Part 13 (1/2)

Then the Chorus address themselves to a Choral Ode in memory of the Spirit now pa.s.sed beneath the earth: the evolutions as usual, carrying them with each Strophe to one end of the Orchestra, and with the Antistrophe back to the Altar._

CHORAL INTERLUDE II

_Strophe_ I

Immortal bliss be thine, {446} Daughter of Pelias, in the realms below, Immortal pleasures round thee flow, Though never there the sun's bright beams shall s.h.i.+ne.

Be the black-brow'd Pluto told, And the Stygian boatman old, Whose rude hands grasp the oar, the rudder guide, The dead conveying o'er the tide,-- Let him be told, so rich a freight before His light skiff never bore; Tell him that o'er the joyless lakes The n.o.blest of her s.e.x her dreary pa.s.sage takes.

_Antistrophe I_

Thy praise the bards shall tell, When to their hymning voice the echo rings, Or when they sweep the solemn strings, And wake to rapture the seven-chorded sh.e.l.l: Or in Sparta's jocund bow'rs, Circling when the vernal hours Bring the Carnean Feast, whilst through the night Full-orb'd the high moon rolls her light; Or where rich Athens, proudly elevate, Shows her magnific state: Their voice thy glorious death shall raise, And swell th' enraptured strain to celebrate thy praise.

_Strophe II_

O that I had the pow'r, Could I but bring thee from the shades of night, Again to view this golden light, To leave that boat, to leave that dreary sh.o.r.e, Where Cocytus, deep and wide, Rolls along his sullen tide!

For thou, O best of women, thou alone For thy lord's life daredst give thy own.

Light lie the earth upon thy gentle breast, And be thou ever blest!

While, should he choose to wed again, Mine and his children's hearts would hold him in disdain.

_Antistrophe II_

When, to avert his doom, His mother in the earth refused to lie; Nor would his ancient father die To save his son from an untimely tomb; Though the hand of time had spread h.o.a.r hairs o'er each aged head: In youth's fresh bloom, in beauty's radiant glow, The darksome way thou daredst to go, And for thy youthful lord's to give thy life.

Be ours so true a wife!

Though rare the lot, then should we prove Th' indissoluble bond of faithfulness and love.

EPISODE II

_Enter on the Stage through the distance-entrance [Left Side-door] the colossal figure of Hercules. Here is the turning-point of the play: which has the peculiarity of combining an element of the Satyric Drama (or Burlesque) with Tragedy, the combination antic.i.p.ating the 'Action-Drama' (or 'Tragi-Comedy') of modern times. Accordingly the costume and mask of Hercules are compounded, of his conventional appearance in Tragedy, in which he is conceived as the perfection of physical strength toiling and suffering for mankind, and his conventional appearance in Satyric plays as the gigantic feeder, etc.

The two are harmonized in the conception of conscious energy rejoicing in itself, and plunging with equal eagerness into duty and relaxation, while each lasts._

_Hercules_ hails the Chorus and enquires for Admetus. They reply that he is within the Palace, and [shrinking, like all Greeks, from being the first to tell evil tidings] turn the conversation by enquiring what brings the Demi-G.o.d to Pherae--_in stichomuthic dialogue_ it is brought out that Hercules is on his way to one of his 'Labors'--that of the Thracian Steeds; and (so lightly does the thought of toil sit on him) it appears he has not troubled to enquire what the task meant: from the Chorus he learns for the first time the many dangers before him, and how the Steeds are devourers of human flesh.

_Herc._ A toil you tell of that well fits my fate, {517} My life of hards.h.i.+p, ever struggling upward.

Admetus now appears, in mourning garb: after first salutations between the two friends, Hercules enquires what his trouble is, which gives scope for a favorite effect in Greek Drama--'dissimulation.'

_Herc._ Why are thy locks in sign of mourning shorn? {530} _Adm._ 'Tis for one dead, whom I to-day must bury.

_Herc._ The G.o.ds avert thy mourning for a child!

_Adm._ My children, what I had, live in my house.

_Herc._ Thy aged father, haply he is gone.

_Adm._ My father lives, and she that bore me lives.

_Herc._ Lies then thy wife Alcestis mongst the dead?

_Adm._ Of her I have in double wise to speak.

_Herc._ As of the living speakst thou, or the dead?

_Adm._ She is, and is no more: this grief afflicts me.

_Herc._ This gives no information: dark thy words. {540} _Adm._ Knowst thou not then the destiny a.s.sign'd her?

_Herc._ I know that she submits to die for thee.