Achilles and Helena on Ida

HELENA.
Where am I? O ye blessed ones above,
Desert me not! ye Twain who brought me hither!
Was it a dream?

Stranger! thou seemest thoughtful;
Couldst thou not answer me? why silent? speak,
I do implore thee.

ACHILLES.

Neither they nor feet
Of mules have borne thee where thou standest,

Helena!
Whether 'twas in the hour of early sleep
Or whether 'twas in morning's, know I not.
But Aphrodite, listening to my prayer,
And Thetis with her, gentle as herself.
Have wafted thee into these solitudes,
And to me also pointed out the way.
That I the pride of Sparta might behold
And the Earth's marvel. How my heart expands.
But agonizes too, at thee, the cause
To Hellas of innumerable woes.

HELENA.

Stranger! thy voice, thy stature, and thy mien
Approve thee one whom Goddesses and Gods
Might well conduct and glory in; but who,
If earthly, art thou?
ACHILLES.

Son of Peleus am I.
Tremble not, turn not pale, bend not thy knee.

HELENA.
Spare me, thou Goddess-born! thou cherisht son
Of silver-footed Thetis! Sure, Chryseis
And she who rais'd within thy generous breast
More pity than disdain for cruel wrong,
Briseis, now might soften it: lead not
Me too into captivity. Ah! woes
I have brought down on Hellas; on myself
Have fallen woes, and will for ever fall.
ACHILLES.
Daughter of Zeus! what words are thine! they raise
No pity in my breast, none needest thou
AVithin my reach to give, but bitter wrath
Thou raisest at indignity and wrong.
Chryseis, daughter of that aged priest
Who in this land performs due sacrifice
To his Apollo, was another's lot.
Insolent and unworthy, he hath brought
More sorrows on our people even than thou.
And dogs and vultures prey upon the brave
Who fell without a wound.

Mine is indeed
Briseis, chaste and beautiful Briseis,
He contumatious, proud at once and base
Would tear her from me.

Gods above! what land
Behold ye where the wolf hath dared to seize
Kid which a lion hath taken.

Never fear
Mortal shall lead thee into servitude;
What impious wretch would dare it? hath not Zeus
Thundered above these mountains? Doth not he,
Wide-seeing, see all earth but Ida? watch
Over all creatures but his progeny?
Capaneus and Typhoeus less offended
Than would the wretch whose grasp should violate
The golden hair of Helena.

Tremblest thou,
Irresolute, distrustful?

HELENA.

I must tremble,
And more and more.

ACHILLES.
Then take my hand.
HELENA.

And may I?
May I? and hold it? I am comforted,

ACHILLES.

The scene around us, calm and silent, ought
To comfort thee: turn est thou to survey it?
Perhaps it is unknown to thee.

HELENA.

'Tis so.
Since my arrival I have never gone
Beyond the city-walls.
ACHILLES.

Gaze freely then,
Perplext no longer. Pleasant are these downs,
Pleasant the level eminence, by broom
Surrounded, and with myrtle underneath
And crispleaved beech and broad dark pine above.
Bare place for boars: why are my dogs at home.
And where for sylvan sport my leisure hours.

HELENA.
But those are gloomy places, not so this.
Frightful are boars and wolves and such like things.
But here how pretty is the slender grass
Bent by the glossy insects as they climb
Or light upon it, or upon the tall
Sisterhoods of grey lavender! their names
I recollect now I have found them here
Within this very hour and seen them close.
The dark-eyed cistus and gay citisus.
Are here too.
ACHILLES.

Wonderful! how couldst thou learn
To name so many plants?

HELENA.

I could name ten.
Look! see the little troops of serpolet
Running in wild disorder here and there,
'hou knowest these perhaps and many more.
ACHILLES.

Keiron taught me, while walking at his side
And he was culling herbs to cure the hurt
His brother Centaurs might in play recieve.
Wonderous his knowledge; I was proud to learn.
Sometimes he seated me and made me sing:
Sometimes he took the lyre and sang himself.
At intervals I catch the fleeting words
He sang to me.

HELENA.

He sang of war, no doubt.
Repeat his words, if thou art loth to sing.

ACHILLES.

Look at those yellow poppies! were the words
They are come out to catch whateer the sun
Will throw into their cups; their faces show
Their joyance. Son of Peleus! they begin
Their nodding dance, and wait but for the lyre.

HELENA.

Childish! for one with such a spear against
His shoulder; even its shadow terrible.
It seems to make a chasm across the plain.

ACHILLES.

To talk or think as children think and talk
Is not at all times such a proof of folly;
There may be hours when it shall push aside
Griefs, where the strength of graver wisdom fails.
HELENA.

But Keiron, when he sang to thee of flowers
Showed httle.

ACHILLES.

To his lyre he sang the loves
Of Hyacinthos and Narcissos, brought
Back by the Hours on their unwearied feet,
Regular in their courses as the stars.
Many of the trees and bright-eyed flowers once lived
And moved, and even spoke, as we are speaking.
Memories they yet may have, tho they have cares
No longer.

HELENA.

They then have no memories,
They see their beauty only.

ACHILLES.

Helena!
Thou turn est pale and droopest.

HELENA.

Gum or blossom
Or this high place, or something else unseen,
Hath made me dizzy: can it be the wind?

ACHILLES.
Air there is none.
HELENA.

I wish there were a little.
ACHILLES.

Be seated now.
HELENA.
The feeble are obedient.
ACHILLES.

Twas on this very ground where we repose
They who conducted me by certain signs
Told me the prize of beauty was awarded.
One of them smiled; the other, whom in duty
I love the most, lookt anxious and let fall
Some tears.

HELENA.
Yet she was not one of the vanquisht
ACHILLES.

Goddesses then contended. Helena
Was absent, and too young.

HELENA.

Alas! how fatal
Was the decision of the arbiter.
Could not thy sire the venerable Peleus,
And could not Pyrrhos, child so beautiful
And helpless, have detained thee from this war?

ACHILLES.

No reverence and no friendship for the race
Of Atreus brought me against Troy; I hate,
Detest and execrate alike both brothers;
Another is more odious to me stil,

I will forbear to name him. The brave man
Holding the hearth as sacred as the temple,
Violates never hospitality.
He carries not away the gold he finds
Within the house, folds not up purple linen
Workt for solemnities, conveying it
Stealthily from the cedar chest to stow
In the dark ship, together with a wife
Confided to him by her absent lord.
I will not say to love thee was a crime;
Priam or Nestor might, even at their years,
But to avow and act on the avowal
Is what the Gods, if righteous, will chastise.
HELENA.

But Aphrodite urged me, day and night.
Telling me that to make her break her vow
To Paris was inexpiable sin.
So she told Paris at the selfsame hours.
And quite as often, he repeated it
Every morning, showing how his dreams
Tallied with mine exactly. So, at last . .

ACHILLES.

The last is not yet come. By all the Gods
If I should ever meet him, face to face
I with this spear transfix him.

HELENA.

Pray, do not,
For Aphrodite never would forgive thee.
ACHILLES.

I am not sure of that; she soon forgets.
Variable as Iris, she one day-
Favors, the next forsakes. .

HELENA.

She may forsake
Me then!

ACHILLES.

But other Deities
Watch over and protect thee. Thy brave brothers
Are with them at this very hour, and they
Are never absent from their festivals.

HELENA.

Oh! were they living! that thou couldst have seen them!

ACHILLES.

Companions of my father on the Phasis
They were his guests before they went, all three,
To hunt the boar of Calydon; that day
Brought many sorrows upon brave men's hearts,
A woman was the cause.

HELENA.

Horrible creature!
The boar, I mean . . Didst thou not see the Twins?
ACHILLES.

I saw them not; desirous as I was
That I might learn from them and practice with

them
Whatever is most laudable and manly.
My father, fearing my impetuosity
(Old men will call it so) and inexperience
Sent me away. Soothsayers had foretold
Some mischief to me from an arrow- wound:
Among the brakes an arrow may fly wide,
Glancing from trees.

HELENA.

Hadst thou but seen the Twins!
Tho 'twere but once. The Sun will never shine
AVith his bright eyes upon such youths again.
Ah my brave brothers! how they tended me!
How loved me! often wishing me to mount
Each his horse first: they made me poise and hurl
Their javelins: they would teach me archery . .
But they could only teach me to swim with them:
It gratified me rather to be prais'd
For anything than swimming.

Happy hours!
Soon over! does then happiness depart
Sooner than beauty? Surely it might stay
That little while.

Dear Kastor! Polydeukes
Stil dearer! often shall I think of you
As you were, and as I was, on the bank
Of the Eurotas.
ACHILLES.

Is there not at home
One once as dear?

HELENA.

Ah poor Hermione!
A babe was she who could not play with me,
Yet 'twas my pride and pleasure to survey
Her roseate fingers on my unrobed breast:
And I could almost envy then the goat
That stampt and feebly cried to give her milk.
My brothers teazed her for it, wicked pair!
Terrible, and almost as beautiful
As thou art. Be not wroth; blush not for me.

ACHILLES.
Helena! Helena of Menelaos!
My mother is reported to have left
About me only one part vulnerable;
I have at last found where it is. Farewell!
HELENA.
O leave me not! I do beseech, I implore,
Leave me not thus alone! these solitudes
Are terrible: wild beasts must roam among them;
There certainly are Fauns and Satyrs, there
Cybele, who bears towers upon her head,
Abhorring Aphrodite, persecuting
All those she favors; and her priests so cruel

That they are cruel even to themselves.
She sees grim lions yoked before her car
And hears their dismal roar, and sits serene.

ACHILLES.

They who have brought thee hither in a cloud
Will reconduct thee in a cloud, unseen
And safely, to the city: be thou sure.
Daughter of Leda and of Zeus, farewell!
Not even this arm could save thee if our host
Saw thee descending, trust the Gods who can.
The Gods who sent me hither to announce
That Helena shall close her eyes in Greece.