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    580 ^ THE LEADER. [Saturday , I

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    ) Owen Meredith's Poems. ' Clytemnestra,...

    _ and resolution , of _Clpmne . tra . But this is precisely the point on which Owen Meredith has lavished his strength and invention . He sees that the guilty wife , disturbed in her adulterous happiness , is now to be confronted with her husband . She trembles for the future , looks back on the past— On days grown lovelier in the retrospect— i «\ xr _\ _- c i i ,. u _i o » u _4-x u 4 . 1 t . _„« _,- ? i _; _a q and then resolves : « Wherefore look back ? she says , the " path to safety lies forward" . . . The sight of her husband ' s shield recals him , and _recals her old dislike of him : — , __ Oh , this man ! Why sticks the thought of him so in my heart ? If I had loved him once—if for one hour —• Then -were there treason in this falling off . But never did I feel this wretched heart Until it leap'd beneath _JEgisthus' eyes . Who could have so forecounted all from first ? From that flusht moment when his hand in mine ? _fwe _£°$ se _unwaged _^ _-member I dream ' d sweet dreams that night , and slept till dawn , And woke with flutterings of a happy thought , And felt , not worse , but better . . . and now . . . now ? When first a strange and novel tenderness Quiver ' d in these salt eyes , had one said then " A bead of dew may drag a deluge down : "— In that first pensive pause , through which I watch ' d Unwonted sadness on _^ E gisthus' brows , Had some one whispered , " Ay , the summer-cloud Comes first : the tempest follows . "— Well , what ' s past Is past . Perchance the worst ' s to follow yet . This , whether it be the sophism of guilty passion , or the real utterance of ancient dislike is finely conceived . Yet she does not undervalue Agamemnon : — Surely sometimes the unseen Eumenides Do prompt our musing moods with wicked hints , And lash us for our crimes ere we commit them . Here , round this silver boss , he cut my name , Once—long ago : he cut it as he lay Tired out with brawling pastimes—prone—his limbs At length diffused—his head droopt in my lap— His spear flung by : Electra by the hearth Sat with the young Orestes on her _kneos While he , with an old broken sword , hack ' d out These crooked characters , and laughed to see ( _SpraivTd from the unused strength of his large hands ) The marks make Clytemnestra . How he laughed ! _JEgisthus' hands are smaller . Yet I know That matrons envied me my husband's strength . And I remember when he strode among The Argive crowd he topp'd them by a head , And tall men stood wide-eyed to look at him , Where his great plumes went tossing up and down The brazen prores drawn out upon the sand . And he approaches ;— Herald , Even now the broad sea-fields Grow white with flocks of sails , and toward the west The sloped horizon teems with rising beaks . Clytemnestra . The people know this ? Herald . Heard you not the noise ? For soon as this wing'd news had toucht the gate 3 The whole land shouted in the sun . Clytemnestra . So soon ! The thought ' s outsped by the reality , And halts agape ... the King— Herald How she ia moved ! A noble woman ! Clytemnestra . Wherefore beat so fast , Thou foolish heart ? 'tis not thy master— Herald . Truly She looks all over Agamemnon ' s mate . Clytemnestra . Destiny , Destiny ! The deed ' s half done . Herald . She _^ ill not speak , save by that brooding eye Whose light is language . Some great thought , I see , . Mounts up the roval chambers of her blood , As a king mounts his palace ; holds high pomp In h « r Olympian bosom _; gains her face , _Possoaaes all her noble glowing cheek With sudden state ; and gathers grandly up Its slow majestic meanings in her eyes ! * * We pass over the choruses ( upon which a word by and by ) and come to the scene between Clytemnestra and her feeble lover _iEgisthus—a scene not dissimilar from that in Macbeth , where the Northern Clytemnestra screws her vacillating husband ' s courage to the sticking place . There is nothing of this in _^ Eschylus ; vet every one sees it is the dramatic pivot of the legend . The scene is too long for _extract , but will be read with wonder and delight by every one who opens the volume . Here is an _extractable passage ; _JEgisthJs asks , « If the deed be done dure we hope to be happy ?" _ P Clytemnestra . My Belov'd , We are not happy—wo may never bo , PercLanco , again . Yet it is much to think Wo _liave been so : and ov ' n tho 1 wo must weop , Wo have enjoy'd _. ¦ " The _roaos and tho thorns We have pluckt together . Wo havo proved both . Say , Was it not worth the bleeding hands they loft us To have won such flowera ? And if't were poasiblo To _kocip them _atill—keep even tho withor'd loaves , Even the wither'd leaves are _wortlx our care .

    _^ _M _. _^ _fi _^ _fcES ' _SL _, _"" _^ I Be dark M _^^ fhe thun ' der _^ _° » I _^ t only here and there _^^ a wan f » I More bright for raias between ?—' tis much— 'tis more , I ' For we shall ever think " the sun ' s behind . I The sun must shine before the day goes down ! " I Anything better than the long , lon | night , I And that perpetual silence of the tomb ! I 'Tis not for happier hours , but life itself B Which may bring happier hours , we strike at Fate . H Why , tho' from all the treasury of the Past II 'Tis but one solitary gem we save— II One kiss more such as we have kist , one smile , ll One more embrace , one night more such as _thos e II Which wo have shared , how costly were the prize , IS How richly worth the attempt ! Jm _y fine _; g hep terrof a ( . h _; g terror _ her terror lest she shouId h _bfi . H < _*** _*»—»* fine the way she catches at a show of spirit in him _ * I Do I not know the noble steed will start § Aside , scared lightly by a straw , a shadow , 1 A thorn-bush in the way , while the dull mule . | Plods stupidly adown the dizziest paths ? i And oft indeed , such trifles will dismay 1 The finest and most eager spirits , which yet f Daunt not a duller mind . O love , be sure | | Whate ' er betide , whether for well or ill , If Thy fate and mine are bound up in one _akein , g Clotho must cut them both inseparate . m You dare not leave me—had you wings for flight ! ffl You sha 11 not leave me ! You are mine , indeed , gf _^ t _SSh _^ t _^^ _tSSeV _^* _^ * _** _t Life-life with safe and honourable years , I And power to do with these that which we would ! M —His lip ' s comprest—his eye dilates—he is saved ! m O , when strong natures into frailer ones _p Have struck deep root , if one exalt not both , M Both must drag down and perish ! . ' M JEgisthus . If we should live— 1 Clytemnestra . And we shall live . I _JEgisthus . Yet . . . yet— f Clytemnestra . What ! shrinking still ? ;| I'll do the deed . Do not stand off from me . \ _^ E gisthus . Terrible Spirit ! f Clytemnestra . Nay , not terrible , i <| Not to thee terrible—O say not so ! R 4 To thee I never had been anything if But a weak , passionate , unhappy woman Jm ( O woe is me !) and now you fear me— §§ JEgisthus . No , M But rather worship . | f | Clytemnestra . O my heart , my heart , M It sends up all its anguish in this cry— U Love me a little ! f The power , essentially dramatic , which throbs in these lines the reader 1 wlll perhaps feel even in extract ( although that is a very imperfect way of | judging of the effect , since all preparation is lost in extract ) . How fine is ;| this : — I Herald . O Honour of the House of Tantalus ! " | The king ' s wheels echo in the brazen gates . ;'; Clytemnestra . Our heart is half-way there , to welcome him . : i _. How looks he ? Well ? And all our long-lost friends— ¦¦ j Their faces grow _before me ! Lead the way i $ Where we may meet them . All our haste seems slow . i | Indeed the style is affluent and easy in its strength . The images are fre- I >| quently fine and finely expressed : such as this : — I _^ J ; f , _^ . _.., _,,.. _x-m I For every m llt tliat brought not news from Troy | Heaped fear on fear , as waves succeed to waves M When northern Masts blow white the Cretan main . ;| Yet these images are not dragged in , as if the whole purpose of poetry were v to throw off similes . What has been already quoted will suffice to show the | J peculiar powers of the writer , in dramatic expression especially , and we || now quote the description of the sacrifice of Iphigcnia , which the reader 1 may compare with that of _JGscliylus ( Ariam . v . 180—237 ) : — I „ ,. . _, _, .,,. . \ ,. , _x , , m * he win _, d 8 _^ cre lu _" * in Al _^ la \ _™ d the d _" v ' _$ \ Down-sloped , was loitering to the lazy west . $ W _^ _T- ° T _^ ° « e la 3 SV bav > _< S" * * _" tlun _« 3 h _Y a heavy _I'Sht opprcst . _, Windless , cut off upon the destined way— 3 Dark shrouds , _diatmct against the lurid lull-Dark ropes hung useless , loose , from ronst to hull— ! The black ships lay abreast . Not any cloud-would cross the brooding skies . '< Tho distant sea boom'd faintly . Nothing more . - \ They walked about upon tho yellow shore ; J _Or i _Jy ' m S listless , huddled groups supine , ;! With f _«» _ces _tam'd toward tho flat _aoa-apine , . Jhey _plann'd tho Phrygian battle o ' er and ocr ; ! _^ _^ SSilSSl _^ _^ hen _wouZr _^ one rise , i And look toward Ihe hollow hulls , with haggard , hopeless ayes—Wild eyes—and , crowding round , yet wilder oyca— ; And gaping , languid lips ; ¦ And everywhere that men could ace , About tho black , black ships , Was nothing but tho dccp-rcd _eca ; The doop-red _ahoro ; The deep-rod skies ; The deep-red ailonco , thick with thirsty _aigha ; And daylight , dying slowly . Nothing more . Tho tall masts _atood upright ; i

    580 ^ The Leader. [Saturday , I

    580 _^ THE LEADER . [ Saturday , I

• Citation
  • Leader (1850-1860), June 16, 1855, page 4, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse-os.kdl.kcl.ac.uk/periodicals/l/issues/scld_16061855/page/4/