The Argive Women[2]

CHTHONO    MYRTILLA     RHODOPE    PASIPHASSA     GORGO    SITYS *    *    *    *    *     SCENE     The women's house in the House of Paris in Troy.     TIME.--The Tenth year of the War. *    *    *    *    *     Helen's women are lying alone in the twilight hour. Chthono presently rises and throws a little incense upon the altar flame. Then she begins to speak to the Image of Aphrodite in a low and tired voice.         CHTHONO     Goddess of burning and little rest,     By the hand swaying on thy breast,     By glancing eye and slow sweet smile     Tell me what long look or what guile     Of thine it was that like a spear     Pierced her heart, who caged me here     In this close house, to be with her     Mistress at once and prisoner!     Far from earth and her pleasant ways     I lie, whose nights are as my days     In this dim house, where on the wall     I watch the shadows rise and fall     And know not what is reckt or done     By men and horses out in the sun,     Nor heed their traffic, nor their cheer     As forth they go or back, but hear     The fountain plash into the pond,     The brooding doves, and sighs of fond     Lovers whose lips yearn as they sever     For longer joy, joy such as never     Hath man but in the mind. But what     Men do without, that I know not     Who see them but as shadows thrown     Upon a screen. I see them blown     Like clouds of flies about the plain     Where the winds sweep them and make vain     Their panoplies. They hem the verge     Of this high wall to guard us--urge     Galloping horses into war     And meet in shock of battle, far     Below us and our dreams: withal     Ten years have past us in this thrall     Since Helen came with eyes agleam     To Troy, and trod the ways of dream.         GORGO     Men came about us, crying, "The Greeks!     Ships out at sea with high-held peaks     Like questing birds!" But I lay still     Kissing, nor turned.         RHODOPE         So I, until     The herald broke into my sleep,     Crying Agamemnon on the deep     With ships from high Mykenai. Then     I minded he was King of Men--     But not of women in the arms     They loved.         MYRTILLA         I heard their shrill alarms     Faint and far off, like an old fame.     Below this guarded house men came--     Chariots and horses clasht; they cried     King Agamemnon in his pride,     Or Hector, or young Diomede;     But I was kissing, could not heed     Aught save the eyes that held mine bound.     Anon a hush--anon the sound     Of hooves resistless, pounding--a cry,     "Achilles! Save yourselves!" But I--     Clinging I lay, and sighed in sign     That love must weary at last, even mine--     Even mine, Sweetheart!         PASIPHASSA         Who watcht when flared     Lord Hector like a meteor, dared     The high stockade and fired the ships?     I watcht his lips who had had my lips.         SITYS     And when he slew Menoikios' son,     Sister, what then?         PASIPHASSA         My cheek was wan     For lack of kissing--so I blew     On slumbering lids to draw anew     The eyes of him who had loved me well,     But now was faint.         CHTHONO         O Kypris, tell     The deeds of men, not lovers!         RHODOPE         Here     Came one all palsied in his fear,     Chattering and white, to Paris abed,     Flusht in his sleep--told Hector dead,     Dead and dishonoured, while he slept.     He sighed and turned. But Helen wept.         GORGO     Not I. I turned and felt warm draught     Of breath upon my cheek, and laught     Softly, and snuggling, slept.         CHTHONO         Fie, fie!     Goddess, drugged in thy dreams we lie,     Logs, not women, logs in the sun!         SITYS     Thou art sated. So fretteth One,     The very fount of Love's sweet well,     The chord of Love made visible,     Sickened of her own loveliness,     Haggard as hawk too long in jess,     Aching for flight.         MYRTILLA         Recall the bout     When Paris armed him and went out     Into the lists, and all men thronged     To see----         SITYS         Lord Paris and him he wronged     Fight for her, who should have her! We stood     Upon the walls, and she with her hood     Close to her cheek. But I saw the flicker     In her blue eyes!         PASIPHASSA         But I was quicker,     And saw the man she looked upon,     And after what her blue eyes shone     Like cyanus in morning light.         GORGO     Husband and lover she saw fight,     Man to man, with death between.         RHODOPE     Hatred coucht, as long and lean     As a lone wolf, on her man's crest--         PASIPHASSA     And bit the Trojan!         CHTHONO         Thine was the rest,     Goddess! And Helen lit the fire,     With her disdain, of his desire.         MYRTILLA     Her eyes burned like the frosty stars     Of winter midnight.         PASIPHASSA         His the scars!     Bitten in his wax-pale cheek.         CHTHONO     Nay, in his heart----         SITYS         Nay, in his bleak     And writhen smile you see it!         GORGO         Nay!     In his sick soul.         RHODOPE         Let him go his way!     Hear my thought of a happier thing--     Sparta's trees in flood of spring     Where Eurotas' banks abrim     Drown the reeds, and foam-clots swim     Like a scattered brood of duck!         MYRTILLA     Flowers anod! White flowers to pluck,     Stiffened in the foamy curds!     Ah, the green thickets quick with birds!         SITYS     Calling Itys! Itys! Itys!         PASIPHASSA     She calls not here--her house it is     In Sparta!         RHODOPE (with a sob)         Peace!         CHTHONO         From my heart a cry--     Send me back, Goddess, ere I die     To those dear places and clean things--     To see my people, feel the wings     Of the gray night fold over me,     And touch my mother's knees, and be     Her child, as long ago I was     Before I lay burning in Ilios!         [They hide their faces in their knees.         Then one by one they sing.]     Let me sing an old sweet air,     Mother of Argos, to Thee,     For hope in my heart is fair     As light on the hills seen from afar at sea;     And my weary eyes turn there     As to the haven where my soul would be.         RHODOPE     I will arise and make choice     The house of my tumbled breast,     For she cometh, I hear the voice     Of her wings of healing, and she shall be my guest;     And my joys shall be her joys,     And my home her home, O wind of the South West!         GORGO     As a bird that listens and thrills,     Hidden deep in the night,     For the sound of the little rills     That run musically towards the light;     As a hart to the high hills     Turneth his dying eyes, my soul takes flight.         MYRTILLA     Ah, to be folded deep     In the shade of Taygetus,     In my mother's arms to sleep     Even as a child when I lay harboured thus!     Oh, that I were as thy sheep,     Lacedaemon, my land, cradle and nurse of us!         PASIPHASSA     In Argos they sow the grain,     In Troy blood is their sowing;     There a green mantle covers the plain     Where the sweet green corn and sweet short grass are growing;     But here passion and pain--     Blood and dust upon earth, and a hot wind blowing.         SITYS     To the hold on the far red hill     From the hold on the wide green lea,     Over the running water, follow who will     Therapnae's hawk with the dove of Amyklae.     But I would lie husht and still,     And feel the new grass growing quick over me!     [The scene grows dark as they sit.         Their eyes are full of tears.         Presently one looks up, listening, then another, then another. They are all alert.]         CHTHONO     Who prayeth peace? I feel her peace     Steal through me as a quiet air     Enters the house with sweet increase     Of light to healing, praise to prayer!         RHODOPE     What do I know of guiltiness     When she is here, and with grave eyes     Seeketh the ways of quietness     And lampeth them?         GORGO         Arise, arise!         [They all stand waiting.]         MYRTILLA     Hark! Her footfall like the dew--         PASIPHASSA     As a flower by frost made sere     Long before the sun breaks through,     Feeleth him, I know her near.         [Helen stands in the doorway.]         CHTHONO     This is she, the source of light,     Source of light and end of it,     Argive Helen, slim and sweet,     For whose bosom and delight,     For whose eyes, those wells of peace,     Paris wrought, as well he might,     Ten years' woe for Troy and Greece.         RHODOPE     Starry wonder that she was,     Caged like sea-bird in his arms,     See her passion thrill, then pass     From him who, doting on her charms,     So became abominable.     Watch her bosom dip and swell,     See her nostrils fan and curve     At his touch who loved not well,     But loved too much, who broke the spell;     Watch her proud head stiffen and swerve.         GORGO     Upon the wall with claspt white hands     See her vigil keep intent,     Argive Helen, lo! she stands     Looking seaward where the fires     Hem the shore innumerable;     Sign of that avenging host,     All Achaia's chivalry,     Past the tongue of man to tell,     Peers and kindred of her sires     Come to win back Helen lost.         MYRTILLA     There to her in that gray hour,     That gray hour before the sun,     Cometh he she waiteth for,     Menelaus like a ghost,     Like a dry leaf tempest-tost,     Stalking restless, her reproach.         PASIPHASSA     There alone, those two, long severed been,     Eye each other, one wild heart between.         SITYS     "O thou ruinous face,     O thou fatally fair,     O the pity of thee!     What dost thou there,     Watching the madness of me?"         CHTHONO     Him seemed her eyes were pools of dark     To drown him, yet no word she spake;     But gazing, grave as a lonely house,     All her wonder thrilled to wake.         RHODOPE     "By thy roses and snow,     By thy sun-litten hair,     By thy low bosom and slow     Pondered kisses, O hear!     "By thy glimmering eyes,     By thy burning cheek,     By thy murmuring sighs,     Speak, Helen, O speak!     "Ruinous Face, O Ruinous Face,     Art thou come so early," he said,     "So early forth from the wicked bed?"         GORGO     Him she pondered, grave and still,     Stirring not from her safe place:     He marked the glow, he felt the thrill,     He saw the dawn new in her face.         MYRTILLA     Within her low voice wailed the tone     Of one who grieves and prays for death:     "Lord, I am come to be alone,     Alone here with my sorrow," she saith.         PASIPHASSA     "False wife, what pity was thine     For hearth and altar, for man and child?     What is thy sorrow worth unto mine?"     She rocked, moaning, "I was beguiled!"         SITYS     Ten years' woe for Troy and Greece     By her begun, the slim, the sweet,     Ended by her in final peace     Of him who loved her first of all;     Nor ever swerved from his high passion,     But through misery and shame     Saw her spirit like a flame     Eloquent of her sacred fashion--     Hers whose eyes are homes of light,     To which she tends, from which she came.     1912.