I may take? 780 Pr. This was my message, speak and there is fire. In. There shall be fire. Await me here awhile. I go to acquaint my house, and bring them forth.
[Exit.
Chorus.
Hearken, O Argos, hearken!
There will be fire.
And thou, O Earth, give ear!
There will be fire.
Sem. (maidens). Who shall be sent to fetch this fire for the king? Sem. (youths). Shall we put forth in boats to reap, And shall the waves for harvest yield 790 The rootless flames that nimbly leap Upon their ever-shifting field? Sem. (maidens). Or we in olive-groves go shake And beat the fruiting sprays, till all The silv'ry glitter which they make Beneath into our baskets fall? Sem. (youths). To bind in sheaves and bear away The white unshafted darts of day? Sem. (maidens). And from the shadow one by one Pick up the playful oes of sun? 800 Sem. (youths). Or wouldst thou mine a passage deep Until the darksome fire is found, Which prisoned long in seething sleep Vexes the caverns underground? Sem. (maidens). Or bid us join our palms perchance,{27} To cup the slant and chinkèd beam, Which mounting morn hath sent to dance Across our chamber while we dream? Sem. (youths). Say whence and how shall we fetch this fire for the king? Our hope is impatient of vain debating. 810 Sem. (maidens). My heart is stirred at the name of the wondrous thing, And trembles awaiting.
ODE.
A coy inquisitive spirit, the spirit of wonder,
Possesses the child in his cradle, when mortal things
Are new, yet a varied surface and nothing under.
It busies the mind on trifles and toys and brings
Her grasp from nearer to further, from smaller to greater,
And slowly teaches flight to her fledgeling wings.
Where'er she flutters and falls surprises await her:
She soars, and beauty's miracles open in sight, 820
The flowers and trees and beasts of the earth ; and later
The skies of day, the moon and the stars of night;
'Neath which she scarcely venturing goes demurely,
With mystery clad, in the awe of depth and height.
O happy for still unconscious, for ah ! how surely,
How soon and surely will disenchantment come,
When first to herself she boasts to walk securely,
And drives the master spirit away from his home;
Seeing the marvellous things that make the morning
Are marvels of every-day, familiar, and some 830
Have lost with use, like earthly robes, their adorning,
As earthly joys the charm of a first delight,
And some are fallen from awe to neglect and scorning;
Until—
O tarry not long, dear needed sprite!{28}
Till thou, though uninvited, with fancy returnest
To hallow beauty and make the dull heart bright:
To inhabit again thy gladdened kingdom in earnest;
Wherein—
from the smile of beauty afar forecasting
The pleasure of god, thou livest at peace and yearnest
With wonder everlasting. 840
SECOND PART
Re-enter from the palace Inachus, with Argeia and Io.
INACHUS.
That but a small and easy thing now seems,
Which from my house when I came forth at noon
A dream was and beyond the reach of man.
'Tis now a fancy of the will, a word,
Liberty's lightest prize. Yet still as one
Who loiters on the threshold of delight,
Delaying pleasure for the love of pleasure,
I dally—Come, Argeia, and share my triumph!
And set our daughter by thee; though her eyes
Are young, there are no eyes this day so young 850
As shall forget this day—while one thing more
I ask of thee; this evil, will it light
On me or on my house or on mankind?
Pr. Scarce on mankind, O Inachus, for Zeus
A second time failing will not again
Measure his spite against their better fate.
And now the terror, which awhile o'er Earth
Its black wings spread, shall up to Heaven ascend
And gnaw the tyrant's heart: for there is whispered
A word gone forth to scare the mighty gods; 860
How one must soon be born, and born of men,{29}
Who shall drive out their impious host from heaven,
And from their skyey dwellings rule mankind
In truth and love. So scarce on man will fall
This evil, nay, nor on thyself, O king;
Thy name shall live an honoured name in Greece.
In. Then on my house 'twill be. Know'st thou no more?
Pr. Know I no more? Ay, if my purpose fail
'Tis not for lack of knowing: if I suffer,
'Tis not that poisonous fear hath slurred her task, 870
Or let brave resolution walk unarmed.
My ears are callous to the threats of Zeus,
The direful penalties his oath hath laid
On every good that I in heart and hand
Am sworn to accomplish, and for all his threats,
Lest their accomplishment should outrun mine,
Am bound the more. Nay,
