Day by day, delay, decay

To ship and tackle, chief and crew:

And but one way

one only way to appease

The Goddess, and the wind of wrath subdue;

One

way of cure so worse than the disease,

As, but to hear propound,

The Princes struck their sceptres to the ground.

IX.

After a death-deep pause,

The Lord of man and armament his voice Lifted into the silence-" Terrible choice! "To base imprisonment of wind and flood "Whether consign and sacrifice the band "Of heroes gathered in my name and cause; "Or thence redeem them by a daughter's blood A daughter's blood shed by a father's hand;

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"Shed by a father's hand, and to atone

"The guilt of One-who, could the God endure. "Propitiation by the Life impure,

"Should wash out her transgression with her own."

X.

But, breaking on that iron multitude,

The Father's cry no kindred echo woke :

And in the sullen silence that ensued

An unrelenting iron answer spoke.

XI.

At last his neck to that unnatural yoke

He bowed his hand to that unnatural stroke: With growing purpose, obstinate as the wind That block'd his fleet, so block'd his better mind, To all the Father's heart within him blind

For thus it fares with men; the seed

Of Evil, sown by seeming Need,

Grows, self-infatuation-nurst,
From evil Thought to evil Deed,
Incomprehensible at first,

And to the end of Life accurst.

XII.

And thus, the blood of that one innocent

Weigh'd light against one great accomplishment,

At last at last-in the meridian blaze

Of Day, with all the Gods in Heaven agaze, And armed Greece below - he came to dare

After due preparation, pomp, and prayer,

He came the wretched father-came to dare—

Himself with sacrificial knife in hand,

Before the sacrificial altar stand,

To which-her sweet lips, sweetly wont to sing Before him in the banquet-chamber, gagg'd, Lest one ill word should mar the impious thing;

Her saffron scarf about her fluttering,

Dumb as an all-but-speaking picture, dragg'd

Through the remorseless soldiery

But soft!

While I tell the more than oft

Told Story, best in silence found,
Incense-breathing fires aloft

Up into the rising fire,

Into which the stars expire,

Of Morning mingle; and a sound

As of Rumour at the heel

Of some great tiding gathers ground;

And from portals that disclose

Before a fragrant air that blows

Them open, what great matter, Sirs,

Thus early Clytemnestra stirs,
Hither through the palace gate
Torch in hand, and step-elate,
Advancing, with the kindled Eyes
As of triumphant Sacrifice?

CLYTEMNESTRA: CHORUS.

Oh, Clytemnestra, my obeisance

Salutes your coming footstep, as her right
Who rightly occupies the fellow-chair

Of that now ten years widow'd of its Lord.
But

be it at your pleasure ask'd, as answered

What great occasion, almost ere Night's self

Rekindles into Morning from the Sun,

Has woke your Altar-fire to Sacrifice?

CLYTEMNESTRA.

Oh, never yet did Night

Night of all Good the Mother, as men say,
Conceive a fairer issue than To-day!

Prepare your ear, Old man, for tidings such
As youthful hope would scarce anticipate.

CHORUS.

I have prepared them for such news as such

Preamble argues.

CLYTEMNESTRA.

What if you be told

Oh mighty sum in one small figure cast!

That ten-year-toil'd-for Troy is ours at last ?

CHORUS.

"If told!"-Once more! -the word escap'd our ears,

With many a baffled rumour heretofore

Slipt down the wind of wasted Expectation.

CLYTEMNESTRA.

Once more then; and with unconditional

Assurance having hit the mark indeed

That Rumour aimed at -Troy, with all the towers Our burning vengeance leaves aloft, is ours.

Now speak I plainly?

CHORUS.

Oh! to make the tears,

That waited to bear witness in the eye,

Start, to convict our incredulity!

CLYTEMNESTRA.

Oh blest conviction that enriches you

That lose the cause with all the victory.

CHORUS.

Ev'n so. But how yourself convinced before?

CLYTEMNESTRA.

By no less sure a witness than the God.

CHORUS.

What, in a dream?

CLYTEMNESTRA.

I am not one to trust

The vacillating witnesses of Sleep.