Chorion

“ And the postman left, hoping with all his heart that Choron was wounded less dangerously than he thought; for he could hardly believe a man who could preserve his presence of mind with such coolness could be mortally hurt.
No one ever knew what passed after the postman left him. No human creature helped Choron in that dark hour of his mortal agony—he struggled alone with death. ”

“ It comes down to us for the Opinion of some of them, that a Putrefaction of Choler in an humane Body gives Rise to a Pestilence; and of others, that Fire may be so corrupted, as to occasion the same; what therefore the former conceived of Choler, and the latter of Fire, we judge more justly ascribed here to a vitiated saline Spirit. ”

“ I'll do! I'll suffer! I will dare to die.
These gates, as gates of Hades, I adjure,
One prayer I offer, "mortal be the stroke;"
Free from convulsive throes, in easy death,
While ebbs my life-blood, may I close mine eyes.
Chorus.
Oh woman, thou most wretched and most wise;
Lengthy thy speech hath been; but if thou knowest
Truly thine own sad doom, how walkest thou
Like heaven-led victim, boldly to the altar?
Cassandra.
There's no escape; brief respite, nothing more. ⁠1270
Chorus. ”

“ ETEOCLES.
Words shall not blunt the edge of my resolve.
CHORUS.
Yet the god loves to let the weak prevail.
ETEOCLES.
That to a swordsman, is no welcome word!
CHORUS.
Shall thine own brother’s blood be victory’s palm?
ETEOCLES.
Ill which the gods have sent thou canst not shun!
[Exit ETEOCLES.]
CHORUS.
I shudder in dread of the power, abhorred by the gods of high heaven,
The ruinous curse of the home till roof-tree and rafter be riven!
Too true are the visions of ill, too true the fulfilment they bring
To the curse that was spoken of old by the frenzy and wrath of the king! ”

“ Chorus.
But by whose word, whose craft, wert thou impelled?
Orestes.
By oracles of him who here attests me.
Chorus.
The prophet-god bade thee thy mother slay?
Orestes.
Yea, and thro' him not ill I fared, till now.
Chorus.
If the vote grip thee, thou shalt change that word.
Orestes.
Strong is my hope; my buried sire shall aid.
Chorus.
Go to now, trust the dead, a matricide! ”

“ Chorus.
Woe’s me, the clash of arms, loud and more loud,
Rings at the gate!
Eteocles.
And thou the loudest!—Peace!
Chorus.
Great council of the gods, O save us! save us!
Eteocles.
Perdition seize thee! thy words flow like water.
Chorus.
O patron gods, save me from captive chains!
Eteocles.
Thy fear makes captive me, and thee, and all.
Chorus.
O mighty Jove, fix with thy dart the foe!
Eteocles.
O Jove, of what strange stuff hast thou made women!
Chorus.
Men are no better, when their city’s captured.
Eteocles.
Dost clasp the gods again, and scream and howl? ”

“ Chorus (BOHEMUND) . The tidings on thy heart dismayed Have burst, and naught remains; behold! 'Tis come, nor long delayed, Whate'er the warning seers foretold: They spoke the message from on high, Their lips proclaimed resistless destiny! The mortal shall the curse fulfil Who seeks to turn predestined ill. ISABELLA. The gods have done their worst; if they be true Or false, 'tis one—for nothing they can add To this—the measure of their rage is full. Why should I tremble that have naught to fear? My darling son lies murdered, and the living I call my son no more. ”

“ You shall know now that I am in estimation; you shall perceive that a Jack guardant cannot office me from my son Coriolanus. Guess but by my entertainment with him if thou stand’st not i’ th’ state of hanging or of some death more long in spectatorship and crueller in suffering; behold now presently, and swoon for what’s to come upon thee. [to Coriolanus.] The glorious gods sit in hourly synod about thy particular prosperity and love thee no worse than thy old father Menenius does! O my son, my son! Thou art preparing fire for us ”

“ CHORUS
These are but words; but I, if justice fail me,
Will haunt this land in grim and deadly deed.
APOLLO
Scorn of the younger and the elder gods
Art thou: ’tis I that shall prevail anon.
CHORUS
Thus didst thou too of old in Pheres’ halls,
O’erreaching Fate to make a mortal deathless.
APOLLO
Was it not well, my worshipper to aid,
Then most of all when hardest was the need?
CHORUS
I say thou didst annul the lots of life,
Cheating with wine the deities of eld.
APOLLO
I say thou shalt anon, thy pleadings foiled,
Spit venom vainly on thine enemies. ”

“ But, all the same, Choron was looked upon by his comrades as a kind of oracle in all matters connected with the hunting of big game.
Courage, too, soon acquires a mighty power over men. Choron did not know what fear meant; he had never shrunk back before either man or beast. He would hunt out the boar from the deepest lair; he would attack poachers in their safe strongholds. ”

“ A city saved doth honour to her gods!
[Exit ETEOCLES, etc.]
Enter the CHORUS OF MAIDENS.
CHORUS.
I wail in the stress of my terror, and shrill is my cry of despair.
The foemen roll forth from their camp as a billow, and onward they bear!
Their horsemen are swift in the forefront, the dust rises up to the sky,
A signal, though speechless, of doom, a herald more clear than a cry!
Hoof-trampled, the land of my love bears onward the din to mine ears.
As a torrent descending a mountain, it thunders and echoes and nears!
The doom is unloosened and cometh! ”

“ How powerful a part of his design this is, will appear from the nature of these passions: which are,
[1.] First, Violent motions of the heart; the very wings and sails of the soul, and every passion, in its own working, doth express a violence.187 Choler is an earnest rage; voluptuousness is nothing less; fear is a desperate hurry of the soul; ‘love strong as death; jealousy cruel as the grave;’ each of them striving which should excel in violence, so that it is a question yet undetermined which passion may challenge the superiority. ”

“ The palace-doors are now rolled back, and Œdipus comes forward with wild gestures, the gore still streaming from eyes that are "irrecoverably dark amid the blaze of noon." The Chorus, horror-stricken, cannot endure the sight, and hide their faces in their robes. Pity and consolation are out of place in the presence of such misery as his. They can only utter broken exclamations of sorrow and dismay. ”

“ Heaves dark, with gleams of Phoebus' fiery hate,
Down-wind let drift the last of Laius' line!
Chorus.
This is some fierce unnatural appetite
That hungers after flesh unseethed and raw!
Famished for human victims! The loathed rite
Whose fruit is sour, whose blood sins 'gainst the law!
Eteocles.
It is my father's curse! I feel the glare
Of those hard eyes not moist with human tears!
To do things horrible they importune me!
There is a voice which cries 'Swift death were sweet!'
Chorus. ”

“ To threaten thus—me, one prepared to have thee
(On like conditions, thy hand conquering) o'er me
Rule: but if God the opposite ordain us,
Thou shalt learn—late taught, certes—to be modest.
CHOROS.
Greatly-intending thou art:
Much-mindful, too, hast thou cried
(Since thy mind, with its slaughter-outpouring part,
Is frantic) that over the eyes, a patch
Of blood—with blood to match—
Is plain for a pride!
Yet still, bereft of friends, thy fate
Is—blow with blow to expiate!
KLUTAIMNESTRA.
And this thou hearest—of my oaths, just warrant! ”

“ Speaking generally, and not dwelling on unimportant exceptions, it may be stated that, whatever was the especial occasion of a Choral Ode, the chief materials of its themes were supplied by sources, of which all classes of Choral poetry availed themselves alike. And chief among these were the legendary world of gods and heroes, and the unseen world of spirits, which Greek religion conceived as embracing and underlying all the material universe. ”

“ CHORAL INTERLUDE I Shocked at such defiance of heaven the Chorus invoke Sanctity, crowned as goddess in the nether world, to hear the awful words of Pentheus, uttered against the immortal son of Semele, first and best of gods, ruler of the flower-crowned feast, and the dance's jocund strife, and the laughter, and the sparkling wine-cup, and the sweet sleep that follows the festival. Sorrow closes the lot of such aweless, unbridled madness: stability is for the calmly reverent life, knitting whole houses in sweet domestic harmony. ”

“ To th’ fairness of my power.
COMINIUS.
So, to our tent,
Where, ere we do repose us, we will write
To Rome of our success.—You, Titus Lartius,
Must to Corioles back. Send us to Rome
The best, with whom we may articulate
For their own good and ours.
LARTIUS.
I shall, my lord.
CORIOLANUS.
The gods begin to mock me. I, that now
Refused most princely gifts, am bound to beg
Of my lord general.
COMINIUS.
Take’t, ’tis yours. What is’t?
CORIOLANUS.
I sometime lay here in Corioles
At a poor man’s house; he used me kindly. ”

“ SCENE III. The tent of CORIOLANUS. [Enter CORIOLANUS, AUFIDIUS, and others.]
CORIOLANUS. We will before the walls of Rome to-morrow Set down our host.—My partner in this action, You must report to the Volscian lords how plainly I have borne this business.
AUFIDIUS. Only their ends You have respected; stopped your ears against The general suit of Rome; never admitted A private whisper, no, not with such friends That thought them sure of you.
CORIOLANUS. This last old man, Whom with crack'd heart I have sent to Rome, Lov'd me above the measure of a father; Nay, godded me indeed. ”

“ Chorus.
Woman, home-watcher for thy lord who came
But now from war, didst thou his couch defile
And for the chief himself devise this doom?
Ægisthus.
Bold words again! but they shall end in tears.
The very converse, thine, of Orpheus' tongue:
He roused and led in ecstasy of joy
All things that heard his voice melodious;
But thou as with the futile cry of curs
Wilt draw men wrathfully upon thee. Peace!
Or strong subjection soon shall tame thy tongue.
Chorus. ”

“ Thou hast brought me into great delight. Thou hast given me of Thy flesh to eat and of Thy blood for an offering of intoxication.
39. Thou hast fastened the fangs of Eternity in my soul, and the Poison of the Infinite hath consumed me utterly.
40. I am become like a luscious devil of Italy; a fair strong woman with worn cheeks, eaten out with hunger for kisses. She hath played the harlot in divers palaces; she hath given her body to the beasts. ”

“ The other shoe went flying unto the devil-god of that river. I thought, 'By Jove! it’s all over. We are too late; he has vanished—the gift has vanished, by means of some spear, arrow, or club. I will never hear that chap speak after all'—and my sorrow had a startling extravagance of emotion, even such as I had noticed in the howling sorrow of these savages in the bush. I couldn't have felt more of lonely desolation somehow, had I been robbed of a belief or had missed my destiny in life. ... Why do you sigh in this beastly way, somebody? Absurd? ”

“ Driven by complex emotions, he loses all sense of restraint; and threatens the sentinel with torture and death if he does not find and bring the culprit immediately. Then he strides into the palace, and the man flings off with a gibe.
In the short interval which follows, the Chorus sing aptly and beautifully of the daring and skill of man. But their ode soon breaks into excited exclamations. They see the watchman who but lately left them returning hurriedly and leading a woman by the hand. At the same moment Creon enters.
Chorus. What portent from the gods is here? ”

“ Suddenly, as I was taking up a fresh sheet of notepaper, I heard a low sound, the first sound that, since we had been shut up together, had come to my ears in the dim stillness of the room. I remained with my head down, with my hand arrested. Those who have kept vigil by a sick-bed have heard such faint sounds in the stillness of the night watches, sounds wrung from a racked body, from a weary soul. ”

“ Be gracious to perplexèd Corin's lines;
You that do feel love's proud authority,
Help me to sing my sighs and sad designs.
Chloris, requite not faithful love with scorn,
But as thou oughtest have commiseration;
I have enough anatomised and torn
My heart, thereof to make a pure oblation.
Likewise consider how thy Corin prizeth
Thy parts above each absolute perfection,
How he of every precious thing deviseth
To make thee sovereign. Grant me then affection!
Else thus I prize thee: Chloris is alone
More hard than gold or pearl or precious stone. ”

“ The Declamation ends, like most Roman speeches, with an appeal: in this case to the sorcerer and the husband to remove the spells; especially to the sorcerer, who has power to torture the gods above and the spirits of the dead; who, by the terror of his midnight cries, can move the deepest caves, can shake the very foundations of the earth. "You are able both to call up the spirits that serve you and to act as their cruel and ruthless gaoler. ”

“ And under the delicate skin of this hand, which grasped his throat with sudden ferocity, the Chourineur [Pg 14] felt himself held by nerves of iron. The Goualeuse, who had sought refuge in this alley, and lightly ascended a few steps, paused for an instant, and said to her unknown defender, "Thanks, sir, for having taken my part. The Chourineur said he would strike me because I could not pay for his glass of brandy; but I think he only jested. Now I am safe, pray let him go. Take care of yourself, for he is the Chourineur." ”

“ But Chloris fair my orisons concludes
With fearful frowns, presagers of my pain.
Thus do I spend the weary wand'ring day,
Oppressèd with a chaos of heart's grief;
Thus I consume the obscure night away,
Neglecting sleep which brings all cares relief;
Thus do I pass my ling'ring life in woe ”