Poetical Works of Matthew Arnold Part 53

Rights unconceded and denied, Surely, if rights, may be by force a.s.serted-- May be, nay should, if for the general weal.

The best, then, to the throne may carve his way, And strike opposers down, Free from all guilt of lawlessness, Or selfish l.u.s.t of personal power; Bent only to serve virtue, Bent to diminish wrong.

And truly, in this ill-ruled world, _ant._ 3.

Well sometimes may the good desire To give to virtue her dominion due!

Well may he long to interrupt The reign of folly, usurpation ever, Though fenced by sanction of a thousand years!

Well thirst to drag the wrongful ruler down; Well purpose to pen back Into the narrow path of right The ignorant, headlong mult.i.tude, Who blindly follow, ever, Blind leaders, to their bane!

But who can say, without a fear: _str._ 4.

_That best, who ought to rule, am I;_ _The mob, who ought to obey, are these;_ _I the one righteous, they the many bad?_ Who, without check of conscience, can aver That he to power makes way by arms, Sheds blood, imprisons, banishes, attaints, Commits all deeds the guilty oftenest do, Without a single guilty thought, Arm'd for right only, and the general good?

Therefore, with censure unallay'd, _ant._ 4.

Therefore, with unexcepting ban, Zeus and pure-thoughted Justice brand Imperious self-a.s.serting violence; Sternly condemn the too bold man, who dares Elect himself Heaven's destined arm; And, knowing well man's inmost heart infirm, However n.o.ble the committer be, His grounds however specious shown, Turn with averted eyes from deeds of blood.

Thus, though a woman, I was school'd _epode._ By those whom I revere.

Whether I learnt their lessons well, Or, having learnt them, well apply To what hath in this house befall'n, If in the event be any proof, The event will quickly show.

[aePYTUS _comes in_.

_aepytus_

Maidens, a.s.sure me if they told me true Who told me that the royal house was here.

_The Chorus_

Rightly they told thee, and thou art arrived.

_aepytus_

Here, then, it is, where Polyphontes dwells?

_The Chorus_

He doth; thou hast both house and master right.

_aepytus_

Might some one straight inform him he is sought?

_The Chorus_

Inform him that thyself, for here he comes.

[POLYPHONTES _comes forth, with_ ATTENDANTS _and_ GUARDS.

_aepytus_

O King, all hail! I come with weighty news; Most likely, grateful; but, in all case, sure.

_Polyphontes_

Speak them, that I may judge their kind myself.

_aepytus_

Accept them in one word, for good or bad: aepytus, the Messenian prince, is dead!

_Polyphontes_

Dead!--and when died he? where? and by what hand?

And who art thou, who bringest me such news?

_aepytus_

He perish'd in Arcadia, where he dwelt With Cypselus; and two days since he died.

One of the train of Cypselus am I.

_Polyphontes_

Instruct me of the manner of his death.

_aepytus_

That will I do, and to this end I came.

For, being of like age, of birth not mean, The son of an Arcadian n.o.ble, I Was chosen his companion from a boy; And on the hunting-rambles which his heart, Unquiet, drove him ever to pursue Through all the lordships of the Arcadian dales, From chief to chief, I wander'd at his side, The captain of his squires, and his guard.

On such a hunting-journey, three morns since, With beaters, hounds, and huntsmen, he and I Set forth from Tegea, the royal town.

The prince at start seem'd sad, but his regard Clear'd with blithe travel and the morning air.

We rode from Tegea, through the woods of oaks, Past Arne spring, where Rhea gave the babe Poseidon to the shepherd-boys to hide From Saturn's search among the new-yean'd lambs, To Mantineia, with its unbaked walls; Thence, by the Sea-G.o.d's Sanctuary and the tomb Whither from wintry Maenalus were brought The bones of Arcas, whence our race is named, On, to the marshy Orchomenian plain, And the Stone Coffins;--then, by Caphyae Cliffs, To Pheneos with its craggy citadel.

There, with the chief of that hill-town, we lodged One night; and the next day at dawn fared on By the Three Fountains and the Adder's Hill To the Stymphalian Lake, our journey's end, To draw the coverts on Cyllene's side.

There, on a high green spur which bathes its point Far in the liquid lake, we sate, and drew Cates from our hunters' pouch, Arcadian fare, Sweet chestnuts, barley-cakes, and boar's-flesh dried; And as we ate, and rested there, we talk'd Of places we had pa.s.s'd, sport we had had, Of beasts of chase that haunt the Arcadian hills, Wild hog, and bear, and mountain-deer, and roe; Last, of our quarters with the Arcadian chiefs.

For courteous entertainment, welcome warm, Sad, reverential homage, had our prince From all, for his great lineage and his woes; All which he own'd, and praised with grateful mind.

But still over his speech a gloom there hung, As of one shadow'd by impending death; And strangely, as we talk'd, he would apply The story of spots mention'd to his own; Telling us, Arne minded him, he too Was saved a babe, but to a life obscure, Which he, the seed of Heracles, dragg'd on Inglorious, and should drop at last unknown, Even as those dead unepitaph'd, who lie In the stone coffins at Orchomenus.

And, then, he bade remember how we pa.s.s'd The Mantinean Sanctuary, forbid To foot of mortal, where his ancestor, Named aepytus like him, having gone in, Was blinded by the outgushing springs of brine.

Then, turning westward to the Adder's Hill-- _Another ancestor, named, too, like me,_ _Died of a snake-bite_, said he, _on that brow;_ _Still at his mountain-tomb men marvel, built_ _Where, as life ebb'd, his bearers laid him down._ So he play'd on; then ended, with a smile: _This region is not happy for my race._ We cheer'd him; but, that moment, from the copse By the lake-edge, broke the sharp cry of hounds; The p.r.i.c.kers shouted that the stag was gone.

We sprang upon our feet, we s.n.a.t.c.h'd our spears, We bounded down the swarded slope, we plunged Through the dense ilex-thickets to the dogs.

Far in the woods ahead their music rang; And many times that morn we coursed in ring The forests round that belt Cyllene's side; Till I, thrown out and tired, came to halt On that same spur where we had sate at morn.

And resting there to breathe, I watch'd the chase-- Rare, straggling hunters, foil'd by brake and crag, And the prince, single, pressing on the rear Of that unflagging quarry and the hounds.

Now in the woods far down I saw them cross An open glade; now he was high aloft On some tall scar fringed with dark feathery pines, Peering to spy a goat-track down the cliff, Cheering with hand, and voice, and horn his dogs.

At last the cry drew to the water's edge-- And through the brushwood, to the pebbly strand, Broke, black with sweat, the antler'd mountain-stag, And took the lake. Two hounds alone pursued, Then came the prince; he shouted and plunged in.

--There is a chasm rifted in the base Of that unfooted precipice, whose rock Walls on one side the deep Stymphalian Lake; There the lake-waters, which in ages gone Wash'd, as the marks upon the hills still show, All the Stymphalian plain, are now suck'd down.

A headland, with one aged plane-tree crown'd, Parts from this cave-pierced cliff the shelving bay Where first the chase plunged in; the bay is smooth, But round the headland's point a current sets, Strong, black, tempestuous, to the cavern-mouth.

Stoutly, under the headland's lee, they swam; But when they came abreast the point, the race Caught them as wind takes feathers, whirl'd them round Struggling in vain to cross it, swept them on, Stag, dogs, and hunter, to the yawning gulph.

All this, O King, not piecemeal, as to thee Now told, but in one flashing instant pa.s.s'd.

While from the turf whereon I lay I sprang And took three strides, quarry and dogs were gone; A moment more--I saw the prince turn round Once in the black and arrowy race, and cast An arm aloft for help; then sweep beneath The low-brow'd cavern-arch, and disappear.

And what I could, I did--to call by cries Some straggling hunters to my aid, to rouse Fishers who live on the lake-side, to launch Boats, and approach, near as we dared, the chasm.

But of the prince nothing remain'd, save this, His boar-spear's broken shaft, back on the lake Cast by the rumbling subterranean stream; And this, at landing spied by us and saved, His broad-brimm'd hunter's hat, which, in the bay, Where first the stag took water, floated still.

And I across the mountains brought with haste To Cypselus, at Basilis, this news-- Basilis, his new city, which he now Near Lycosura builds, Lycaon's town, First city founded on the earth by men.

He to thee sends me on, in one thing glad, While all else grieves him, that his grandchild's death Extinguishes distrust 'twixt him and thee.

But I from our deplored mischance learn this: The man who to untimely death is doom'd, Vainly you hedge him from the a.s.sault of harm; He bears the seed of ruin in himself.