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580 ^ THE LEADER. [Saturday , I
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Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
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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
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Citation
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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/
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