ZEUS. Up! Hasten! Turn
Thy pinions' flight toward far Scamander's bank!
A shepherd there is weeping o'er the grave
Of his loved shepherdess. No one shall weep
When Zeus is loving: Call the dead to life!
MERCURY. (Rising.)
Let but thy head a nod almighty give,
And in an instant I am there,—am back
In the same instant—
ZEUS. Stay! As I o'er Argos
Was flying, from my temples curling rose
The sacrificial smoke: it gave me joy
That thus the people worship me—so fly
To Ceres, to my sister,—thus speaks Zeus:
"Ten-thousandfold for fifty years to come
Let her reward the Argive husbandmen!"—
MERCURY.
With trembling haste I execute thy wrath,—
With joyous speed thy messages of grace,
Father of all! For to the deities
'Tis bliss to make man happy; to destroy him
Is anguish to the gods. Thy will be done!
Where shall I pour into thine ears their thanks,—
Below in dust, or at thy throne on high?
ZEUS.
Here at my throne on earth—within the palace,
Of Semele! Away! [Exit Mercury.
Does she not come,
As is her wont, Olympus' mighty king
To clasp against her rapture-swelling breast?
Why hastens not my Semele to meet me?
A vacant, deathlike, fearful silence reigns
On every side around the lonely palace,
So wont to ring with wild bacchantic shouts—
No breath is stirring—on Cithaeron's height
Exulting Juno stands. Will Semele
Never again make haste to meet her Zeus?
(A pause, after which he continues.)
Ha! Can yon impious one perchance have dared
To set her foot in my love's sanctuary?—
Saturnia—Mount Cithaeron—her rejoicings
Fearful foreboding!—Semele—yet peace!—
Take courage!—I'm thy Zeus! the scattered heavens
Shall learn, my Semele, that I'm thy Zeus!
Where is the breath of air that dares presume
Roughly to blow on her whom Zeus calls His?
I scoff at all her malice.—Where art thou,
O Semele? I long have pined to rest
My world-tormented head upon thy breast,—
To lull my wearied senses to repose
From the wild storm of earthly joys and woes,—
To dream away the emblems of my might,
My reins, my tiller, and my chariot bright,
And live for naught beyond the joys of love!
Oh heavenly inspiration, that can move
Even the Gods divine! What is the blood
Of mighty Uranus—what all the flood
Of nectar and ambrosia—what the throne
Of high Olympus—what the power I own,
The golden sceptre of the starry skies—
What the omnipotence that never dies,
What might eternal, immortality—
What e'en a god, oh love, if reft of thee?
The shepherd who, beside the murmuring brooks,
Leans on his true love's breast, nor cares to look
After his straying lambs, in that sweet hour
Envies me not my thunderbolt of power!
She comes—she hastens nigh! Pearl of my works,
Woman! the artist who created thee
Should be adored. 'Twas I—myself I worship
Zeus worships Zeus, for Zeus created thee.
Ha! Who will now, in all the being-realm,
Condemn me? How unseen, yes, how despised
Dwindle away my worlds, my constellations
So ray-diffusing, all my dancing systems,
What wise men call the music of my spheres!—
How dead are all when weighed against a soul!
(Semele approaches, without looking up.)
My pride! my throne on earth! Oh Semele!
(He rushes towards her; she seeks to fly.)
Thou flyest?—art mute?—Ha! Semele! thou flyest?
SEMELE. (Repulsing him.)
Away!
ZEUS. (After a pause of astonishment.)
Is Jupiter asleep? Will Nature
Rush to her fall?—Can Semele speak thus?
What, not an answer? Eagerly mine arms
Toward thee are stretched—my bosom never throbbed
Responsive to Agenor's daughter,—never
Throbbed against Leda's breast,—my lips ne'er burned
For the sweet kiss of prisoned Danae,
As now—
SEMELE. Peace, traitor! Peace!
ZEUS. (With displeasure, but tenderly.) My Semele!
SEMELE.
Out of my sight!