Chapter XXXIII: Act III

[_Enter_ Thyestes _returning from banishment, accompanied by his three sons_.]

_Thyestes:_ At last do I behold the welcome roofs
Of this my fatherland, the teeming wealth
Of Argos, and, the greatest and the best
Of sights to weary exiles, here I see 405
My native soil and my ancestral gods
(If gods indeed there be). And there, behold,
The sacred towers by hands of Cyclops reared,
In beauty far excelling human art;
The race-course thronged with youth, where oftentimes
Have I within my father's chariot
Sped on to victory and fair renown. 410
Now will all Argos come to welcome me;
The thronging folk will come--and Atreus too!
Oh, better far reseek thy wooded haunts,
Thy glades remote, and, mingled with the brutes,
Live e'en as they. Why should this splendid realm
With its fair-seeming glitter blind my eyes? 415
When thou dost look upon the goodly gift,
Scan well the giver too. Of late I lived
With bold and joyous spirit, though my lot
All men considered hard to bear. But now
My heart is filled with fears, my courage fails;
And, bent on flight, my feet unwilling move. 420

_Tantalus_ [_one of_ Thyestes' _sons_]: Why, O my father,
dost thou falter so
With steps uncertain, turn away thy face,
And hold thyself as on a doubtful course?

_Thyestes_ [_in soliloquy_]: Why hesitate, my soul, or why so long
Deliberate upon a point so clear?
To such uncertain things dost thou intrust
Thyself as throne and brother? And fearest thou
Those ills already conquered and found mild? 425
Dost flee those cares which thou hast well bestowed?
Oh, now my former wretchedness is joy.
Turn back, while still thou mayst, and save thyself.

_Tantalus:_ What cause, O father, forces thee to leave
Thy native land at last regained? Why now, 430
When richest gifts are falling in thy lap,
Dost turn away? Thy brother's wrath is o'er;
And he has turned himself once more to thee,
Has given thee back thy share of sovereignty,
Restored our shattered house to harmony,
And made thee master of thyself again.

_Thyestes:_ Thou askest why I fear--I cannot tell.
No cause for fear I see, but still I fear. 435
I long to go, and yet my trembling limbs
Go on with faltering steps, and I am borne
Where I most stoutly struggle not to go.
So, when a ship by oar and sail is driven,
The tide, resisting both, bears it away.

_Tantalus:_ But thou must overcome whate'er it be 440
That doth oppose and hold thy soul in check;
And see how great rewards await thee here:
Thou canst be king.

_Thyestes:_ Since I have power to die.

_Tantalus:_ But royal power is--

_Thyestes:_ Naught, if only thou
No power dost covet.

_Tantalus:_ Leave it to thy sons.

_Thyestes:_ No realm on earth can stand divided power.

_Tantalus:_ Should he, who can be happy, still be sad? 445

_Thyestes:_ Believe me, son, 'tis by their lying names
That things seem great, while others harsh appear
Which are not truly so. When high in power
I stood, I never ceased to be in fear;
Yea, even did I fear the very sword
Upon my thigh. Oh, what a boon it is
To be at feud with none, to eat one's bread 450
Without a trace of care, upon the ground!
Crime enters not the poor man's humble cot;
And all in safety may one take his food
From slender boards; for 'tis in cups of gold
That poison lurks--I speak what I do know.
Ill fortune is to be preferred to good.
For since my palace does not threatening stand 455
In pride upon some lofty mountain top,
The people fear me not; my towering roofs
Gleam not with ivory, nor do I need
A watchful guard to keep me while I sleep.
I do not fish with fleets, nor drive the sea
With massive dykes back from its natural shore; 460
I do not gorge me at the world's expense;
For me no fields remote are harvested
Beyond the Getae and the Parthians;
No incense burns for me, nor are my shrines
Adorned in impious neglect of Jove;
No forests wave upon my battlements,
No vast pools steam for my delight; my days 465
Are not to slumber given, nor do I spend
The livelong night in drunken revelry.
No one feels fear of me, and so my home,
Though all unguarded, is from danger free;
For poverty alone may be at peace.
And this I hold: the mightiest king is he,
Who from the lust of sovereignty is free. 470

_Tantalus:_ But if some god a kingdom should bestow,
It is not meet for mortal to refuse:
Behold, thy brother bids thee to the throne.

_Thyestes:_ He bids? 'Tis but a cloak for treachery.

_Tantalus:_ But brotherly regard ofttimes returns
Unto the heart from which it has been driven;
And righteous love regains its former strength.

_Thyestes:_ And dost thou speak of brother's love to me? 475
Sooner shall ocean bathe the heavenly Bears,
The raging waves of Sicily be still;
And sooner shall the Ionian waters yield
Ripe fields of grain; black night illume the earth;
And fire shall mate with water, life with death, 480
And winds shall make a treaty with the sea:
Than shall Thyestes know a brother's love.

_Tantalus:_ What treachery dost thou fear?

_Thyestes:_ All treachery.
What proper limit shall I give my fear?
My brother's power is boundless as his hate.

_Tantalus:_ How can he harm thee?

_Thyestes:_ For myself alone 485
I have no fears; but 'tis for you, my sons,
That Atreus must be held in fear by me.

_Tantalus:_ But canst thou be o'ercome, if on thy guard?

_Thyestes:_ Too late one guards when in the midst of ills.
But let us on. In this one thing I show
My fatherhood: I do not lead to ill,
But follow you.

_Tantalus:_ If well we heed our ways,
God will protect us. Come with courage on. 490

_Atreus_ [_coming upon the scene, sees_ Thyestes _and his three sons,
and gloats over the fact that his brother is at last in his power.
He speaks aside_]: Now is the prey fast caught within my toils.
I see the father and his hated brood,
And here my vengeful hate is safe bestowed;
For now at last he's come into my hands;
He's come, Thyestes and his children--all! 495
When I see him I scarce can curb my grief,
And keep my soul from breaking madly forth.
So when the Umbrian hound pursues the prey,
Keen scented, on the long leash held, he goes
With lowered muzzle questing on the trail.
While distant still the game and faint the scent,
Obedient to the leash, with silent tongue 500
He goes along; but when the prey is near,
With straining neck he struggles to be free,
Bays loud against the cautious hunter's check,
And bursts from all restraint.
When, near at hand,
Hot wrath perceives the blood for which it thirsts,
It cannot be restrained. Yet must it be.
See how his unkempt, matted hair conceals 505
His woeful countenance; how foul his beard.
[_He now addresses_ Thyestes.]
My promised faith, my brother, will I keep;
'Tis a delight to see thee once again.
Come to my arms in mutual embrace;
For all the anger which I felt for thee
Has melted clean away. From this time forth
Let ties of blood be cherished, love and faith; 510
And let that hatred which has cursed us both
Forever vanish from our kindred souls.

_Thyestes:_ I should attempt to palliate my sins,
Hadst thou not shown me such fraternal love;
But now I own, my brother, now I own
That I have sinned against thee past belief.
Thy faithful piety has made my case
Seem blacker still. A double sinner he 515
Who sins against a brother such as thou.
Now let my tears my penitence approve.
Thou, first of all mankind, beholdest me
A suppliant; these hands, which never yet
Have touched the feet of man, are laid on thine.
Let all thy wrathful feelings be forgot,
Be utterly erased from off thy soul; 520
And take, O brother, as my pledge of faith
These guiltless sons of mine.

_Atreus:_ Lay not thy hands
Upon my knees. Come, rather, to my arms.
And you, dear youths, the comforters of age,
Come cling about my neck. Those rags of woe,
My brother, lay aside, and spare mine eyes;
And clothe thyself more fittingly in these, 525
The equal of my own. And, last of all,
Accept thine equal share of this our realm.
'Twill bring a greater meed of praise to me,
To restore thee safely to thy father's throne.
For chance may put the scepter in our hands;
But only virtue seeks to give it up.

_Thyestes:_ May heaven, my brother, worthily repay 530
These deeds of thine. But this my wretched head
Will not consent to wear a diadem,
Nor my ill-omened hand to hold the staff
Of power. Nay, rather, let me hide myself
Among the throng.

_Atreus:_ There's room upon the throne.

_Thyestes:_ But I shall know that all of thine is mine. 535

_Atreus:_ But who would throw away good fortune's gifts?

_Thyestes:_ Whoe'er has found how easily they fail.

_Atreus:_ And wouldst thou thwart thy brother's great renown?

_Thyestes:_ Thy glory is attained; mine bides its time.
My mind is resolute to shun the crown. 540

_Atreus:_ Then I refuse my share of power as well.

_Thyestes:_ Nay then, I yield. The name of king I'll wear,
But laws and arms--and I, are thine to sway.

_Atreus_ [_placing the crown on his brother's head_]: I'll place this
crown upon thy reverend head,
And pay the destined victims to the gods. 545

* * * * *

_Chorus:_ The sight is past belief. Behold,
This Atreus, fierce and bold of soul,
By every cruel passion swayed,
When first he saw his brother's face
Was held in dumb amaze.
No force is greater than the power
Of Nature's ties of love. 'Tis true
That wars with foreign foes endure; 550
But they whom true love once has bound
Will ever feel its ties.
When wrath, by some great cause aroused,
Hath burst the bonds of amity,
And raised the dreadful cry of war;
When gleaming squadrons thunder down
With champing steeds; when flashing swords, 555
By carnage-maddened Mars upreared,
Gleam with a deadly rain of blows:
E'en then for sacred piety
Those warring hands will sheathe the sword
And join in the clasp of peace.
What god has given this sudden lull 560
In the midst of loud alarms? But now
Throughout Mycenae's borders rang
The noisy prelude of a strife
'Twixt brothers' arms. Here mothers pale
Embraced their sons, and the trembling wife
Looked on her arméd lord in fear,
While the sword to his hand reluctant came, 565
Foul with the rust of peace.
One strove to renew the tottering walls,
And one to strengthen the shattered towers,
And close the gates with iron bars;
While on the battlements the guard 570
His anxious nightly vigils kept.
The daily fear of war is worse
Than war itself.
But fallen now are the sword's dire threats,
The deep-voiced trumpet-blare is still,
And the shrill, harsh notes of the clarion 575
Are heard no more. While peace profound
Broods once again o'er the happy state.
So when, beneath the storm blast's lash,
The heaving waves break on the shore
Of Bruttium, and Scylla roars
Responsive from her cavern's depths;
Then, even within their sheltered port, 580
The sailors fear the foaming sea
Which greedy Charybdis vomits up;
And Cyclops dreads his father's rage
Where he sits on burning Aetna's crag,
Lest the deathless flames on his roaring forge 585
Be quenched by the overwhelming floods;
When poor Laërtes feels the shock
Of reeling Ithaca, and thinks
That his island realm will be swallowed up:
Then, if the fierce winds die away,
The waves sink back in their quiet depths;
And the sea, which of late the vessels feared, 590
Now far and wide with swelling sails
Is overspread, while tiny skiffs
Skim safely o'er its harmless breast;
And one may count the very fish
Deep down within the peaceful caves,
Where but now, beneath the raging blast,
The battered islands feared the sea. 595
No lot endureth long. For grief
And pleasure, each in turn, depart;
But pleasure has a briefer reign.
From lowest to the highest state
A fleeting hour may bring us. He,
Who wears a crown upon his brow,
To whom the trembling nations kneel, 600
Before whose nod the barbarous Medes
Lay down their arms, the Indians too,
Who dwell beneath the nearer sun,
And Dacians, who the Parthian horse
Are ever threat'ning: he, the king,
With anxious mind the scepter bears,
Foresees and fears the fickle chance 605
And shifting time which soon or late
Shall all his power overthrow.
Ye, whom the ruler of the land
And sea has given o'er subject men
The fearful power of life and death,
Abate your overweening pride.
For whatsoever fear of you 610
Your weaker subjects feel today,
Tomorrow shall a stronger lord
Inspire in you. For every power
Is subject to a greater power.
Him, whom the dawning day beholds
In proud estate, the setting sun
Sees lying in the dust.
Let no one then trust overmuch 615
To favoring fate; and when she frowns,
Let no one utterly despair
Of better fortune yet to come.
For Clotho mingles good and ill;
She whirls the wheel of fate around,
Nor suffers it to stand.
To no one are the gods so good
That he may safely call his own 620
Tomorrow's dawn; for on the whirling wheel
Has God our fortunes placed for good or ill.