The voice of Haemon, or the gods deceive me.’
Thus urged by our despairing lord, we made
Th’ espial. And in the farthest nook of the vault
We saw the maiden hanging by the neck
With noose of finest tissue firmly tied,
And clinging to her on his knees the boy,
Lamenting o’er his ruined nuptial-rite,
Consummated in death, his father’s crime
And his lost love. And when the father saw him,
With loud and dreadful clamour bursting in
He went to him and called him piteously:
‘What deed is this, unhappy youth? What thought
O’ermaster’d thee? Where did the force of woe
O’erturn thy reason? O come forth, my son,
I beg thee!’ But with savage eyes the youth
Glared scowling at him, and without a word
Plucked forth his two-edged blade. The father then
Fled and escaped: but the unhappy boy,
Wroth with himself, even where he stood, leant heavily
Upon his sword and plunged it in his side.—
And while the sense remained, his slackening arm
Enfolded still the maiden, and his breath,
Gaspingly drawn and panted forth with pain,
Cast ruddy drops upon her pallid face;
Then lay in death upon the dead, at last
Joined to his bride in Hades’ dismal hall:—
A monument unto mankind, that rashness
Is the worst evil of this mortal state.
Ch. What augur ye from this? The queen is gone
Without word spoken either good or bad.
Mess. I, too, am struck with dread. But hope consoles me,
That having heard the affliction of her son,
Her pride forbids to publish her lament
Before the town, but to her maids within
She will prescribe to mourn the loss of the house.
She is too tried in judgement to do ill.
Ch. I cannot tell. The extreme of silence, too,
Is dangerous, no less than much vain noise.
