Poetical Works of Matthew Arnold - novelonlinefull.com
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_Merope_ (_with a start_)
How say'st thou? within?...
_The Chorus_
He in the guest-chamber now, Faithlessly murder'd his friend.
_Merope_
Ye, too, ye, too, join to betray, then Your Queen!
_The Chorus_
What is this?
_Merope_
Ye knew, O false friends! into what Haven the murderer had dropp'd?
Ye kept silence?
_The Chorus_
In fear, O loved mistress! in fear, Dreading thine over-wrought mood, What I knew, I conceal'd.
_Merope_
Swear by the G.o.ds henceforth to obey me!
_The Chorus_
Unhappy one, what deed Purposes thy despair?
I promise; but I fear.
_Merope_
From the altar, the unavenged tomb, Fetch me the sacrifice-axe!----
[THE CHORUS _goes towards the tomb of_ CRESPHONTES, _and their leader brings back the axe._
O Husband, O clothed With the grave's everlasting, All-covering darkness! O King, Well-mourn'd, but ill-avenged!
Approv'st thou thy wife now?---- The axe!--who brings it?
_The Chorus_
'Tis here!
But thy gesture, thy look, Appals me, shakes me with awe.
_Merope_
Thrust back now the bolt of that door!
_The Chorus_
Alas! alas!-- Behold the fastenings withdrawn Of the guest-chamber door!-- Ah! I beseech thee--with tears----
_Merope_
Throw the door open!
_The Chorus_
'Tis done!...
[_The door of the house is thrown open: the interior of the guest-chamber is discovered, with_ aePYTUS _asleep on a couch._
_Merope_
He sleeps--sleeps calm. O ye all-seeing G.o.ds!
Thus peacefully do ye let sinners sleep, While troubled innocents toss, and lie awake?
What sweeter sleep than this could I desire For thee, my child, if thou wert yet alive?
How often have I dream'd of thee like this, With thy soil'd hunting-coat, and sandals torn, Asleep in the Arcadian glens at noon, Thy head droop'd softly, and the golden curls Cl.u.s.tering o'er thy white forehead, like a girl's; The short proud lip showing thy race, thy cheeks Brown'd with thine open-air, free, hunter's life.
Ah me!
And where dost thou sleep now, my innocent boy?-- In some dark fir-tree's shadow, amid rocks Untrodden, on Cyllene's desolate side; Where travellers never pa.s.s, where only come Wild beasts, and vultures sailing overhead.
There, there thou liest now, my hapless child!
Stretch'd among briars and stones, the slow, black gore Oozing through thy soak'd hunting-shirt, with limbs Yet stark from the death-struggle, tight-clench'd hands, And eyeb.a.l.l.s staring for revenge in vain.
Ah miserable!
And thou, thou fair-skinn'd Serpent! thou art laid In a rich chamber, on a happy bed, In a king's house, thy victim's heritage; And drink'st untroubled slumber, to sleep off The toils of thy foul service, till thou wake Refresh'd, and claim thy master's thanks and gold.-- Wake up in h.e.l.l from thine unhallow'd sleep, Thou smiling Fiend, and claim thy guerdon there!
Wake amid gloom, and howling, and the noise Of sinners pinion'd on the torturing wheel, And the stanch Furies' never-silent scourge.
And bid the chief tormentors there provide For a grand culprit shortly coming down.
Go thou the first, and usher in thy lord!
A more just stroke than that thou gav'st my son Take----
[MEROPE _advances towards the sleeping_ aePYTUS, _with the axe uplifted. At the same moment_ ARCAS _re-enters._
_Arcas_ (_to the Chorus_)
Not with him to council did the King Carry his messenger, but left him here.
[_Sees_ MEROPE _and_ aepytus.
O G.o.ds!...
_Merope_
Foolish old man, thou spoil'st my blow!
_Arcas_
