Helen of Troy Part 2

XLV.

"'For, lo! to-night within the forest dim Do Aphrodite and Athene meet, And Hera, who to thee shall bare each limb, Each grace from golden head to ivory feet, And thee, fair shepherd Paris, they entreat As thou 'mongst men art beauteous, to declare Which Queen of Queens immortal is most sweet, And doth deserve the meed of the most fair.

XLVI.

"'For late between them rose a bitter strife In Peleus' halls upon his wedding day, When Peleus took him an immortal wife, And there was bidden all the G.o.d's array, Save Discord only; yet she brought dismay, And cast an apple on the bridal board, With "Let the fairest bear the prize away"

Deep on its golden rind and gleaming scored.

XLVII.

"'Now in the sudden night, whenas the sun In Tethys' silver arms hath slept an hour, Shalt thou be had into the forest dun, And brought unto a dark enchanted bower, And there of G.o.ddesses behold the flower With very beauty burning in the night, And these will offer Wisdom, Love, and Power; Then, Paris, be thou wise, and choose aright!'

XLVIII.

"He spake, and pa.s.s'd, and Night without a breath, Without a star drew on; and now I heard The voice that in the springtime wandereth, The crying of Dame Hera's shadowy bird; And soon the silence of the trees was stirred By the wise fowl of Pallas; and anigh, More sweet than is a girl's first loving word, The doves of Aphrodite made reply.

XLIX.

"These voices did I follow through the trees, Threading the coppice 'neath a starless sky, When, lo! the very Queen of G.o.ddesses, In golden beauty gleaming wondrously, Even she that hath the Heaven for canopy, And in the arms of mighty Zeus doth sleep,-- And then for dread methought that I must die, But Hera called me with soft voice and deep:

L.

"'Paris, give me the prize, and thou shalt reign O'er many lordly peoples, far and wide, From them that till the black and crumbling plain, Where the sweet waters of Aegyptus glide, To those that on the Northern marches ride, And the Ceteians, and the blameless men That round the rising-place of Morn abide, And all the dwellers in the Asian fen.

LI.

"'And I will love fair Ilios as I love Argos and rich Mycenae, that doth h.o.a.rd Deep wealth; and I will make thee king above A hundred peoples; men shall call thee lord In tongues thou know'st not; thou shalt be adored With sacrifice, as are the G.o.ds divine, If only thou wilt speak a little word, And say the prize of loveliness is mine.'

LII.

"Then, as I doubted, like a sudden flame Of silver came Athene, and methought Beholding her, how stately, as she came, That dim wood to a fragrant fane was wrought; So pure the warlike maiden seem'd, that nought But her own voice commanding made me raise Mine eyes to see her beauty, who besought In briefest words the guerdon of all praise.

LIII.

"She spake: 'Nor wealth nor crowns are in my gift; But wisdom, but the eyes that glance afar, But courage, and the spirit that is swift To cleave her path through all the waves of war; Endurance that the Fates can never mar; These, and my loving friendship,--these are thine, And these shall guide thee, steadfast as a star, If thou hast eyes to know the prize is mine.'

LIV.

"Last, in a lovely mist of rosy fire, Came Aphrodite through the forest glade, The queen of all delight and all desire, More fair than when her naked foot she laid On the blind mere's wild wave that sank dismay'd, What time the sea grew smoother than a lake; I was too happy to be sore afraid.

And like a song her voice was when she spake:

LV.

"'Oh Paris, what is power? Tantalus And Sisyphus were kings long time ago, But now they lie in the Lake Dolorous, The hills of h.e.l.l are noisy with their woe; Ay, swift the tides of Empire ebb and flow, And that is quickly lost was hardly won, As Ilios herself o'erwell did know When high walls help'd not King Laomedon.

LVI.

"'And what are strength and courage? for the child Of mighty Zeus, the strong man Herakles, Knew many days and evil, ere men piled The pyre in Oeta, where he got his ease In death, where all the ills of brave men cease.

Nay, Love I proffer thee; beyond the brine Of all the currents of the Western seas, The fairest woman in the world is thine!'

LVII.

"She spake, and touched the prize, and all grew dim I heard no voice of anger'd Deity, But round me did the night air swoon and swim, And, when I waken'd, lo! the sun was high, And in that place accursed did I lie, Where Agelaus found the naked child; Then with swift foot I did arise and fly Forth from the deeps of that enchanted wild.

LVIII.

"And down I sped to Ilios, down the dell Where, years agone, the white bull guided me, And through green boughs beheld where foam'd and fell The merry waters of the Western sea; Of Love the sweet birds sang from sky and tree, And swift I reach'd the haven and the sh.o.r.e, And call'd my mariners, and follow'd free Where Love might lead across the waters h.o.a.r.

LIX.

"Three days with fair winds ran we, then we drave Before the North that made the long waves swell Round Malea; but hardly from the wave We 'scaped at Pylos, Nestor's citadel; And there the son of Neleus loved us well, And brought us to the high prince, Diocles, Who led us. .h.i.ther, and it thus befell That here, below thy roof, we sit at ease."

LX.

Then all men gave the stranger thanks and praise, And Menelaus for red wine bade call; And the sun fell, and dark were all the ways; Then maidens set forth braziers in the hall, And heap'd them high with lighted brands withal; But Helen pa.s.s'd, as doth the fading day Pa.s.s from the world, and softly left them all Loud o'er their wine amid the twilight grey.

LXI.

So night drew on with rain, nor yet they ceased Within the hall to drink the gleaming wine, And late they pour'd the last cup of the feast, To Argus-bane, the Messenger divine; And last, 'neath torches tall that smoke and shine, The maidens strew'd the beds with purple o'er, That Diocles and Paris might recline All night, beneath the echoing corridor.

BOOK II--THE SPELL OF APHRODITE

The coming of Aphrodite, and how she told Helen that she must depart in company with Paris, but promised withal that Helen, having fallen into a deep sleep, should awake forgetful of her old life, and ignorant of her shame, and blameless of those evil deeds that the G.o.ddess thrust upon her.

I.

Now in the upper chamber o'er the gate Lay Menelaus on his carven bed, And swift and sudden as the stroke of Fate A deep sleep fell upon his weary head.

But the soft-winged G.o.d with wand of lead Came not near Helen; wistful did she lie, Till dark should change to grey, and grey to red, And golden throned Morn sweep o'er the sky.

II.

Slow pa.s.s'd the heavy night: like one who fears The step of murder, she lies quivering, If any cry of the night bird she hears; And strains her eyes to mark some dreadful thing, If but the curtains of the window swing, Stirr'd by the breath of night, and still she wept As she were not the daughter of a king, And no strong king, her lord, beside her slept.

III.

Now in that hour, the folk who watch the night, Shepherds and fishermen, and they that ply Strange arts and seek their spells in the star-light, Beheld a marvel in the sea and sky, For all the waves of all the seas that sigh Between the straits of h.e.l.le and the Nile, Flush'd with a flame of silver suddenly, From soft Cythera to the Cyprian isle.

IV.

And Hesperus, the kindest star of heaven, That bringeth all things good, wax'd pale, and straight There fell a flash of white malignant levin Among the gleaming waters desolate; The lights of sea and sky did mix and mate And change to rosy flame, and thence did fly The lovely Queen of Love that turns to hate, Like summer lightnings 'twixt the sea and sky.

V.

And now the bower of Helen fill'd with light, And now she knew the thing that she did fear Was close upon her (for the black of night Doth burn like fire, whene'er the G.o.ds are near); Then shone like flame each helm and shield and spear That hung within the chamber of the King, But he,--though all the bower as day was clear,-- Slept as they sleep that know no wakening.