ACT III
[_Enter_ Thyestes _returning from banishment, accompanied by his three sons_.]
_Thyestes:_ At last do I behold the welcome roofs Of this my fatherland, the teeming wealth Of Argos, and, the greatest and the best Of sights to weary exiles, here I see 405 My native soil and my ancestral gods (If gods indeed there be). And there, behold, The sacred towers by hands of Cyclops reared, In beauty far excelling human art; The race-course thronged with youth, where oftentimes Have I within my father's chariot Sped on to victory and fair renown. 410 Now will all Argos come to welcome me; The thronging folk will come--and Atreus too! Oh, better far reseek thy wooded haunts, Thy glades remote, and, mingled with the brutes, Live e'en as they. Why should this splendid realm With its fair-seeming glitter blind my eyes? 415 When thou dost look upon the goodly gift, Scan well the giver too. Of late I lived With bold and joyous spirit, though my lot All men considered hard to bear. But now My heart is filled with fears, my courage fails; And, bent on flight, my feet unwilling move. 420
_Tantalus_ [_one of_ Thyestes' _sons_]: Why, O my father, dost thou falter so With steps uncertain, turn away thy face, And hold thyself as on a doubtful course?
_Thyestes_ [_in soliloquy_]: Why hesitate, my soul, or why so long Deliberate upon a point so clear? To such uncertain things dost thou intrust Thyself as throne and brother? And fearest thou Those ills already conquered and found mild? 425 Dost flee those cares which thou hast well bestowed? Oh, now my former wretchedness is joy. Turn back, while still thou mayst, and save thyself.
_Tantalus:_ What cause, O father, forces thee to leave Thy native land at last regained? Why now, 430 When richest gifts are falling in thy lap, Dost turn away? Thy brother's wrath is o'er; And he has turned himself once more to thee, Has given thee back thy share of sovereignty, Restored our shattered house to harmony, And made thee master of thyself again.
_Thyestes:_ Thou askest why I fear--I cannot tell. No cause for fear I see, but still I fear. 435 I long to go, and yet my trembling limbs Go on with faltering steps, and I am borne Where I most stoutly struggle not to go. So, when a ship by oar and sail is driven, The tide, resisting both, bears it away.
_Tantalus:_ But thou must overcome whate'er it be 440 That doth oppose and hold thy soul in check; And see how great rewards await thee here: Thou canst be king.
_Thyestes:_ Since I have power to die.
_Tantalus:_ But royal power is--
_Thyestes:_ Naught, if only thou No power dost covet.
_Tantalus:_ Leave it to thy sons.
_Thyestes:_ No realm on earth can stand divided power.
_Tantalus:_ Should he, who can be happy, still be sad? 445
_Thyestes:_ Believe me, son, 'tis by their lying names That things seem great, while others harsh appear Which are not truly so. When high in power I stood, I never ceased to be in fear; Yea, even did I fear the very sword Upon my thigh. Oh, what a boon it is To be at feud with none, to eat one's bread 450 Without a trace of care, upon the ground! Crime enters not the poor man's humble cot; And all in safety may one take his food From slender boards; for 'tis in cups of gold That poison lurks--I speak what I do know. Ill fortune is to be preferred to good. For since my palace does not threatening stand 455 In pride upon some lofty mountain top, The people fear me not; my towering roofs Gleam not with ivory, nor do I need A watchful guard to keep me while I sleep. I do not fish with fleets, nor drive the sea With massive dykes back from its natural shore; 460 I do not gorge me at the world's expense; For me no fields remote are harvested Beyond the Getae and the Parthians; No incense burns for me, nor are my shrines Adorned in impious neglect of Jove; No forests wave upon my battlements, No vast pools steam for my delight; my days 465 Are not to slumber given, nor do I spend The livelong night in drunken revelry. No one feels fear of me, and so my home, Though all unguarded, is from danger free; For poverty alone may be at peace. And this I hold: the mightiest king is he, Who from the lust of sovereignty is free. 470
_Tantalus:_ But if some god a kingdom should bestow, It is not meet for mortal to refuse: Behold, thy brother bids thee to the throne.
_Thyestes:_ He bids? 'Tis but a cloak for treachery.
_Tantalus:_ But brotherly regard ofttimes returns Unto the heart from which it has been driven; And righteous love regains its former strength.
_Thyestes:_ And dost thou speak of brother's love to me? 475 Sooner shall ocean bathe the heavenly Bears, The raging waves of Sicily be still; And sooner shall the Ionian waters yield Ripe fields of grain; black night illume the earth; And fire shall mate with water, life with death, 480 And winds shall make a treaty with the sea: Than shall Thyestes know a brother's love.
_Tantalus:_ What treachery dost thou fear?
_Thyestes:_ All treachery. What proper limit shall I give my fear? My brother's power is boundless as his hate.
_Tantalus:_ How can he harm thee?
_Thyestes:_ For myself alone 485 I have no fears; but 'tis for you, my sons, That Atreus must be held in fear by me.
_Tantalus:_ But canst thou be o'ercome, if on thy guard?
_Thyestes:_ Too late one guards when in the midst of ills. But let us on. In this one thing I show My fatherhood: I do not lead to ill, But follow you.
_Tantalus:_ If well we heed our ways, God will protect us. Come with courage on. 490
_Atreus_ [_coming upon the scene, sees_ Thyestes _and his three sons, and gloats over the fact that his brother is at last in his power. He speaks aside_]: Now is the prey fast caught within my toils. I see the father and his hated brood, And here my vengeful hate is safe bestowed; For now at last he's come into my hands; He's come, Thyestes and his children--all! 495 When I see him I scarce can curb my grief, And keep my soul from breaking madly forth. So when the Umbrian hound pursues the prey, Keen scented, on the long leash held, he goes With lowered muzzle questing on the trail. While distant still the game and faint the scent, Obedient to the leash, with silent tongue 500 He goes along; but when the prey is near, With straining neck he struggles to be free, Bays loud against the cautious hunter's check, And bursts from all restraint. When, near at hand, Hot wrath perceives the blood for which it thirsts, It cannot be restrained. Yet must it be. See how his unkempt, matted hair conceals 505 His woeful countenance; how foul his beard. [_He now addresses_ Thyestes.] My promised faith, my brother, will I keep; 'Tis a delight to see thee once again. Come to my arms in mutual embrace; For all the anger which I felt for thee Has melted clean away. From this time forth Let ties of blood be cherished, love and faith; 510 And let that hatred which has cursed us both Forever vanish from our kindred souls.
_Thyestes:_ I should attempt to palliate my sins, Hadst thou not shown me such fraternal love; But now I own, my brother, now I own That I have sinned against thee past belief. Thy faithful piety has made my case Seem blacker still. A double sinner he 515 Who sins against a brother such as thou. Now let my tears my penitence approve. Thou, first of all mankind, beholdest me A suppliant; these hands, which never yet Have touched the feet of man, are laid on thine. Let all thy wrathful feelings be forgot, Be utterly erased from off thy soul; 520 And take, O brother, as my pledge of faith These guiltless sons of mine.
_Atreus:_ Lay not thy hands Upon my knees. Come, rather, to my arms. And you, dear youths, the comforters of age, Come cling about my neck. Those rags of woe, My brother, lay aside, and spare mine eyes; And clothe thyself more fittingly in these, 525 The equal of my own. And, last of all, Accept thine equal share of this our realm. 'Twill bring a greater meed of praise to me, To restore thee safely to thy father's throne. For chance may put the scepter in our hands; But only virtue seeks to give it up.
_Thyestes:_ May heaven, my brother, worthily repay 530 These deeds of thine. But this my wretched head Will not consent to wear a diadem, Nor my ill-omened hand to hold the staff Of power. Nay, rather, let me hide myself Among the throng.
_Atreus:_ There's room upon the throne.
_Thyestes:_ But I shall know that all of thine is mine. 535
_Atreus:_ But who would throw away good fortune's gifts?
_Thyestes:_ Whoe'er has found how easily they fail.
_Atreus:_ And wouldst thou thwart thy brother's great renown?
_Thyestes:_ Thy glory is attained; mine bides its time. My mind is resolute to shun the crown. 540
_Atreus:_ Then I refuse my share of power as well.
_Thyestes:_ Nay then, I yield. The name of king I'll wear, But laws and arms--and I, are thine to sway.
_Atreus_ [_placing the crown on his brother's head_]: I'll place this crown upon thy reverend head, And pay the destined victims to the gods. 545
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_Chorus:_ The sight is past belief. Behold, This Atreus, fierce and bold of soul, By every cruel passion swayed, When first he saw his brother's face Was held in dumb amaze. No force is greater than the power Of Nature's ties of love. 'Tis true That wars with foreign foes endure; 550 But they whom true love once has bound Will ever feel its ties. When wrath, by some great cause aroused, Hath burst the bonds of amity, And raised the dreadful cry of war; When gleaming squadrons thunder down With champing steeds; when flashing swords, 555 By carnage-maddened Mars upreared, Gleam with a deadly rain of blows: E'en then for sacred piety Those warring hands will sheathe the sword And join in the clasp of peace. What god has given this sudden lull 560 In the midst of loud alarms? But now Throughout Mycenae's borders rang The noisy prelude of a strife 'Twixt brothers' arms. Here mothers pale Embraced their sons, and the trembling wife Looked on her arméd lord in fear, While the sword to his hand reluctant came, 565 Foul with the rust of peace. One strove to renew the tottering walls, And one to strengthen the shattered towers, And close the gates with iron bars; While on the battlements the guard 570 His anxious nightly vigils kept. The daily fear of war is worse Than war itself. But fallen now are the sword's dire threats, The deep-voiced trumpet-blare is still, And the shrill, harsh notes of the clarion 575 Are heard no more. While peace profound Broods once again o'er the happy state. So when, beneath the storm blast's lash, The heaving waves break on the shore Of Bruttium, and Scylla roars Responsive from her cavern's depths; Then, even within their sheltered port, 580 The sailors fear the foaming sea Which greedy Charybdis vomits up; And Cyclops dreads his father's rage Where he sits on burning Aetna's crag, Lest the deathless flames on his roaring forge 585 Be quenched by the overwhelming floods; When poor Laërtes feels the shock Of reeling Ithaca, and thinks That his island realm will be swallowed up: Then, if the fierce winds die away, The waves sink back in their quiet depths; And the sea, which of late the vessels feared, 590 Now far and wide with swelling sails Is overspread, while tiny skiffs Skim safely o'er its harmless breast; And one may count the very fish Deep down within the peaceful caves, Where but now, beneath the raging blast, The battered islands feared the sea. 595 No lot endureth long. For grief And pleasure, each in turn, depart; But pleasure has a briefer reign. From lowest to the highest state A fleeting hour may bring us. He, Who wears a crown upon his brow, To whom the trembling nations kneel, 600 Before whose nod the barbarous Medes Lay down their arms, the Indians too, Who dwell beneath the nearer sun, And Dacians, who the Parthian horse Are ever threat'ning: he, the king, With anxious mind the scepter bears, Foresees and fears the fickle chance 605 And shifting time which soon or late Shall all his power overthrow. Ye, whom the ruler of the land And sea has given o'er subject men The fearful power of life and death, Abate your overweening pride. For whatsoever fear of you 610 Your weaker subjects feel today, Tomorrow shall a stronger lord Inspire in you. For every power Is subject to a greater power. Him, whom the dawning day beholds In proud estate, the setting sun Sees lying in the dust. Let no one then trust overmuch 615 To favoring fate; and when she frowns, Let no one utterly despair Of better fortune yet to come. For Clotho mingles good and ill; She whirls the wheel of fate around, Nor suffers it to stand. To no one are the gods so good That he may safely call his own 620 Tomorrow's dawn; for on the whirling wheel Has God our fortunes placed for good or ill.