The Tragedies of Euripides, Volume I.
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HEC. Agamemnon, it never were fitting among men that the tongue should have greater force than actions. But if a man has acted well, well should he speak; if on the other hand basely, his words likewise should be unsound, and never ought he to be capable of speaking unjust things well. Perhaps indeed they who have brought these things to a pitch of accuracy are accounted wise, but they can not endure wise unto the end, but perish vilely, nor has any one yet escaped this. And this in my prelude is what I have to say to thee. Now am I going to direct my discourse to this man, and I will answer his arguments. Thou, that assertest, that in order to rid the Greeks of their redoubled toil, and for Agamemnon's sake that thou didst slay my son? But, in the first place, monstrous villain, never can the race of barbarians be friendly to the Grecians, never can this take place. But what favor wert thou so eagerly currying? wert thou about to contract an alliance, or was it that thou wert of kindred birth, or what pretext hadst thou? or were they about to ravage the crops of thy country, having sailed thither again? Whom, thinkest thou, wilt thou persuade of these things? The gold, if thou wert willing to speak truth, the gold destroyed my son, and thy base gains. For come, tell me this; how when Troy was prosperous, and a tower yet girt around the city, and Priam lived, and the spear of Hector was in its glory, why didst thou not then, if thou wert willing to lay him under this obligation, bringing up my child, and retaining him in thy palace, why didst thou not then slay him, or go and take him alive to the Greeks? But when we were no longer in the light of prosperity, and the city by its smoke showed that it was in the power of the enemy, thou slewest thy guest who had come to thy hearth. Now hear besides how thou wilt appear vile: thou oughtest, if thou wert the friend of the Greeks, to have given the gold, which thou confessedst thou hast, not thine, but his, distributing to those who were in need, and had long been strangers to their native land. But thou, even now, hast not courage to part with it from thy hand, but having it, thou still art keeping it close in thine house. And yet, in bringing up my child, as it was thy duty to bring him up, and in preserving him, thou hadst had fair honor. For in adversity friends are most clearly proved good. But good circumstances have in every case their friends. But if thou wert in want of money, and he in a flourishing condition, my son had been to thee a vast treasure; but now, thou neither hast him for thy friend, and the benefit from the gold is gone, and thy sons are gone, and thou art – as thou art. But to thee, Agamemnon, I say; if thou aidest this man, thou wilt appear to be doing wrong. For thou wilt be conferring a benefit on a host, who is neither pious, nor faithful to those to whom he ought, not holy, not just. But we shall say that thou delightest in the bad, if thus thou actest: but I speak no offense to my lords.
CHOR. Ah! Ah! How do good deeds ever supply to men the source of good words!
AGA. Thankless my office to decide on others' grievances; but still I must, for it brings disgrace on a man, having taken a thing in hand, to give it up. But to me, be assured, thou neither appearest for my sake, nor for the sake of the Grecians, to have killed this man thy guest, but that thou mightest possess the gold in thy palace. But thou talkest of thy advantage, when thou art in calamities.29 Perhaps with you it is a slight thing to kill your guests; but with us Grecians this thing is abhorred. How then, in giving my decision that thou hast not injured, can I escape blame? I can not; but as thou hast dared to do things dishonorable, endure now things unpleasant.
POLY. Alas me! worsted, as it seems, by a woman who is a slave, I shall submit to the vengeance of my inferiors.
AGA. Will it not then be justly, seeing thou hast acted wrong?
POLY. Alas me! wretched on account of these children and on account of my eyes.
HEC. Thou sufferest? but what do I? Thinkest thou I suffer not for my child?
POLY. Thou rejoicest in insulting me, O thou malicious woman.
HEC. For ought not I to rejoice on having avenged myself on thee?
POLY. But thou wilt not soon, when the liquid wave —
HEC. Shall bear me, dost thou mean, to the confines of the Grecian land?
POLY. – shall cover thee, having fallen from the shrouds.
HEC. From whom meeting with this violent leap?
POLY. Thyself shalt climb with thy feet up the ship's mast.
HEC. Having wings on my back, or in what way?
POLY. Thou shalt become a dog with a fiery aspect.
HEC. But how dost thou know of this my metamorphose?
POLY. Dionysius the Thracian prophet told it me.
HEC. But did he not declare to thee any of the evils which thou sufferest?
POLY. No: for, if he had, thou never wouldst thus treacherously have taken me.
HEC. 30Thence shall I conclude my life in death, or still live on?
POLY. Thou shalt die. But the name of thy tomb shall be —
HEC. Dost thou speak of it as in any way correspondent to my shape?
POLY. 31The tomb of the wretched dog, a mark to mariners.
HEC. I heed it not, since thou at least hast felt my vengeance.
POLY. And it is fated too for thy daughter Cassandra to die.
HEC. I renounce these prophecies; I give them for thyself to bear.
POLY. Him shall his wife slay, a cruel guardian of his house.
HEC. Never yet may the daughter of Tyndarus have arrived at such madness.
POLY. Even this man himself, having lifted up the axe.
AGA. What ho! thou art mad, and art desirous of obtaining greater ills.
POLY. Kill me, for the murderous bath at Argos awaits thee.
AGA. Will ye not, slaves, forcibly drag him from my presence?
POLY. Thou art galled at what thou hearest.
AGA. Will ye not stop his mouth?
POLY. Stop it: for the word is spoken.
AGA. Will ye not as quick as possible cast him out on some desert island, since he is thus, and past endurance insolent? But do thou, wretched Hecuba, go and bury thy two dead: and you, O Trojan dames, must approach your masters' tents, for I perceive that the gales are favorable for wafting us to our homes. And may we sail in safety to our native country, and behold our household and families in prosperity, having found rest from these toils.
CHOR. Come, my friends, to the harbor, and the tents, to undergo the tasks imposed by our masters. For necessity is relentless.
ORESTES
PERSONS REPRESENTED
ELECTRA.
HELEN.
HERMIONE.
CHORUS.
ORESTES.
MENELAUS.
TYNDARUS.
PYLADES.
A PHRYGIAN.
APOLLO.
THE ARGUMENT
Orestes, in revenge for the murder of his father, took off Ægisthus and Clyætmnestra; but having dared to slay his mother, he was instantly punished for it by being afflicted with madness. But on Tyndarus, the father of her who was slain, laying an accusation against him, the Argives were about to give a public decision on this question, "What ought he, who has dared this impious deed, to suffer?" By chance Menelaus, having returned from his wanderings, sent in Helen indeed by night, but himself came by day, and being entreated by Orestes to aid him, he rather feared Tyndarus the accuser: but when the speeches came to be spoken among the populace, the multitude were stirred up to kill Orestes. * * * * But Pylades, his friend, accompanying him, counseled him first to take revenge on Menelaus by killing Helen. As they were going on this project, they were disappointed of their hope by the Gods snatching away Helen from them. But Electra delivered up Hermione, when she made her appearance, into their hands, and they were about to kill her. When Menelaus came, and saw himself bereft by them at once of his wife and child, he endeavored to storm the palace; but they, anticipating his purpose, threatened to set it on fire. Apollo, however, having appeared, said that he had conducted Helen to the Gods, and commanded Orestes to take Hermione to wife, and Electra to dwell with Pylades, and, after that he was purified of the murder, to reign over Argos.
The scene of the piece is laid at Argos; But the chorus consists of Argive women, intimate associates of Electra, who also come on inquiring about the calamity of Orestes. The play has a catastrophe rather suited to comedy. The opening scene of the play is thus arranged. Orestes is discovered before the palace of Agamemnon, fatigued, and, on account of his madness, lying on a couch on which Electra is sitting by him at his feet. A difficulty has been started, why does not she sit at his head? for thus would she seem to watch more tenderly over her brother, if she sat nearer him. The poet, it is answered, seems to have made this arrangement on account of the Chorus; for Orestes, who had but just then and with difficulty gotten to sleep, would have been awakened, if the women that constituted the Chorus had stood nearer to him. But this we may infer from what Electra says to the Chorus, "Σιγα, σιγα, λεπτον ιχνος αρβυληις." It is probable then that the above is the reason of this arrangement.
The play is among the most celebrated on the stage, but infamous in its morals; for, with the exception of Pylades, all the characters are bad persons.
ORESTES
ELECTRA
There is no word so dreadful to relate, nor suffering, nor heaven-inflicted calamity, the burden of which human nature may not be compelled to bear. For Tantalus, the blest, (and I am not reproaching his fortune, when I say this,) the son of Jupiter, as they report, trembling at the rock which impends over his head, hangs in the air, and suffers this punishment, as they say indeed, because, although being a man, yet having the honor of a table in common with the Gods upon equal terms, he possessed an ungovernable tongue, a most disgraceful malady. He begat Pelops, and from him sprung Atreus, for whom the Goddess having carded the wool32 spun the thread of contention, and doomed him to make war on Thyestes his relation; (why must I commemorate things unspeakable?) But Atreus then33 killed his children – and feasted him. But from Atreus, for I pass over in silence the misfortunes which intervened, sprung Agamemnon, the illustrious, (if he was indeed illustrious,) and Menelaus; their mother Aërope of Crete. But Menelaus indeed marries Helen, the hated of the Gods, but King Agamemnon obtained Clytæmnestra's bed, memorable throughout the Grecians: from whom we virgins were born, three from one mother; Chrysothemis, and Iphigenia, and myself Electra; and Orestes the male part of the family, from a most unholy mother, who slew her husband, having covered him around with an inextricable robe; the reason however it is not decorous in a virgin to tell; I leave this undeclared for men to consider as they will. But why indeed must I accuse the injustice of Phœbus? Yet persuaded he Orestes to kill that mother that brought him forth, a deed which gained not a good report from all men. But nevertheless he did slay her, as he would not be disobedient to the God. I also took a share in the murder, but such as a woman ought to take. As did Pylades also who perpetrated this deed with us. From that time wasting away, the wretched Orestes is afflicted with a grievous malady, but falling on his couch there lies, but his mother's blood whirls him to frenzy (for I dread to mention those Goddesses, the Eumenides, who persecute him with terror). Moreover this is the sixth day since his slaughtered mother was purified by fire as to her body. During which he has neither taken any food down his throat, he has not bathed his limbs, but covered beneath his cloak, when indeed his body is lightened of its disease, on coming to his right mind he weeps, but at another time starts suddenly from his couch, as a colt from his yoke. But it has been decreed by this city of Argos, that no one shall receive us who have slain a mother under their roof, nor at their fire, and that none shall speak to us; but this is the appointed day, in the which the city of the Argives will pronounce their vote, whether it is fitting that we should die being stoned with stones, or having whet the sword, should plunge it into our necks. But I yet have some hope that we may not die, for Menelaus has arrived at this country from Troy, and filling the Nauplian harbor with his oars is mooring his fleet off the shore, having been lost in wanderings from Troy a long time: but the much-afflicted Helen has he sent before to our palace, having taken advantage of the night, lest any of those, whose children died under Ilium, when they saw her coming, by day, might go so far as to stone her; but she is within bewailing her sister, and the calamity of her family. She has however some consolation in her woes, for the virgin Hermione, whom Menelaus bringing from Sparta, left at our palace, when he sailed to Troy, and gave as a charge to my mother to bring up, in her she rejoices, and forgets her miseries. But I am looking at each avenue when I shall see Menelaus present, since, for the rest, we ride on slender power,34 if we receive not some succor from him; the house of the unfortunate is an embarrassed state of affairs.
ELECTRA. HELEN
HEL. O daughter of Clytæmnestra and Agamemnon, O Electra, thou that hast remained a virgin a long time. How are ye, O wretched woman, both you, and your brother, the wretched Orestes (he was the murderer of his mother)? For by thy converse I am not polluted, transferring, as I do, the blame to Phœbus. And yet I groan the death of Clytæmnestra, whom, after that I sailed to Troy, (how did I sail, urged by the maddening fate of the Gods!) I saw not, but of her bereft I lament my fortune.
ELEC. Helen, why should I inform thee of things thou seest thyself here present, the race of Agamemnon in calamities. I indeed sleepless sit companion to the wretched corse, (for he is a corse, in that he breathes so little,) but at his fortune I murmur not. But thou a happy woman, and thy husband a happy man, have come to us, who fare most wretchedly.
HEL. But what length of time has he been lying on his couch?
ELEC. Ever since he shed his parent's blood.
HEL. Oh wretched, and his mother too, that thus she perished!
ELEC. These things are thus, so that he is unable to speak for misery.
HEL. By the Gods wilt thou oblige me in a thing, O virgin?
ELEC. As far as I am permitted by the little leisure I have from watching by my brother.
HEL. Wilt thou go to the tomb of my sister?
ELEC. My mother's tomb dost thou desire? wherefore?
HEL. Bearing the first offerings of my hair, and my libations.
ELEC. But is it not lawful for thee to go to the tomb of thy friends?
HEL. No, for I am ashamed to show myself among the Argives.
ELEC. Late art thou discreet, then formerly leaving thine home disgracefully.
HEL. True hast thou spoken, but thou speakest not pleasantly to me.
ELEC. But what shame possesses thee among the Myceneans?
HEL. I fear the fathers of those who are dead under Ilium.
ELEC. For this is a dreadful thing; and at Argos thou art declaimed against by every one's mouth.
HEL. Do thou then grant me this favor, and free me from this fear.
ELEC. I can not look upon the tomb of my mother.
HEL. And yet it is disgraceful for servants to bear these.
ELEC. But why not send thy daughter Hermione?
HEL. It is not well for virgins to go among the crowd.
ELEC. And yet she might repay the dead the care of her education.
HEL. Right hast thou spoken, and I obey thee, O virgin, and I will send my daughter, for thou sayest well. Come forth, my child Hermione, before the house, and take these libations in thine hand, and my hair, and, going to the tomb of Clytæmnestra, leave there this mixture of milk and honey, and the froth of wine, and standing on the summit of the mound, say thus: "Helen, thy sister, presents thee with these libations, in fear herself to approach thy tomb, and afraid of the populace of Argos: " and bid her hold kind intentions toward me, and thyself, and my husband, and toward these two miserable persons whom the God has destroyed. But promise all the offerings to the manes, whatever it is fitting that I should perform for a sister. Go, my child, hasten, and when thou hast offered the libations at the tomb, remember to return back as speedily as possible.
ELEC. [alone] O Nature, what a great evil art thou among men, and the safeguard of those who possess thee, with virtue! For see, how she has shorn off the extremities of her hair, in order to preserve her beauty; but she is the same woman she always was. May the Gods detest thee, for that thou hast destroyed me, and this man, and the whole state of Greece: oh wretch that I am! But my dear friends that accompany me in my lamentations are again present; perhaps they will disturb the sleeper from his slumber, and will melt my eyes in tears when I behold my brother raving.
ELECTRA, CHORUS
ELEC. O most dear woman, proceed with a gentle foot, make no noise, let there be heard no sound. For your friendliness is very kind, but to awake him will be a calamity to me. Hush, hush – gently advance the tread of thy sandal, make no noise, let there be heard no sound. Move onward from that place – onward from before the couch.
CHOR. Behold, I obey.
ELEC. St! st! Speak to me, my friend, as the breathing of the soft reed pipe.
CHOR. See, I utter a voice low as an under note.
ELEC. Ay, thus come hither, come hither, approach quietly – go quietly: tell me, for what purpose, I pray, are ye come? For he has fallen on his couch, and been sleeping some time.
CHOR. How is he? Give us an account of him, my friend.
ELEC. What fortune can I say of him? and what his calamities? still indeed he breathes, but sighs at short intervals.
CHOR. What sayest thou? Oh, the unhappy man!
ELEC. You will kill him if you move his eyelids, now that he is taking the sweetest enjoyment of sleep.
CHOR. Unfortunate on account of these most angry deeds from heaven! oh! wretched on account of thy sufferings!
ELEC. Alas! alas! Apollo himself unjust, then spoke unjust things, when at the tripod of Themis he commanded the unhallowed, inauspicious murder of my mother.
CHOR. Dost thou see? he moves his body in the robes that cover him.
ELEC. You by your cries, O wretch, have disturbed him from his sleep.
CHOR. I indeed think he is sleeping yet.
ELEC. Will you not depart from us? will you not bend your footsteps back from the house, ceasing this noise?
CHOR. He sleeps.
ELEC. Thou sayest well.
CHOR. Venerable, venerable Night, thou that dispensest sleep to languid mortals, come from Erebus; come, come, borne on thy wings to the house of Agamemnon; for by our griefs and by our sufferings we are quite undone, undone.
ELEC. Ye were making a noise.
CHOR. No. (Note35.)
ELEC. Silently, silently repressing the high notes of your voice, apart from his couch, you will enable him to have the tranquil enjoyment of sleep.
CHOR. Tell us; what end to his miseries awaits him?
ELEC. Death, death; what else can? for he has no appetite for food.
CHOR. Death then is manifestly before him.
ELEC. Phœbus offered us as victims, when he commanded36 the dreadful, abhorred murder of our mother, that slew our father.
CHOR. With justice indeed, but not well.
ELEC. Thou hast died, thou hast died, O mother, O thou that didst bring me forth, but hast killed the father, and the children of thy blood. We perish, we perish, even as two corses. For thou art among the dead, and the greatest part of my life is passed in groans, and wailings, and nightly tears; marriageless, childless, behold, how like a miserable wretch do I drag out my existence forever!
CHOR. O virgin Electra, approach near, and look that thy brother has not died unobserved by thee; for by this excessive quiet he doth not please me.
ORESTES, ELECTRA, CHORUS
ORES. O precious balm of sleep, thou that relievest my malady, how pleasant didst thou come to me in the time of need! O divine oblivion of my sufferings, how wise thou art, and the goddess to be supplicated by all in distress! – whence, in heaven's name, came I hither? and how brought? for I remember not things past, bereaved, as I am, of my senses.
ELEC. My dearest brother, how didst thou delight me when thou didst fall asleep! wilt thou I touch thee, and raise thy body up?
ORES. Raise me then, raise me, and wipe the clotted foam from off my wretched mouth, and from my eyes.
ELEC. Behold, the task is sweet, and I refuse not to administer to a brother's limbs with a sister's hand.
ORES. Lay thy side by my side, and remove the squalid hair from my face, for I see but imperfectly with my eyes.
ELEC. O wretched head, sordid with ringlets, how art thou disordered from long want of the bath!
ORES. Lay me on the couch again; when my fit of madness gives me a respite, I am feeble and weak in my limbs.
ELEC. Behold, the couch is pleasant to the sick man, an irksome thing to keep, but still a necessary one.
ORES. Again raise me upright – turn my body.
CHOR. Sick persons are hard to be pleased from their feebleness.
ELEC. Wilt thou set thy feet on the ground, putting forward thy long-discontinued37 step? In all things change is sweet.
ORES. Yes, by all means; for this has a semblance of health, but the semblance is good, though it be distant from the truth.
ELEC. Hear now therefore, O my brother, while yet the Furies suffer thee to have thy right faculties.
ORES. Wilt thou tell any news? and if good indeed, thou art conferring pleasure; but if it pertain at all to mischief – I have enough distress.
ELEC. Menelaus has arrived, the brother of thy father, but his ships are moored in the Nauplian bay.
ORES. How sayest? Is he come, a light in mine and thy sufferings, a man of kindred blood, and that hath received benefits from our father?
ELEC. He is come; take this a sure proof of my words, bringing with him Helen from the walls of Troy.
ORES. Had he been saved alone, he had been more blest. But if he brings his wife, he has arrived with a mighty evil.
ELEC. Tyndarus begat an offspring of daughters, a conspicuous mark for blame, and infamous throughout Greece.
ORES. Do thou then be unlike the bad, for it is in thy power. And not only say, but also hold these sentiments.
ELEC. Alas! my brother, thine eye rolls wildly; quick art thou changed to madness, so late in thy senses.
ORES. O mother, I implore thee, urge not on me those Furies gazing blood, horrid with snakes, for these, these are leaping around me.
ELEC. Remain, O wretched man, calmly on thy couch, for thou seest none of those things, which thou fanciest thou seest plainly.
ORES. O Phœbus, these dire Goddesses in the shape of dogs will kill me, these gorgon-visaged ministers of hell.
ELEC. I will not let thee go, but, putting my arm around thee, will stop thy starting into those unfortunate convulsions.
ORES. Loose me. Thou art one of my Furies, and seizest me by the middle, that thou mayest hurl me into Tartarus.
ELEC. Oh! wretched me! what assistance can I obtain, since we have on us the vengeful wrath of heaven!
ORES. Give me my bow of horn, the gift of Phœbus, with which Apollo said I should repel the Fiends, if they appalled me by their maddened raging.
ELEC. Shall any God be wounded by mortal hand? (Note38.)
ORES. Yes. She shall, if she will not depart from my sight… Hear ye not – see ye not the winged shafts impelled from the distant-wounding bow? Ha! ha! Why tarry ye yet? Skim the high air with your wings, and impeach the oracles of Phœbus. – Ah! why am I thus disquieted, heaving my panting breath from my lungs? Whither, whither have I wandered from my couch? For from the waves again I see a calm. – Sister, why weepest, hiding thine eyes beneath thy vests, I am ashamed to have thee a partner in my sufferings, and to give a virgin trouble through my malady. Pine not away on account of my miseries: for thou indeed didst assent to this, but the shedding of my mother's blood was accomplished by me: but I blame Apollo, who, after having instigated me to a most unholy act, with words indeed consoled me, but not with deeds. But I think that my father, had I, beholding him, asked him if it were right for me to slay my mother, would have put forth many supplications, beseeching me by this beard not to impel my sword to the slaughter of her who bore me, if neither he thereby could be restored to life, and I thus wretched must go through such miseries. And now then unveil thyself, my sister, and cease from tears, even though we be very miserable: but when thou seest me desponding, do thou restrain my distraction, and that which preys upon my mind, and console me; but when thou groanest, it becomes my duty to come to thee, and suggest words of comfort. For these are the good offices friends ought to render each other. But go thou into the house, O unfortunate sister, and, stretched at full length, compose thy sleepless eyelids to sleep, and take refreshment, and pour the bath upon thy fair skin. For if thou forsakest me, or gettest any illness by continually sitting by me, we perish; for thee I have my only succor, by the rest, as thou seest, abandoned.