Therefore
I rede you, bring no shame on me
Now when man's eye beholds your maiden prime.
Now when man's eye beholds your maiden prime.
Aeschylus
Therein are many dwellings for such guests
As the State honours; there myself am housed
Within a palace neither scant nor strait.
There dwell ye, if ye will to lodge at ease
In halls well-thronged: yet, if your soul prefer,
Tarry secluded in a separate home.
Choose ye and cull, from these our proffered gifts,
Whiche'er is best and sweetest to your will:
And I and all these citizens whose vote
Stands thus decreed, will your protectors be.
Look not to find elsewhere more loyal guard.
[Footnote: 6: For this curious taunt, strongly illustrative of what
Browning calls "nationality in drinks," see Herodotus, ii. 77. A
similar feeling may perhaps be traced in Tacitus' description of the
national beverage of the Germans: "Potui humor ex hordeo aut frumento,
_in quandam similitudinem vini corruptus_" (_Germania_, chap, xxiii). ]
CHORUS
O godlike chief, God grant my prayer:
_Fair blessings on thy proffers fair,
Lord of Pelasgia's race_!
Yet, of thy grace, unto our side
Send thou the man of courage tried,
Of counsel deep and prudent thought,--
Be Danaus to his children brought;
For his it is to guide us well
And warn where it behoves to dwell--
What place shall guard and shelter us
From malice and tongues slanderous:
Swift always are the lips of blame
A stranger-maiden to defame--
But Fortune give us grace!
THE KING OF ARGOS
A stainless fame, a welcome kind
From all this people shall ye find:
Dwell therefore, damsels, loved of us,
Within our walls, as Danaus
Allots to each, in order due,
Her dower of attendants true.
[_Re-enter_ DANAUS. DANAUS
High thanks, my children, unto Argos con,
And to this folk, as to Olympian gods,
Give offerings meet of sacrifice and wine;
For saviours are they in good sooth to you.
From me they heard, and bitter was their wrath,
How those your kinsmen strove to work you wrong,
And how of us were thwarted: then to me
This company of spearmen did they grant,
That honoured I might walk, nor unaware
Die by some secret thrust and on this land
Bring down the curse of death, that dieth not.
Such boons they gave me: it behoves me pay
A deeper reverence from a soul sincere.
Ye, to the many words of wariness
Spoken by me your father, add this word,
That, tried by time, our unknown company
Be held for honest: over-swift are tongues
To slander strangers, over-light is speech
To bring pollution on a stranger's name.
Therefore I rede you, bring no shame on me
Now when man's eye beholds your maiden prime.
Lovely is beauty's ripening harvest-field,
But ill to guard; and men and beasts, I wot,
And birds and creeping things make prey of it.
And when the fruit is ripe for love, the voice
Of Aphrodite bruiteth it abroad,
The while she guards the yet unripened growth.
On the fair richness of a maiden's bloom
Each passer looks, o'ercome with strong desire,
With eyes that waft the wistful dart of love.
Then be not such our hap, whose livelong toil
Did make our pinnace plough the mighty main:
Nor bring we shame upon ourselves, and joy
Unto my foes. Behold, a twofold home--
One of the king's and one the people's gift--
Unbought, 'tis yours to hold,--a gracious boon.
Go--but remember ye your sire's behest,
And hold your life less dear than chastity.
CHORUS
The gods above grant that all else be well.
But fear not thou, O sire, lest aught befall
Of ill unto our ripened maidenhood.
So long as Heaven have no new ill devised,
From its chaste path my spirit shall not swerve.
SEMI-CHORUS
Pass and adore ye the Blessed, the gods of the city
who dwell
Around Erasinus, the gush of the swift immemorial
tide.
SEMI-CHORUS
Chant ye, O maidens; aloud let the praise of
Pelasgia swell;
Hymn we no longer the shores where Nilus to ocean
doth glide.
SEMI-CHORUS
Sing we the bounteous streams that ripple and gush
through the city;
Quickening flow they and fertile, the soft new life of
the plain.
SEMI-CHORUS
Artemis, maiden most pure, look on us with grace
and with pity--
Save us from forced embraces: such love hath no
crown but a pain.
SEMI-CHORUS
Yet not in scorn we chant, but in honour of
Aphrodite;
She truly and Hera alone have power with Zeus and
control.
Holy the deeds of her rite, her craft is secret and
mighty,
And high is her honour on earth, and subtle her
sway of the soul.