they were hemming him in on all sides, allowing him no breathing
space, he left the shelter of the altar, the
hearth where victims
are placed, and with one bound was on them as on the Trojans of
yore; and they turned and fled like doves when they see the hawk. Many
fell in the
confusion: some wounded, and others trodden down by one
another along the narrow passages; and in that hushed holy house
uprose unholy din and echoed back from the rocks. Calm and still my
master stood there in his gleaming
harness like a flash of light, till
from the inmost
shrine there came a voice of thrilling horror,
stirring the crowd to make a stand. Then fell Achilles' son, smitten
through the flank by some Delphian's
biting blade, some fellow that
slew him with a host to help; and as he fell, there was not one that
did not stab him, or cast a rock and
batter his
corpse. So his whole
body, once so fair, was marred with
savage wounds. At last they cast
the
lifeless clay, Iying near the altar, forth from the
fragrant fane.
And we gathered up his remains
forthwith and are bringing them to
thee, old
prince, to mourn and weep and honour with a deep-dug tomb.
This is how that
prince who vouchsafeth
oracles to others, that
judge of what is right for all the world, hath revenged himself on
Achilles' son, remembering his ancient quarrel as a
wicked man
would. How then can he be wise?
(The MESSENGER withdraws as the body of Neoptolemus
is carried in on a bier. The following lines
between PELEUS and the CHORUS are
chanted responsively.)
CHORUS
Lo! e'en now our
prince is being carried on a bier from Delphi's
land unto his home. Woe for him and his sad fate, and woe for thee,
old sire! for this is not the
welcome thou wouldst give Achilles' son,
the lion's whelp; thyself too by this sad mischance dost share his
evil lot.
PELEUS
Ah! woe is me! here is a sad sight for me to see and take unto
my halls! Ah me! ah me! I am
undone, thou city of Thessaly! My line
now ends; I have no children left me in my home. Oh! the sorrows
seem born to endure! What friend can I look to for
relief? Ah, dear
lips, and cheeks, and hands! Would thy
destiny had slain the 'neath
Ilium's walls beside the banks of Simois!
CHORUS
Had he so died, my aged lord, he had won him honour
thereby, and
thine had been the happier lot.
PELEUS
O marriage, marriage, woe to thee! thou bane of my home, thou
destroyer of my city! Ah my child, my boy, would that the honour of
wedding thee,
fraught with evil as it was to my children and house,
had not thrown o'er thee, my son, Hermione's
deadly net! that the
thunderbolt had slain her sooner! and that thou, rash
mortal, hadst
never
charged the great god Phoebus with aiming that
murderous shaft
that spilt thy hero-father's blood!
CHORUS
Woe! woe! alas! With due
observance of
funeral rites will I
begin the
mourning for my dead master.
PELEUS
Alack and well-a-day! I take up the tearful dirge, ah me! old
and
wretched as I am.
CHORUS
'Tis Heaven's
decree; God willed this heavy stroke.
PELEUS
O
darling child, thou hast left me all alone in my halls, old
and childless by thy loss.
CHORUS
Thou shouldst have died, old sire, before thy children.
PELEUS
Shall I not tear my hair, and smite upon my head with grievous
blows? O city! of both my children hath Phoebus robbed me.
CHORUS
What evils thou hast suffered, what sorrows thou hast seen, thou
poor old man! what shall be thy life hereafter?
PELEUS
Childless,
desolate, with no limit to my grief, I must drain the
cup of woe, until I die.
CHORUS
'Twas all in vain the gods wished thee joy on thy
wedding day.
PELEUS
All my hopes have flown away, fallen short of my high boasts.