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Page 29
CHORUS.
I see a faint fire lightening from the hall.
ALTHAEA.
Gaze, stretch your eyes, strain till the lids drop off.
CHORUS.
Flushed pillars down the flickering vestibule.
ALTHAEA.
Stretch with your necks like birds: cry, chirp as they.
CHORUS.
And a long brand that blackens: and white dust
ALTHAEA.
O children, what is this ye see? your eyes
Are blinder than night's face at fall of moon.
That is my son, my flesh, my fruit of life,
My travail, and the year's weight of my womb,
Meleager, a fire enkindled of mine hands
And of mine hands extinguished, this is he.
CHORUS.
O gods, what word has flown out at thy mouth?
ALTHAEA.
I did this and I say this and I die.
CHORUS.
Death stands upon the doorway of thy lips,
And in thy mouth has death set up his house.
ALTHAEA.
O death, a little, a little while, sweet death,
Until I see the brand burnt down and die.
CHORUS.
She reels as any reed under the wind,
And cleaves unto the ground with staggering feet.
ALTHAEA.
Girls, one thing will I say and hold my peace.
I that did this will weep not nor cry out,
Cry ye and weep: I will not call on gods,
Call ye on them; I will not pity man,
Shew ye your pity. I know not if I live;
Save that I feel the fire upon my face
And on my cheek the burning of a brand.
Yea the smoke bites me, yea I drink the steam
With nostril and with eyelid and with lip
Insatiate and intolerant; and mine hands
Burn, and fire feeds upon mine eyes; I reel
As one made drunk with living, whence he draws
Drunken delight; yet I, though mad for joy,
Loathe my long living and am waxen red
As with the shadow of shed blood; behold,
I am kindled with the flames that fade in him,
I am swollen with subsiding of his veins,
I am flooded with his ebbing; my lit eyes
Flame with the falling fire that leaves his lids
Bloodless, my cheek is luminous with blood
Because his face is ashen. Yet, O child,
Son, first-born, fairest--O sweet mouth, sweet eyes,
That drew my life out through my suckling breast,
That shone and clove mine heart through--O soft knees
Clinging, O tender treadings of soft feet,
Cheeks warm with little kissings--O child, child,
What have we made each other? Lo, I felt
Thy weight cleave to me, a burden of beauty, O son,
Thy cradled brows and loveliest loving lips,
The floral hair, the little lightening eyes,
And all thy goodly glory; with mine hands
Delicately I fed thee, with my tongue
Tenderly spake, saying, Verily in God's time,
For all the little likeness of thy limbs,
Son, I shall make thee a kingly man to fight,
A lordly leader; and hear before I die,
'She bore the goodliest sword of all the world.'
Oh! oh! For all my life turns round on me;
I am severed from myself, my name is gone,
My name that was a healing, it is changed,
My name is a consuming. From this time,
Though mine eyes reach to the end of all these things,
My lips shall not unfasten till I die.
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