ACT I

_The Ghost of Tantalus:_ Who from th' accurséd regions of the dead, Hath haled me forth, where greedily I strive To snatch the food that ever doth escape My hungry lips? Who now to Tantalus Doth show those heavenly seats which once before I saw to my undoing? Can it be That some more fearful suffering than thirst In sight of water, worse than gaping want, 5 Hath been devised? Must I the slippery stone Of Sisyphus upon my shoulders bear? Must I be stretched upon the whirling wheel, Or suffer Tityus' pangs, who, lying prone Within a huge recess, the grewsome birds 10 Doth with his quivering, torn-out vitals feed? By night renewing what the day hath lost, He lies, an undiminished feast for all. For what new evil am I now reserved? O thou grim judge of shades, who'er thou art Who to the dead doth mete new punishments! If thou canst still some suffering devise 15 Whereat grim Cerberus himself would quake, And gloomy Acheron be seized with fear, At whose dread sight e'en I would tremble sore: Seek such a punishment; for from my seed Is sprung a race which shall their house outvie 20 In sin, shall make me innocent appear, And dare to do what I have never dared. Whatever space within the impious realms Remains unoccupied, my house shall fill. While lives the race of Pelops on the earth, No rest shall Minos know.

_The Fury:_ Thou curséd shade, Be gone, and to the verge of madness drive Thine impious house. Be drawn the deadly sword 25 To every crime upraised, by every hand; Of angry passions let there be no end, No shame of strife; let blinded fury's sting Prick on their souls; seared by the breath of rage May parents' hearts grow hard, and endless crime To childrens' children drag its impious trail. No time be given to hate their former crimes; But let the new in quick succession rise, 30 Not one alone in each; and may their crimes, E'en while they suffer punishment, increase. Let the throne fall from the haughty brothers' grasp, And call them back from exiled wanderings. Let the tottering fortune of this bloody house, Amid its changing kings in ruins fall. Bring him of high estate to wretchedness, 35 The wretched raise; and let the kingdom toss Upon the seething tide of circumstance. By crime driven out, when God shall bring them home, May they return but to still other crimes, And by all men as by themselves be loathed. Let nothing be which wrath deems unallowed: Let brother brother fear, and parent child; 40 Let son fear father; let the children die An evil death--by doubly evil birth Be born. Let wives against their husbands lift Their murderous hands. Let wars pass over seas, And every land be drenched with streams of blood. Triumphant o'er the mighty kings of earth, Let Lust exult; and in thy sinful house, 45 Let vile, incestuous deeds seem trivial. Let justice, faith, fraternal amity Be trampled underfoot; and of our sins Let not the heavens themselves escape the taint. Why gleam the constellations in the sky, And flash their wonted glories to the world? 50 Be pitchy black the night, and let the day Fall fainting from the heavens and be no more. Embroil thy household gods, rouse murderous hate, And all the palace fill with Tantalus. Adorn the lofty columns; let the doors, With verdant laural decked, proclaim their joy; Let torches gleam in celebration meet 55 Of thy return--then let the Thracian crime Be done again, but triply hideous. Why stays the uncle's hand in idleness? Not yet Thyestes weeps his murdered sons. When will he act? The kettles o'er the fires Should even now be boiling, severed limbs 60 Be broken up, the father's hearth be stained With children's blood, the festal tables spread. But at no untried carnival of crime Wilt thou sit down as guest. This day be free, And sate thy hunger at that festal board; Go eat thy fill, and drink the blood and wine 65 Commingled in thy sight. A banquet this, Which thou thyself wouldst look in horror on.-- But stay thee. Whither dost thou rush away?

_Tantalus:_ Back to my pools and streams and ebbing waves, Back to that tree whose ever-mocking fruit Eludes my lips. Oh, let me seek again The gloomy couch of my old prison-house; 70 And if too little wretched I appear, Bid me my river change. Within thy stream, O Phlegethon, hemmed round with waves of fire, Let me be left to suffer. Ye, whoe'er By fate's decrees are doomed to punishment, Whoe'er thou art who 'neath the hollowed cave 75 Dost lie, in constant fear lest even now The cavern's mass shall fall upon thy head; Whoever fears the gaping, greedy jaws Of lions, and in helpless horror looks Upon the advancing furies' cruel lines; Whoe'er, half burned, their threat'ning torches shuns: Oh, listen to the voice of Tantalus 80 Fast speeding to your realm; believe the words Of one who knows, and love your punishment. But now--Oh, when shall it be mine to flee This upper world?

_The Fury:_ First must thou plunge thy house In dire disorders, stir up deadly feuds, Awake the kings to evil lust for blood, And rouse to wild amaze their maddened hearts.

_Tantalus:_ 'Tis fit that I should suffer, not bestow, 85 The punishment. But thou wouldst have me go, Like deadly vapor from the riven earth, Or like the plague amongst the people spread, And lead my grandsons into crime most foul. O mighty sire of gods, my sire as well, Although 'tis shame to thee to own me son, 90 Though cruel tortures seize my tattling tongue, I will not hold my peace: [_He cries aloud as to his family._] I warn ye all, Stain not your kindred hands with sacred blood, And with no madman's gifts pollute the shrines. Lo, here I stand, and shall avert the deed. 95 [_To the_ Fury.] Why dost thou fright me with thy brandished scourge, And shake thy writhing serpents in my face? Why in mine inmost marrow dost thou rouse These gnawing hunger pangs? My very heart Is parched with burning thirst, and leaping flames Dart scorching through my vitals--Oh, desist; I yield me to thy will. 100

_The Fury:_ Then fix this thirst, This maddening thirst in all thy kindred here; So, e'en as thou, may they be driven on To quench their thirst each in the others' blood. But lo, thy house perceives thy near approach, And shrinks in horror from thy loathsome touch. But now enough. Do thou go back again 105 To thine infernal caves and 'customed stream; For here the sad earth groans beneath thy feet. Dost thou not see how, driven far within, The waters flee their springs? how river banks Are empty, and the fiery wind drives on The scattered clouds? The trees grow sickly pale, Their branches hang denuded of their fruits; 110 And where but late the Isthmus echoed back The loud resounding waters near at hand, Their neighboring waves by but a narrow span Dividing, now have all the waves withdrawn Far seaward, and their voice is faintly heard Upon the shore. Now Lerna backward shrinks, 115 The streams of Inachus have hidden away, The sacred Alpheus sends his waters forth No longer, and Cithaeron lifts no more Its hoary head, for all its snows are gone; While they who dwell in noble Argos fear Their ancient thirst again. E'en Titan's self Stands doubtful whether he shall bid his steeds 120 Run their accustomed course and bring the day, Foredoomed by thee to perish on the way.

[_They vanish._]

* * * * *

_Chorus:_ If any god for Argos cares, And Pisa's realm for chariots famed; If any loves the Isthmian state Of Corinth, with its double ports, And two opposing seas; 125 If any joys in the far-seen snows Of Mount Taygetus, which lie Heaped on his loftiest peaks what time The wintry blasts of Boreas blow, But which the summer melts again When breathe the soft Etesian winds, Sail filling; if the Alpheus bright With its cool, clear stream moves any god, 130 Far famed for its Olympic course-- Let him his peaceful godhead turn To our affairs; let him avert This dread inheritance of crime; Forbid that in his grandsire's steps The grandson follow, worse than he; And let not worse monstrosities Please generations yet to be. 135 Oh, may at last the impious race Of thirsty Tantalus give o'er In utter weariness its lust For savage deeds. Enough of sin! No longer does the right prevail, And wrong is general. Behold, As Myrtilus his lord betrayed, He, too, was treacherously slain; For by that selfsame broken faith 140 Which he had shown, himself o'ercome,[47] He fell into the sea and changed Its name for his. Amidst the ships That sail the Ionian sea, no tale Is better known. See now, while runs the little son To meet his father's kiss, he falls 145 By that accurséd sword transfixed, Untimely victim at thy hearth, And carved, O Tantalus, by thee, That so thou mightest grace the board Of friendly gods. That impious feast Eternal hunger, endless thirst Rewarded; penalty more fit 150 For such a crime could not be found. See where, with gaping throat, forespent, Stands Tantalus; above his head Hang many luscious fruits; but, swift As Phineus' birds, they flee his grasp; On every side the tree droops low, With heavy-laden boughs, o'erweighed 155 By its own fruit, and mockingly Sways to his straining lips. Yet he, Though with impatient longing filled, As often mocked, so often fails To grasp the prize; he turns away 160 His longing gaze, strains close his lips, And grimly bars his hunger fast Behind his teeth. But still again The whole grove lets its riches down, And flaunts them in his face, soft fruits On drooping boughs, and whets once more His hunger, bidding stretch again 165 His hands--but all in vain. For now, When it has lured him on to hope, And mocked its fill, the boughs recede, And the whole ripe harvest of the wood Is snatched far out of reach. Then comes a raging thirst more fierce Than hunger, which inflames his blood, 170 And with its parching fires burns up Its moisture. There the poor wretch stands, Striving to quaff the nearby waves; But the fleeing waters whirl away, And leave but the empty bed to him Who seeks to follow. Quick he quaffs At that swift stream, but to drink--the dust. 175

FOOTNOTES:

[47] Reading, _vectus_.