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THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
A GREEK CHORIC PLAY
IN TWO CONTINUOUS ACTS SEPARATED BY
AN INTERLUDE OF VISIONS
By MARION MILLS MILLER
Litt. D. (Princeton)
Editor of "The Classics— Greek and Latin"; Translator of "The Sicilian Idyls of Theocritus," etc.
THE STRATFORD COMPANY : BOSTON 1917
Copyright 1917 by THE STRATFORD COMPANY
Dramatic rights reserved by the author
MARION MILLS MILLER
Carnegie Hall, New York, N. Y.
AUG 14 1917 ©CI. A4 7 0664
Preface
THIS play, while suited to the stage of the regular theater, is especially intended for performance in the open air, particularly within the stadia of our universities.
All but two of the speaking characters being women, it is peculiarly adapted to the requirements of women's schools and colleges.
Unlike the plots of the original Greek dramas, the story of the play is familiar to all persons possessing a good education in English alone, and the passions depicted, patriotism and comradeship, and love in all its natural aspects — between husband and wife, parent and child, mistress and maid, as well as be- tween man and woman — appeal no less to the modern than to the ancient mind. Motives such as incest and matricide, which were favorites with the Greek popu- lace, but which are abhorrent to people of the present day, are entirely omitted, and the doctrines of the hybris, pride, and of nemesis, its punishment, while these have been introduced as the essential religious elements of Greek drama, are paraphrased, as it were, so that the ancient theological aspect of the "sin" is obliterated in the universal ethical aspect. For dramatic as well as moral reasons this treatment may be justified. The purpose of the stage, says Shake- speare, is to show ' ' the very age and body of the time his form and pressure," not to galvanize an ancient
[iii]
iv THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
mummy to a mockery of life by a mechanical sub- stitute for a spirit which, happily for good art and good taste, as well as good morals, has forever fled.
In fine, the present play is written not for archeo- logical scholars but for average Americans — people who do not pretend to like what is alien to their na- tures in order to acquire a reputation for academic culture, and who, if they are to catch any measure of the Greek spirit, must mark its rhythm by the pulse of the red blood bounding in their own veins.
The play is open, from the scholar's standpoint, to the charge of anachronism, both constructive and specific, but this, it is maintained, is of form and fact rather than of spirit. Sappho, Theocritus, the Greek epigrammatists, and even the Latin Ovid, have been sources of phrase and legend, as well as Homer, although the action depicted is pre-Homeric. Even Homer himself is represented as a contemporary of Odysseus, the author's justification being the artistic if not the scholarly one that in "poetic justice" the blind bard ought to have come into personal contact with the heroes whom he depicted and whom he robbed of their proper laurels by ascribing their deeds to the gods.
Feminism, the spirit of woman, is presented as a dramatic motive, with the justification that it was rampant in ancient Greece, as witness the comedy of Aristophanes called "The Ecclesiazusae," or "The Women in Congress," a play which in a modern presentation that would paraphrase its timely wit might be very properly denominated "The Suf- fragettes. ' '
PREFACE v
In one lyric a modern invention (unless we recog- nize as its prototype the artificial wings of Daedalus), the aeroplane, is mentioned as a symbol of man's domination of the air, which was deemed in ancient times no less than in the present day a human right and ultimate achievement.
In short, the essential purpose of The Return of Odysseus has been to portray those phases of ancient life and thought and spirit which are also modern, doing so without regard to any special classic era, and employing any means of representation which universally obtains in order that these subjects may be comprehended by the modern non-scholastic mind.
Because of dramatic requirements certain liberties have been taken with the classic story which forms the plot of the play. For example, the slaughter of the suitors takes place in the Banquet Hall, and this did not permit of the preceding open-air scene de- scribed by Homer, where Odysseus wins the contest in archery.
Wherever practicable, however, the narrative of Homer has been faithfully followed. To this end, with a few adaptations necessary to make artistic compositions, the descriptions of the "visions" of Penelope (the various adventures of Odysseus on his way home from Troy) are given in the words of the Odyssey as rendered in that best of all English translations, the version of Butcher and Lang, which, being in Biblical prose, imparts to the English ear that effect of sacred associations which the original possessed for the Homer-reverencing Greek.
vi THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
The artistic spirit of the play proper is that of Aristophanes rather than of the Greek tragedians, especially in the employment of the chorus for spectacular and aesthetic effects. Nevertheless none of the Greek dramatic unities as observed by these tragedians is violated. The scene is the same through- out, and the action is continuous, taking place within less than the time of one day. The far more im- portant unities of the modern, or, better, the universal, stage, are also observed. The actors are persons who would naturally be present, and their exits and entrances are appropriately timed; the "properties" are few and simple and ready at hand, and the theatrical devices — visions, statue-poses, and cho- ruses — are far better suited to the occasion of their introduction than is usually the case in modern light opera, to which the play is aesthetically related.
The "visions," while with a few exceptions they would be more artistically, though very incompletely, presented in the form of tableaus or ' ' living pictures, ' ' may also be shown by the cinematograph, and thus reduce the number of the cast.
The play is frankly English in verse form, for the author, who has metrically translated several Greek poets, believes that any attempt to reproduce in a modern tongue the classic measures not only must fall far short of the original in artistic effect, but must also violate the principles of rhythm native to the languages of the present day. Thus to write "Sapphics" or Homeric hexameters in English, one must substitute for accent (the native, essential ele- ment of our prosody) the element of classic quantity,
PREFACE vii
which is worse than exotic, being utterly extinct and unrevivable as a practical metrical principle. The best that can be done in true English rhythmic transla- tion is to produce, not the identical aesthetic effect of the original Greek measures, but an equivalent effect. Thus Chapman, an English dramatist of the intensely dramatic Elizabethan age, translated Homer dramat- ically, even theatrically, for example, swelling the simple phrase, so thrilling to the reverential Greek, "When holy Troy shall fall," to "When holy Troy shall shed her towers for tears of overthrow" — a grandiose figure of speech perfectly suited to the boundless imagination of Chapman's time, and, in spite of its recognized incongruity, appealing with a measure of its former strength to the more controlled artistic sense of the present day.
Now to impart a modern equivalent effect of Greek poetry the blank verse usually employed by English translators and imitators is, except in rare passages, singularly inadequate, since, while the Greeks wrote in what technically may be called blank verse, their lines throughout were rich in tone-color, or sound symbolism, which in the evolution of phonetic art has received in English poetry the culminating addition of end rime. Rimed verse, especially in choruses, gives a nearer equivalent than English blank verse for the lyric effect of the Greek original which is necessarily lost in translation and imitation. Swinburne's "Atalanta in Calydon," vibrant with sensuous symbolism of sound and idea, reproduces the animated effect of Greek poetry where the "Merope" of Matthew Arnold, though severely classic in form, im-
viii THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
parts an impression of corpse-like coldness. The recent revival of interest in ancient Greek tragedies is largely due to the fact that these are presented in the excellent rimed versions of Dr. Gilbert Murray.
The verse of the present play, while rife in rime, is otherwise intentionally "flat" in tone-color, espe- cially in the more dramatic scenes, since the action has been held by the author to be more important than poetic form, and the "reader's attention" has therefore been concentrated upon it in obedience to the dictum of Herbert Spencer. In every respect lan- guage has been subordinated to that expression of ideas which is produced by emotional gesture and facial expression. The text is thus virtually a libretto of the dance, taking the latter term in the inclusive sense of all choric movements.
The action of the play, in its aesthetic aspect, is Hellenic in a modified form, being a physical inter- pretation of the Greek spirit according to the system of Francois Delsarte, which, because of the non-es- sential mystical claims made for it by its originator, and the unintelligent application of it by many of his disciples, has fallen somewhat into disrepute. Never- theless this is capable of high development, and seems to be the only system of bodily expression of emotion by which the puerile ballet may be exalted into a really high art-form. At least it is a coherent phi- losophy of expression, and of this the choric art is sadly in need. For example, few dancers understand, except instinctively, the natural relation between motion and pose, namely, that the latter should never stand by itself, but always be preceded by action —
PREFACE ix
the more energetic the better. I have seen an enter- tainment in which a woman, who had previously demonstrated her ability as a dancer by most artistic renditions of the violent movements of a nautch-girl, appeared in a succession of poses with the least pos- sible action between them. The entertainment was naturally a failure, and the shallow critics explained this by saying that the public was * ' unappreciative of high art," desiring only dancing of the violent, "vulgar" sort.
The so-called choruses of the present play are essentially ballets, full of action, entertaining in itself, but, it is hoped, much more highly pleasing because of the symbolism involved. The poses, which in every instance are cases of arrested motion, have the same character. Since the latter are reproductions of classic statues which are meaningless to many people because these do not possess sufficient imagination to conceive of the action with its underlying thought and emotion leading up to the pose presented, the play, it is hoped by the author, will be recognized by teachers to possess interpretative value in the field of art education.
Pictures of the statues referred to in the matter of poses are all to be found in Bulfinch's "Age of Fable," and most of them in Harper's "Classical Dictionary, ' ' not to speak of specific works on classi- cal art in the reference department of every well equipped public library.
THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
Persons of the Play
Principal Characters
Odysseus . . . King of Ithaca
telemachus . . . Son of Odysseus phemius ... A blind minstrel
penelope . . . Queen of Odysseus eurycleia . . . Nurse of Odysseus
eurynome . . . The house-mistress
Maidens of Penelope (the chorus)
|
ADRASTE |
Leader |
DAPHNE |
|
ALCANDRE |
DYMAS |
|
|
ALCIPPE |
EURYMEDUSA |
|
|
ARETE |
IANTHE |
|
|
CHLORIS |
PERSE |
|
|
CLYTIE |
PHYLO |
and others, since the number of the Chorus may be indefinitely extended.
In Pantomime
Athene, the goddess, as Iphthime, sister of Penelope.
morpheus, as precentor of Penelope's dream.
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THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
In Visions
odysseus
Companions of Odysseus
EURYLOCHUS POLITES
THE LOTUS EATERS
Polyphemus, the Cyclops. CIRCE, the enchantress. hermes, herald of the gods.
Souls in Hades teiresias, the Theban seer. anticleia, mother of Odysseus.
THE SIRENS
calypso, the goddess of the isle Ortygia. ino, a sea-nymph. nausicaa, princess of Phaeacia. alcinous, king of Phaeacia. Athene, patron goddess of Odysseus. argos, the old hound of Odysseus.
SAILORS, CYCLOPES, SPIRITS, MAIDENS, and COURTIERS.
PERSONS OF THE PLAY 5
SCENE
The outer court of the Palace of Odysseus in Ithaca, supposed to be on an elevation facing the sea. High steps lead up to the pillared porch of the palace. Be- tween the two central pillars are seen the open doors, leading to the central Banquet Hall. On the right of the porch is the entrance to the Chamber of Penelope. On the left of the porch is the entrance to the Armory. In the center of the court is an altar, which serves not only for worship of the gods, but also as a support for the actors in various statue-poses.
TIME
The evening of one day, and the morning of the next.
Argument
THE plot presented is the denouement of the Odyssey of Homer, the return of Odysseus to Ithaca after an absence of twenty years, the last ten of which he has spent in wandering homeward after the fall of Troy. He is supposed to be dead, and Penelope, his queen, is sought in marriage by a horde of princely suitors who fill her palace and waste her substance. She has thus far contrived to delay the choice of a husband forced on her, by weaving by day a shroud for old Laertes, Odysseus' father, who is still living, and unweaving it by night. This subterfuge is no longer available, and her decision must be made on the morrow. She appears on the scene, interrupt- ing the song of Phemius, the blind minstrel, telling of the " pitiful return of the Achaeans from Troy." Eurycleia, the old nurse of Odysseus, enters from the Banquet Hall, and the Maidens of Penelope from the side doors. They perform the choruses, "The Pass- age of the Banquet Hall," descriptive of the sottish- ness of the suitors, and "The Weaving," descriptive of Penelope's labors. Penelope dismisses her maidens, and beseeches the gods to give her assurance whether Odysseus be alive or dead. This they grant in the form of visions of him in his wanderings, the last visions showing him landed in the guise of a beggar on the shore of Ithaca.
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8 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
She awakens comforted and prepares for the home- coming of her lord. Taking Eurycleia, the old nurse of Odysseus, into her confidence, she bids her divert the maidens with ancient stories calculated to imbue them with patriotism, while she gets ready arms and armor for Odysseus. Led by Eurycleia, the maidens perform the chorus, "The Hunting of the Boar," in which is recounted a youthful exploit of Odysseus in which he came near to losing his life, being wounded by an infuriated boar. Eurycleia makes the story symbolic of the ravage of Ithaca by the suitors, and the coming rescue by Odysseus; and Penelope, return- ing, inspires the maidens with loyal zeal by showing them what part women can play in crises, such as the one approaching, by giving spiritual assistance to the men.
As their patriotic fervor is at its height, Telemachus enters from the Banquet Hall with Odysseus, who is disguised in a beggar's cloak. Penelope, instructed by the vision, recognizes him, and impulsively starts toward him with a cry on her lips, but, being res- trained by his look of warning, artfully applies her actions and words to Telemachus. The prince re- proves her, directing her to attend to the needs of the guest, whom he represents to be a companion of Odysseus. Odysseus refuses Penelope's attentions, but accepts those of Eurycleia, and departs with the old nurse to the queen's chamber.
Telemachus is brooding over some insult that has happened in the Banquet Hall, and, to lift up his spirit, Penelope orders her maidens to perform a choric dance representing the foot-race of Hippo-
ARGUMENT 9
menes and Atalanta, the part of the former being taken by Telemachus, and the part of the latter by one of the maidens. Telemachus applies the moral of the story, strife ending in love, as an omen of happy conclusion of present troubles, and dismisses the maidens. Alone with his mother he informs her of what she has already divined, that the guest is Odys- seus himself, as he had discovered by secretly observ- ing the stranger's actions.
He tells her that, disclosing himself to his father, they had entered the Banquet Hall to test the temper of the suitors, and were despitefully used, and that Odysseus was now resolved upon full and speedy vengeance with the bow.
Still awaiting Odysseus' return from the queen's chamber, Penelope summons her maidens and orders them to perform the Archer's Chorus, imitating the bowmen at Troy. Eurycleia enters in the midst of the dance, and bids it cease. She discloses that the stranger guest is Odysseus, discovered by her through the scar made in his youth by the wild boar's tusk. Odysseus enters clothed in armor, over which, how- ever, he wears the beggar's cloak. The maidens greet him, and in their name Eurycleia promises their spiritual assistance. Under her leadership they re- present in choric dance "The Origin of the Bow," which is a graphic narrative of the slaying of the Snake, the symbol of evil, by the Arrow, the symbol of Nemesis.
Odysseus relates the legend of Apollo slaying the Python in this connection, ending with the story of the establishment of the Pythian Games in commem-
10 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
oration of the deed. Telemachus and the Maidens enact in pantomime the athletic games, taking poses of various Greek statues. At the close they perform a chorus, "The Vengeance of the Bow," in which the slaying of Niobe's children by Apollo and Diana is represented, and the various poses of the "Niobe group' ' of sculptures are taken.
Odysseus and Telemachus approach the altar and invoke various gods for success in their coming battle. They then throw back the doors of the Ban- quet Hall, and, rushing within, engage in the Slaughter of the Suitors. Penelope, standing on the porch, describes the action to the maidens in the court below, who reflect it in their emotive movements and expressions.
The play ends with Phemius emerging on the porch and completing his opening pitiful song with a joyous ending; Odysseus and Telemachus reappearing vic- torious from the contest in the Banquet Hall; and the maidens in the court below waving palm branches in a Dance of Triumph.
Act I
The Despair of Penelope
Evening; there is a full moon.
Revelry of the suitors within the Banquet Hall. Through the open door of the Hall Phemius comes forward, and, standing on the porch, sings to the ac- companiment of his harp:
SONG
The Pitiful Return of the Acileans
"And his song was of the pitiful return of the Achaeans that Pallas Athene laid on them as they came back from Troy."
PHEMIUS
HO for the homeward bound, Aias! Already thine ears Catch in the joy of the sound Omen of welcoming cheers;
Ay, but ever thy folk
Greet thee, the godhead defied,
Hurling the lightning stroke, Layeth thee low in thy pride.
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12 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
Wo for thy coming home, Great Agamemnon, king!
Over the flying foam
Swiftly the white sails wing,
Bearing thee on to thy goal,
The Treason within thy gates —
Love in her eyes, in her soul
Death, by the doom of the Fates !
Oh for thy sweet return,
Dear Odysseus, lord! Heavy the hearts are that yearn,
Eyes are aweary that ward
"Now as the renowned minstrel was singing to the wooers . . . from her upper chamber the daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, caught the glorious strain and went down the high stairs from her room. . . . Then she fell a-weeping and spake" (appearing at top of palace steps at right, and breaking in upon the pitiful song) :
PENELOPE
Cruel, 0 Phemius, cruel and inhuman!
0 minstrel dear, the piteous strain give o'er. For never wo as this was laid on woman,
So mighty grows my longing evermore For his dear head, whose fame by friend and foeman
Is noised from windy Troy to Argos' shore.
Phemius withdraws to the Banquet Hall. Penelope descends the steps to the side of the altar and communes with herself:
THE DESPAIR OF PENELOPE 13
Ten weary years, my boy my sole defender, Have I, to balk the suitor train abhorred,
Matched with a woman's wile my spindle slender Against the rude enforcement of the sword.
Now fails my heart, and with a foe so tender I may not strive; I die without my lord.
Day-long there rises from my blood-stained valleys The bellowed terror of the boding steer;
And night-long in my lust-polluted palace The riot of the lords afflicts mine ear;
And, day and night enmeshed by their malice, I see the fatal hour of doom draw near.
A few more days, and not a kid remaineth To flesh the insatiate hunger of the steel;
A few more nights, and wasteful revel draineth The wine-jar last to lose the ancient seal;
Then, ere yon orb unto a crescent waneth, The rage of thwarted passion shall I feel.
But little then will serve this light deceiving, The fruitless labor of the barren loom,
The weary web, the weaving and unweaving; Yet courage, heart, Odysseus' craft assume;
Better to break a-work than waste a-grieving, Still with Laertes' shroud delay thy doom.
Then come, my maidens, softly, softly treading, Till safe beneath the stars ye fear no wrong;
Come bearing distaffs in your hands, and threading The flaxen twist, the while ye steal along;
14 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
And, for the guidance of my fancy, wedding The warp of woven steps and woof of song.
The Maidens of Penelope, bearing distaffs and strands of flax, enter right and left, in single files, moving to slow music. The right file is led by Eury- nome, the left by Adraste.
CHORUS The Passage op the Banquet Hall
eurynome
Hist!
ADRASTE
Hush, maidens all!
EURYNOME
Silence in chambers —
Eurycleia appears suddenly from the Banquet Hall in the center in great agitation.
EURYCLEIA
U;
Over the house of Odysseus, quiet. Heavy with wine, Weary with riot, Suitor and server
THE DESPAIR OF PENELOPE 15
Slumber like swine.
Wo for the blot on the palace's name!
At, di, the house 's shame !
MAIDENS
A'i, the shame!
EURYCLEIA
Like as a swallow,
Eaves-seeking, estrayed
The lintels within
Of shrined Apollo,
Stricken with dread,
Circles to win
Out of the hollow
Of dim, silent things
Unto the joy of the wide air's dominions;
Yet swift as her wings
Havenward hurtle,
Ay, ever she swings,
On terror-pulsed pinions
That pause not nor falter,
Backward in flight,
Her eyes quick dartle:
They see the gray altar: The bones gleam white Through garlands still green And half-charred embers; They see, and the sight No mortal has seen,
16 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
Or, seeing, remembers,
Since death is his doom —
They see by the light
Of the sun-flooded portal,
Self-shapen from gloom,
Beautiful, bright,
And towering in glory and grandeur and might,
The godhead immortal!
So I, in error
Birdlike, darting
The suitors among
Drunken in hall,
Backward in terror
A breathing space starting,
Forward flung
Swift through them all,
As senseless they slumbered like cattle in stall;
Yet brief as I lingered,
With anguish sharp
The shame and the wrong
Were graven deep
Into my soul:
There Phemius fingered,
Nerveless, his harp
As though in mid-song
O'ertaken by sleep;
Cheek to board, lip to bowl,
His locks deep stained
In the pooled gore
Of dark lees of wine,
Eurymachus lay like a victim supine.
THE DESPAIR OF PENELOPE 17
Then, ere I had gained
The farther door,
Lordly, divine,
Imperious, tall,
Antinoiis rose in the midst of the hall
From his seat on the throne;
And forth from his face
Clear cut as in stone,
His eyes' soft langour,
His lips' curling grace,
The deity shone,
For the finger of Fate sets its seal on its own;
And nameless anger,
And hope without name
Smote through my soul and thrilled through my
frame, Ai, ai, the house's shame!
MAIDENS
Ai, the shame.
Penelope, wringing her hands, walks away from the maidens to the side of the court.
EURYNOME
Cease for our queen's sake, Eurycleia dear, Thy raven croakings of the house's shame!
For these ring ever in her troubled ear And wake vain sorrow. Equally I blame
Thy cuckoo calls of spring in winter drear; Why weave within the meshes of her brain Strands of a baseless hope to be unwrought again ?
18 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
Our task is fairer, maidens, for we feign In endless windings, endless trickery
Whereby our lady's craft and cunning gain Respite from wrong, comforl in constancy,
And solace for the ever gnawing pain, The smoldering llame thai in her bosom burns Which will not die until our lord returns.
CHORUS The Weaving
STROPHE
(Eurynome and half of the maidens)
Weaving a-weaving, What arc ye weaving Maidens all?
ANTISTROPHE
(Adraste and the other maiden*)
Weaving a-weaving,
A shroud arc we weaving.
Shroud and a pall.
STROPHE
Weaving a-weaving,
Strange sliroud arc ye weaving
And lordly attire
In cloth of gold.
THE DESPAIR OF PENELOPE 1!)
ANTINTKorill.;
Yea, we are are weaving A shroud for the living, Odysseus' sire, The gardener old.
STROPHE
Weaving a-weaving, Why needeth the living ( l-arment so grim?
ANTISTROPHB
Weaving a-weaving,
For youth is he grieving; His senses grow dim.
STROPHE
But fair is the mourning And rich the adorning
To grieve for the past.
ANTISTROPHE
Ay, but to hoping
Through blindness and groping,
Day dawns at last.
STRUT! IK
No more he diseerneth The blooms that unfold,
20 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
And ever he yearneth For smell of the mold ; No more for him breaketh The sun-bright morn, No more he awaketh To scent of the thorn; What means this derision To age-clouded eyes — How shall to his vision Promise arise?
ANTI STROPHE
His eyes toward the even Age ever turns Where fair in the heaven Hesperus burns: Hesper the herald Who brings to their rest Sheep to the sheep-fold, Babe to the breast;* Who gives to the sightless Faith stronger than sight, Light to the lightless, Hope in the night; For Hesper will gather What Eos hath strown : The son to the father, The prince to his own!
►These four lines are a translation of a fragment of Sappho.
THE DESPAIR OF PENELOPE 21
EPODE
(All)
So we are weaving,
Weaving, a-weaving!
In mystical blending
An endless deceiving,
An endless believing,
A garment of guile and of hope never ending,
Weaving, a-weaving,
SONG
The Dead Gardener
chloris
Oh what shall we wreathe for a border fair
In the good old gardener's shroud: The blooms that blazon their beauty rare, Or the shy little blossoms that hardly dare
To lift up their heads in a crowd?
For the stately lily and queenly rose
He watered and trellised well, Yet he loved the tiniest flower that grows, And only the heel-trodden daisy knows
Where the dew of his tear-drop fell!
EPODE
(All)
Wreathing, a-wreathing, In fairest designing,
22 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
Ivy and helichryse wreathing and twining, Shape we the border In rhythmic order,
The golden bloom and the green leaves combin- ing; And, to and fro As we come and go, Here and there a flower we strow, The swarthy blossom of lettered wo, A'i, di, crying For Hyacinthus dying When it was stained with the purple flow That ebbed in gentle breathing Forth from his body rare. So let us form our wreathing, Our wreathing, our wreathing, Of somber blooms and fair!
During the Epode the Maidens lay aside their distaffs, and, taking ivy sprays and flowers from their bosoms, scatter these about the court and on the altar.
PENELOPE
Give o'er the dance Eurynome, give o'er The joyful dance my maidens all, for I,
Wearied with mighty yearning evermore, And fain, for lack of my dear lord, to die,
Love not its meshed measures as of yore.
Give o'er the dance, my maidens dear, the joyful dance give o'er.
THE DESPAIR OF PENELOPE 23
Lay by the distaffs, maidens all, lay by
The garlands gay and twists of yellow twine,
And cease the song of happy revelry, For very heavy is this heart of mine,
And all its music tuned to a sigh.
Lay by the distaffs, maidens all, the flaxen twine lay by.
While Penelope is speaking, the maidens, taking up their distaffs, retire, right and left, by pairs.
Come, maidens, tread the solemn dance divine,
In joyless measures suited to my wo. Let trailing wreaths of sacrifice be thine,
Swayed in soft cadence, sorrowful and slow, And hung devoted on Athene's shrine. Come, tread the dance, my maidens all, the solemn dance divine.
The maidens re-enter with long green sprays.
Bow, maidens, at Athene's shrine, bow low;
Before the mighty godhead bend the knee, And pray her in Odysseus' name to show
A token of her graciousness to me, ;That truly of my lord's dear life I know. Bow low before Athene's shrine, my maidens all, bow low.
PANTOMINE
The Invocation
At the close the maidens retire, two by two, right and left, leaving Penelope alone.
24 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
PENELOPE
Peace-bearing night, whose truce I trouble nightly, Bring rest from longing with the homing dove.
O Wind of Night, that landward lifteth lightly The flapping sail, O beacon star above
The low-hung mists of even burning brightly, Draw homeward to my heart the man I love!
0 Moon, that viewest in thy three-fold vision All things (hat in the heavens high are done,
On the broad earth, in darkling fields Elysian, To whom (he secrets of the searching sun
And subtle sea are bared, aid my decision; Bring me true tidings of my faithful one!
O Earth, and thou, Earth Mother, dear Demeter, Who for thy daughter troubled gods and men
Till Dis resigned, for her dark hiding sweeter, His stolen flowTer — oh, by that rapture when
Thou with glad day and greening earth did greet her, Give o'er my dear one to these arms again!
Kneeling before the altar.
Athene, child of Zeus, his aegis o'er thee, Girt with his wisdom, maiden weariless,
If ever thine Odysseus burnt before thee
His choicest kine, look on his queen's distress.
Unto her weary eyes grant, I implore thee, A vision of his loving faithfulness!
Sinks in slumber on steps at right of altar.
Interlude
The Visions of Penelope
Darkness. Morpheus enters on the left in ghostly attire. lie speaks :
VTOW the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, made a phantom, and fashioned it after the likeness of a woman, Iphthime, daughter of great-hearted Icarius, and she sent it to the house of divine Odysseus to bid Penelope amid her sorrow to cease from her weep- ing and lamentation. So the phantom. . . . stood above her head and spake unto her, saying:
Enter Iphthime. Pantomime between Iphthime and Penelope, as Morpheus continues :
"Sleepest thou, Penelope, stricken at heart? Take courage and be not so sorely afraid. For lo! such a friend as all men pray to stand by them, for that she hath the power, Pallas Athene pitieth thee in thy sorrow, and hath sent me forth to speak to thee."
Then wise Penelope made her answer as she si um- bered very softly at the gate of dreams:
' ' If thou art indeed a god, and hast heard the word of a god, come, I pray thee, and tell me tidings con- cerning that ill-fated man, whether perchance he is yet alive and sees the light of sun, or hath already died, and is a dweller in the house of Hades."
[25]
26 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
Ami the « 1 1 1 1 1 phantom answered her and Baid: ''Concerning him 1 will not tell thee all the tale, but thine own eyea Bhall behold many «>r the perils he hath passed^ striving to win ins own life and the return of ins company, and thine own ears shall hear him re count ins adventures.
lpJithimc OQStS iiict'nst- mi llw idhir, mid tu tht s»u>L<- ap/ifttr tltt'sc risions, irhicli <r/v drscriht'd nt tilt- worth of Ody880U8 by Mtn-pht'iis :
THE LOTUS EATERS
For nine whole days was 1 borne Prom Troy by nun on. winds over the teeming deep; i>ui on the tenth day
we set Pool fa the land of the loins enters, who eat a flowery food. So we stepped ashore, ;md si rais.'ht way
my company look their midday meal by the swift ships. And to ns came the kindly people o\' the land, bearing the Pruil <>\' the loins, which they offered as to eat. Fearing the strange \\hh\, Eurylochus, my captain, and 1 alone forbore to partake of it. And when the meal was ended, and I called upon the company to return io the ship and Pare forward to Hellas, oni\ Eurylochus arose with me, Por whosoever
doth ea1 i^' the honey sweet fruit <>f the lotus hath no other wish than to ahtde in that land with its kindly
ft. Ik, ever feeding ow the lotus and forgetting the home ward way. Therefore Eurylochus and l were eon
shamed lo pull them to their feet ami to hale them baofe to the ship with buffeting, for they went weep ins; and sore as.ainst their will.
THE VISIONS Ol*1 I'UNELOPE 27
THE OTOLOPS
Thence we sailed onward to the Land of the Cyclopes. a froward and a lawless folk. Bidding Eurylochus to remain on the ship with half the company, I waded ashore with the rest of* the com- rades, carrying with us two skins of* the wine of [lios as a drink' offering. Wandering along the strand we came upon a greal cave opening on the sea, with a sheepfold, walled by huge stones, before it. Entering
the Cavern we found therein baskets laden with cheeses, and kids and lambkins in pens waiting the return of their dams from the pastures. My company besought me to lake the cheeses and yean- lings and to sail away over the salt sea water.
llowheit I hearkened not (and Car better would it have been), but wailed to see the owner himself, and
whether he wonld give me gifts as a stranger's due.
A fire smoldered in the cave, and we mended it into a
blaze, and made :i burnt offering of a kid, where- of we did eat, and of the eheeses also. At dusk the
bleating Hock told us of the return of the shepherd,
and anon he filled flu; cave's mouth with his vast bulk, Cor he was a monstrous thing, and fashioned marvellously, since he had but a single eye, and that was placed in his forehead's center, beneath one
shaggy eyebrow that spanned his brow from ear to ear. He bare a grievous weight of dry wood against supper time, which he c;ist with a great din inside the cave. Amid (he clutter we fled in great fear to the dark recesses of (he cavern, but to none avail, for, after leading his flocks into tin? cave for the milking,
28 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
and closing the entrance with a vast doorstone, he replenished the fire, and by its light beheld us cower- ing.
" Strangers, who are ye?" he called. '.'On some trading enterprise, or at adventure do ye rove, even as sea-robbers over the brine? — for at hazard of their own lives thej^ wander, bringing bale to alien men."
So spake he, but as for us our hearts were broken for terror of the deep voice and monstrous shape ; yet despite all I answered: "Lo, we are Achaeans, driven out of our course by evil winds on our return from Troy, that great city which our mighty chief Agamemnon hath sacked, destroying many people. Blown hither by chance, we have come as suppliants to thee, the lord of the island, so that, mayhap, thou wilt give us the stranger's due. Have regard to the gods, I pray thee, for Zeus is the avenger of sup- pliants and sojourners."
So I spake beseechingly, but he answered grimly out of his pitiless heart : ' ' Thou art witless, stranger, or thou hast come from afar, who biddest me to fear the gods, for verily the Cyclopes are better men than they. Nor would I, to shun the enmity of Zeus, spare thee or thy company unless my spirit bade me. But tell me, where didst thou stay thy well-wrought ship on thy coming? Was it at the far end of the island, or hard by?"
And I, to save the company not yet in his clutches, answered with words of guile: "As for my ship, Poseidon, lord of the sea, brake it in pieces on the headland hard by, and it sank utterly, we being able to win the shore only with our dripping garments
THE VISIONS OF PENELOPE 29
and two skins of most precious wine, our share in the sack of the palace of Priam, king of Troy. This we beg you to accept as the due from strangers to the lord of the land."
But, either mindless of the gift (or, indeed, wotting not what wine might be), and no longer withheld by fear of vengeance at the hand of our comrades, he answered me not a word out of his pitiless heart, but sprang up and, laying his hands upon two of us, lifted them on high and dashed them, as they had been whelps, to the earth, so that their brains flowed forth on the ground. Then he made ready his supper. . . .
We wept and raised our hands to Zeus, beholding the cruel deeds, and were at our wits' end.
But, after the Cyclops had filled his huge maw with human flesh, I took counsel in my heart, and went f orward bearing a skin of wine, and said : ' ' Cyclops, take wine after thy feast of man's meat, that thou mayest know what manner of drink this is that we brought thee as an offering, if haply thou mightest take pity on us and send us on our way home. ' '
So he grasped the skin, and drank therefrom, slowly at first, but with growing delight at the sweet wine, so that he gulped it down in great draughts till not a drop remained. Then he asked for the second skin, saying: "Give it me again of thy grace, that I may grant thee a stranger's gift. The juice of the grape I know, for often do I eat the ripe clusters, but this is the gods' own nectar."
So I bare to him the second wine-skin, and he drained it also, and anon sank to the ground with nerveless limbs.
30 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
Seeing that the wine had got about the wits of the Cyclops, I spake to him with soft words: " Cyclops, thou askedst my renowned name, and I will declare it unto thee, and do thou grant me a stranger's gift as ithou hast promised. 'Neman' is my name — so all my fellows call me."
Straightway he answered me out of his pitiless heart : " ' Noman ' will I eat last of his fellows : that shall be thy gift."
Therewith he sank backwards and fell with face upturned, and sleep, that conquers all men, overcame him. Then I summoned my comrades, and we took the giant's club, and, hacking with our swords, shaped it to a point, which we put in the fire till it glowed terribly. Then my comrades seized the mighty club and, lifting it on end, thrust the burning point into the eye of the Cyclops, while I stood astride of his head and turned the club around as a ship's carpen- ter bores a beam with a drill.
And the Cyclops raised a great and terrible cry, and we fled back in fear while he plucked forth from his eye the hissing bloody brand, and cast it from him. Then he called with loud voice on his fellow Cyclopes, who dwelt about him in the sea-caves. Gathering round the cave door they asked what ailed him that he disturbed their slumbers.
"What hath so distressed thee, Polyphemus? Thy flocks are safe, and surely no man slayeth thee by force or craft. ' '
And strong Polyphemus spake to them again from out the cave: "My friends, Noman is slaying me by guile, nor at all by craft."
THE VISIONS OF PENELOPE 31
Then they laughed him to scorn as a witless man, and returned to their beds, and ray heart within me laughed also to see how my cunning had beguiled them.
But Polyphemus, groaning in pain, groped with his hands, and lifted away the stone from the door of the cave, and sat in the entry with arms outstretched to catch us if we went forth with the flock — so wit- less, methinks, did he hope to find me.
But I counseled my fellows to bind together the rams of the flock by threes, and bade each man cling to the middle one of the three, so that they should safely pass by the Cyclops. And thus we returned to the ship with many fat and goodly fleeced sheep.
CIRCE
Thence we sailed onward glad as men saved from death, albeit we had lost dear companions. And we came to the isle Aeaean, where dwelt Circe of the braided tresses, an awful goddess of mortal speech, who was a sorceress. Dividing my company into two bands, we chose by lot which should go to entreat the ruler of the land for the stranger's due, and which should stay by the ship. To Eurylochus it fell to lead his men to the palace. In the forest glades they found the halls of Circe builded of polished stone. And all around the palace wolves and lions were roaming, yet they did not set on my men, but lo, they ramped about them and fawned on them, wagging their long tails, for they were men who had been bewitched with un- canny drugs. But my companions were affrighted
32 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
when fchey saw the strange and terrible creatures. So they stood at the outer gate until they heard Circe singing within in a sweet voice as she fared to and fro before a great web, imperishable, full of grace and splendour. Wiled by her song, Polites called to her, and straightway she came forth and opened the shining doors and bade them in. Only Eurylochus tarried behind watching at the gate, for he guessed that I here was some treason. So Circe set Polites and the rest on high seats, and made them a mess of cheese and barley meal, and gave them in a great cup yellow honey and Pramnian wine, wherewith she secretly mixed harmful drugs. Now when they had all drunk o\' the cup, Circe smote them with a wand, and they were changed in form to swine, though their minds abode even as of old. So they wept when she penned them in styes and flung to them bitter acorns, and mast, and fruit of the cornel tree whereon swine do batten.
Now Eurylochus came back to the black ship a-wreep- ing with tidings of his fellows, and of their unseemly doom. And 1 cast about my shoulders my silver- studded sword, a great blade of bronze, and slung my bow about me, and bade him lead me again by the way he came. But, catching me with both hands and by my knees, he besought me not to go to my doom. "For well I know thou shalt thyself return no more, nor bring anyone of all our fellowship; nay, let us flee the swifter with those that be here, for even yet we may escape the evil day. "
But I answered him saying: "Eurylochus, abide for thy part by the black hollow ship; but I will go
THE VISIONS OF PENELOPE 33
forth, for a strong constraint is upon mo."
Willi that I went up from the Bea-shore. But lo, in my Paring through the Baored glades, Eermes, of the winged wand, met me, in the likeness <>r a young man with the first down <>n his lip, the time when youth is most gracious. So he clasped my hand, and hailed me: "Ah, hapless man, whither away all alone through the wolds, thou that knowest not this evil country? Thy company yonder is penned in the halls
Of Circe, in I lie guise of swine in filthy si raw abid- ing. Is il. in hope lo Tree I hem I hat I lion eomest .? Nay,
methinks thou shall, never return, but remain with the others. Come, (hen, I will bring deliverance. Lo, hike this herb of virtue — moly, the ^ro<ls call it, lor it is unknown to mortal eyes, growing in secret places.
If, will save thee from I he enchantment of Circe. "
Then Hermes departed to Olympus, and I came with high heart lo the house ol' the enchantress. J called aloud at the portals, and she presently came forth
and Wade me enter. So she Led me in, and set me on
a goodly Carven chair, with studs of silver. And she
made me a potion in a. golden cup that I might drink,
and she also put a charm therein in I he evil counsel of her heart. Now when she had given if me, and I had drunk if Off, she smote me with her wand and commanded me: "do thy way now to I he stye, couch thee there with the rest of thy company. M
So spake she, hut I drew my sharp sword from my thigh and sprang upon Circe as one eager to slay her.
But with a great cry she slipped under, and clasped my knees, and bewailing herself spake lo me wing6d words :
34 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
' ' Who art thou of the sons of men ? I marvel to see how thou nasi drunk of this charm and wast nowise subdued. Thou hast, methinks, a mind within thee that may not be enchanted. Verily thou art Odysseus, ready at need, whom he of the winded wand full oft hath told me was to come hither on his way from Troy in his swift black ship. Nay, come, put up thy sword and let us meet in love and trust."
So spake she, but 1 answered her, saying: "Nay, Circe, how canst thou bid me be gentle to thee, who hast turned my company into swine, and wouldsl have done so even to me? I will not let thee go, goddess, until thou hast sworn a mighty oath that thou wilt free my company, and plan nought else of mischief to our hurt."
So Circe swore by the awful Styx, the oath binding on the immortals, that she would do all even as I willed, and with wand in hand she passed with me through the hall, and opened the doors of the stye, and drove my companions forth in (he shape of swine. And she passed among them anointing them witli another charm. Then, waving her wand above them, she commanded that they resume their former state. And lo, from the limbs the bristles dropped away, and they became men again, younger than before they were, and goodlier to behold. And they all knew me again, and each one took my hands, and wistful was their lament, so that even the cruel goddess was moved with compassion.
So she entreated me and my companions kindly; yea, she even imparted to me a secret known only to the gods, that if I would come safely home I must
THE VISIONS OF PENELOPE 35
first pass through the dark halls of Hades and learn there from the shade of Teiresias, the blind sooth- sayer, the way and measure of my path over the teem- ing deep.
ODYSSEUS IN HADES
So our black ship came to the limits of the world, to the deep-flowing Oceanus, which washes the land of the Cimmerians, where never shines the sun, but al- ways deadly night is outspread over miserable mortals. There I found, as Circe had told me, the grim entrance to Hades. And when I had made supplication and poured a libation to the lordly races of the dead, and offered to Dis, the lord of Hades, a ram and a black ewe, the departed spirits gathered from out Erebus around the blood of the sacrifice. Brides and youths unwed, and old men of many and evil days there were, and men slain in battle with their bloody mail about them. And these many ghosts flocked about the trench with a wondrous cry, and pale fear gat hold on me. So I drew the sharp sword from my thigh, and sat there, suffering not the strengthless heads to draw nigh to the blood ere I had word of Teiresias. Anon came the soul of Theban Teiresias with a golden sceptre in his hand, and I suffered him to drink of the dark blood, after which he foretold the sufferings I was yet to endure. "Late shalt thou return in evil plight, with the loss of all thy company, on board the ship of strangers, and thou shalt find sorrows in thy house, even proud men that devour thy living, while they woo thy godlike wife. And even when thou hast slain the wooers in thy halls thou shalt not rest, but
36 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
must travel afar with an oar on thy shoulder till thou come to a country where men shall call it a winnow- ing fan, because they know naught of the sea. There fasten the oar into the earth, and sacrifice to thine enemy, Poseidon, lord of the sea, and he shall at last be pacified. And from the sea shall thine own death come, the gentlest death that may be, which shall end thee foredone with smooth old age, and thy folk shall dwell happily around thee."
Then the soul of my mother dead, Anticleia, whom I left alive when I departed for sacred Troy, drew nigh and drank the dark blood, whereupon she knew me, and bewailing herself spake to me winged words : "Dear child, how didst thou once come beneath the darkness, thou that art a living man? Art thou come hither in thy long wanderings from Troy, or hast thou reached Ithaca, and seen thy wife in thy halls?"
And I answered her and said : ' ' Not yet have I set foot on mine own country, but have been wandering evermore in affliction from the day that I went with goodly Agamemnon to Troy. But come, declare me: What doom overcame thee with death ? Was it a slow disease or did Artemis slay thee with her sudden shafts? And tell me of my father and son; doth my honour yet abide with them, or hath another already taken it, while they say that I shall come home no more? And tell me of my wedded wife, doth she abide with her son and keep all secure, or hath she already wedded the best of the Achaeans?"
And my lady mother answered-: "Yea, verily, she abideth with steadfast spirit in thy halls, and wearily for her the nights wane always, and the days, in shed-
THE VISIONS OF PENELOPE 37
ding of tears. And the fair honour that is thine no man hath taken; and Telemachus sits at peace on his demesne. But thy father abides in the field, sorrow- ing and nursing his mighty grief, for long desire of thy return, and old age withal comes heavy upon him. Yea, and even so did I perish. It was not the archer goddess who slew me, nor did any sickness come upon me; it was my sore longing for thee that reft me of life."
So spake she, and I would fain have embraced my mother dead. Thrice I sprang towards her, and was minded to embrace her; thrice she flitted from my hands as a shadow, or even as a dream, and grief waxed ever the sharper at my heart.
THE SIRENS
Then our good ship came to the island of the Sirens twain. And I stopped with wax the ears of all my men that they should not hear the beguiling song of these awful goddesses. But because I would listen to the sweet song that none other mortal had heard and not followed to his doom, I bade my company bind me, hand and foot, upright to the mast-head. And when they had done this, they sat down on the benches and smote the grey sea-water with their long oars. Then, when the ship was within the sound of a man's shout from the land, we fleeing lightly on our way, the Sirens espied the swift ship, and raised their clear- toned song:
"Hither, come hither, renowned Odysseus, great glory of the Achaeans, here stay thy barque, that thou
38 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
mayest listen to the voice of us twain. For none hath ever driven by this way in his black ship till he hath heard from our lips the voice sweet as the honey- comb, and hath had joy thereof and gone on his way the wiser. For lo, we know all things, all the travail that in wide Troy-land the Argives and Trojans bare by the gods' design, yea, and we know all that shall hereafter be on the fruitful earth."
So spake they uttering a sweet voice, and my heart was fain to listen, and I bade my company unbind me, nodding at them with a frown, but they bent to their oars and rowed on.
SCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS
We soon came to the fair islands where fed the goodly kine, broad of brow, of Helios Hyperion. And against my will, for Teiresias had warned me of the evils that should befall the deed, my men, being a hungered, slaughtered the sacred kine of the Sun-God. And he, who overseeth and overheareth all things, when we embarked sent a shrilling storm from the West, which snapped our mast and swept all our gear away. And the mast in falling all-to brake the skull of our pilot. Then Zeus thundered, and struck the ship with his bolt, so that it was filled with choking sulphur, whereat my company leaped into the sea. Like sea-gulls they were borne round the black ship upon the billows, and the god reft them of returning.
So I was left alone on the ship, since I only had taken no part in the slaughter of the sacred kine. And the tempest ceased, yet I joyed not thereat ; since in its stead a fair south wind sprang up which bore
THE VISIONS OF PENELOPE 39
me on toward the dread cliff of Scylla and the whirl- ing pool of Charybdis, feared of all mariners. Lean- ing mightily on the helm, I 'scaped the ragged rock, but only to find my ship sucked down into the circl- ing surge. But, ere it sank, I leaped on high and grasped a fig-tree growing on the cliff, whereto I clung like a bat until the broken hull was vomited forth again. And then I let myself drop down hands and feet, and plunged heavily in the midst of the shattered wreck. Grasping the keel timber, I climbed upon it, and rowed hard with my hands until I came safely out of the swirl of waters into the calm sea.
CALYPSO
Thence for nine days was I borne, and on the tenth night the gods brought me nigh to the isle of Or- tygia, where dwells Calypso of the braided tresses, an awful goddess of mortal speech, who took me in and entreated me kindly.
There dwelt I many days consuming my heart in longing for my home and native land, despite the lov- ing regard of the goddess who would have kept me forever as her consort, for she had the power to confer immortality on whom she would. And when at last she saw that my misery came not to on end, but grew ever greater until I was like to perish of grief, to me she came, as I sat on the strand gazing toward Ithaca over the wide sea, and spake winged words : "Lovest thou so thy Penelope? Truly indeed must she be worthy of thee, and I a goddess would be not a whit less great of soul than a mortal woman. Behold, I
40 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
grant thee <liy wish to get thee home l<> thine own dear country even in this hour.*'
So she gave me a great axe of bronze, double-edged, and she Led me where tall trees grew, alder and poplar, and Hi*' pine that reaohetb to heaven. And when I had tolled a score of the lordly lives, she gave me a polished adze, and augers, and I built me ;i raft with a mast, for which Calypso wove and shaped a sail. And the goddess placed on hoard a skin of dark wine
and a skin of dear wafer, and corn, loo, in a wallet.
And, instructing me hi the guidance of the stars, she
helped me with her divine hands to launch the great rail, and made a warm and gentle wind to Mow, which bOTC me forward on my way.
1NO
Now when 1 had come nigh the goodly land ^\' the
PhaeacianS, mine enemy divine, Poseidon, lord of the sea, saw me, as he returned from sojourning among
the blameless Ethiopians, ami was wroth at whatso- ever god had opposed his Cell purpose toward me. Grasping his trident, be roused all Storms Of nil man
ner of winds, and he shrouded in clouds I he land and sea. And a great wave smote upon my raft, so that I Lost the helm from my hand and was swept henealh the dark walers. Nor could 1 rise speedily from be- neath the rush of the mighty wave, for the garments
hung heavy which Calypso had given me. But at last 1 came up, Bpueing forth the bitter salt water, and Bprang forward in the dark wave after the raft, ami Clutched it, and sal in the midst (hereof, avoiding the issues of death. And the great wave swept the raft
TIIU VISIONS OV I'UNELOPE II
hither and thither along the si, renin, lor the storm had reft it of helm and mast and sail.
But the daughter <>r Cadmus marked me, [no, of the Pair ankles, who, though in time past a in;ii<l<'M of mortal speech, <li<l now in the depths of the salt sea get proper share in worship of the gods. Taking pity on me m my travail, she rose, like a sea gull on the wing, Prom i ho depth of the mere, and siii, upon the well hound raft, : i n < I Bpake, Baying: "Hapless one, wherefore is Poseidon, shaker of the earth, so wroth wil.h Mice? Yd, shall ho noi, make a Bull end of thee
Tor all his desire. Do even ;is I tell I lice. ( !;isl, oil" these garments, and leave Hie raft to drift before Un- winds, but do thou swim with thine hands .'md win a rooting on the coast of the Phaeaoians, whither it is decreed thou shall, escape. Mere, take this veil im- mortal and wind ii, about thy breast; so is there uo fear that thou perish. But when thou hast laid hold of the mainland with thy hands, Loose the veil Prom off thee, and oast it into the wine dark deep Par Prom the land, and thyself turn away."
Willi that the goddess gave the veil, mid dived haelc
into (ho heaving deep, like a sea-gull; and the dark
wave closed over her. And I, too, easling off my gar
ments and winding the veil about me, plunged into
the sea.
NAIINI(!AA
A great wave bore me to the rugged shore, ndown
whose rooks a brook Pell roaming into the sea. And
all my hones would have been broken had not Athene
put a thoughl into my heart. I sprang forward of
42 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
,the wave with all my strength, and grasped a rock, and clung thereto with hands and knees, till the surge beat a gainst my back, sorely crushing me, but not loosing my grasp. And, ere it returned, I clambered upon the rock and crawled to the green shore beyond.
And when my breath returned, I loosed from my bruised limbs the sodden veil of the sea-goddess, and hurled it with all the strength left in me far out upon the billow. And I turned ere it alighted, and fell upon the earth, and kissed it, the grain-giver, and gave thanks to the kindly goddess who had braved the wrath of her overlord and saved me from the sea.
Then, because I was naked, I dragged my weary limbs into a thick coppice near a pool in the brook, and I fell into slumber, long and deep.
Now Nausicaa, princess of that land, came with her maidens to (he pool to wasli the soiled linen of the palace. And, when they had cleansed all the stains, they spread the cloths on the green bank to dry, and fell to playing at ball in the fair meadow beyond. And the goddess Athene put it in the heart of the princess to throw the ball at one of her company, so that it fell into the pool where the current was pour- ing over the rocks into the sea. And all the maidens raised a piercing cry to see the end of their pleasure, so that I awoke. Glad was I to hear the sound of human voices, and, breaking a leafy bough from the thick wood, and holding it athwart my body to hide my nakedness, I stepped from the coppice fain to draw nigh to the fair-tressed maidens. But I was terrible in their eyes, being marred with the salt sea, and they fled cowering. And the daughter of
TPIE VISIONS OF PENELOPE 43
Aleinoiis alone stood firm, for Athene gave her courage of heart and took away all trembling from her limbs. So she halted and stood over against me.
And I thought within myself that it were better to stand apart and beseech her with smooth words lest the maiden should be angered with me if I touched her knees in supplication. So I spake a sweet and cun- ning word : ' ' I supplicate thee, 0 queen, whether thou art a goddess or a mortal! If thou art indeed of them that keep the wide heaven, to Artemis would I liken thee for beauty and stature and shapeliness; but if thou art of the daughters of earth, thrice blessed are thy father and lady mother and thy brethern. Sure- ly their souls glow with gladness each time they see thee entering the dance, so fair a flower of maidens! But he is of heart blessed beyond all others who shall prevail with gifts of wooing, and lead thee to his home. Yesterday I escaped after many perils from the wine- dark deep to this shore, where I know no man. Naked, and wounded sore by the waves, I beseech thee to give me a wrap from thy store of linen, and show me the way to the town where I may obtain succour. And may the gods grant thee all thy heart's desire: a noble husband and a home, and a mind at one with his — a good gift, for there is nothing nobler than when man and wife are of one mind in a house, a great joy to their friends, though their own hearts know it best."
Then Nausicaa of the white arms answered me, and said: "Stranger, forasmuch as thou seemest no evil man nor foolish — and it is Zeus that giveth or with- holdeth weal as he will — now that thou hast come to
44 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
our land, thou shalt not lack raiment, or aught else that is the due of a hapless suppliant. And I will show thee the town, and name the name of the people : the Phaeacians hold this city and land, and I am the daughter of Alcinoiis, great of heart, on whom all the might and welfare of the Phaeacians depend. ' '
Then she called to her maidens, and bade them fetch me raiment and olive-oil for the anointing of my bruises. And when they had brought them, I bade the maidens to stand apart, while I bathed in the pool and anointed my body with the oil, and put on the gar- ment. And Athene made me great and mighty to be- hold, causing from my head deep curling locks to flow like the hyacinth flower, so that, when I stepped forth among the maidens, the princess marvelled at me, and said to her maidens : ' ' Would that such an one might be called my husband, and that it might please him here to abide! But come, give the stranger meat and drink. ' '
And when I was refreshed, the princess brought me to the goodly house of her father, where I abode many days honoured as I had been a god who came in the guise of a stranger guest.
Day after day we spent in hunting the wild beasts and in many games, but ever did I turn my head to the splendour of the sun, being fain to hasten its set- ting. And when my longing to return to my native land became too strong to be overcome, Alcinoiis gave me lordly gifts, and sent me on my way to Ithaca in a tall ship with many rowers.
And Nausicaa, dowered with beauty by the gods, bade me farewell, saying sadly : ' ' When thou comest
THE VISIONS OF PENELOPE 45
into thine own country, noble Odysseus, bethink thee at times, I pray thee, of the maid who met thee kindly when thou earnest in thy need to the Phaeacian shore. ' ' And I answered her from the fullness of my heart : "Nausicaa, daughter of great-hearted Alcinoiis, if Zeus grant me to reach my home, there shall I worship thee as a goddess all my days forevermore, for thou has given me my life. ' '
THE LANDING OF ODYSSEUS AT ITHACA
There is in the land of Ithaca a certain haven of Phorcys. Now at the harbour's head is a long-leaved olive tree, and hard by is a pleasant cave and shadowy, sacred to the nymphs that are called the Naiads. Thither did the Phaeacian seamen let drive their ship ; and now the vessel in full course ran ashore, half her keel's length high. Howbeit, I was asleep. So they alighted from the benched ship upon the land, and first they lifted me from out the hollow ship, all as I was in a sheet of linen and the bright rug, and laid me yet heavy with slumber on the sand. And then they brought forth the goods which great-hearted Alcinoiis had given me on my homeward way, and set them in hiding within an olive copse a little aside from the strand lest some wayfaring man, before I awakened, should come and spoil them. Then the sea- men departed to fair Phaeacia with gently moving oars.
THE TRANSFORMATION OF ODYSSEUS
Then Athene came nigh me in the guise of a herds- man, a young man most delicate, such as are the
46 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
sons of kings. And she bad a well-wrought mantle that Eel] In two folds about her shoulders, and a jav- elin in her hand.
And she did (oiieh me sleeping with her spear, so thai 1 started up. And 1 sp:ike to the stranger winded words, vet did not utter (lie truth, hut wrested my Words Into guile. Well 1 WOt that I was in Ithaca, for
looking about I saw the eave and harbour, dear to my
boyhood. So I dissembled and said: " Friend, since fchou art the lirsl I have chanced on in this land, hail to thee! Tell me truly what land is this, what
men dwell therein?"
And the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, answered: "Thou art witless, stranger, or thou art come from afar, it" indeed thou askesf of this land; since the deeds of its prince Odysseus have made it lamed
even unto the Ear land of Troy."
And I was glad at the words of the herdsman, yet still dissembled. "Of Ithaca have I heard tell, even in broad Crete, whence J have been outlawed for slay- ing (though it was by sad mishap) the dear son of [domeneus, king of that country. 1 lied to a Phoeni- cian ship in the harbour about to sail for Carthage. Driven by a storm we landed on these strange shores, where we rested our worn bodies with sweet sleep. Fearing, perchance, that 1 was bringing on them the anger of the gods, they have stolen away while I remained in slumber, Look! then1 is their ship in th«> oiling!"
So 1 spake, and the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, smiled, and caressed me with her hand; and straight- way she changed to the semblance o\' a woman, fair
THE VISIONS OF PENELOPE 17
and tall. And uttering her voice she Bpake to me winged words:
"Crafty must be be who would outdo thee in all manner of guile, even if it were a pod encountered thee! So thou wast not even in thine own country to cease from thy sleights and knavish words, which thou lovest from the bottom <>i" thy heart! Yd, thou knew- est not me, Pallas A.thene, who am always by thee and guard thee in :ill thy adventures. And now I am conic hither to contrive a plot, with thee. For thou hast still to endure much sorrow, submitting thee to the
despite of men. In thine absence many powerful
lords sue for Hie hand of thy wil'e, saying Mini, thou
Jirt de;id. But she remains true to thee, and awaits
thy coming, deceiving Hie wooers with a guile worthy
of thee her lmsl>;ind. Come, let rne disguise thee, Hint none shall know I hee while I lion wailesf in the lint of
(faithful Eumaeus, the swineherd, until I summon to thine aid thy dear son Telemachus." Therewith Aihene touched me with her wand. My
fair flesh she withered on my supple limhs, and made Waste my yellow hair from off my head, and over all
my limhs she east the skin of .-in old man, and dimmed
my tWO eyes, erewhile so fair. And she changed my raiment to a vile wrap and a, doublet, torn garments rind filthy, stained Willi foul smoke. And over all
she clad me with the great ha Id hide of ,-i swiff stag, and she gave me a siaff and a mean tattered scrip, and a cord I herewith to hang it.
A RGOS Ami when I came to the Swineherd's hut, lo ! a
48 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
hound raised up his head from where he lay, and pricked his ears — Argos, the watch-dog which of old myself had bred. Now was his master gone and he lay out in the deep dung of mules and kine full of vermin. Yet even now when he saw me, standing by in the beggar's guise as I was, he wagged his tail and dropped both his ears, but nearer to me he had not the strength to draw.
I looked aside and wiped away a tear. But upon Argos came the fate of black death even in the hour that he beheld me, his dear master, again in the twentieth year.
Act II
The Slaughter of the Suitors
As the last vision is fading away Penelope starts up from her trance, and holds out her hands toward the place where Odysseus had appeared. , The morning light increases.
PENELOPE
ODYSSEUS, my lord, 'tis I — oh stay, Odysseus! — Penelope, who calls, Thy loving wife ! Oh, let us flee away
Together from the horror of these halls ! Ah, no, 'tis but another fantasy — Again the cruel gods are mocking me.
Again they mock — yet hold, my heart, be still !
Never before have all my broken dreams Been threaded through with his unfaltering will —
My lord's brave spirit! Vision true it seems, As if his soul had bended heaven and hell The tidings of his coming home to tell.
Oft have I seen him in my troubled sleep Upon the field of battle wounded sore,
Or sinking in the unfathomable deep, Or naked cast upon a desert shore,
Yet ne'er till now, wherever he might roam,
So plainly coming ever nearer home.
[49]
50 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
Home, home at last! yet oh, so worn and old!
So weary, worn and old, and piteous poor! My husband, let my loving arms enfold
Thy dear gray head, my toil-worn fingers cure Thy bruises, and thy tattered garments mend; My weak limbs walk with thine until the end.
For I would flee out of this troubled land To quiet shores; surely the gods will smile
To see us wander hand in loving hand, And lay aside their wrath a little while,
Granting to us, poor beggars twain, surcease
Of sorrow that we close our lives in peace.
Peace? nay, not such would my Odysseus crave;
Shame on my woman 's weakness ! Let the wife Be worthy of her husband, ne'er so brave
As in disaster; let me rule my life By his hereafter. Well his word I know: li Prepare ye for my hand my spear and bow."
Penelope claps her hands. Enter Eurynome and Eurycleia.
PENELOPE
To Eurynome:
Go, fetch my maidens.
EURYNOME
With their distaffs?
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 51
PENELOPE
Nay;
The time of spinning has forever passed ; Know that for me the inevitable day
Has dawned — the day to choose my lord — at last, Yet ill it is to yield without a fight; So bring the maids for mimic war bedight.
And do thou fetch with thee the mighty spear Odysseus left with me, when forth to Troy
He fared ; whose sight made all his f oemen fear Its wielder's prowess. Haply its employ
E 'en now with dread may chill the suitor throng.
Go, bid thy maidens raise the hunting song.
Exit Eurynome.
To Eurycleia: My duty calls me hence. I shall prepare,
Dear Eurycleia, for a fray more stern; Thou knowest well what labor is my care,
And with me wilt conspire. Till my return The maidens mocking battle to prolong, Summon thine ancient lore of tale and song.
Often, dear nurse, hast thou the story told How, ere I knew him, young Odysseus went
To see Autolycus, his grandsire old,
And with his uncles twain clomb the ascent
Of high Parnassus, hunting the wild boar
Within its brakes. Recount the tale once more.
Exit Penelope.
52 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
Enter Eurynome in the guise of a huntress, bear- ing the great spear of Odysseus, with Maidens, begirt for the chase, and equipped with lesser spears.
Eurynome gives the spear to Eurycleia.
CHORUS The Hunting of the Boar
EURYCLEIA
On the mountain side Overlooking the meadows, The cornlands fair, The peopled shore — The fields of his ravage — Where thick boughs hide His gray form in shadows, He maketh his lair: The robber hoar, The foe of the farmer, the mighty, the savage —
MAIDENS
Boar, the wild boar!
EURYCLEIA
In silence profound He keepeth his watch ; Like red coals gleaming His small eyes are; His prickt ears catch The distant sound;
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 53
He snuffeth the gale With scent of men streaming Up from the vale — The wild boar alert, ever ready for war!
MAIDENS
The boar, the boar; he is ready for war!
EURYCLEIA
Anon he descrieth Foes on his track! The boarhounds bay; Beaters are tramping Through thickets dense; A huntsman crieth
"Halloo!" while a whistle
Soundeth" Aback !"
The wild boar awaiteth the fray :
His white teeth are champing;
His muscles tense
Set all abristle
His ridged chine; With fierce rage of battle his red eyes shine.
MAIDENS
Beware, beware,
When the boar's teeth champ,
And his fierce eyes shine!
Take care, take care,
When you see, as a sign
54 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
Of his rage, the ridged bristles Arise on his spine!
EURYCLEIA
The dogs ring round The coppice dread ; To enter they fear — Afresh burn their olden Scars at the sight. Fierce challenge they sound. The beaters draw near With timorous tread And clubs forward holden Ready for flight, Awaiting a spearman to lead to the fight.
MAIDENS
Who cometh, who cometh With spear keen and bright, Faint hearts to embolden With courage to fight?
EURYCLEIA
A youth debonair!
Forward springing
The beaters' line through,
The hounds in loud cry
Aside he spurneth,
And faceth the wild boar's lair.
Backward flinging
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 55
His chlamys blue, He lifteth on high, Till bright in the sun the bronze point burneth, This spear, that I hardly can raise — Where is the man who can wield it In these degenerate days?
MAIDENS
Odysseus! him dost thou praise.
None other could wield
In forest or field
The weapon thou hardly canst raise.
EURYCLEIA
Stir in the bushes, A peal of ire! The wild boar emergeth Battle to wage — He knoweth his peer! Frothed are his tushes; His eyes flash fire; His whole body surgeth With war's fell rage. He rusheth upon the spear. What weapon shall stay The furious charge of a wild boar at bay?
MAIDENS
The wild boar at bay! What man without fear
50 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
To oppose will essay The fury that urgeth A boar to the fray ?
EURYCLEIA
Odysseus unfearing
Awaiteth the charge;
At the boar's side
He aimeth a blow ;
But slight is the wound,
For tough to the spearing
As a warrior's targe
Is the lean beast's hide,
And the boar, driving on at his foe,
Beareth him down to the ground.
MAIDENS
Ai, di, the maddening wound!
If the great spear fail
The hero brave
In the wild boar's rush,
What might shall avail,
What godhead save
From the fierce beast's tush
Odysseus borne to the ground?
EURYCLEIA
The raging boar In headlong career With sharp tusk rippeth
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 57
Odysseus' knee;
It breaketh no bone,
But the blood runneth free.
At sight of the gore
Aloud cry the huntsmen in fear.
Odysseus giveth no groan,
But only more tightly he grippeth
The haft of his great boar-spear.
MAIDENS
The man without fear! Though overthrown, Though wounded sore, He maketh no moan, But to his feet leapeth, And, grasping his spear, Again he awaiteth the boar.
EURYCLEIA
The wild beast, burning
With rage and pain,
His course sharply turning,
Rusheth amain
Again to the fight;
But ready his foe is;
Odysseus lungeth
With his full might;
His great spear he plungeth
Deep in the boar's head.
So piercing the blow is
58 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
It reacheth the brain,
And felleth the fierce beast dead.
MAIDENS
The boar f alleth dead
Transfixed by the spear!
Never again
Shall he ravage the plain,
Holding the farmers in fear.
Hail to the hero who banished their dread,
For deeds like this ever dear!
EURYCLEIA
Autolycus' sons
Run swift to his side;
Their garments tearing,
They staunch at once
The black blood's tide;
Then, in arms upbearing
The youth aswound,
Still to the spear clinging,
A chant they raise,
Handed down from the former days,
That healeth the huntsman's wound;
And home they bear him with singing.
MAIDENS
They bear along
The youth with song
The blood's dark flow congealing.
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 59
Oh, who shall sound For our country's wound The ancient chant of healing?
EURYCLEIA
In our fair land,
Ithaca old,
Since the lord of it,
Odysseus brave,
To the war departed,
The wild beasts raven
In fruitful field,
In teeming fold,
For lack of a hand
His spear to wield,
For want of a wit
His scepter to hold,
His realm to save —
Robbers, boar-hearted,
Insolent, craven
Since none their force may defy ;
Spoilers swine-souled,
Who make of our palace a sty.
MAIDENS
Ouai!
With hearts of boars
Our prayers they scorn ;
They trample all day
Our standing corn,
Since none there is to withstay;
GO THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
With souls of swine They enter our doors, And nightlong wallow in wine.
EURYCLEIA
With fields uprooted,
His land laid waste,
Our prince is shamed,
Telemachus young,
In brave heart royal,
Though maiden his sword.
In palace polluted
Our queen is disgraced —
Penelope famed
Where 'er praise is sung
Of wifehood loyal
To a lost lord.
With song alone to defend her,
In this her day of surrender,
Come, let us our solace afford.
MAIDENS
The comfort that women tender
May give, shall her maidens afford;
The help in our hearts we shall lend her
In the hour she chooseth her lord.
Mayhap our love
At last shall prove
A mighty shield to defend her,
Our song a sharp sword.
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 61
SONG* The Woman 's Kingdom
CHLORIS
When the age of the soul began God gave the eartli to man
To subdue it with strength and will According to His plan —
And the world is a man's world still: A sad world, a mad world — It never will be a glad world Till time the purpose fulfil.
To strengthen him in the strife God gave the man a wife
To do what he might ask, To center in him her life — This still is the woman's task: A drear lot, severe lot, And yet withal a dear lot Since Love wears Service' mask.
The land, the sea, the air To conquer is man's care
With plow and keel and plane; Small is the woman's share, The home is her domain: A mean rule, unseen rule, Yet here she may as queen rule O'er man in Spirit's reign.
*This may be omitted, if deemed too modern in tone. Its moral is that of the succeeding chorus.
62 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
With courage does she gird Her lord as with a sword ;
With helm of honor bright And shield of loyal word She arms him in her might : Though tearful and fearful At heart, with bearing cheerful She sends him forth to fight.
And when man's work is done, His war with nature won,
Then shall the woman shine Enthroned in the sun —
Her soul of faith the shrine: Her spirit inherit The rule of earth, to share it With man in Love divine!
Penelope enters in the guise of Artemis, and takes the spear of Odysseus from Eurycleia.
CHORUS
The Weapon of the Spirit
penelope
The soul of the spear
Is the soul of its bearer,
The warrior dread;
Its strength is his strength,
Its purpose his will;
His spirit shines clear
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 63
In radiant terror From bronze-pointed head; The ash-shafted length With his rage is a-thrill, The blood-lust of battle, the passion to kill.
MAIDENS
The spear, the spear ! Though dread it appear, 'Tis the spirit behind it That points it with fear.
PENELOPE
The long, level line Of spearmen surges Like a glittering wave Assaulting the strand; Resistless in might The keen points shine, And the foemen brave, Though his high heart urges Him stoutly to stand, Betakes him to flight, And bloodless the spear is borne back from the fight.
MAIDENS
The spear, the spear ! The weapon of fear, Returns from the quarrel With point gleaming clear.
64 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
The spear, the spear!
It is never so dear
As when, wreathed in laurel,
No blood doth appear.
PENELOPE
A weapon strong Is man that the Spirit Hath shaped to her hand; Thrilled are we through With her purpose as flame, The hosts of Wrong Know it and fear it; Will gives the command, Hers is the due, Yet Strength reaps the fame, Or, failing, he casts upon Spirit the blame.
MAIDENS
We welcome the blame; Be Spirit 's the shame If she point not the weapon The tyrant to tame.
PENELOPE
The spirit of man Is regnant in Woman; Her mind is its throne, Her heart is the shrine Of its sacred fire.
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS
65
The Soul of the Clan, She flies on the foeman Protecting her own — A vision divine And portent dire Courage to hearten and fear to inspire.
MAIDENS
We burn with the fire; The spear of his sire To Telemachus give; We his soul would inspire.
There is an uproar in the central hall, and Telemachus in princely attire enters, accompanied by Odysseus in the garb of a beggar. At the sight of the latter Penelope is dazed for a moment, and then, recalling the vision in which her husband appeared in the same guise, she starts forward as if to throw her- self at his feet, and cries:
My lord!
Odysseus frowns wamingly, and Penelope turns to Telemachus as if it were he whom she has addressed, and continues :
My son, for thou shalt take the place To-day of him who was my spirit 's prop, Whose soul e'en now is shining in thy face, Come, play thy father; take this weapon —
66 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
TELEMACHUS
in lordly manner:
Stop, Impetuous woman! though my time is near It has not come; give to our guest the spear,
For, worn with wandering he hath no staff, A warrior old, his hand is weaponless;
Penelope hands the spear to Odysseus.
He is athirst; the wine-cup let him quaff.
Penelope looks at Eurynome inquiringly, who shakes her head in a gesture of negation which Penelope sadly repeats to Telemachus.
Bring water, then, for sore is his distress, Water in ewer as well as cup, to lave His soiled feet. He was a comrade brave
Of great Odysseus, when the Trojan wall He breached with guile ; a fellow of his band
Of bold sea-rovers, who on Ilium's fall
Sought with stout hearts to win their native land
Against the purpose of Poseidon fell.
Refreshed, our guest the moving tale shall tell.
PENELOPE
Nay, son (if still with me some empire lies O'er woman's realm), I would thy charge amend:
Let him not bare his scars to curious eyes; A reverent hand his bruised feet shall tend
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 67
Within my chamber. As an honored guest, Yes, as my lord himself, there shall he rest.
Eurynome comes forward to conduct Odysseus to Penelope* s chamber. Penelope objects:
Not thine, housemistress, though for ready zeal We hold thee dear, shall be this sacred task.
She addresses Odysseus.
If thou wouldst deign to elder eyes reveal Thy limbs, let me —
Odysseus frowns in dissent at the idea of her per- forming the service, and she adroitly turns the reference.
— old Eurycleia ask Odysseus nods assent.
To do this service, once accounted sweet When eve brought bedward little dusty feet.
For when Odysseus ran a romping boy,
Or as a youth came wounded from the chase,
She was his nurse. Still she recounts with joy His features fair and lithe young body's grace;
For, though with creeping age her eyes are dim,
Her memory holds him clear in line and limb —
Ay, every mark upon his body white Of marring mole or ridged ruddy scar.
68 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
Wearied of life, she prays but for the sight Of her dear master coming from the war, That she once more may lave his feet, and kiss His ancient wounds, and so may die in bliss.
Go then, good Eurycleia, and attend
Our guest, as if he were indeed thy lord,
Mayhap the gods, who see us thus befriend The needy stranger, may their grace accord
That other hearts be softened to entreat
Our wanderer with charity as sweet.
Eurycleia conducts from the scene the limping Odysseus who pauses to hand the spear to Penelope, as the occasion of addressing her a few words inaudi- ble to all save herself. After his departure Penelope addresses the house-mistress:
And thou Eurynome, to cheer the heart
Of my shamed son, who for his mother's sake
Foregoes desire to play a prince's part
And lead his folk against their spoilers, take
Thy maidens fair, and a new dance array:
The Race of Atalanta let them play.
CHORUS
The Foot Race
eurynome
What slender youth His body bareth To enter the race,
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 69
The arduous toil
Of the circling track?
Strong is he, in sooth,
Though the aspect he weareth,
In beardless face,
In hairless breast,
In smooth-muscled back,
Still of a boy.
Telemachus advances, and throwing off his cloak, stands nude, save for his sandals and a loin-cloth. He assumes the pose of "Mercury Belvedere."
MAIDENS
Eia, iavoil
We hail with joy
And welcome warm
The runner whose form
Hath the strength of a man
And the grace of a boy —
Eia, iavoil
EURYNOME
To prepare for the task He taketh the flask That athletes aye bear, And with oil doth anoint Each muscle and joint With sedulous care; Then he kneadeth the skin Till the oil is rubbed in,
70 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
And his body gleameth
With the healthy glow
Of the blood's quickened flow,
Till a young god he seemeth
In beauty rare —
Hermes the fair,
The herald slender,
Swift in the race.
Telemachus takes from the folds of his cloaks an oil-flask and anoints his body, kneading it thereafter. At the close he assumes the pose of the brontfe Mercury in the Naples gallery.
MAIDENS
lo, to!
The athlete tender,
In form and in face
Lithe Hermes appeareth.
Immortal grace
As a nimbus he weareth;
Like to a god doth he show.
lol
EURYNOME
With strigil of steel,
Curved to fit
The muscles ' slope,
He scrapeth the oil
From each supple limb.
New strength doth he feel;
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 71
His face is alit With victory's hope; For the course's toil With purpose grim He testeth each thew.
MAIDENS
lo, eleleu!
Telemachus goes to his cloak, and replacing therein the oil-flask, takes from it a strigil, with which he scrapes his body, at the end assuming the pose of "The Athlete with the Strigil." Beplacing the strigil in the cloak, he then exercises the muscles of his limbs, breast, and back, ending with the pose of the "Farnese Hercules." He then practises the running stride, end- ing with the pose of the "Flying Mercury."
EURYNOME
Who is it advanceth
To vie with the youth
In the contest of speed?
From the cheek's brown tan
From the strength displayed
As forward she pranceth,
Ye would call her, in sooth,
A rival to heed,
Fit match for a man,
This muscled maid;
An athlete true!
72 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
Dymas hastens forward in a running stride, in the guise of Atalanta. Her robe is begirt for running. She assumes the pose of "Diana in the Vatican."
MAIDENS
lo, eleleu!
As the champion good
Of the hardihood
Of our sex doth she show
lo!
EURYNOME
Atalanta the swift,
Ever victorious!
What man will compete
With womanhood's pride?
Who dareth aspire
To conquer the maid ?
See Hippomenes smile,
Serene, unafraid,
Since the golden gift
Of Cypris glorious,
The apples sweet
Of fond desire,
In his hands he doth hide
The maiden to wile.
Telemachus takes from his cloak two golden apples which he holds in his hands.
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 73
MAIDENS
No fear doth he know, Trusting the while In the gift of Cypris The maid to beguile.
Bymas advances toward Telemachus. Both stand before the altar, and make obeisance to the goddess Artemis.
EURYNOME
Obeisance due
To Dian they make,
Patron divine
To both of them dear.
MAIDENS
lo, eleleu!
With Dian, we, too, No favor would show, lo! io I
The contestants advance to the starting line and stand side by side.
EURYNOME
Their places they take At the starting line, Nor heed they our cheer, To their purpose true.
74 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
Io, eleleu!
MAIDENS
EURYNOME
He is crouching to speed
At my word, but no heed
Taketh the may,
Her rival scorning;
Then One! for the warning,
Two, Three, and away!
MAIDENS
Io! oel
The contestants spring forward, Telemachus in the lead.
EURYNOME
Forward they spring ;
The man in the lead is
By a stride's length,
His impulse like
To the start of a swallow;
As a hawk taketh wing
Slower her speed is ;
She saveth her strength
Till the time to strike,
Yet close doth she follow;
Forth from the court do they fly.
During this recitation the runners disappear from the scene at the left of the stage.
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 75
MAIDENS
Oa, ouai!
We cannot descry
The course o'er the white sea sand.
Eurynome dear,
Climb the steps high
And picture to us the swift race.
From thee let us hear,
Let us see in thy face,
How the runners appear —
Still are they speeding apace?
Eurynome ascends the steps, and gazes after the runners. In the course of her following description she turns her gaze gradually from the left front of the stage around by the central front to the right.
EURYNOMK
Swift is the man, Hippomenes strong; With mighty stride On the maiden gaining, He forgeth ahead; She, as she began, Runneth along, In graceful glide Her strength restraining Till his shall have sped — The champion sly!
76 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
MAIDENS
Oa, ouai!
The maiden, disdaining
With confident pride
Her rival, is feigning :
Her strength doth she hide.
EURYNOME
Though strong yet in limb, Hippomenes tireth; His features drawn His failing breath show; But his purpose grim His heart anew fireth Ere its power hath gone, And, enduring the strain, Still on doth he go.
MAIDENS
Io!
When mind takes the rein
The body its master doth know.
EURYNOME
Atalanta fleet,
Hippomenes after,
As the stride he doth slack,
Forward is bounding
Like the lithe pard
With swiftness and grace
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 77
O'ertaking a deer. At the sound of her feet, Or her lips' low laughter, He glanceth back, Then, onward pounding, Though still breathing hard, He speedeth his pace, Running by will-power sheer.
MAIDENS
Eia! we cheer
The heart that ne'er faileth for fear.
EURYNOME
Now the man hath she passed,
The maiden swift,
With eyes on the goal;
But, upraising his hand,
Doth Hippomenes cast
A Paphian gift:
Gleaming an apple doth roll
Before her along the white strand,
Till aside from the course it doth lie.
MAIDENS
Oa, ouail
Fain would we the act understand: He letteth a fair apple fly Before her to bound on the sand; Eurynome, pray tell us why?
78 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
EURYNOME
The maiden observeth The tempting sight, And in her heart leapeth Desire uncontrolled. A quick turn making, Her stride she swerveth Toward the sphere bright; In her hand she upsweepeth The apple of gold, With joy the gift taking As a prize for her might, Before her by Artemis rolled.
MAIDENS
lau, iavoi!
She taketh with joy
As a gift from above
The apple of love
That too oft doth a maiden destroy.
EURYNOME
The apple hiding
Her girdle within,
To the course she returneth ;
Though far in the lead
Is Hippomenes striding,
Yet trust still to win
In her heart high burnetii ;
She reneweth her speed.
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 79
MAIDENS
Maiden, have heed!
Atalanta, take care!
The passion of greed
Is the high gods' gin
Wherein they ensnare
Souls that by pride have been led into sin.
Victory's meed
We wish now thy rival to wear.
EURYNOME
The maiden, urging
Her strength to the strain,
Her hot blood surging
Through every vein,
With quickening stride
In burst of speed
The man hath o 'er taken,
And side by side
They fight for the lead.
Now off he is shaken !
Once more
She forgeth her rival before.
The goal they draw nigh —
MAIDENS
Oa, ouai! In sorrow we cry, Hippomenes vanquished To victory nigh!
80 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
EURYNOME
Nay, get for him bays, Palm branches bring.
Adraste goes out.
Once more his hand doth he raise,
And hurleth, like stone from a sling,
In front of the maiden fleet
The apple of gold
That still he doth hold;
It boundeth along at her feet.
The contestants enter the scene from the right, Dymas running in front, with the apple bounding along by her side.
Again desire,
Passion impure,
Her heart doth fire,
The apple to catch
At her feet that doth roll.
The golden lure
She stoopeth to snatch —
And Hippomenes crosseth the goal!
The contestants take the position of Atalanta and Hippomenes in Poynter's painting of the race. In the meantime Adraste has returned with palm-leaves and laurels, which she distributes to the Maidens, Waving the palm leaves they cry :
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 81
MAIDENS
lo, evoi!
We shout in our joy,
Hippomenes winneth the race!
Yet we cry eleleu!
For our champion too —
Our sex hath not suffered disgrace,
So let both in the victory share.
With wreath of bay
His head we adorn,
And to Cypris we pray
That the apples, borne
In the bosom fair
Of the maiden chaste,
True Love shall inspire
Till Greed's desire
And the passion of Pride are effaced.
Telemachus and Dymas kneel before the altar, the latter placing the apples in her bosom. Eurynome crowns Telemachus with a wreath of laurel. The Maidens then in pantomime invoke Aphrodite.
SONG
Ode to Aphrodite
By Sappho
PERSE
Throned in splendor, immortal one, and mighty Daughter of Zeus, wile-weaving Aphrodite,
82 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
Let not thy wrath with terror's pangs affray me, Nor weariness o'erweigh me.
Come to me now, if ever in the olden Days thou didst hearken afar, and from the golden Halls of thy father come with all speeding Unto my pleading.
Down through mid aether from heaven's highest
regions, Yoking thy car, upborne by lovely legions Of fluttering sparrows, clouding with their pinions Earth's broad dominions,
Swiftly thou earnest, and, blessed one, with smiling Countenance immortal my heavy heart beguiling, Askedst the cause of my pitiful condition — Why my petition?
What most I craved in brain-bewildered yearning? Whom would I win, winsome in her spurning? "Who is the maiden, evilly requiting Fond love with slighting?
"She now who flies soon shall turn pursuing, Cold now to love, weary thee with wooing, Gifts that she spurned with other gifts reclaiming Unto her shaming."
Come thus again; from cruel care deliver; Of all that my heart wills graciously be giver — Greatest of gifts, thy loving self and tender To be my defender.
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 83
TELEMACHUS
For the heart-cheering dance, my mother dear, I thank thee. May it soon an omen prove
Of Ithaca redeemed, when song and cheer
Shall woes supplant, and strife shall end in love.
But now dismiss the maids for play more bold,
For with thee would I secret converse hold
On martial themes.
PENELOPE
Go then, Eurynome, And fit thy maidens for a sterner dance; The Battle of the Bowmen would we see; Let them as archers to the fray advance, Preparing us for contest grim and great That now I plainly see shall save the state.
Exit Eurynome and Maidens.
Now that none other may our secret share That in thine eyes already cries aloud,
The message of thy swelling heart declare To me, the gladdest of all mothers proud.
Joy conquers pain as when thy life began;
Again I cry, "I have brought forth a man!" Penelope hands the spear to Telemachus.
TELEMACHUS
In the early watch of yester night there came To me, as bound in slumber deep I lay,
84 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
Athene, in her battle-garb aflame,
And bade me instant rise, and take my way To the house of our good keeper of the swine, Eumaeus. I obeyed the dream divine,
And sought the hut with mingled hope and dread Which soon were tinged with sadness, for I found
Before the door old Argos lying dead,
My boyhood's playmate, Father's favorite hound,
Which ever mourned his absence. "Ah, at last,"
I sighed, ' ' for thee the days of grief are passed.
"Athene, let this prove an omen good,
That to myself and mother it portend My shamed state and her long widowhood
And our joint sorrow near a welcome end." With beating heart I softly tried the door And slipped within, and sank upon the floor,
And sat there breathless in the hovel's gloom Unnoted by the swineherd or his guest,
The wanderer here, who stood within the room And told the story of the wondrous quest
Of great Odysseus through many a land
To win his home in safety with his band,
Of which the stranger said he was the least, A common archer, who had lost his bow
In that great storm whose rage but late has ceased, Which all save him had hurled to depths below.
A well-wrought tale, yet its too perfect craft
Wrought such fond hope within me that I laughed,
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 85
And at the sound there turned to me — my sire! Mother, thou startest not!
PENELOPE
My clever son, Thy father's mind in thee I much admire
But thinkest thou thy heart could mine outrun? Nay, ere thou didst him in the hut divine, I knew his coming. Lo, of this the sign !
She holds up the spear.
For ready to his hand I brought this spear,
And with my hand its point I burnished bright;
And bade my maids with lances light appear To raise our spirits to heroic height
So that we might our cup of courage pour
Into my lord's full soul that it run o'er.
Then from the armory in stealth I brought Odysseus' mail, that, donned in youthful pride,
He wore what time my father's court he sought And wooed and won me as a willing bride —
Cuirass and greaves and helm, with cunning made
Of brass and gold — and in my chamber laid
The rich array, and burnished bright its sheen ;
With them I set his great bow, waxen well, And quiver of long arrows, true and keen,
And newly fledged for their mission fell. To none till now, save Eurycleia old, Leal and discreet, have I my purpose told.
86 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
TELEMACHUS
Athene, patron goddess of our line,
Hath surely granted thee her prescient grace,
Since all thine actions with the deep design Of wise Odysseus have run apace,
For he hath fixed his mind this very day
With bow and spear the suitor band to slay.
E'en now the temper of their souls we tried, And found them evil all, save Phemius blind.
Odysseus, with Eumaeus as his guide,
Came to the feast that he perchance might find
Pity that oft in rudest breasts hath room,
And so might save the kindly hearts from doom.
I went before, and, when within the hall
There limped the beggar by the swineherd led,
Braving the wrath my princely actions call From the proud suitors on my youthful head,
I prayed them grant the needy stranger's right,
And bade him beg from each a portion slight.
And, as from bench to bench Odysseus passed With humble mien among that evil crew,
Antinoiis at his head an ox-hoof cast,
Saying in jest, "There, stranger, take thy due."
Lightly Odysseus from it leaped aside,
And, "Thee I shall repay the first," replied;
Whereat with rage the hall grew clamorous; Above the din Eurymachus' voice I caught;
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 87
•'Despicable beggar, wouldst thou threaten us?
By whom wast thou to bait us hither brought1? — Telemachus ? ' ' "Nay, from his sire I come To taste the welcome men who stayed at home
"Give to the heroes who return from war," My sire replied: whereat the giant wode
Hurled at his head a mighty earthen jar,
Which burst against the wall. The red wine flowed
In pools upon the floor. ' ' A guilty sign,
Eurymachus; thy blood shall flow like wine."
Then to my father fs side I quickly flew ;
Odysseus upraised his godlike form To its full height, and back the suitors drew
Behind the benches, whence they sent a storm Of bones and joints, with wine-jars in their train; i ' You shower on us meat and drink like rain, ' '
Odysseus cried, "and, in your courtesy
Your places at the table giving o'er, Would burden us with hospitality;
Such generous hosts I have not met before. Prince, let us hence, that we may counsel take For this great kindness fit return to make."
So from the Banquet Hall into this court We backward drew with faces to the foe
Resolved to repay their savage sport With mortal vengeance of the spear and bow.
So let thy maids in martial rank advance
To spur my spirit with the bowman 's dance.
88 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
Penelope claps her hands. Enter Eurynome and Maidens, the former bearing a lance with a red pennon, and the latter small bows and dainty quivers filled with little arrows. The Maidens are in boyish costume.
CHORUS
The Archers
eurynome
Warriors maiden In mimic marches We move to the battle With shout of joy.
MAIDENS
Evoi! evoi!
EURYNOME
Our hands are laden With tiny arches; Our gay quivers rattle With arrows toy.
MAIDENS
Evoi! evoi!
The weapons men bear With labor and care In sport we employ.
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 89
EURYNOME
As children enhancing Life's vigor with play, With shouting and dancing, In battle array Retreating, advancing, We figure the fray Of our archers at Troy.
MAIDENS
Evoi! evoi!
Let us mock the fierce fray
Of the bowmen at Troy,
Awaiting the day
When the world shall be mended,
And men, their strife ended,
Shall join with the children in play.
Evoi!
Enter Earycleia.
EURYCLEIA
Eurynome, I bid thee cease the dance.
She addresses Penelope.
By higher power than thine, my mistress dear, I charge thee stop this play, Let the light lance
Vail its bright pennon to the mighty spear, The girlish arch to warrior's bow give place; Know, maidens, I have seen him, face to face!
90 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
By emotive gestures and ejaculations Eurynome and the Maidens express questioning wonder, and Penelope and Telemachus similarly show consternation at what may be a premature disclosure of the return of Odysseus. Eurycleia addresses mother and son:
Well wot ye whom I mean. When I disclose To all these eager ears the secret sweet
Which close you guard against our crafty foes, Fear not; I know the maidens are discreet
Nor will betray the tidings of great joy
I bring. Know that the man returned from Troy —
Is even Odysseus, our beloved lord !
Eurynome and the Maidens silently express in emotive gestures and expression their joy at the reve- lation, mingled, however, with incredulity.
Upon his knee I have beheld the scar Made by the wild boar's tusk, so deeply gored
In his young flesh that it remains to mar His manly form which else were blemishless — A blot that once I mourned, but now I bless.
Again my master's limbs I have arrayed In armor of his youth, whose princely sheen
Gleams bright as when he donned it first, the maid Of Sparta's court to woo and win as queen,
Penelope, then fair as Helen famed —
For virtue now above all women named.
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 91
Within his hand I placed the mighty bow Which to his yearning youth a traveller gave
In pledge of common spirit. Long ago The giver met his doom — Iphitus brave,
Whom Heracles his host in envy slew
For deeds that he had done and yet might do.
And so Odysseus, when he went to Troy, Laid by the weapon as a sacred thing,
Memorial of sadness mixt with joy —
That deathless love which death alone can bring —
And on his back I girt with leathern thong
A quiver full of arrows, keen and long.
Then over all his beggar's cloak I threw —
The shining mail, the arrows winged with death — Lo, here he comes.
Enter Odysseus, still enveloped in the beggar's cloak.
Hail him, ye maidens true, But only with glad eyes and bated breath, Dear lord, we bend obedient to thy will Like bows that with the archer's purpose thrill.
All bow before Odysseus who takes his place in the center upon the steps with Penelope and Telemachus on either side.
ky, and as weapons tried and true impart Sense of sure mastery to the wielding hand,
92 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
We shall return the impulse to thy heart,
And guide thine arm to do thy will's command. Dip, then, thy shafts in venom of our hate, And each shall fly to its doomed target straight.
CHORUS
The Origin of the Bow
eurycleia
Hermes, lover
Of wastrels winning,
Scamps big and little,
Patron smiling
Of cunning and craft,
To us discover
The bow's beginning,
What herd-boy with whittle
His idlesse whiling
First formed arch and shaft.
MAIDENS
What godhead, man ever beguiling, Looked down on the mischief and laughed.
1 EURYCLEIA
Of a fir bough he formed The supple arch; A reed of the mere The arrow afforded; Cedar bark did he twist For the cord of his bow.
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 93
That men with it armed To battle would march Against the dread spear Unshielded, unsworded, The boy never wist, E'en the gods did not know.
MAIDENS
To the engine of war
That strikes from afar,
By Hermes designed,
Only contempt was accorded.
By none save him,
Not Ares grim
Nor Athene the wise,
Was the war-bow divined
That out of the plaything should rise
Till over all weapons it lorded.
EURYCLEIA
Long as a child
Its kindred among,
The war-spear bright
And lance arm-flung,
The bow remained.
By death undefiled,
By blood unstained,
For play alone was it strung.
Yet the play was to fight,
To conquer, to kill! —
94 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
The passion of man, old and young, For power is ever his will.
MAIDENS
To slay, to spill
Blood, to destroy
Life, is man's joy.
His pastime still
As it was when a boy,
And shall be until
The spirit of woman
His heart shall illumine
And drive from its lair
The beast that lurks there,
And render our race wholly human.
EURYCLEIA
The small bird singing On the bough swinging, The lizard sunning His length on the wall; These were the lad's quarry, Now crouching, now running Creeping and gliding Through grasses tall His movements hiding, He made his foray.
MAIDENS
Let us mimic in dance The childish play:
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 95
The stealthy advance
Of the boy with the bow
And blunt-headed arrow
Stalking his prey
That feared not the foe —
The lizard lithe and the sparrow.
EURYCLEIA
From the dart weakly sped,
The quick lizard glided
A cranny within.
Away the bird flew
And, singing, derided
The weapon new.
The boy hung his head;
Deep was his chagrin
That the pert sparrow laughed
In scorn at the craft
On which himself he had prided.
MAIDENS
Boy-like, the blame
He casts for the shame
On the bow in whose strength he confided.
EURYCLEIA
With head elate
And forkt tongue hissing
Inveterate hate
At our heeled race,
96 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
A coiled snake,
In the roadside dust
Invited attack.
With fear aquake
The boy drew back
A stride's short space;
Then into his heart
Came courage, new trust
In his weapon's strength;
And, fitting a dart,
He drew to its length
The bow, and shot without missing!
MAIDENS
Willi clubbed bow
He kills the stunned foe,
And home bears the coil
As a warrior's spoil
To his mother dear,
Who shudders in fear,
Yet still rewards him with kissing.
EURYCLEIA
What deity dread The daring deed Of the lad inspired? What godhead fired With courage his heart, His weak arm nerving To send unswerving The feeble dart
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 97
At the serpent's head?
From his seat of splendor
The god of the sun,
Hyperion,
Of man defender,
Looked down and took heed.
He saw within
The heart of the boy
Man's spirit defending
With primal joy
The Race from its foe,
The. serpent's seed,
The symbol of Sin —
A contest portending,
The struggle with Wrong;
And to the lad lending
The will to win,
His arm he made strong.
MAIDENS
Apollo, the glorious
Spirit of light,
Sent him victorious
Home from the fight,
Presaging the triumph of Right.
ODYSSEUS
Thanks, Eurycleia, for the simple tale
That thou wast wont to tell me when, a boy,
I leaned against thy knee, and grew, now pale
When hissed the serpent, and now flushed with joy
98 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
When he lay writhing. Proud was I to know A boy like me had made the primal bow.
But late I heard the legend in new guise Perhaps more pleasing to a maiden's mind,
For to romance the girlish fancy flies
When childhood's wonderland is left behind;
Her heart is by a hero never won
If he come not in splendor of the sun.
While in Alcinoiis' court I was a guest
Thither there came a wandering minstrel. Young
And godlike fair he was, with youthful zest For bold adventure. Enviously he sung
Heroic deeds, to which his soul inclined
Alas! in vain — the gods had made him blind.
With meaner envy was my bosom stirred,
With jealousy I own it to my shame, For all had hung upon my slightest word —
Matron and maiden — ere the minstrel came To win them from me with his magic song. From morn till eve about me would they throng
To hear such stories as a warrior rude, A plain, sea-faring man, could baldly tell
Of his adventures strange by field and flood, True tales, pardie, since all do know full well
Marvels a many must the sailor meet:
Harpies with women's breasts and taloned feet,
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 99
Gorgons whom hissing serpents serve for hair, Witches whose potions make of man a beast,
Fish-tailed sirens that with song ensnare
The passing seamen on whose flesh they feast,
Grim giants, grislier made by one lone eye:
Wonders too great for the enlarging lie.
But he, this boyish bard they call "the Blind," Made all these marvels seem but fancies fond
Matched with the wondrous visions in his mind ; His soul's eye pierced into the world beyond
The senses' ken, and, daring, did he tell
Secrets of highest heaven and deepest hell.
The gods, I think, for this presumption bold Blasted his body's sight, since even they
The prescience of the soul may not withhold ; So to appease their wrath he made essay
By flattering them most grossly in his song,
Doing in this to mortals grievous wrong.
Athene, bear me witness that whate 'er
Of craft and courage lies within my heart
To impute to thee has ever been my care; Yet in my deeds I claim the doer's part.
But to the gods the fawning poet tribe
Both mortal act and impulse must ascribe.
Myself and all my fellow warriors brave
This cozening bard with seeming praise maligned,
Since the whole credit for our deeds he gave To gods unseen save by his subtle mind.
100 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
'Twas they who aimed the Achaean hero's blow, And snatched the Trojan coward from the foe.
So, too, the nameless heroes of our race
Whose thought and toil its ancient triumphs won,
With gods and demigods he did replace: Prometheus stole fire from the sun;
Bacchus taught men with wine their thirst to slake;
Apollo with the bow first quelled the snake.
This deed of Phoebus that the poet sang
Had that uncanny charm the serpent wields;
The women, thrilled with the ecstatic pang Of terror which the sense of danger yields,
Would flee like birds, then flutter back again.
Would you, too, taste the sweetness of its pain?
MAIDENS
We fear, yet are fain
The legend to hear
Of the foe of our race,
The serpent, slain
By Phoebus Apollo,
To maidens dear
For beauty and grace.
Like the cliff swallow
Who findeth a snake
Coiled in her nest 's hollow
Our hearts are aquake;
We tremble, and yet we would follow
Each movement the Python may make.
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 101
RECITATION
The Slaying of the Python
From Ovid
ODYSSEUS
When passed the Age of Gold, that knew not gold Save in the flowery mintage of the mead,
The honey dripping from the oak-tree old,
The grain that ripened from the self-sown seed;
After the Age of Silver, too, had flown,
When gains were reckoned in earth's fruits alone;
There came the Ages of the metals base,
Gross Brass and grosser Iron, which men wrought
To war's fell use, and evil grew apace;
For land and goods brother with brother fought,
And all the earth was drenched with blood and tears,
So that the high gods fled to kindlier spheres.
Then Zeus was wroth, and in his righteous ire He sent a flood to drown the evil brood;
All were o'erwhelmed, save him, our race's sire, Deucalion just, and Pyrrha, mother good,
Who dwelt alone upon Parnassus' height.
Then, when on earth the sun again shone bright,
Its god Apollo downward cast his eyes,
And saw, engendered from the noisome slime,
A spawn of horrid crawling monsters rise, Incarnate forms of every sin and crime
102 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
That had possessed the word ere it was drowned; Chief of them all, that King of Evil crowned,
The serpent Python, enemy of man.
Lifting his head against the race redeemed, Ay, against Zeus, his foe since time began,
His eyes with hideous fascination gleamed, Drawing to their destruction with strange lure The folk created by our parents pure.
Uprose great Phoebus ; with one foot advanced He grasped his bow, and hailed his arrows keen
Upon the snake. Within the sun they glanced Like beams that through the rifted clouds are seen;
Smiting the Foe of Man in his flat head,
Through every coil, they laid the monster dead.
While Odysseus is describing the killing of the Python, Telemachus instinctively steps forward to the center of the stage, and takes the pose of the " Apollo Belvedere,*' the while the Maidens by emotive gestures express the fascination of horror, terminated by the relief of joy.
So, in memorial of the mighty deed The Pythian festival the god ordained,
The contests keen of manly strength and speed
That the Hellenic youths have since maintained —
The bloodless strife which links the hearts of men
In love, to bring the Golden Age again.
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 103
PANTOMIME The Pythian Games
The Maidens enact the Pythian Games, Telemachus taking various athletic poses of Greek statuary, such as the "Discus Thrower."
ODYSSEUS
Forbear the games; the archer's dance resume;
One contest lies before us, ere in joy We celebrate the evil Python's doom.
Nemesis' symbol once again employ: The far-flung arrow hurtling on the foe. Maidens, enact the Vengeance of the Bow.
Eurynome and the Maidens take up their bows and arrows, and in pantomime illustrate the action de- scribed by Odysseus (who bears the great bow) in his following narrative, and express the emotions aroused thereby. In particular they assume the poses of the Niobe group of sculptures.
For well I know within my mind and soul The day has come when our fell foes shall fall;
Smitten by Fate, down in the dust shall roll Antinoiis fair, Eurymachus, yea all
The suitors proud, presumptuous in their sin —
The gates of Hades yawn to let them in
104 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
In bloody shoals. So come, my tale attend, And learn from it that Nemesis ne'er nods:
The story of the Theban queen's sad end,
Slain mid her sons and daughters by the gods,
Latona's twins, for her unholy pride.
Listen how Niobe and her children died.
RECITATION
The Fate of Niobe From Meleager and Ovid
ODYSSEUS
It was upon the Phoebean Festival,
When all the Theban folk together came,
Each brow bedecked with leafy coronal,
Each hand fulfilled with incense for the flame
Upon the altar of the Heavenly Twins,
To pray for purging of the people's sins,
That Niobe, their beauteous mother queen, Proud of her stalwart sons and daughters fair,
Cried to the crowd: "What folly this, unseen Beings to worship, when in beauty rare,
Ay, greater than in sun and moon doth shine,
My children stand before you. Pay divine
" Honors to me then, who the brood did bear;
Sevenfold am I the goddess Leto is, For she is mother to a single pair
And fourteen perfect children crown my bliss;
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 105
If I of some by Fortune be bereft Greater than Leto shall I still be left.''
And so the silly folk enwreathed with bays Her children, and to them the incense burned,
And sang the hymn prepared for Leto's praise To Niobe as better by her earned,
Latona, thus in sight of mortals shamed,
And of the gods, with anger was inflamed,
And, calling her children from their seats afar,
Apollo, dazzling as his orb at noon, Dian, whose beauty pales the evening star,
She said, "I, who brought forth the Sun and Moon, Am flouted by a mortal mother. Go, Visit her with the vengeance of the bow."
Down through the air the heavenly archers sped, And on the Theban towers took their place.
Before the gates a broad champaign there spread Whereon the city's youth with skill and grace
Pursued their sports, the chiefest of the throng
Niobe 's princely sons. Urging along
His foaming steeds, Ismenos, eldest born, With mastering art his gilded chariot drave;
Him the first arrow struck. With cry forlorn From out the car he fell, yet still he clave
Unto the reins. The steeds with maddened bound
His lifeless body dragged along the ground.
106 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
His brother, then, as strong and fair of form, The next in birth, hearing the bow-twang loud,
As when a boatman sees the gathering storm, And all his sails to make the port doth crowd,
Gave his steeds rein the winged death to escape.
Him the next arrow on his neck's fair nape
Struck and felled prone. Two sons (but lads they were)
Wrestled upon the green with limbs locked fast; One arrow pierced them through their bodies fair;
One cry they gave, together breathed their last. Two elder brothers, hastening to their side, By arrows twain o'ertaken fell and died.
Remained of all the brothers one alone;
Lifting his supplicating hands to heaven, Witless whose hand the deadly shafts had thrown,
1 1 Spare me, ye gods ! ' ' he cried. Last of the seven, Him Phoebus would have saved, but ah, the dart Had left the bow; it pierced him to the heart.
The other youths fled to the town aghast And to the queen the woful tidings told.
Forth to the field came Niobe running fast, And when she saw her dear sons' corses cold
She knelt and kissed them o 'er and o 'er again.
And yet her spirit, proud for all her pain,
Defiance breathed against the goddess high
Who well she wist had wrought the bloody deed. "Gloat, cruel Latona, o'er mine agony,
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 107
And full your rage upon mine anguish feed, But yet recall, when to their graves I follow My seven sons, thou hast but thine Apollo
"And Artemis, while seven daughters still Remain of the fair children that I bore.
Lo, here they come. Exult, then, an thou will, Richer am I than thou, my conqueror ! ' '
Boldly she spoke, for her excess of grief
In her old wont of boasting found relief.
Then, as the sisters ran with piteous cries Upon the field, and bent with woful mien
Over their brothers dead, down from the skies There rained another storm of arrows keen,
Which slew the mourning maidens where they stood,
Mingling their own with their dear brothers ' blood.
One girl sank on the corse which she bewailed;
One died, her mother seeking to console; One turned to flee, and was by death assailed;
One hid in vain beneath her ample stole; A fifth faced shuddering the coming blow; A sixth in utter terror crouched low;
The last the mother sheltered with her form, "Spare me but one, my j^oungest," Niobe cried;
But even as she spake the heart-blood warm Gushed o'er her bosom from the daughter's side.
Then stirless, speechless, with her dead alone
She stood, till grief transformed her into stone. * * ' * * *
A time there was for dancing; it has passed.
108 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
A time for ancient legends; it is gone. The hour for action stern has struck at last;
The day of duty now is at its dawn. Come, son, and learn with me what mighty odds They have who fight with favor of the gods.
Odysseus and Telemachus descend the steps of the palace, and stand in an attitude of worship before the altar.
INVOCATION
The Prayer to the Gods
odysseus
Apollo, first I pay thee honors due;
Long have I felt thine enmity divine, And to the end my error shall I rue,
My comrades ' slaughter of thy sacred kine. I know thou wilt forgive the old offence And grant me power to prove my penitence,
For on a mission like thine own we go To slay the Python in our halls that lies;
And so to thee I dedicate my bow;
Grant that it prove a pleasing sacrifice.
To thee this quiver, gracious Artemis,
Its darts, like thine, devote to Nemesis.
Poseidon, take for thine this toil-worn frame, For oft hath it been wreckage of the sea;
Granting it power first to cleanse the shame That blots my palace — then I give it thee,
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 109
And I shall go beyond the Ocean's end To do thy bidding, and my sin amend.
Athene, patron dear, my mind and heart To thee devoted were in days of old;
Grant me no favors; I shall play my part; But to my son lend thou thy spirit bold,
Thy wisdom great. Let his be honor higher
Than mine — the son be hailed above the sire.
Odysseus and Telemachus ascend the steps. They embrace Penelope. Odysseus suddenly kicks and thrusts open the valved door leading into the Banquet flail, and then, throwing off his cloak and drawing his bow, followed by Telemachus pointing forward his spear, he rushes within. During the ensuing scene a great tumult arises, with mingled shouts of anger, contempt and dismay. Penelope, standing on the steps and looking through the doors, reports to the Maidens the scene within the Banquet Hall, the Maidens ex- pressing in pantomime their emotions.
CHORUS
The Slaughter of the Suitors penelope
In shining mail
That his cloak had concealed,
Our lord standeth grim,
A god in seeming,
Apollo divine!
110 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
The suitors quail; At their foe revealed; Their senses swim; Each stareth, as dreaming, O'ercome with wine.
MAIDENS
lo, eleleu!
On the startled view
Of the suitors supine,
Odysseus, gleaming
In armor, doth shine.
A deity dread are they deeming
The man whom as beggar they knew.
Eleleu!
PENELOPE
Antinoiis tall
To his lips hath uplift
A brimming chalice,
Twy-eared, of gold
Richly enwrought.
He doth not recall
His fateful gift
To the beggar in malice,
Nor the answer bold —
Far from his thought
Is death, I trow.
MAIDENS
E'ia, to!
The hoof of horn
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 111
Hurled in scorn, Our lord shall requite By right and by might, Repaying the blow with a blow.
PENELOPE
For who would dare, Think they in their pride, One man 'gainst a host, (What worth is the youth?) Beard princes great Gathered at board? For howsoe'er In his cause he confide, In his strength he boast, Or courage, in sooth He would meet black fate On the point of the sword!
MAIDENS
Oua, ouai!
When a man doth defy
Singly a horde
Too oft doth he meet
With mortal defeat;
Zeus, save from this fate our dear lord !
PENELOPE
Our lord letteth drive A bitter shaft
112 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
From his bow good At Antinoiis smiling With high-raised head. His throat it doth rive, And the wine he hath quaffed Spurteth out with the blood, The food defiling On the table outspread.
MAIDENS
The dart his neck smiteth
As the proud prince doth smile;
The beggar requiteth
The insult vile;
And the haughty lord
Lieth dead on the board
In the hall that his deeds did defile.
PENELOPE
The wooers are raising A cry of fear; From their seats high They leap to their feet, On each other they call; Around are they gazing, For shield and spear, But none do they spy — Some servant discreet Hath hidden them all!
MAIDENS
lo, eleleu!
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 113
The swine-herd true Their arms hath removed Out of the hall, Lest to his lord loved Harm should befall.
PENELOPE
Flameth each heart
With anger vain.
In impotent fear,
In terror craven,
Our lord they threaten
With utter doom.
''Know, stranger, thy dart
Our leader hath slain,
A prince without peer.
For this shall the raven
Upon thy flesh batten,
The wolf shall thy marrow consume."
MAIDENS
With confidence clear The menace we hear; Word breaketh no bone; The coward alone At his foeman doth jeer.
PENELOPE
Odysseus high Uplifteth his head
114 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
Clear his words ring: "Ye dogs, that did steal The house within Whose lord was away, His goods to waste, Know, then, it is I, The man ye thought dead, Ithaca's king, Returned, to deal Vengeance: in sin Your souls to slay. Death ye shall taste/ '
MAIDENS
Jo, to!
Death shall they know ;
For our slaughtered kine
And our wasted wine
Their blood shall flow.
Io!
PENELOPE
The suitors turn
To Eurymachus strong
In mute appeal
To quell the foe.
With a bone for his blade
At our lord he leapeth.
But Odysseus stern
A shaft, yard-long,
Pointed with steel,
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 115
Speedeth, and low
The giant is laid.
Death over him creepeth.
MAIDENS
lo, eleleu!
He hath got his due;
The promise made
By the beggar is paid;
Sponged out is the score;
He lieth in gore;
Our lord his word keepeth.
PENELOPE
Careless our lord is! On him unaware Amphinomus stealeth With trencher-knife bright To strike from the rear. But the stealthy step heard is By Telemachus fair. Quick the lad wheeleth And the man doth he smite With bronze-pointed spear.
MAIDENS
lo, io !
Now plainly we know
The son doth inherit
The sire's own spirit —
'Twas Pallas that guided the blow.
110 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
PENELOPE
In terror sore
Like rats in a cage
The suitors are running
Around the wall
Escape to find.
But Eumaeus shrewd
His prudence hath proved:
Barred is the door.
Wild is their rage
At the swineherd's cunning. f
'Neath the tables they crawl,
The benches behind.
Only Phemius good
Sitteth unmoved,
No fear doth he show.
MAIDENS
Ao, ao!
On the minstrel blind
Thy mercy bestow,
Odysseus kind,
By him wert thou ever beloved.
PENELOPE
The blind bard sparing, His anger fierce On the suitors wreaking, Them singly he smiteth. His arrows long,
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 117
Through the wooden shields tearing,
Their bodies pierce,
Their base hearts seeking.
Thus he requiteth
The shame and the wrong.
Blow hath he rendered for blow!
MAIDENS
lot
Our wrongs hath he righted, Our shame hath requited, And given us gladness for wo.
PENELOPE
From his high throne
The minstrel dear
Riseth ; with joy
His face is agleam;
His harp doth he smite,
List, maids, to its tone.
His song ringeth clear:
Our lord come from Troy,
The land to redeem,
The reign restoring of Right!
MAIDENS
lo, eleleu!
The poet true,
In faith that is stronger than sight,
With inward light
118 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS
The end ever knew.
Now let him complete
His broken song,
For sad hearts too sweet
In the evil days long —
Return of the Hero whose feet
Shall trample the Serpent of Wrong.
Phemius emerges from within the Banquet Hall, and, standing on the porch, sings to the accompani- ment of his harp:
SONG Astra ha Redux
PHEMIUS
Hail, for thy sweet return
Dear Odysseus, lord! Glad are the hearts that did yearn,
Ended our eyes' weary ward;
Sorrow is turned into joy,
Darkness is lifted in light; The years since thou left us for Troy
Are passed as a watch in the night,
A troubled dream ere the dawn,
Yea, as a tale that is told, Like to a mist have they gone
That morning: has oceanward rolled.
SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 119
With peace let our purposes run, With justice our freedom make sure,
And gladness that rose with the sun Shall to his setting endure.
Odysseus in shining armor and Telemaclius emerge from the Banquet Hall upon the porch of the palace.
He comes with Telemaclius brave,
Victorious over our foe; Maidens, your palm-branches wave,
Odysseus, oa, iol
MAIDENS
Waving palm-branches, and repeating the former Dance of Triumph.
Oa, iol
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