Lectures Delivered in America in 1874 — John Shaqi
Lectures Delivered in America in 1874Kingsley, Charles
History
Lectures Delivered in America in 1874
Kingsley, Charles
Speeches, addresses, etc.
They break out in fury against the overbearing arrogance of these younger
gods. Athené bears their rage with equanimity, addresses them in the
language of kindness, even of veneration, till these so indomitable
beings are unable to withstand the charm of her mild eloquence. They are
to have a sanctuary in the Athenian land, and to be called no more Furies
(Erinnys), but Eumenides—the _well-conditioned_—the kindly goddesses.
And all ends with a solemn procession round the orchestra, with hymns of
blessing, while the terrible Chorus of the Furies, clothed in black, with
blood-stained girdles, and serpents in their hair, in masks having
perhaps somewhat of the terrific beauty of Medusa-masks, are convoyed to
their new sanctuary by a procession of children, women, and old men in
purple robes and torches in their hands, after Athené and the Furies have
sung, in response to each other, a chorus from which I must beg leave to
give you an extract or two.
_Eldest Fury_ (_Leader of the Chorus_).
Far from thy dwelling, and far from thy border,
By the grace of my godhead benignant I order
The blight which may blacken the bloom of the trees.
Far from thy border, and far from thy dwelling,
Be the hot blast which shrivels the bud in its swelling,
The seed-rotting taint, and the creeping disease.
Thy flocks be still doubled, thy seasons be steady,
And when Hermes is near thee, thy hand be still ready
The Heaven-dropt bounty to seize.
_Athené_.
Hear her words, my city’s warders—
Fraught with blessings, she prevaileth
With Olympians and Infernals,
Dread Erinnys much revered.
Mortal faith she guideth plainly
To what goal she pleaseth, sending
Songs to some, to others days
With tearful sorrows dulled.
_Furies_.
Far from thy border
The lawless disorder
That sateless of evil shall reign;
Far from thy dwelling,
The dear blood welling,
That taints thine own hearth with the slain.
When slaughter from slaughter
Shall flow like the water,
And rancour from rancour shall grow.
But joy with joy blending,
Live, each to all lending;
And hating one-hearted the foe.
When bliss hath departed;
From love single-hearted,
A fountain of healing shall flow.
_Athené_.
Wisely now the tongue of kindness
Thou hast found, the way of love.
And these terror-speaking faces
Now look wealth to me and mine.
Her so willing, ye more willing,
Now receive. This land and city,
On ancient right securely throned,
Shall shine for evermore.
_Furies_.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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