The Temple of Poseidon.
Polydaon, Therops, Dercetes, Cydone, Damoetes and a great number of Syrians, men and women.
Iolaus stands bound, a little to the side: Cepheus and Cassiopea surrounded by armed men.
Cepheus and Cassiopea, man and woman,
Not sovereigns now, you see what end they have
Who war upon the gods.
To see thy end
My eyes wait only.
Let them see something likelier,
Is’t not thy son who wears those cords and that
An altar? what! the eyes are drownded in tears
Where fire was once so ready! Where is thy pride,
There are other gods
Than thy Poseidon. they shall punish thee.
If thou knew’st who I am, which is most secret,
Thou wouldst not utter vain and foolish wishes.
When thou art slain, I will reveal myself.
Thou hast revealed thyself for what thou art
Already, a madman and inhuman monster.
My queen, refrain from words.
Look, the Queen swoons! Oh, look to her!
Yes, raise her up, bring back her senses: now
I would not have them clouded. News, Perissus!
Thy face is troubled and thy eyes stare wildly.
Stare, do they? They may stare, for they have cause.
You too will stare soon, Viceroy Polydaon.
What rare thing happened? The heavens were troubled strangely,
Although their rifts were blue. What hast thou seen?
I have seen hell and heaven at grips together.
What do I care for hell or heaven? Your news!
Did the sea-monster come and eat and go?
He came but went not.
Was not the maiden seized?
Ay, was she, in a close and mighty grasp.
By the sea-beast?
‘Tis said we all are animals;
Then so was he: but ’twas glorious beast.
And was she quite devoured?
Why, in a manner,-
If kisses eat.
Ha! Ha! Such soft caresses
May all my enemies have. She was not torn?
What, was she taken whole and quite engulfed?
Something like that.
You speak with difficult slowness
And strangely. Where’s your blithe robustness gone,
Coming, with the beast. He lifted her
Mightly from the cliff to heaven.
Nothing is left thee of Andromeda.
Why, something yet, a sweet and handsome piece.
You should have brought it here, my merry butcher,
That remnant of her daughter.
It is coming.
Ho, ho! Then you shall see your daughter, queen.
This is a horrid and inhuman laughter.
Restrain thy humour, priest! My sword’s uneasy.
It is a scandal in Poseidon’s temple.
Do you oppose me?
wilt thou resist Poseidon,
He glares and his mouth works,
This is a maniac. Does a madman rule us?
There has been much of violence and mad fierceness,
Such as in tumults may be pardoned. Now
It is the tranquil hour of victory.
When decency should reign and mercy too.
What do we gain by torturing this poor Queen
And most unhappy King?
Hear him, O people!
He favours great Poseidon’s enemies.
Therops turns traitor.
He rails at the good priest.
Therops a traitor!
Therops, thou favour kings?
Thou traitor to Poseidon and his people?
I say, Hear Therops. He is always right,
Our Therops; he has brains.
Hear Therops, Therops!
Let them be punished, but with exile only.
I am no traitor. I worked for you, O people,
When this false priest was with the King of Tyre
Plotting to lay on you a foreign chain.
Is it so? Is it the truth? Speak, Polydaon.
Must I defend myself? Was it not I
Who led you on to victory and turned
The wrath of dire Poseidon? If you doubt me,
Be then the sacrifice forbidden; let Cepheus
And Cassiopea reign; but when the dogs
Of grim Poseidon howl again behind you,
Call not to me for help. I will not always pardon.
Polydaon, Polydaon, Poseidon’s mighty Viceroy! Kill Therops! Iolaus upon the altar!
Now you are wise again. Leave this Therops.
Bring Iolaus to the altar here.
Lay bare his bosom for the knife.
Shall this be allowed?
We must not dare offend
Poseidon. But when it’s over, I’ll break in
With all my faithful spears and save the King
And Cassiopea. Therops, ‘twould be a nightmare,
The rule of that fierce priest and fiercer rabble.
With all the better sort I will support thee.
Therops, my crowd-compeller my eloquent Zeus of the marketplace. I know thy heart is big with the sweet passion of repentance, but let it not burst into action yet. Keep thy fleet sharp spears at rest, Dercetes. There are times, my little captain, and there is a season. Watch and wait. The gods are at work and Iolaus shall not die.
We only wait until our mighty wrath
Is shown you in the mangled worst offender
Against our godhead. Then, O Cassiopea,
I’ll watch thy eyes.
Behold her, Polydaon.
Perseus and Andromeda enter the temple.
Andromeda! Andromeda! Who has unchained her?
It is Andromeda!
It is the spirit of Andromeda.
Shadows were ne’er so bright, had never smile
So sunny! She is given back to earth:
It is the radiant winged Hermes brings her.
‘Tis he who baffled us upon the beach.
I see the gods are busy in our Syria.
Andromeda runs to Cassiopea and clasps and kisses her knees:
the soldiers making way for her.
CASSIOPEA (taking Andromeda’s face between her hands)
O my sweet child, thou livest!
I live and see the light and grief is ended.
CASSIOPEA (lifting Andromeda into her arms)
I hold thee living on my bosom. What grief
Can happen now?
Andromeda, my daughter!
POLYDAON (awaking from his amazement)
Confusion! Butcher, thou hast betrayed me. Seize them!
They shall all die upon my mighty altar.
Priest of Poseidon and of death,
Three days thou gav’st me: it is but the second.
I am here. Dost thou require the sacrifice?
Art thou a god? I am a greater, dreadfuller.
Tremble and go from me: I need thee not.
Expect thy punishment. Syrians, behold me,
The victim snatched from grim Poseidon’s altar.
My sword has rescued sweet Andromeda
And slain the monster of the deep. You asked
For victims? I am here. Whose knife is ready?
Let him approach.
Who art thou, mighty hero?
Declare unto this people thy renown
And thy unequalled actions. What high godhead
Befriends thee in battle?
Syrians, I am Perseus,
The mighty son of Zeus and Danaë.
The blood of gods is in my veins, the strength
Of gods is in my arm: Athene helps me.
Behold her aegis, which if I uncover
Will blind you with its lightnings; and this sword
Is Herpe, which can pierce the earth and Hades.
What I have done, is by Athene’s strenth.
Brone from Seriphos through pellucid air
Upon these winged shoes, in the far west
I have traversed unknown lands and nameless continents
And seas where never came the plash of hum;an oars.
On torrid coasts burned by the desert wind
I have seen great Atlas buttressing the sky,
His giant head companion of the stars,
And changed him into a hill; the northern snows
Illimitable I have trod, where Nature
Is awed to silence, chilled to rigid whiteness;
I have entered caverns dim where death was born:
And I have taken from the dim-dwelling Graiae
Their wondrous eye that sees the past and future:
And I have slain the Gorgon, dire Medusa,
Her head that turns the living man to stone
Locking into my wallet: last, today,
In Syria by the loud Aegean surges
I have done his deed that men shall ever speak of.
Ascending with winged feet the clamorous air
I have cloven Poseidon’s monster whose rock-teeth
And fiery mouth swallowed your sons and daughters.
Where now has gone the sea-god’s giant stride
That filled with heads of foam your fruitful fields?
I have dashed back the leaping angry waters;
His Ocean-force has yielded to mortal.
Even while I speak, the world has changed around you
Syrians, the earth is calm, the heavens smile;
A mighty silence listens on the sea.
All this I have done, and yet not I, but one greater.
Such is Athene’s might and theirs who serve her.
You know me now, O Syrians, and my strength
I have concealed not. Let no man hereafter
Complain that I deceived him to his doom.
Speak now. Which of you all demands a victim?
He pauses: there is silence.
What, you have howled and maddened, bound sweet women
For slaughter, roared to have the hearts of princes,
And are you silent now? Who is for victims?
Who sacrifices Perseus?
Speak! Is there
A fool so death-devoted?
Claims any man victims?
There’s none, great Perseus.
Then, I here release
Andromeda and Iolaus, Syrians,
From the death-doom: to Cepheus give his crown
Once more. Does any man gainsay my action?
Would any rule in Syria?
None, mighty Perseus
Iolaus, sweet friend, my work is finished.
He severs his bonds.
O mighty father, suffer me for thee
To take thy crown from the unworthy soil
Where rude hands tumbled it. ‘Twill now sit steady.
Dercetes, art thou loyal once again?
I have abjured rebellion.
Lead them royal parents to their home
With martial pomp and music. And let the people
Cover their foul revolt with meek obedience.
One guiltiest head shall pay you forfeit: the rest,
Since terror and religious frenzy moved
To mutiny, not their sober wills, shall all
Long live the Syrian, noble Iolaus!
Andromeda, and thou, my sweet Cydone,
Go with them.
I approve thy sentence, son.
Dercetes and his soldiers, Therops and the Syrians leave
Syrians leave the temple conducting Cepheus
And Cassiopea, Andromeda and Cydone.
I have seen all and laughed.
Iolaus, and thou, O Argive Perseus,
You know not who I am. I have endured
Your foolish transient triumph that you might feel
My punishments more bitter-terrible.
‘Tis time, ’tis time. I will reveal myself.
Your horror-staring eyes shall know me, princes,
When I hurl death and Ocean on your heads.
The man is frantic.
Defeat has turned him mad.
I have seen this coming on him for a season and a half. He was a fox at first, but this tumult gave him claws and muscles and he turned tiger. This is the end. What, Polydaon! Good cheer, priest! Roll not thy eyes: I am thy friend Perissus, I am thy old loving school-mate; are we not fellow-craftsmen, priest and butcher?
Do you not see? I wave my sapphire locks
And earth is quaking. Quake, earth! Rise, my great Ocean!
Earth, shake my foemen from thy back! Clasp, sea,
And kiss them dead, thou huge voluptuary.
Come barking from your stables, my sweet monsters:
With blood-stained fangs and fiery mouths avenge me
Mocking their victory. Thou, brother Zeus,
Rain curses from thy skies. What, is all silent?
I’ll tear thee, Ocean, into watery bits
And strip thy oozy basal rocks quite naked
If thou obey me not.
He must be seized.
Polydaon, old crony, grows thy soul too great within thee? Dost thou kick the unworthy earth and hit out with thy noble firsts at Heaven?
It was a fit, it is over. He lies back white
(As he speaks, his utterance is hacked by pauses of silence. He seems unconscious of those around him,
his being is withdrawing from the body and he lives only in an inner consciousness and its vision.)
I was Poseidon but this moment.
Now he departs from me and leaves me feeble:
I have become a dull and puny mortal.
It was not I but thou who feared’st, god.
I would have spoken, but thou wert chilled and stone.
What feared’st thou or whom? Wert thou alarmed
By the godhead lurking in man’s secret soul
Or deity greater than thy own appalled thee?…
Forgive, forgive! Pass not away from me.
Thy power is now my breath and I shall perish
If thou withdraw…. He stands beside me still
Shaking his gloomy locks and glares at me
Saying it was my sin and false ambition
Undid him. Was I not fearless as thou bad’st me?
Ah, he has gone into invisible
Vast silences!… whose, whose is this bright glory?
One stands now in his place and looks at me.
Imperious is his calm Olympian brow,
The sea’s blue unfathomed depaths gaze from his eyes,
Wide sea-blue locks crown his majestic shape:
A mystic trident arms his tranquil might.
As one new-born to himself and to the world
He turns from me with the surges in his stride
To seek his Ocean empire. Earth bows down
Trembling with awe of his unbearable steps,
Heaven is the mirror of his purple greatness….
But whose was that dimmer and tremendous image?….
A horror of darkness is around me still,
But the joy and might have gone out of my breast
And left me mortal, a poor human thing
With whom death and the fates can do their will….
But his presence yet is with me, near to me….
Was I not something more than earthly man?…
(with a cry)
It was myself, the shadow, the hostile god!
I am abandoned to my evil self.
That was the darkness!… but there was something more.
Insistent, dreadful, other than myself!
Whoever thou art, spare me… I am gone, I am taken
In his tremendous clutch he bears me off
Into thick cloud; I see black Hell, the knives
Fire-pointed touch my breast. Spare me, Poseidon…
Save me, O brilliant God, forgive and save.
He falls back dead.
Who then can save a man from his own self?
He is ended, his own evil has destroyed him.
This man for a few hours became the vessel
Of an occult and formidable Force
And through his form it did fierce terrible things
Unhuman: but his small and gloomy mind
And impure dark heart could not contain the Force.
It turned in him to madness and demoniac
Huge longings. Then the Power withdrew from him
Leaving the broken incapable instrument,
And all its might was split from his body. Better
To be a common man mid common men
And live an unaspiring mortal life
Than call into oneself a Titan strength
Too dire and mighty for its human frame,
That only afflicts the oppressed astonished world,
Then breaks its user.
But best to be Heaven’s child.
Only the sons of gods can harbour gods.
Art thou then gone, Polydaon? My monarch of breast-hackers, this was an evil ending. My heart is full of woe for thee, my fellow-butcher.
The gods have punished him for his offences,
Ambition and a hideous cruelty
Ingenious in mere horror.
Burn him with rites,
If that may help his soul by dark Cocytus.
But let us go and end these strange upheavals:
Call Cireas from his hiding for reward,
Tyrnaus too, and Smerdas from his prison,
Fair Diomede from Cydone’s house.
Humble or high, let all have their deserts
Who partners were or causes of our troubles.
There’s Phineus will ask reasons.
He shall be satisfied.
He cannot be satisfied, his nose is too long; it will not listen to reason, for it thinks all the reason and policy in the world are shut up in the small brain to which it is a long hooked outlet.
Perissus, come with me: for thou wert kind
To my fair sweetness; it shall be remembered.
There was nothing astonishing in that: I am as chockfull with natural kindness as a rabbit is with guts; I have bowels, great Perseus. For am I Perissus? Am I not the butcher?
They go out: the curtain falls.