Statues of Penelope and Helen might stand in beautiful and expressive contrast; but it is a contrast which no profane or prosaic hand should attempt to realise. Penelope is all woman in her tenderness and her truth; Helen, half a goddess in the midst of error and remorse.
Nor is Penelope the only character which might stand as a type of conjugal fidelity in contrasted companionship with Helen: Alcestis, who died for her husband; or, better still, Laodamia, whose intense love and longing recalled hers from the shades below, are susceptible of the most beautiful statuesque treatment; only we must bear in mind that the leading motif in the Alcestis is duty, in the Laodamia, love.
I remember a bas-relief in the Vatican, which represents Hermes restoring Protesilaus to his mourning wife. The interview was granted for three hours only; and when the hero was taken from her a second time, she died on the threshhold of her palace. This is a frequent and appropriate subject for sarcophagi and funereal vases. But there exists, I believe, no single statue commemorative of the wife’s passionate devotion.
The modern sculptor should penetrate his fancy with the sentiment of Wordsworth’s Laodamia.
While the pen is in my hand I may remark that two of the stanzas in the Laodamia have been altered, and, as it seems to me, not improved, since the first edition. Originally the poem opened thus:
| “With sacrifice, before the rising morn Perform’d, my slaughter’d lord have I required; And in thick darkness, amid shades forlorn, Him of the infernal Gods have I desired: Celestial pity I again implore; Restore him to my sight—great Jove, restore!” |
Altered thus, and comparatively flat:—
| “With sacrifice before the rising morn Vows have I made, by fruitless hope inspired; And from the infernal Gods, mid shades forlorn Of night, my slaughtered lord have I required: Celestial pity I again implore; Restore him to my sight—great Jove, restore!” |
In the early edition the last stanza but one stood thus:—