MESS. Dear lady, I will tell thee what I saw,
And hide no grain of truth: why should I soothe
Thy spirit with soft tales, when the harsh fact
Must prove me a liar? Truth is always best.
I duly led the footsteps of thy lord
To the highest point of the plain, where still was lying,
Forlorn and mangled by the dogs, the corse
Of Polynices. We besought Persephonè
And Pluto gently to restrain their wrath,
And wash’d him pure and clean, and then we burned
The poor remains with brushwood freshly pulled,
And heaped a lofty mound of his own earth
Above him. Then we turned us to the vault,
The maiden’s stony bride-chamber of death.
And from afar, round the unhallowed cell,
One heard a voice of wailing loud and long,
And went and told his lord: who coming near
Was haunted by the dim and bitter cry,
And suddenly exclaiming on his fate
Said lamentably, ‘My prophetic heart
Divined aright. I am going, of all ways
That e’er I went, the unhappiest to-day.
My son’s voice smites me. Go, my men, approach
With speed, and, where the stones are torn away,
Press through the passage to that door of death,
Look hard, and tell me, if I hear aright
[page 37][1218-1252] The voice of Haemon, or the gods deceive me.’
Thus urged by our despairing lord, we made
Th’ espial. And in the farthest nook of the vault
We saw the maiden hanging by the neck
With noose of finest tissue firmly tied,
And clinging to her on his knees the boy,
Lamenting o’er his ruined nuptial-rite,
Consummated in death, his father’s crime
And his lost love. And when the father saw him,
With loud and dreadful clamour bursting in
He went to him and called him piteously:
‘What deed is this, unhappy youth? What thought
O’ermaster’d thee? Where did the force of woe
O’erturn thy reason? O come forth, my son,
I beg thee!’ But with savage eyes the youth
Glared scowling at him, and without a word
Plucked forth his two-edged blade. The father then
Fled and escaped: but the unhappy boy,
Wroth with himself, even where he stood, leant heavily
Upon his sword and plunged it in his side.—
And while the sense remained, his slackening arm
Enfolded still the maiden, and his breath,
Gaspingly drawn and panted forth with pain,
Cast ruddy drops upon her pallid face;
Then lay in death upon the dead, at last
Joined to his bride in Hades’ dismal hall:—
A monument unto mankind, that rashness
Is the worst evil of this mortal state.[Exit EURYDICE
CH. What augur ye from this? The queen is gone
Without word spoken either good or bad.
MESS. I, too, am struck with dread. But hope consoles me,
That having heard the affliction of her son,
Her pride forbids to publish her lament
Before the town, but to her maids within
She will prescribe to mourn the loss of the house.
She is too tried in judgement to do ill.
CH. I cannot tell. The extreme of silence, too,
Is dangerous, no less than much vain noise.
[page 38][1253-1283] MESS. Well, we may learn, if there be aught unseen
Suppressed within her grief-distempered soul,
By going within the palace. Ye say well:
There is a danger, even in too much silence.
CH. Ah! look where sadly comes our lord the King,
Bearing upon his arm a monument—
If we may speak it—of no foreign woe,
But of his own infirmity the fruit.
Enter CREON with the body of HAEMON.
CR. O error of my insensate soul,I 1
Stubborn, and deadly in the fateful end!
O ye who now behold
Slayer and slain of the same kindred blood!
O bitter consequence of seeming-wise decree!
Alas, my son!
Strange to the world wert thou, and strange the fate
That took thee off, that slew thee; woe is me!
Not for thy rashness, but my folly. Ah me!
CH. Alas for him who sees the right too late!
CR. Alas!
I have learnt it now. But then upon my head
Some God had smitten with dire weight of doom;
And plunged me in a furious course, woe is me!
Discomforting and trampling on my joy.
Woe! for the bitterness of mortal pain!