Читать книгу Yale Required Reading - Collected Works (Vol. 2) - Луций Анней Сенека - Страница 113

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Born on Pelion height, so legend hoary relateth,

Pines once floated adrift on Neptune billowy streaming

On to the Phasis flood, to the borders Æætean.

Then did a chosen array, rare bloom of valorous Argos,

Fain from Colchian earth her fleece of glory to ravish,

Dare with a keel of swiftness adown salt seas to be fleeting,

Swept with fir-blades oary the fair level azure of Ocean.

Then that deity bright, who keeps in cities her high ward,

Made to delight them a car, to the light breeze airily scudding,

Texture of upright pine with a keel's curved rondure uniting.

That first sailer of all burst ever on Amphitrite.

Scarcely the forward snout tore up that wintery water,

Scarcely the wave foamed white to the reckless harrow of oarsmen,

Straight from amid white eddies arose wild faces of Ocean,

Nereid, earnest-eyed, in wonderous admiration.

Then, not after again, saw ever mortal unharmed

Sea-born Nymphs unveil limbs flushing naked about them.

Stark to the nursing breasts from foam and billow arising.

Then, so stories avow, burn'd Peleus hotly to Thetis,

Then to a mortal lover abode not Thetis unheeding,

Then did a father agree Peleus with Thetis unite him.

O in an aureat hour, O born in bounteous ages,

God-sprung heroes, hail: hail, mother of all benediction,

You my song shall address, you melodies everlasting.

Thee most chiefly, supreme in glory of heavenly bridal,

Peleus, stately defence of Thessaly. Iuppiter even

Gave thee his own fair love, thy mortal pleasure approving.

Thee could Thetis inarm, most beauteous Ocean-daughter?

Tethys adopt thee, her own dear grandchild's wooer usurping?

Ocean, who earth's vast globe with a watery girdle inorbeth?

When the delectable hour those days did fully determine,

Straightway then in crowds all Thessaly flock'd to the palace,

Thronging hosts uncounted, a company joyous approaching.

Many a gift they carry, delight their faces illumines.

Left is Scyros afar, and Phthia's bowery Tempe,

Vacant Crannon's homes, unvisited high Larisa,

Towards Pharsalia's halls, Pharsalia's only they hie them.

Bides no tiller afield; necks soften of oxen in idlesse;

Feel not a prong'd crook'd hoe lush vines all weedily trailing;

Tears no steer deep clods with a downward coulter unearthed;

Prunes no hedger's bill broad-verging verdurous arbours;

Steals a deforming rust on ploughs left rankly to moulder.

But that sovran abode, each sumptuous inly retiring

Chamber, aflame with gold, with silver is all resplendent;

Thrones gleam ivory-white; cup-crown'd blaze brightly the tables;

All the domain with treasure of empery gaudily flushes.

There, set deeply within the remotest centre, a bridal

Bed doth a goddess inarm; smooth ivory glossy from Indies,

Robed in roseate hues, rich seashells' purple adorning.

It was a broidery freak'd with tissue of images olden,

One whose curious art did blazon valour of heroes.

Gazing forth from a beach of Dia the billow-resounding,

Look'd on a vanish'd fleet, on Theseus quickly departing,

Restless in unquell'd passion, a feverous heart, Ariadne.

Scarcely her eyes yet seem their seeming clearly to vision.

You might guess that arous'd from slumber's drowsy betrayal,

Sand-engirded, alone, then first she knew desolation.

He the betrayer—his oars with fugitive hurry the waters

Beat, each promise of old to the winds given idly to bear them.

Him from amid shore-weeds doth Minos' daughter, in anguish

Rigid, a Bacchant-form, dim-gazing stonily follow,

Stonily still, wave-tost on a sea of troublous affliction.

Holds not her yellow locks the tiara's feathery tissue;

Veils not her hidden breast light brede of drapery woven;

Binds not a cincture smooth her bosom's orbed emotion.

Widely from each fair limb that footward-fallen apparel

Drifts its lady before, in billowy salt loose-playing.

Not for silky tiara nor amice gustily floating

Recks she at all any more; thee, Theseus, ever her earnest

Heart, all clinging thought, all chained fancy requireth.

Ah unfortunate! whom with miseries ever crazing,

Thorns in her heart deep planted, affray'd Erycina to madness,

From that earlier hour, when fierce for victory Theseus

Started alert from a beach deep-inleted of Piræus,

Gain'd Gortyna's abode, injurious halls of oppression.

Once, 'tis sung in stories, a dire distemper atoning

Death of an ill-blest prince, Androgeos, angrily slaughter'd,

Taxed of her youthful array, her maidenly bloom fresh-glowing,

Feast to the monster bull, Cecropia, ransom-laden.

Then, when a plague so deadly, the garrison undermining,

Spent that slender city, his Athens dearly to rescue,

Sooner life Theseus and precious body did offer,

Ere his country to Crete freight corpses, a life in seeming.

So with a ship fast-fleeted, a gale blown gently behind him,

Push'd he his onward journey to Minos' haughty dominion.

Him for very delight when a virgin fondly desiring

Gazed on, a royal virgin, in odours silkily nestled,

Pure from a maiden's couch, from a mother's pillowy bosom,

Like some myrtle, anear Eurotas' water arising,

Like earth's myriad hues, spring's progeny, rais'd to the breezes;

Droop'd not her eyes their gaze unquenchable, ever-burning

Save when in each charm'd limb to the depths enfolded, a sudden

Flame blazed hotly within her, in all her marrow abiding.

O thou cruel of heart, thou madding worker of anguish,

Boy immortal, of whom joy springs with misery blending,

Yea, thou queen of Golgi, of Idaly leaf-embower'd,

O'er what a fire love-lit, what billows wearily tossing,

Drave ye the maid, for a guest so sunnily lock'd deep sighing.

What most dismal alarms her swooning fancy did echo!

Oft what a sallower hue than gold's cold glitter upon her!

Whiles, heart-hungry in arms that monster deadly to combat,

Theseus drew towards death or victory, guerdon of honour.

Yet not lost the devotion, or offer'd idly the virgin's

Gifts, as her unvoic'd lips breathed incense faintly to heaven.

As on Taurus aloft some oak agitatedly waving

Tosses his arms, or a pine cone-mantled, oozily rinded,

When as his huge gnarled trunk in furious eddies a whirlwind

Riving wresteth amain; down falleth he, upward hoven,

Falleth on earth; far, near, all crackles brittle around him,

So to the ground Theseus his fallen foeman abasing,

Slew, that his horned front toss'd vainly, a sport to the breezes.

Thence in safety, a victor, in height of glory returned,

Guiding errant feet to a thread's impalpable order.

Lest, upon egress bent thro' tortuous aisles labyrinthine,

Walls of blindness, a maze unravell'd ever, elude him.

Yet, for again I come to the former story, beseems not

Linger on all done there; how left that daughter a gazing

Father, a sister's arms, her mother woefully clinging,

Mother, who o'er that child moan'd desperate, all heart-broken;

How not in home that maid, in Theseus only delighted;

How her ship on a shore of foaming Dia did harbour;

How, when her eyes lay bound in slumber's shadowy prison,

He forsook, forgot her, a wooer traitorous-hearted:

Oft, say stories, at heart with frenzied fantasy burning,

Pour'd she, a deep-wrung breast, clear-ringing cries of oppression;

Sometimes mournfully clomb to the mountain's rugged ascension,

Straining thence her vision across wide surges of ocean;

Now to the brine ran forth, upsplashing freshly to meet her,

Lifting raiment fine her thighs which softly did open;

Last, when sorrow had end, these words thus spake she lamenting,

While from a mouth tear-stain'd chill sobs gushed dolorous ever.

'Look, is it here, false heart, that rapt from country, from altar,

Household altar ashore, I wander, falsely deserted?

Ah! is it hence, Theseus, that against high heaven a traitor

Homeward thou thy vileness, alas thy perjury bearest?

Might not a thought, one thought, thy cruel counsel abating

Sway thee tender? at heart rose no compassion or any

Mercy, to bend thy soul, or me for pity deliver?

Yet not this thy promise of old, thy dearly remembered

Voice, not these the delights thou bad'st thy poor one inherit;

Nay, but wedlock happy, but envied joy hymeneal;

All now melted in air, with a light wind emptily fleeting.

Let not a woman trust, since that first treason, a lover's

Desperate oath, none hope true lover's promise is earnest.

They, while fondly to win their amorous humour essayeth,

Fear no covetous oath, all false free promises heed not;

They if once lewd pleasure attain unruly possession,

Lo they fear not promise, of oath or perjury reck not.

Yet indeed, yet I, when floods of death were around thee,

Set thee on high, did rather a brother choose to defend not,

Ere I, in hate's last hour, false heart, fail'd thee to deliver.

Now, for a goodly reward, to the beasts they give me, the flying

Fowls; no handful of earth shall bury me, pass'd to the shadows.

What grim lioness yeaned thee, aneath what rock's desolation?

What wild sea did bear, what billows foamy regorged thee?

Seething sand, or Scylla the snare, or lonely Charybdis?

If for a life's dear joy comes back such only requital?

Hadst not a will with spousal an honour'd wife to receive me?

Awed thee a father stern, cross age's churlish avising?

Yet to your household thou, your kindred palaces olden,

Might'st have led me, to wait, joy-filled, a retainer upon thee,

Now in waters clear thy feet like ivory laving,

Clothing now thy bed with crimson's gorgeous apparel.

Yet to the brutish winds why moan I longer unheeded,

Crazy with an ill wrong? They senseless, voiceless, inhuman

Utter'd cry they hear not, in answers hollow reply not.

He rides far already, the mid sea's boundary cleaving,

Strays no mortal along these weeds stretched lonely about me.

Thus to my utmost need chance, spitefuller injury dealing,

Grudges an ear, where yet might lamentation have entry.

Jove, almighty, supreme, O would that never in early

Time on Gnossian earth great Cecrops' navies had harbour'd,

Ne'er to that unquell'd bull with a ransom of horror atoning,

Moor'd on Crete his cable a shipman's wily dishonour.

Never in youth's fair shape such ruthless stratagem hiding

He, that vile one, a guest found with us a safe habitation.

Whither flee then afar? what hope, poor lost one, upholds thee?

Mountains Idomenean? alas, broad surges of ocean

Part us, a rough rude space of flowing water, asunder.

Trust in a father's help? how trust, whom darkly deserting,

Him I turned to alone, my brother's bloody defier?

Nay, but a loyal lover, a hand pledg'd surely, shall ease me.

Surely; for o'er wide water his oars move flexibly fleeting.

Also a desert lies this region, a tenantless island,

Nowhere open way, seas splash in circle around me,

Nowhere flight, no glimmer of hope; all mournfully silent,

Loneliness all, all points me to death, death only remaining.

Yet these luminous orbs shall sink not feebly to darkness,

Yet from grief-worn limbs shall feeling wholly depart not,

Till to the gods I cry, the betrayed, for justice on evil,

Sue for life's last mercy the great federation of heaven.

Then, O sworn to requite man's evil wrathfully, Powers

Gracious, on whose grim brows, with viper tresses inorbed,

Looks red-breathing forth your bosom's feverous anger;

Now, yea now come surely, to these loud miseries harken,

All I cry, the afflicted, of inmost marrow arising,

Desolate, hot with pain, with blinding fury bewilder'd.

Yet, for of heart they spring, grief's children truly begotten,

Verily, Gods, these moans you will not idly to perish.

But with counsel of evil as he forsook me deceiving,

Death to his house, to his heart, bring also counsel of evil.

When from an anguish'd heart these words stream'd sorrowful upwards,

Words which on iron deeds did sue for deadly requital,

Bow'd with a nod of assent almighty the ruler of heaven.

With that dreadful motion aneath earth's hollow, the ruffled

Ocean shook, and stormy the stars 'gan tremble in ether.

Thereto his heart thick-sown with blindness cloudily dark'ning,

Thought not of all those words, Theseus, from memory fallen,

Words which his heedful soul had kept immovable ever.

Nor to his eager sire fair token of happy returning

Rais'd, when his eyes safe-sighted Erectheus' populous haven.

Once, so stories tell, when Pallas' city behind him

Leaving, Theseus' fleet to the winds given hopefully parted,

Clasping then his son spake Aegeus, straitly commanding.

Son, mine only delight, than life more lovely to gaze on,

Son, whom needs it faints me to launch full-tided on hazards,

Whom my winter of years hath laid so lately before me:

Since my fate unkindly, thy own fierce valour unheeding,

Needs must wrest thee away, ere yet these dimly-lit eye-balls

Feed to the full on thee, thy worshipt body beholding;

Neither in exultation of heart I send thee a-warring;

Nor to the fight shalt bear fair fortune's happier earnest;

Rather, first in cries mine heart shall lighten her anguish,

When greylocks I sully with earth, with sprinkle of ashes;

Next to the swaying mast shall a sail hang duskily swinging;

So this grief, mine own, this burning sorrow within me,

Want not a sign, dark shrouds of Iberia, sombre as iron.

Then, if haply the queen, lone ranger on haunted Itonus,

Pleas'd to defend our people, Erectheus' safe habitations,

Frown not, allow thine hand that bull all redly to slaughter,

Look that warily then deep-laid in steady remembrance,

These our words grow greenly, nor age move on to deface them;

Soon as on home's fair hills thine eyes shall signal a welcome,

See that on each straight yard down droop their funeral housings,

Whitely the tight-strung cordage a sparkling canvas aloft swing,

Which to behold straightway with joy shall cheer me, with inward

Joy, when a prosperous hour shall bring to thee happy returning.

So for a while that charge did Theseus faithfully cherish.

Last, it melted away, as a cloud which riven in ether

Breaks to the blast, high peak and spire snow-silvery leaving.

But from a rock's wall'd eyrie the father wistfully gazing,

Father whose eyes, care-dimm'd, wore hourly for ever a-weeping,

Scarcely the wind-puff'd sail from afar 'gan darken upon him,

Down the precipitous heights headlong his body he hurried,

Deeming Theseus surely by hateful destiny taken.

So to a dim death-palace, alert from victory, Theseus

Came, what bitter sorrow to Minos' daughter his evil

Perjury gave, himself with an even sorrow atoning.

She, as his onward keel still moved, still mournfully follow'd;

Passion-stricken, her heart a tumultuous image of ocean.

Also upon that couch, flush'd youthfully, breathless Iacchus

Roam'd with a Satyr-band, with Nisa-begot Sileni;

Seeking thee, Ariadna, aflame thy beauty to ravish.

Wildly behind they rushed and wildly before to the folly,

Euhoe rav'd, Euhoe with fanatic heads gyrated;

Some in womanish hands shook rods cone-wreathed above them,

Some from a mangled steer toss'd flesh yet gorily streaming;

Some girt round them in orbs, snakes gordian, intertwining;

Some with caskets deep did blazon mystical emblems,

Emblems muffled darkly, nor heard of spirit unholy.

Part with a slender palm taborines beat merrily jangling;

Now with a cymbal slim would a sharp shrill tinkle awaken;

Often a trumpeter horn blew murmurous, hoarsely resounding.

Rose on pipes barbaric a jarring music of horror.

Such, wrought rarely, the shapes this quilt did richly apparel,

Where to the couch close-clasped it hung thick veils of adorning.

So to the full heart-sated of all their curious eying,

Thessaly's youth gave place to the Gods high-throned in heaven.

As, when dawn is awake, light Zephyrus even-breathing

Brushes a sleeping sea, which slant-wise curved in edges

Breaks, while mounts Aurora the sun's high journey to welcome;

They, first smitten faintly by his most airy caressing,

Move slow on, light surges a plashing silvery laughter;

Soon with a waxing wind they crowd them apace, thick-fleeting,

Swim in a rose-red glow and far off sparkle in Ocean;

So thro' column'd porch and chambers sumptuous hieing,

Thither or hither away, that company stream'd, home-wending.

First from Pelion height, when they were duly departed,

Chiron came, in his hand green gifts of flowery forest.

All that on earth's leas blooms, what blossoms Thessaly nursing

Breeds on mountainous heights, what near each showery river

Swells to the warm west-wind, in gales of foison alighting;

These did his own hands bear in girlonds twined of all hues,

That to the perfume sweet for joy laugh'd gaily the palace.

Follow'd straight Penios, awhile his bowery Tempe,

Tempe, shrined around in shadowy woods o'erhanging,

Left to the bare-limb'd maids Magnesian, airily ranging.

No scant carrier he; tall root-torn beeches his heavy

Burden, bays stemm'd stately, in heights exalted ascending.

Thereto the nodding plane, and that lithe sister of youthful

Phaethon flame-enwrapt, and cypress in air upspringing:

These in breadths inwoven he heap'd close-twin'd to the palace,

Whereto the porch wox green, with soft leaves canopied over.

Him did follow anear, deep heart and wily, Prometheus,

Scarr'd and wearing yet dim traces of early dishonour,

All which of old his body to flint fast-welded in iron,

Bore and dearly abied, on slippery crags suspended.

Last with his awful spouse, with children goodly, the sovran

Father approach'd; thou, Phoebus, alone, his warder in heaven,

Left, with that dear sister, on Idrus ranger eternal.

Peleus sister alike and brother in high misprision

Held, nor lifted a torch when Thetis wedded at even.

So when on ivory thrones they rested, snowily gleaming,

Many a feast high-pil'd did load each table about them;

Whiles to a tremor of age their gray infirmity rocking,

Busy began that chant which speaketh surely the Parcae.

Round them a folding robe their weak limbs aguish hiding,

Fell bright-white to the feet, with a purple border of issue.

Wreaths sat on each hoar crown, whose snows flush'd rosy beneath them;

Still each hand fulfilled its pious labour eternal.

Singly the left upbore in wool soft-hooded a distaff,

Whereto the right large threads down drawing deftly, with upturn'd

Fingers shap'd them anew; then thumbs earth-pointed in even

Balance twisted a spindle on orb'd wheels smoothly rotating.

So clear'd softly between and tooth-nipt even it ever

Onward moved; still clung on wan lips, sodden as ashes,

Shreds all woolly from out that soft smooth surface arisen.

Lastly before their feet lay fells, white, fleecy, refulgent,

Warily guarded they in baskets woven of osier.

They, as on each light tuft their voice smote louder approaching,

Pour'd grave inspiration, a prophet chant to the future,

Chant which an after-time shall tax of vanity never.

O in valorous acts thy wondrous glory renewing,

Rich Aemathia's arm, great sire of a goodlier issue,

Hark on a joyous day what prophet-story the sisters

Open surely to thee; and you, what followeth after,

Guide to a long-drawn thread and run with destiny, spindles.

Soon shall approach, and bear the delight long-wish'd for of husbands,

Hesper, a bride shall approach in starlight happy presented,

Softly to sway thy soul in love's completion abiding,

Soon in a trance with thee of slumber dreamy to mingle,

Making smooth round arms thy clasp'd throat sinewy pillow.

Trail ye a long-drawn thread and run with destiny, spindles.

Never hath house closed yet o'er loves so blissful uniting,

Never love so well his children in harmony knitten,

So as Thetis agrees, as Peleus bendeth according.

Trail ye a long-drawn thread and run with destiny, spindles.

You shall a son see born that knows not terror, Achilles,

One whose back no foe, whose front each knoweth in onset;

Often a conqueror, he, where feet course swiftly together,

Steps of a fire-fleet doe shall leave in his hurry behind him.

Trail ye a long-drawn thread and run with destiny, spindles.

Him to resist in war, no champion hero ariseth,

Then on Phrygian earth when carnage Trojan is utter'd;

Then when a long sad strife shall Troy's crown'd city beleaguer,

Waste her a third false heir from Pelops wary descending.

Trail ye a long-drawn thread and run with destiny, spindles.

His unmatchable acts, his deeds of glorious honour,

Oft shall mothers speak o'er sons untimely departed;

While from crowns earth-bow'd fall loosen'd silvery tresses,

Beat on shrivell'd breasts weak palms their dusky defacing.

Trail ye a long-drawn thread and run with destiny, spindles.

As some labourer ears close-cluster'd lustily lopping,

Under a flaming sun, mows fields ripe-yellow in harvest,

So, in fury of heart, shall death's stern reaper, Achilles, Charge Troy's children afield and fell them grimly with iron. Trail ye a long-drawn thread and run with destiny, spindles.

Deeds of such high glory Scamander's river avoucheth,

Hurried in eddies afar thro' boisterous Hellespontus;

Then when a slaughter'd heap his pathway watery choking,

Brimmeth a warm red tide and blood with water allieth.

Trail ye a long-drawn thread and run with destiny, spindles.

Voucher of him last riseth a prey untimely devoted

E'en to the tomb, which mounded in heaps, high, spherical, earthen,

Grants to the snow-white limbs, to the stricken maiden a welcome.

Trail ye a long-drawn thread and run with destiny, spindles.

Scarcely the war-worn Greeks shall win such favour of heaven,

Neptune's bonds of stone from Dardan city to loosen,

Dankly that high-heav'd grave shall gory Polyxena crimson.

She as a lamb falls smitten a twin-edg'd falchion under,

Boweth on earth weak knees, her limbs down flingeth unheeding.

Trail ye a long-drawn thread and run with destiny, spindles.

Up then, fair paramours, in fond love happily mingle.

Now in blessed treaty the bridegroom welcome a goddess;

Now give a bride long-veil'd to her husband's passionate yearning.

Trail ye a long-drawn thread and run with destiny, spindles.

Her when duly the nurse with day-light early revisits,

Necklace of yester-night—she shall not clasp it about her.

Trail ye a long-drawn thread and run with destiny, spindles.

Nor shall a mother fond, o'er brawls unlovely dishearten'd,

Lay her alone, or cease the delight of children awaiting.

Trail ye a long-drawn thread and run with destiny, spindles.

In such prelude old, such good-night ditty to Peleus,

Sang their deep divination, ineffable, holy, the Parcae.

Such as in ages past, upon houses godly descending,

Houses of heroes came, in mortal company present,

Gods high-throned in heaven, while yet was worship in honour.

Often a sovran Jove, in his own bright temple appearing,

Yearly, whene'er his day did rites ceremonial usher,

Gazed on an hundred slain, on strong bulls heavily falling.

Often on high Parnassus a roving Liber in hurried

Frenzy the Thyiads drave, their locks blown loosely, before him.

While all Delphi's city in eager jealousy trooping,

Blithely receiv'd their god on fuming festival altars.

Mavors often amidst encounter mortal of armies,

Streaming Triton's queen, or maid Ramnusian awful,

Stood in body before them, a fainting host to deliver.

Only when heinous sin earth's wholesome purity blasted,

When from covetous hearts fled justice sadly retreating,

Then did a brother his hands dye deep in blood of a brother,

Lightly the son forgat his parents' piteous ashes.

Lightly the son's young grave his father pray'd for, an unwed

Maiden, a step-dame fair in freer luxury clasping.

Then did mother unholy to son that knew not abase her,

Shamefully, fear'd not unholy the blessed dead to dishonour.

Human, inhuman alike, in wayward infamy blending,

Turned far from us away that righteous counsel of heaven.

Therefore proudly the Gods such sinful company view not,

Bear not day-light clear upon immortality breathing.