The Trojan women of Euripides by Euripides (story books for 5 year olds .TXT) 📕

the circuit piled
By loving Gods, so savagely hath rent
Thy curls, these little flowers innocent
That were thy mother's garden, where she laid
Her kisses; here, just where the bone-edge frayed
Grins white above—Ah heaven, I will not see!
  Ye tender arms, the same dear mould have ye
As his; how from the shoulder loose ye drop
And weak! And dear proud lips, so full of hope
And closed for ever! What false words ye said
At daybreak, when he crept into my bed,
Called me kind names, and promised: 'Grandmother,
When thou art dead, I will cut close my hair
And lead out all the captains to ride by
Thy tomb.' Why didst thou cheat me so? 'Tis I,
Old, homeless, childless, that for thee must shed
Cold tears, so young, so miserably dead.
  Dear God, the pattering welcomes of thy feet,
The nursing in my lap; and O, the sweet
Falling asleep together! All is gone.
How should a poet carve the funeral stone
To tell thy story true? 'There lieth here
A babe whom the Greeks feared, and in their fear
Slew him.' Aye, Greece will bless the tale it
    tells!
  Child, they have left thee beggared of all else
In Hector's house; but one thing shalt thou keep,
This war-shield bronzen-barred, wherein to sleep.
Alas, thou guardian true of Hector's fair
Left arm, how art thou masterless! And there
I see his handgrip printed on thy hold;
And deep stains of the precious sweat, that rolled
In battle from the brows and beard of him,
Drop after drop, are writ about thy rim.
  Go, bring them—such poor garments hazardous
As these days leave. God hath not granted us
Wherewith to make much pride. But all I can,
I give thee, Child of Troy.—O vain is man,
Who glorieth in his joy and hath no fears:
While to and fro the chances of the years
Dance like an idiot in the wind! And none
By any strength hath his own fortune won.

[During these lines several Women are seen approaching with garlands and raiment in their hands.

LEADER.

Lo these, who bear thee raiment harvested
From Ilion's slain, to fold upon the dead.

[During the following scene HECUBA gradually takes the garments and wraps them about the Child.

HECUBA.

O not in pride for speeding of the car
Beyond thy peers, not for the shaft of war
True aimed, as Phrygians use; not any prize
Of joy for thee, nor splendour in men's eyes,
Thy father's mother lays these offerings
About thee, from the many fragrant things
That were all thine of old. But now no more.
One woman, loathed of God, hath broke the door
And robbed thy treasure-house, and thy warm breath
Made cold, and trod thy people down to death!

CHORUS. Some Women.

Deep in the heart of me
     I feel thine hand,
Mother: and is it he
Dead here, our prince to be,
     And lord of the land?

HECUBA.

Glory of Phrygian raiment, which my thought
Kept for thy bridal day with some far-sought
Queen of the East, folds thee for evermore.
  And thou, grey Mother, Mother-Shield that bore

THE TROJAN WOMEN

A thousand days of glory, thy last crown
Is here…. Dear Hector's shield! Thou shalt lie
  down
Undying with the dead, and lordlier there
Than all the gold Odysseus' breast can bear,
The evil and the strong!

CHORUS. Some Women.

Child of the Shield-bearer,
   Alas, Hector's child!
Great Earth, the All-mother,
Taketh thee unto her
   With wailing wild!

Others.
   Mother of misery,
   Give Death his song!

(HEC. Woe!) Aye and bitterly

(HEC. Woe!) We too weep for thee,
   And the infinite wrong!

[During these lines HECUBA, kneeling by the body, has been performing a funeral rite, symbolically staunching the dead Child's wounds.

HECUBA.

     I make thee whole[45];
I bind thy wounds, O little vanished soul.
This wound and this I heal with linen white:
O emptiness of aid!… Yet let the rite
Be spoken. This and…. Nay, not I, but he,
Thy father far away shall comfort thee!

[She bows her head to the ground and remains motionless and unseeing.

CHORUS.

Beat, beat thine head:
  Beat with the wailing chime
  Of hands lifted in time:
Beat and bleed for the dead.
Woe is me for the dead!

HECUBA.

O Women! Ye, mine own….

[She rises bewildered, as though she had seen a vision.

LEADER.

     Hecuba, speak!
Oh, ere thy bosom break….

HECUBA.

Lo, I have seen the open hand of God[46];
And in it nothing, nothing, save the rod
Of mine affliction, and the eternal hate,
Beyond all lands, chosen and lifted great
For Troy! Vain, vain were prayer and incense-swell
And bulls' blood on the altars!… All is well.
Had He not turned us in His hand, and thrust
Our high things low and shook our hills as dust,
We had not been this splendour, and our wrong
An everlasting music for the song
Of earth and heaven!

     Go, women: lay our dead
In his low sepulchre. He hath his meed
Of robing. And, methinks, but little care
Toucheth the tomb, if they that moulder there
Have rich encerement. 'Tis we, 'tis we,
That dream, we living and our vanity!

[The Women bear out the dead Child upon the shield, singing, when presently flames of fire and dim forms are seen among the ruins of the City.

CHORUS. Some Women.

Woe for the mother that bare thee, child,
  Thread so frail of a hope so high,
That Time hath broken: and all men smiled
  About thy cradle, and, passing by,
  Spoke of thy father's majesty.
      Low, low, thou liest!

Others.

Ha! Who be these on the crested rock?
Fiery hands in the dusk, and a shock
Of torches flung! What lingereth still,
O wounded City, of unknown ill,
    Ere yet thou diest?

TALTHYBIUS (coming out through the ruined Wall).

Ye Captains that have charge to wreck this keep
Of Priam's City, let your torches sleep
No more! Up, fling the fire into her heart!
Then have we done with Ilion, and may part
In joy to Hellas from this evil land.
  And ye—so hath one word two faces—stand,
Daughters of Troy, till on your ruined wall
The echo of my master's trumpet call
In signal breaks: then, forward to the sea,
Where the long ships lie waiting.

     And for thee,
O ancient woman most unfortunate,
Follow: Odysseus' men be here, and wait
To guide thee…. 'Tis to him thou go'st for thrall.

HECUBA.

Ah, me! and is it come, the end of all,
The very crest and summit of my days?
I go forth from my land, and all its ways
Are filled with fire! Bear me, O aged feet,
A little nearer: I must gaze, and greet
My poor town ere she fall.

     Farewell, farewell!
O thou whose breath was mighty on the swell
Of orient winds, my Troy! Even thy name
Shall soon be taken from thee. Lo, the flame
Hath thee, and we, thy children, pass away
To slavery…. God! O God of mercy!… Nay:
Why call I on the Gods? They know, they know,
My prayers, and would not hear them long ago.
  Quick, to the flames! O, in thine agony,
My Troy, mine own, take me to die with thee!

[She springs toward the flames, but is seized and held by the Soldiers.

TALTHYBIUS.

Back! Thou art drunken with thy miseries,
Poor woman!—Hold her fast, men, till it please
Odysseus that she come. She was his lot
Chosen from all and portioned. Lose her not!

[He goes to watch over the burning of the City. The dusk deepens.

CHORUS. Divers Women.

     Woe, woe, woe!
Thou of the Ages[47], O wherefore fleëst thou,
  Lord of the Phrygian, Father that made us?
  'Tis we, thy children; shall no man aid us?
  'Tis we, thy children! Seëst thou, seëst thou?

Others.

 He seëth, only his heart is pitiless;
     And the land dies: yea, she,
She of the Mighty Cities perisheth citiless!
     Troy shall no more be!

Others.

Woe, woe, woe!
  Ilion shineth afar!
Fire in the deeps thereof,
Fire in the heights above,
  And crested walls of War!

Others.
   As smoke on the wing of heaven
     Climbeth and scattereth,
   Torn of the spear and driven,
     The land crieth for death:
O stormy battlements that red fire hath riven,
     And the sword's angry breath!

[A new thought comes to HECUBA; she kneels and beats the earth with her hands.

HECUBA.

[Strophe.

O Earth, Earth of my children; hearken! and O
  mine own,
Ye have hearts and forget not, ye in the darkness
  lying!

LEADER.

Now hast thou found thy prayer[48], crying to them that are gone.

HECUBA.

Surely my knees are weary, but I kneel above your
  head;
Hearken, O ye so silent! My hands beat your bed!

LEADER.

    I, I am near thee;
    I kneel to thy dead to hear thee,
Kneel to mine own in the darkness; O husband, hear
  my crying!

HECUBA.

Even as the beasts they drive, even as the loads they
  bear,

LEADER.
(Pain; O pain!)

HECUBA.

We go to the house of bondage. Hear, ye dead, O
  hear!

LEADER.
(Go, and come not again!)

HECUBA.

Priam, mine own Priam,
  Lying so lowly,
Thou in thy nothingness,
Shelterless, comfortless,
See'st thou the thing I am?
Know'st thou my bitter stress?

LEADER.

Nay, thou art naught to him!
Out of the strife there came,
Out of the noise and shame,
Making his eyelids dim,
  Death, the Most Holy!
[The fire and smoke rise constantly higher.

HECUBA.

[Antistrophe.
O high houses of Gods, beloved streets of my birth,
  Ye have found the way of the sword, the fiery and
     blood-red river!

LEADER.

Fall, and men shall forget you! Ye shall lie in the gentle earth.

HECUBA.

The dust as smoke riseth; it spreadeth wide its wing; It maketh me as a shadow, and my City a vanished thing!

LEADER.

  Out on the smoke she goeth,
  And her name no man knoweth;
And the cloud is northward, southward; Troy is gone
  for ever!

[A great crash is heard, and the Wall is lost in smoke and darkness.

HECUBA.

Ha! Marked ye? Heard ye? The crash of the towers that fall!

LEADER.

All is gone!

HECUBA.

Wrath in the earth and quaking and a flood that sweepeth all,

LEADER.

And passeth on! [The Greek trumpet sounds.

HECUBA.

Farewell!—O spirit grey,
  Whatso is coming,
Fail not from under me.
Weak limbs, why tremble ye?
Forth where the new long day
Dawneth to slavery!

CHORUS.

Farewell from parting lips,
Farewell!—Come, I and thou,
Whatso may wait us now,
Forth to the long Greek ships[49]
   And the sea's foaming.

[The trumpet sounds again, and the Women go out in the darkness.

NOTES ON THE TROJAN WOMEN

[1] Poseidon.]—In the Iliad Poseidon is the enemy of Troy, here the friend. This sort of confusion comes from the fact that the Trojans and their Greek enemies were largely of the same blood, with the same tribal gods. To the Trojans, Athena the War-Goddess was, of course, their War-Goddess, the protectress of their citadel. Poseidon, god of the sea and its merchandise, and Apollo (possibly a local shepherd god?), were their natural friends and had actually built their city wall for love of the good old king, Laomedon. Zeus, the great father, had Mount Ida for his holy hill and Troy for his peculiar city. (Cf. on p. 63.)

To suit the Greek point of view all this had to be changed or explained away. In the Iliad generally Athena is the proper War-Goddess of the Greeks. Poseidon had indeed built the wall for Laomedon, but Laomedon had cheated him of his reward—as afterwards he cheated Heracles, and the Argonauts and everybody else! So Poseidon hated Troy. Troy is chiefly defended by the barbarian Ares, the oriental Aphrodite, by its own rivers Scamander and Simois and suchlike inferior or unprincipled gods.

Yet traces of the other tradition remain. Homer knows that Athena is specially worshipped in Troy. He knows that Apollo, who had built the wall with Poseidon, and had the same experience of Laomedon, still loves the Trojans. Zeus himself, though eventually in obedience to destiny he permits the fall of the city, nevertheless has a great tenderness towards it.

[2] A steed marvellous.]—See below, on p. 36.

[3] go forth from great Ilion, &c.]—The correct ancient doctrine. When your gods forsook you, there was no more hope. Conversely, when your state became desperate, evidently your gods were forsaking you. From another point of view, also, when the city was desolate and unable to worship its gods, the gods of that city were no more.

[4] Laotian Tyndarid.]—Helen was the child of Zeus and Leda, and sister of Castor and Polydeuces; but her human father was Tyndareus, an old Spartan king. She is treated as "a prisoner and a prize," i.e., as a captured enemy, not as a Greek princess delivered from the Trojans.

[5] In secret slain.]—Because the Greeks were ashamed of the bloody deed. See below, p. 42,