at the altars manifold Of all our country’s gods, that all the town Know, by this sign, that ye come here to sue. Nor, in thy haste, do thou say aught of me. Swift is this folk to censure those who rule; But, if they see these signs of suppliance, It well may chance that each will pity you, And loathe the young men’s violent pursuit; And thus a fairer favour you may find: For, to the helpless, each man’s heart is kind.

DANAUS. To us, beyond gifts manifold it is To find a champion thus compassionate; Yet send with me attendants, of thy folk, Rightly to guide me, that I duly find Each altar of your city’s gods that stands Before the fane, each dedicated shrine; And that in safety through the city’s ways I may pass onwards: all unlike to yours The outward semblance that I wear—the race that Nilus rears is all dissimilar That of Inachus. Keep watch and ward Lest heedlessness bring death: full oft, I ween, Friend hath slain friend, not knowing whom he slew.

THE KING OF ARGOS. Go at his side, attendants,—he saith well. On to the city’s consecrated shrines! Nor be of many words to those ye meet, The while this suppliant voyager ye lead.

[_Exit DANAUS with attendants._]

CHORUS. Let him go forward, thy command obeying. But me how biddest, how assurest thou?

THE KING OF ARGOS. Leave there the new-plucked boughs, thy sorrow’s sign.

CHORUS. Thus beckoned forth, at thy behest I leave them.

THE KING OF ARGOS. Now to this level precinct turn thyself.

CHORUS. Unconsecrate it is, and cannot shield me.

THE KING OF ARGOS. We will not yield thee to those falcons’ greed.

CHORUS. What help? more fierce they are than serpents fell.

THE KING OF ARGOS. We spake thee fair—speak thou them fair in turn.

CHORUS. What marvel that we loathe them, scared in soul?

THE KING OF ARGOS. Awe towards a king should other fears transcend.

CHORUS. Thus speak, thus act, and reassure my mind.

THE KING OF ARGOS. Not long thy sire shall leave thee desolate. But I will call the country’s indwellers, And with soft words th’ assembly will persuade, And warn your sire what pleadings will avail. Therefore abide ye, and with prayer entreat The country’s gods to compass your desire; The while I go, this matter to provide, Persuasion and fair fortune at my side.

[_Exit the KING OF ARGOS._]