Lustful, accursed, monstrous is their
will
As of beasts ravening—’ware
we of their power!
DANAUS
Look you, not swiftly puts a fleet to
sea, Nor swiftly to its moorings; long it is Or
e’er the saving cables to the shore Are borne,
and long or e’er the steersmen cry, The
good ship swings at anchor—all is well.
Longest of all, the task to come aland Where haven
there is none, when sunset fades In night. To
pilot wise, the adage saith, Night is a day
of wakefulness and pain. Therefore no force
of weaponed men, as yet Scatheless can come ashore,
before the bank Lie at her anchorage securely moored.
Bethink thee therefore, nor in panic leave The
shrine of gods whose succour thou hast won I go
for aid—men shall not blame me long, Old,
but with youth at heart and on my tongue
[Exit
DANAUS.
O land of hill and dale, O holy land,
What shall befall us? whither shall we
flee,
From Apian land to some dark lair of earth?
O would that in vapour of smoke I might
rise to the
clouds of the
sky,
That as dust which flits up without wings
I might pass
and evanish and
die!
I dare not, I dare not abide: my
heart yearns, eager
to fly;
And dark is the cast of my thought;
I shudder and
tremble for fear.
My father looked forth and beheld:
I die of the sight
that draws near.
And for me be the strangling cord, the
halter made
ready by Fate,
Before to my body draws nigh the man of
my horror
and hate.
Nay, ere I will own him as lord, as
handmaid to
Hades I go!
And oh, that aloft in the sky, where the
dark clouds
are frozen to
snow,
A refuge for me might be found, or a mountain-top
smooth and too
high
For the foot of the goat, where the vulture
sits lonely,
and none may descry
The pinnacle veiled in the cloud,
the highest and
sheerest of all,
Ere to wedlock that rendeth my heart,
and love that
is loveless, I fall!
Yea, a prey to the dogs and the birds
of the mount
will I give
me to be,—
From wailing and curse and pollution it
is death,
only death, sets
me free:
Let death come upon me before
to the ravisher’s
bed I am thrust;
What champion, what saviour but death
can I find,
or what refuge
from lust?
I will utter my shriek of entreaty,
a prayer that
shrills up to the sky,
That calleth the gods to compassion,
a tuneful, a pitiful
cry,
That is loud to invoke the releaser.
O father, look
down on the fight;
Look down in thy wrath on the wronger,
