Thyestes: Act III

Thyestes: At last do I behold the welcome roofsOf this my fatherland, the teeming wealthOf Argos, and, the greatest and the bestOf sights to weary exiles, here I seeMy 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 oftentimesHave I within my father's chariotSped on to victory and fair renown.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 realmWith its fair-seeming glitter blind my eyes?When thou dost look upon the goodly gift,Scan well the giver too. Of late I livedWith bold and joyous spirit, though my lotAll men considered hard to bear. But nowMy heart is filled with fears, my courage fails;And, bent on flight, my feet unwilling move.

Tantalus [one of Thyestes' sons]: Why, O my father,dost thou falter soWith steps uncertain, turn away thy face,And hold thyself as on a doubtful course?

Thyestes [in soliloquy]: Why hesitate, my soul, or why so longDeliberate upon a point so clear?To such uncertain things dost thou intrustThyself as throne and brother? And fearest thouThose ills already conquered and found mild?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 leaveThy native land at last regained? Why now,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.I long to go, and yet my trembling limbsGo on with faltering steps, and I am borneWhere 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 beThat doth oppose and hold thy soul in check;And see how great rewards await thee here:Thou canst be king.

Thyestes: Naught, if only thouNo power dost covet.Thyestes: No realm on earth can stand divided power.

Tantalus: Should he, who can be happy, still be sad?

Thyestes: Believe me, son, 'tis by their lying namesThat things seem great, while others harsh appearWhich are not truly so. When high in powerI stood, I never ceased to be in fear;Yea, even did I fear the very swordUpon my thigh. Oh, what a boon it isTo be at feud with none, to eat one's breadWithout a trace of care, upon the ground!Crime enters not the poor man's humble cot;And all in safety may one take his foodFrom slender boards; for 'tis in cups of goldThat poison lurks--I speak what I do know.Ill fortune is to be preferred to good.For since my palace does not threatening standIn pride upon some lofty mountain top,The people fear me not; my towering roofsGleam not with ivory, nor do I needA watchful guard to keep me while I sleep.I do not fish with fleets, nor drive the seaWith massive dykes back from its natural shore;I do not gorge me at the world's expense;For me no fields remote are harvestedBeyond the Getae and the Parthians;No incense burns for me, nor are my shrinesAdorned in impious neglect of Jove;No forests wave upon my battlements,No vast pools steam for my delight; my daysAre not to slumber given, nor do I spendThe 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.

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 returnsUnto 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?Sooner shall ocean bathe the heavenly Bears,The raging waves of Sicily be still;And sooner shall the Ionian waters yieldRipe fields of grain; black night illume the earth;And fire shall mate with water, life with death,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 aloneI 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 showMy 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.

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!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 goesWith lowered muzzle questing on the trail.While distant still the game and faint the scent,Obedient to the leash, with silent tongueHe 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 concealsHis woeful countenance; how foul his beard.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 theeHas melted clean away. From this time forthLet ties of blood be cherished, love and faith;And let that hatred which has cursed us bothForever 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 ownThat I have sinned against thee past belief.Thy faithful piety has made my caseSeem blacker still. A double sinner heWho sins against a brother such as thou.Now let my tears my penitence approve.Thou, first of all mankind, beholdest meA suppliant; these hands, which never yetHave touched the feet of man, are laid on thine.Let all thy wrathful feelings be forgot,Be utterly erased from off thy soul;And take, O brother, as my pledge of faithThese guiltless sons of mine.

Atreus: Lay not thy handsUpon 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,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 repayThese deeds of thine. But this my wretched headWill not consent to wear a diadem,Nor my ill-omened hand to hold the staffOf power. Nay, rather, let me hide myselfAmong the throng.Thyestes: But I shall know that all of thine is mine.

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.

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 thiscrown upon thy reverend head,And pay the destined victims to the gods.

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 faceWas held in dumb amaze.No force is greater than the powerOf Nature's ties of love. 'Tis trueThat wars with foreign foes endure;But they whom true love once has boundWill 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 downWith champing steeds; when flashing swords,By carnage-maddened Mars upreared,Gleam with a deadly rain of blows:E'en then for sacred pietyThose warring hands will sheathe the swordAnd join in the clasp of peace.What god has given this sudden lullIn the midst of loud alarms? But nowThroughout Mycenae's borders rangThe noisy prelude of a strife'Twixt brothers' arms. Here mothers paleEmbraced their sons, and the trembling wifeLooked on her arméd lord in fear,While the sword to his hand reluctant came,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 guardHis anxious nightly vigils kept.The daily fear of war is worseThan 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 clarionAre heard no more. While peace profoundBroods once again o'er the happy state.So when, beneath the storm blast's lash,The heaving waves break on the shoreOf Bruttium, and Scylla roarsResponsive from her cavern's depths;Then, even within their sheltered port,The sailors fear the foaming seaWhich greedy Charybdis vomits up;And Cyclops dreads his father's rageWhere he sits on burning Aetna's crag,Lest the deathless flames on his roaring forgeBe quenched by the overwhelming floods;When poor Laërtes feels the shockOf reeling Ithaca, and thinksThat 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,Now far and wide with swelling sailsIs overspread, while tiny skiffsSkim safely o'er its harmless breast;And one may count the very fishDeep down within the peaceful caves,Where but now, beneath the raging blast,The battered islands feared the sea.No lot endureth long. For griefAnd pleasure, each in turn, depart;But pleasure has a briefer reign.From lowest to the highest stateA fleeting hour may bring us. He,Who wears a crown upon his brow,To whom the trembling nations kneel,Before whose nod the barbarous MedesLay down their arms, the Indians too,Who dwell beneath the nearer sun,And Dacians, who the Parthian horseAre ever threat'ning: he, the king,With anxious mind the scepter bears,Foresees and fears the fickle chanceAnd shifting time which soon or lateShall all his power overthrow.Ye, whom the ruler of the landAnd sea has given o'er subject menThe fearful power of life and death,Abate your overweening pride.For whatsoever fear of youYour weaker subjects feel today,Tomorrow shall a stronger lordInspire in you. For every powerIs subject to a greater power.Him, whom the dawning day beholdsIn proud estate, the setting sunSees lying in the dust.Let no one then trust overmuchTo favoring fate; and when she frowns,Let no one utterly despairOf 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 goodThat he may safely call his ownTomorrow's dawn; for on the whirling wheelHas God our fortunes placed for good or ill.