Throughout
our toil,
These many years, some chances issued fair,
And some, I wot, were chequered with a curse.
These many years, some chances issued fair,
And some, I wot, were chequered with a curse.
Aeschylus
CHORUS
Hail, herald of the Greeks, new-come from war.
HERALD
All hail! not death itself can fright me now.
CHORUS
Was thine heart wrung with longing for thy land?
HERALD
So that this joy doth brim mine eyes with tears.
CHORUS
On you too then this sweet distress did fall--
HERALD
How say'st thou? make me master of thy word.
CHORUS
You longed for us who pined for you again.
HERALD
Craved the land us who craved it, love for love?
CHORUS
Yea till my brooding heart moaned out with pain.
HERALD
Whence thy despair, that mars the army's joy?
CHORUS
_Sole cure of wrong is silence,_ saith the saw.
HERALD
Thy kings afar, couldst thou fear other men?
CHORUS
Death had been sweet, as thou didst say but now.
HERALD
'Tis true; Fate smiles at last.
Throughout our toil,
These many years, some chances issued fair,
And some, I wot, were chequered with a curse.
But who, on earth, hath won the bliss of heaven,
Thro' time's whole tenor an unbroken weal?
I could a tale unfold of toiling oars,
Ill rest, scant landings on a shore rock-strewn,
All pains, all sorrows, for our daily doom.
And worse and hatefuller our woes on land;
For where we couched, close by the foeman's wall,
The river-plain was ever dank with dews,
Dropped from the sky, exuded from the earth,
A curse that clung unto our sodden garb,
And hair as horrent as a wild beast's fell.
Why tell the woes of winter, when the birds
Lay stark and stiff, so stern was Ida's snow?
Or summer's scorch, what time the stirless wave
Sank to its sleep beneath the noon-day sun?
Why mourn old woes? their pain has passed away;
And passed away, from those who fell, all care,
For evermore, to rise and live again.
Why sum the count of death, and render thanks
For life by moaning over fate malign?
Farewell, a long farewell to all our woes!
To us, the remnant of the host of Greece,
Comes weal beyond all counterpoise of woe;
Thus boast we rightfully to yonder sun,
Like him far-fleeted over sea and land.
_The Argive host prevailed to conquer Troy,
And in the temples of the gods of Greece
Hung up these spoils, a shining sign to Time. _
Let those who learn this legend bless aright
The city and its chieftains, and repay
The meed of gratitude to Zeus who willed
And wrought the deed. So stands the tale fulfilled.
CHORUS
Thy words o'erbear my doubt: for news of good,
The ear of age hath ever youth enow:
But those within and Clytemnestra's self
Would fain hear all; glad thou their ears and mine.
_Re-enter_ CLYTEMNESTRA
Last night, when first the fiery courier came,
In sign that Troy is ta'en and razed to earth,
So wild a cry of joy my lips gave out,
That I was chidden--_Hath the beacon watch
Made sure unto thy soul the sack of Troy?