Act V

ATREUS.
[entering exultingly]
The peer of stars I move, high over all,
And with exalted head attain the heavens!
Now are the reins of power within my hands,
And I am master of my father's throne.
I here renounce the gods, for I have gained
The height of my desires. It is enough,
And even I am satisfied. But why?
Nay, rather, will I finish my revenge,
And glut the father with his feast of death.
The day has fled, lest shame should hold me back;
Act then, while yet the darkness veils the sky.
Oh, that I might restrain the fleeing gods,
And force them to behold the avenging feast!
But 'tis enough, if but the father sees.
Though daylight aid me not, yet will I snatch
The shrouding darkness from thy miseries.
Too long with care-free, cheerful countenance
Thou liest at the feast. Now food enough,
And wine enough. For so great ills as these,
Thyestes must his sober senses keep.
[To the slaves.]
Ye menial throng, spread wide the temple doors,
The festal hall reveal. 'Tis sweet to note
The father's frantic grief when first he sees
His children's gory heads; to catch his words,
To watch his color change; to see him sit,
All breathless with the shock, in dumb amaze,
In frozen horror at the gruesome sight.
This is the sweet reward of all my toil--
To see his misery, e'en as it grows
Upon his soul.
[The doors are thrown open, showing Thyestes at the banquet table.]
Now gleams with many a torch
The spacious banquet hall. See, there he lies
Upon his golden couch all richly decked
With tapestry, his wine-befuddled head
Upstayed upon his hand. Oh, happy me!
The mightiest of the heavenly gods am I,
And king of kings! The fondest of my hopes
Is more than realized. His meal is done;
Now raises he his silver cup to drink.
Spare not the wine; there still remains the blood
Of thy three sons, and 'twill be well disguised
With old red wine. Now be the revel done.
Now let the father drink the mingled blood
Of his own offspring; mine he would have drunk.
But see, he starts to sing a festal song,
With mind uncertain and with senses dim.

THYESTES.
[sits alone at the banquet table, half overcome with wine;
he tries to sing and be gay, but in spite of this, some
vague premonition of evil weighs upon his spirit]
O heart, long dulled with wretchedness,
Put by at last thine anxious cares.
Oh, now let grief and fear depart;
Let haunting hunger flee away,
The grim companion of the lot
Of trembling exiles; and disgrace,
A heavy load for mourning souls.
More boots it from what height thou fall'st,
Than to what depth. How noble is't,
When fallen from the pinnacle,
With dauntless step and firm, to tread
The lowly plain; and noble too,
Though by a mass of cares o'erwhelmed,
To bolster up the shattered throne
With neck unbending; and with soul
Heroic, undismayed by ills,
To stand erect beneath the weight
Of ruined fortunes.
But away,
Ye gloomy clouds of fate; ye marks
Of former misery, depart.
Thy happy fortune greet with face
Of joy, and utterly forget
The old Thyestes. But alas!
This fault is linked with wretchedness,
That never can the woeful soul
Accept returned prosperity.
Though kindly fortune smile again,
He who has suffered finds it hard
To give himself to joy. But why
Dost thou restrain me? Why forbid
To celebrate this festal day?
Why wouldst thou have me weep, O grief,
For no cause rising? Why with flowers,
Dost thou forbid to wreathe my hair?
It does, it does forbid! For see,
Upon my head the flowers of spring
Have withered; and my festal locks,
Though dripping with the precious nard,
Stand up in sudden dread; my cheeks,
That have no cause to weep, are wet
With tears; and in the midst of speech
I groan aloud. No doubt 'tis true,
That grief, well trained in weeping, loves
To melt away in tears; and oft
The wretched feel a strong desire
To weep their fill. E'en so I long
To cry aloud my wretchedness,
To rend these gorgeous Tyrian robes,
And shriek my misery to heaven.
My mind gives intimation dark
Of coming grief, its own distress
Foreboding. So the sailor fears
The raging tempest's near approach,
When tranquil waters heave and swell,
Without a breath of wind. Thou fool,
What grief, what rising storm of fate
Dost thou imagine nigh? Nay, nay,
Believe thy brother; for thy fear--
'Tis groundless, whatsoe'er it be,
Or thou dost fear too late. Ah me,
I would not be unhappy now;
But in my soul dim terror stalks,
Nor can my eyes withhold their tears;
And all for naught. What can it be?
Am I possessed by grief or fear?
Or can this some great rapture be,
That weeps for joy?

ATREUS.
[greeting his brother with effusive affection]
With one consent, my brother, let us keep
This festal day. For this the happy day
Which shall the scepter 'stablish in thy hand,
And link our family in the bonds of peace.

THYESTES.
[pushing the remains of the feast from him]
Enough of food and wine! One thing alone
Can swell my generous sum of happiness--
If with my children I may share my joy.

ATREUS.
Believe that in the father's bosom rest
The sons; both now and ever shall they be
With thee. No single part of these thy sons
Shall e'er be taken from thee. Make request:
What thou desirest will I freely give,
And fill thee with thy loving family.
Thou shalt be satisfied; be not afraid.
E'en now thy children, mingled with my own,
Enjoy alone their youthful festival.
They shall be summoned hither. Now behold
This ancient cup, an heirloom of our house.
Take thou and drink the wine which it contains.

[He hands Thyestes the cup filled with mingled blood and wine.]

THYESTES.
I take my brother's proffered gift. But first
Unto our father's gods we'll pour a share,
And then will drink the cup.
But what is this?
My hands will not obey my will; the cup--
How heavy it has grown, how it resists
My grasp! And see how now the wine itself,
Though lifted to my mouth, avoids the touch,
And flees my disappointed lips. Behold,
The table totters on the trembling floor;
The lights burn dim; the very air is thick,
And, by the natural fires deserted, stands
All dull and lifeless 'twixt the day and night.
What can it all portend? Now more and more
The shattered heavens seem tottering to their fall;
The darkness deepens, and the gloomy night
In blacker night is plunged. And all the stars
Have disappeared. Whatever this may mean,
Oh, spare my children, brother, spare, I pray;
And let this gathering storm of evil burst
Upon my head. Oh, give me back my sons!

ATREUS.
Yes, I will give them back, and never more
Shall they be taken from thy fond embrace.

[Exit.]

THYESTES.
What is this tumult rising in my breast?
Why do my vitals quake? I feel a load
Unbearable, and from my inmost heart
Come groans of agony that are not mine.
My children, come! your wretched father calls.
Oh come! For when mine eyes behold you here,
Perchance this care will pass away.--But whence
Those answering calls?

ATREUS.
[returning, with a covered platter in his hands]
Now spread thy loving arms.
See, here they are.
[He uncovers the platter revealing the severed heads of Thyestes'
sons.]
Dost recognize thy sons?

THYESTES.
I recognize my brother! How, O Earth,
Canst thou endure such monstrous crime as this?
Why dost thou not to everlasting shade
And Styx infernal cleave a yawning gulf,
And sweep away to empty nothingness
This guilty king with all his realm? And why
Dost thou not raze, and utterly destroy
The city of Mycenae? Both of us
Should stand with Tantalus in punishment.
If, far below the depths of Tartarus,
There is a deeper hell, O Mother Earth,
Thy strong foundations rend asunder wide,
And send us thither to that lowest pit.
There let us hide beneath all Acheron;
Let damnéd shades above our guilty heads
Go wandering; let fiery Phlegethon
In raging torrent pour his burning sands
Above our place of exile.
But the earth
Insensate lies, and utterly unmoved.
The gods have fled.

ATREUS.
Nay, come with thankful heart
Receive thy sons whom thou hast long desired.
Enjoy them, kiss them, share among the three
Thy fond embraces.

THYESTES.
And is this thy bond?
Is this thy grace, thy fond fraternal faith?
So dost thou cease to hate? I do not ask
That I may have my sons again unharmed;
But what in crime and hatred may be given,
This I, a brother, from a brother ask:
That I may bury them. Restore my sons,
And thou shalt see their corpses burned at once.
The father begs for naught that he may keep,
But utterly destroy.

ATREUS.
Thou hast thy sons,
Whate'er of them remains; thou also hast
Whate'er does not remain.

THYESTES.
What hast thou done?
Hast fed them to the savage, greedy birds?
Have beasts of prey devoured their tender flesh?

ATREUS.
Thou hast thyself that impious banquet made.

THYESTES.
Oh, then, 'twas this that shamed the gods of heaven,
And drove the day in horror back to dawn!
Ah me, what cries shall voice, what plaints express
My wretchedness? Where can I find the words
That can describe my woe? The severed heads
And hands and mangled feet are there; for these
Their sire, for all his greed, could not devour.
But Oh, I feel within my vitals now
That horrid thing which struggles to be free,
But can no exit find. Give me the sword,
Which even now is reeking with my blood,
That it may set my children free from me.
Thou wilt not give it me? Then let my breast
Resound with crushing blows--but hold thy hand,
Unhappy one, and spare the imprisoned shades.
Oh, who has ever seen such crime as this?
What dweller on the rough and hostile crags
Of Caucasus, or what Procrustes dire,
The terror of the land of Attica?
Lo I, the father, overwhelm my sons,
And by those very sons am overwhelmed.
Is there no limit to this crime of thine?

ATREUS.
When one for its own sake commits a crime,
There is a proper limit; but no end
Is possible when vengeance through the crime
Is sought. E'en as it is, this deed of mine
Is all too mild. I should have poured their blood
Straight from their gaping wounds into thy mouth,
That thou mightst drink their very streams of life.
But there my wrath was cheated of its due
By overhaste.
I smote them with the sword,
I slaughtered them before the sacred shrine,
And with their blood appeased our household gods;
I hewed their lifeless bodies limb from limb;
I carved them into bits, and part I seethed
In brazen kettles, part before the fire
On spits I roasted. From their living limbs
I carved the tender flesh, and saw it hiss
And sputter on the slender spit, the while
With my own hands I kept the fire a-blaze.
But all these things the father should have done.
In this my vengeful grief has fallen short.
With impious teeth he tore his slaughtered sons;
But still in merciful unconsciousness
The deed was done and suffered.

THYESTES.
O ye seas,
Hemmed round by curving shores, give ear to this!
Hear too, ye gods, wherever ye have fled.
Ye lords of hades, hear; hear, O ye lands;
And Night, all black and heavy with the pall
Of Tartarus, attend unto my cry;
For I am left to thee, and thou alone
Doth look in pity on my wretchedness,
Thou, too, forsaken of the friendly stars;
For I will raise no wicked prayers to thee,
Naught for myself implore--what could I ask?
For you, ye heavenly gods, be all my prayers.
O thou, almighty ruler of the sky,
Who sitt'st as lord upon the throne of heaven,
Enwrap the universe in dismal clouds,
Incite the winds to war on every side,
And let thy thunders crash from pole to pole;
Not with such lesser bolts as thou dost use
Against the guiltless homes of common men,
But those which overthrew the triple mass
Of heaped-up mountains, and those giant forms,
Themselves like mountains huge: such arms employ;
Hurl down such fires. Avenge the banished day;
With thy consuming flames supply the light
Which has been snatched from out the darkened heaven.
Select us both as objects of thy wrath;
Or if not both, then me; aim thou at me.
With that three-forkéd bolt of thine transfix
My guilty breast. If I would give my sons
To burning and to fitting burial,
I must myself be burned. But if my prayers
Do not with heaven prevail, and if no god
Aims at the impious his fatal shaft;
Then may eternal night brood o'er the earth,
And hide these boundless crimes in endless shade.
If thou, O sun, dost to thy purpose hold,
And cease to shine, I supplicate no more.

ATREUS.
Now do I praise my handiwork indeed;
Now have I gained the palm of victory.
My deed had failed entirely of its aim,
Didst thou not suffer thus. Now may I trust
That those I call my sons are truly so,
And faith that once my marriage bed was pure
Has come again.

THYESTES.
What was my children's sin?

ATREUS.
Because they were thy children.

THYESTES.
But to think
That children to the father--

ATREUS.
That indeed,
I do confess it, gives me greatest joy:
That thou art well assured they were thy sons.

THYESTES.
I call upon the gods of innocence--

ATREUS.
Why not upon the gods of marriage call?

THYESTES.
Why dost thou seek to punish crime with crime?

ATREUS.
Well do I know the cause of thy complaint:
Because I have forestalled thee in the deed.
Thou grievest, not because thou hast consumed
This horrid feast, but that thou wast not first
To set it forth. This was thy fell intent,
To arrange a feast like this unknown to me,
And with their mother's aid attack my sons,
And with a like destruction lay them low.
But this one thing opposed--thou thought'st them thine.

THYESTES.
The gods will grant me vengeance. Unto them
Do I intrust thy fitting penalty.

ATREUS.
And to thy sons do I deliver thee.