The Beginning of the Story - Page 15 of 25

225   I acted a Eteocles;
Adolphus was Polynices;
Adrastus' role – a mate took this;
Menander played Jocasta's piece.

226   Well, with the first encounter due,
Our roles made enemies of us two;
That I should know him his cue,
Oedipus' son, my brother true.

227   His eyes flashed fire, and what he said
Was not his script, not this he read;
'Despoiler', uttered he instead,
Thief of my honor, be thou dead!'

228   And sprang on me, with this speech made,
Forearmed with a deadly blade.
Had I not dodged, low were I laid
Beneath the stabs he thrice essayed.

229   So fell I, warding off these three;
A fiercer thrust attempted he.
O thanks, Menander, dear to me,
My life had ended but for thee!

230   The stroke of death was stayed therefore,
Far-flung the sword that Adolph bore,
Our teacher came then to the fore;
My friend fell senseless to the floor.

231   So this was how our pleasures went,
To end in shock and sorrow blent.
Before the light of day was spent,
Adolph was to Albania sent.

232   I stayed in Athens yet one year
Waiting for word from Father dear.
Alas! a letter reached me here,
Each word a stab, envenomed sheer.

233   O thoughts of sorrow without truce,
Ne'er washed away by tears profuse,
My mind and judgment you confuse
And peace unto the breast refuse!

234   Of Death that gave nor thought nor heart
To Mother dear, stored ban thou art!
Thou wouldst recall the wound, the smart
That note had opened like a dart!

235   Now will I help thee to aggrieve
This heart that will not take reprieve
My mother died. O past retrieve
The loss! the first my life to cleave.

236   I fell into a fainting fit,
Reading what cruel pen had writ.
My father! How could you transmit
Such note as sealed my death in it?

237   For two hours in the fainting spell,
I sensed not Self, nor where I fell;
Had friends not cared for me so well,
I were not here this tale to tell.

238   With sense regained, I suffered so:
Mine eyes, like pools became; and O
How I lamented, wailed my woe
Save when my breath fell short and low!

239   Those days, the feeling in me born
Was of one world-spoken, lorn,
All, all alone, in gloom to mourn,
My very life a foe forsworn.

240   My anguish all too fierce became
For teacher's soothing tone to tame.
Sad tears he wept; but while they came,
Could ease me not from Sorrow's claim.