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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:44:12 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:44:12 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/14322-0.txt b/14322-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5093fe5 --- /dev/null +++ b/14322-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3621 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14322 *** + +THE + +ELECTRA + +OF + +EURIPIDES + + +TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH RHYMING VERSE +WITH EXPLANATORY NOTES BY + +GILBERT MURRAY, LL.D., D.LITT. + +REGIUS PROFESSOR OF GREEK IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD + + +FORTY-SECOND THOUSAND + + +LONDON: GEORGE ALLEN & UNWIN LTD +RUSKIN HOUSE, 40 MUSEUM STREET, W.C.1 + + +_First Edition, November_ 1905 +_Reprinted, November_ 1906 + " _February_ 1908 + " _March_ 1910 + " _December_ 1910 + " _February_ 1913 + " _April_ 1914 + " _June_ 1916 + " _November_ 1919 + " _April_ 1921 + " _January_ 1923 + " _May_ 1925 + " _August_ 1927 + " _January_ 1929 + +_(All rights reserved)_ + + +PERFORMED AT +THE COURT THEATRE, LONDON +IN 1907 + +_Printed in Great Britain by +Unwin Brothers Ltd., Woking_ + + + + +Introduction[1] + + +The _Electra_ of Euripides has the distinction of being, perhaps, the best +abused, and, one might add, not the best understood, of ancient tragedies. +"A singular monument of poetical, or rather unpoetical perversity;" "the +very worst of all his pieces;" are, for instance, the phrases applied to +it by Schlegel. Considering that he judged it by the standards of +conventional classicism, he could scarcely have arrived at any different +conclusion. For it is essentially, and perhaps consciously, a protest +against those standards. So, indeed, is the tragedy of _The Trojan Women_; +but on very different lines. The _Electra_ has none of the imaginative +splendour, the vastness, the intense poetry, of that wonderful work. It is +a close-knit, powerful, well-constructed play, as realistic as the tragic +conventions will allow, intellectual and rebellious. Its _psychology_ +reminds one of Browning, or even of Ibsen. + +To a fifth-century Greek all history came in the form of legend; and no +less than three extant tragedies, Aeschylus' _Libation-Bearers_ (456 +B.C.), Euripides' _Electra_ (413 B.C.), and Sophocles' _Electra_ (date +unknown: but perhaps the latest of the three) are based on the particular +piece of legend or history now before us. It narrates how the son and +daughter of the murdered king, Agamemnon, slew, in due course of revenge, +and by Apollo's express command, their guilty mother and her paramour. + +Homer had long since told the story, as he tells so many, simply and +grandly, without moral questioning and without intensity. The atmosphere +is heroic. It is all a blood-feud between chieftains, in which Orestes, +after seven years, succeeds in slaying his foe Aegisthus, who had killed +his father. He probably killed his mother also; but we are not directly +told so. His sister may have helped him, and he may possibly have gone mad +afterwards; but these painful issues are kept determinedly in the shade. + +Somewhat surprisingly, Sophocles, although by his time Electra and +Clytemnestra had become leading figures in the story and the mother-murder +its essential climax, preserves a very similar atmosphere. His tragedy is +enthusiastically praised by Schlegel for "the celestial purity, the fresh +breath of life and youth, that is diffused over so dreadful a subject." +"Everything dark and ominous is avoided. Orestes enjoys the fulness of +health and strength. He is beset neither with doubts nor stings of +conscience." Especially laudable is the "austerity" with which Aegisthus +is driven into the house to receive, according to Schlegel, a specially +ignominious death! + +This combination of matricide and good spirits, however satisfactory to +the determined classicist, will probably strike most intelligent readers +as a little curious, and even, if one may use the word at all in +connection with so powerful a play, undramatic. It becomes intelligible as +soon as we observe that Sophocles was deliberately seeking what he +regarded as an archaic or "Homeric" style (cf. Jebb, Introd. p. xli.); and +this archaism, in its turn, seems to me best explained as a conscious +reaction against Euripides' searching and unconventional treatment of the +same subject (cf. Wilamowitz in _Hermes_, xviii. pp. 214 ff.). In the +result Sophocles is not only more "classical" than Euripides; he is more +primitive by far than Aeschylus. + +For Aeschylus, though steeped in the glory of the world of legend, would +not lightly accept its judgment upon religious and moral questions, and +above all would not, in that region, play at make-believe. He would not +elude the horror of this story by simply not mentioning it, like Homer, or +by pretending that an evil act was a good one, like Sophocles. He faces +the horror; realises it; and tries to surmount it on the sweep of a great +wave of religious emotion. The mother-murder, even if done by a god's +command, is a sin; a sin to be expiated by unfathomable suffering. Yet, +since the god cannot have commanded evil, it is a duty also. It is a sin +that _must_ be committed. + +Euripides, here as often, represents intellectually the thought of +Aeschylus carried a step further. He faced the problem just as Aeschylus +did, and as Sophocles did not. But the solution offered by Aeschylus did +not satisfy him. It cannot, in its actual details, satisfy any one. To him +the mother-murder--like most acts of revenge, but more than most--was a +sin and a horror. Therefore it should not have been committed; and the god +who enjoined it _did_ command evil, as he had done in a hundred other +cases! He is no god of light; he is only a demon of old superstition, +acting, among other influences, upon a sore-beset man, and driving him +towards a miscalled duty, the horror of which, when done, will unseat his +reason. + +But another problem interests Euripides even more than this. What kind of +man was it--above all, what kind of woman can it have been, who would do +this deed of mother-murder, not in sudden fury but deliberately, as an act +of "justice," after many years? A "sympathetic" hero and heroine are out +of the question; and Euripides does not deal in stage villains. He seeks +real people. And few attentive readers of this play can doubt that he has +found them. + +The son is an exile, bred in the desperate hopes and wild schemes of +exile; he is a prince without a kingdom, always dreaming of his wrongs and +his restoration; and driven by the old savage doctrine, which an oracle +has confirmed, of the duty and manliness of revenge. He is, as was shown +by his later history, a man subject to overpowering impulses and to fits +of will-less brooding. Lastly, he is very young, and is swept away by his +sister's intenser nature. + +That sister is the central figure of the tragedy. A woman shattered in +childhood by the shock of an experience too terrible for a girl to bear; a +poisoned and a haunted woman, eating her heart in ceaseless broodings of +hate and love, alike unsatisfied--hate against her mother and stepfather, +love for her dead father and her brother in exile; a woman who has known +luxury and state, and cares much for them; who is intolerant of poverty, +and who feels her youth passing away. And meantime there is her name, on +which all legend, if I am not mistaken, insists; she is _A-lektra_, "the +Unmated." + +There is, perhaps, no woman's character in the range of Greek tragedy so +profoundly studied. Not Aeschylus' Clytemnestra, not Phaedra nor Medea. +One's thoughts can only wander towards two great heroines of "lost" plays, +Althaea in the _Meleager_, and Stheneboea in the _Bellerophon_. + +G.M. + +[Footnote 1: Most of this introduction is reprinted, by the kind +permission of the Editors, from an article in the _Independent Review_ +vol. i. No. 4.] + + + + +ELECTRA + + + + + CHARACTERS IN THE PLAY + + +CLYTEMNESTRA, _Queen of Argos and Mycenae; widow of Agamemnon_. + +ELECTRA, _daughter of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra_. + +ORESTES, _son of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra, now in banishment_. + +A PEASANT, _husband of Electra_. + +AN OLD MAN, _formerly servant to Agamemnon_. + +PYLADES, _son of Strophios, King of Phocis; friend to Orestes_. + +AEGISTHUS, _usurping King of Argos and Mycenae, now husband of +Clytemnestra_. + +The Heroes CASTOR and POLYDEUCES. + +CHORUS of Argive Women, with their LEADER. + +FOLLOWERS of ORESTES; HANDMAIDS of CLYTEMNESTRA. + +_The Scene is laid in the mountains of Argos. The play was first produced +between the years_ 414 _and_ 412 B.C. + + + + + ELECTRA + + +_The scene represents a hut on a desolate mountain side; the river Inachus +is visible in the distance. The time is the dusk of early dawn, before +sunrise. The_ PEASANT _is discovered in front of the hut_. + +PEASANT. + +Old gleam on the face of the world, I give thee hail, +River of Argos land, where sail on sail +The long ships met, a thousand, near and far, +When Agamemnon walked the seas in war; +Who smote King Priam in the dust, and burned +The storied streets of Ilion, and returned +Above all conquerors, heaping tower and fane +Of Argos high with spoils of Eastern slain. + +So in far lands he prospered; and at home +His own wife trapped and slew him. 'Twas the doom +Aegisthus wrought, son of his father's foe. + +Gone is that King, and the old spear laid low +That Tantalus wielded when the world was young. +Aegisthus hath his queen, and reigns among +His people. And the children here alone, +Orestes and Electra, buds unblown +Of man and womanhood, when forth to Troy +He shook his sail and left them--lo, the boy +Orestes, ere Aegisthus' hand could fall, +Was stolen from Argos--borne by one old thrall, +Who served his father's boyhood, over seas +Far off, and laid upon King Strophios' knees +In Phocis, for the old king's sake. But here +The maid Electra waited, year by year, +Alone, till the warm days of womanhood +Drew nigh and suitors came of gentle blood +In Hellas. Then Aegisthus was in fear +Lest she be wed in some great house, and bear +A son to avenge her father. Close he wrought +Her prison in his house, and gave her not +To any wooer. Then, since even this +Was full of peril, and the secret kiss +Of some bold prince might find her yet, and rend +Her prison walls, Aegisthus at the end +Would slay her. Then her mother, she so wild +Aforetime, pled with him and saved her child. +Her heart had still an answer for her lord +Murdered, but if the child's blood spoke, what word +Could meet the hate thereof? After that day +Aegisthus thus decreed: whoso should slay +The old king's wandering son, should win rich meed +Of gold; and for Electra, she must wed +With me, not base of blood--in that I stand +True Mycenaean--but in gold and land +Most poor, which maketh highest birth as naught. +So from a powerless husband shall be wrought +A powerless peril. Had some man of might +Possessed her, he had called perchance to light +Her father's blood, and unknown vengeances +Risen on Aegisthus yet. + Aye, mine she is: +But never yet these arms--the Cyprian knows +My truth!--have clasped her body, and she goes +A virgin still. Myself would hold it shame +To abase this daughter of a royal name. +I am too lowly to love violence. Yea, +Orestes too doth move me, far away, +Mine unknown brother! Will he ever now +Come back and see his sister bowed so low? + +Doth any deem me fool, to hold a fair +Maid in my room and seek no joy, but spare +Her maidenhood? If any such there be, +Let him but look within. The fool is he +In gentle things, weighing the more and less +Of love by his own heart's untenderness. + +[_As he ceases_ ELECTRA _comes out of the hut. She is in mourning garb, +and carries a large pitcher on her head. She speaks without observing the_ +PEASANT'S _presence_. + +ELECTRA. + +Dark shepherdess of many a golden star, +Dost see me, Mother Night? And how this jar +Hath worn my earth-bowed head, as forth and fro +For water to the hillward springs I go? +Not for mere stress of need, but purpose set, +That never day nor night God may forget +Aegisthus' sin: aye, and perchance a cry +Cast forth to the waste shining of the sky +May find my father's ear.... The woman bred +Of Tyndareus, my mother--on her head +Be curses!--from my house hath outcast me; +She hath borne children to our enemy; +She hath made me naught, she hath made Orestes naught.... + +[_As the bitterness of her tone increases, the_ PEASANT _comes forward._ + +PEASANT. + +What wouldst thou now, my sad one, ever fraught +With toil to lighten my toil? And so soft +Thy nurture was! Have I not chid thee oft, +And thou wilt cease not, serving without end? + +ELECTRA (_turning to him with impulsive affection_). + +O friend, my friend, as God might be my friend, +Thou only hast not trampled on my tears. +Life scarce can be so hard, 'mid many fears +And many shames, when mortal heart can find +Somewhere one healing touch, as my sick mind +Finds thee.... And should I wait thy word, to endure +A little for thine easing, yea, or pour +My strength out in thy toiling fellowship? +Thou hast enough with fields and kine to keep; +'Tis mine to make all bright within the door. +'Tis joy to him that toils, when toil is o'er, +To find home waiting, full of happy things. + +PEASANT. + +If so it please thee, go thy way. The springs +Are not far off. And I before the morn +Must drive my team afield, and sow the corn +In the hollows.--Not a thousand prayers can gain +A man's bare bread, save an he work amain. + +[ELECTRA _and the_ PEASANT _depart on their several ways. After a few +moments there enter stealthily two armed men,_ ORESTES _and_ PYLADES. + +ORESTES. + +Thou art the first that I have known in deed +True and my friend, and shelterer of my need. +Thou only, Pylades, of all that knew, +Hast held Orestes of some worth, all through +These years of helplessness, wherein I lie +Downtrodden by the murderer--yea, and by +The murderess, my mother!... I am come, +Fresh from the cleansing of Apollo, home +To Argos--and my coming no man yet +Knoweth--to pay the bloody twain their debt +Of blood. This very night I crept alone +To my dead father's grave, and poured thereon +My heart's first tears and tresses of my head +New-shorn, and o'er the barrow of the dead +Slew a black lamb, unknown of them that reign +In this unhappy land.... I am not fain +To pass the city gates, but hold me here +Hard on the borders. So my road is clear +To fly if men look close and watch my way; +If not, to seek my sister. For men say +She dwelleth in these hills, no more a maid +But wedded. I must find her house, for aid +To guide our work, and learn what hath betid +Of late in Argos.--Ha, the radiant lid +Of Dawn's eye lifteth! Come, friend; leave we now +This trodden path. Some worker of the plough, +Or serving damsel at her early task +Will presently come by, whom we may ask +If here my sister dwells. But soft! Even now +I see some bondmaid there, her death-shorn brow +Bending beneath its freight of well-water. +Lie close until she pass; then question her. +A slave might help us well, or speak some sign +Of import to this work of mine and thine. + +[_The two men retire into ambush._ ELECTRA _enters, returning from the +well._ + +ELECTRA. + + Onward, O labouring tread, + As on move the years; + Onward amid thy tears, + O happier dead! + +Let me remember. I am she, [_Strophe_ 1. +Agamemnon's child, and the mother of me +Clytemnestra, the evil Queen, +Helen's sister. And folk, I ween, +That pass in the streets call yet my name +Electra.... God protect my shame! + For toil, toil is a weary thing, + And life is heavy about my head; + And thou far off, O Father and King, + In the lost lands of the dead. +A bloody twain made these things be; +One was thy bitterest enemy, +And one the wife that lay by thee. + +Brother, brother, on some far shore [_Antistrophe_ 1. +Hast thou a city, is there a door +That knows thy footfall, Wandering One? +Who left me, left me, when all our pain +Was bitter about us, a father slain, +And a girl that wept in her room alone. + Thou couldst break me this bondage sore, + Only thou, who art far away, + Loose our father, and wake once more.... + Zeus, Zeus, dost hear me pray?... +The sleeping blood and the shame and the doom! +O feet that rest not, over the foam +Of distant seas, come home, come home! + +What boots this cruse that I carry? [_Strophe_ 2. + O, set free my brow! +For the gathered tears that tarry + Through the day and the dark till now, +Now in the dawn are free, + Father, and flow beneath +The floor of the world, to be + As a song in she house of Death: +From the rising up of the day +They guide my heart alway, +The silent tears unshed, +And my body mourns for the dead; +My cheeks bleed silently, + And these bruised temples keep +Their pain, remembering thee + And thy bloody sleep. + +Be rent, O hair of mine head! + +As a swan crying alone + Where the river windeth cold, +For a loved, for a silent one, + Whom the toils of the fowler hold, +I cry, Father, to thee, +O slain in misery! + +The water, the wan water, [_Antistrophe_ 2. + Lapped him, and his head +Drooped in the bed of slaughter + Low, as one wearièd; +Woe for the edgèd axe, + And woe for the heart of hate, +Houndlike about thy tracks, + O conqueror desolate, +From Troy over land and sea, +Till a wife stood waiting thee; +Not with crowns did she stand, +Nor flowers of peace in her hand; +With Aegisthus' dagger drawn + For her hire she strove, +Through shame and through blood alone; + And won her a traitor's love. + +[_As she ceases there enter from right and left the_ CHORUS, _consisting +of women of Argos, young and old, in festal dress_. + + + CHORUS. + + _Some Women._ + +Child of the mighty dead, [_Strophe_. + Electra, lo, my way +To thee in the dawn hath sped, + And the cot on the mountain grey, + For the Watcher hath cried this day: +He of the ancient folk, + The walker of waste and hill, +Who drinketh the milk of the flock; + And he told of Hera's will; +For the morrow's morrow now + They cry her festival, +And before her throne shall bow + Our damsels all. + +ELECTRA. + +Not unto joy, nor sweet + Music, nor shining of gold, +The wings of my spirit beat. + Let the brides of Argos hold + Their dance in the night, as of old; +I lead no dance; I mark + No beat as the dancers sway; +With tears I dwell in the dark, + And my thought is of tears alway, + To the going down of the day. +Look on my wasted hair +And raiment.... This that I bear, +Is it meet for the King my sire, + And her whom the King begot? +For Troy, that was burned with fire + And forgetteth not? + + + CHORUS. + + _Other Women._ + +Hera is great!--Ah, come, [_Antistrophe_. + Be kind; and my hand shall bring +Fair raiment, work of the loom, + And many a golden thing, + For joyous robe-wearing. +Deemest thou this thy woe + Shall rise unto God as prayer, +Or bend thine haters low? + Doth God for thy pain have care? +Not tears for the dead nor sighs, + But worship and joy divine +Shall win thee peace in thy skies, + O daughter mine! + +ELECTRA. + +No care cometh to God + For the voice of the helpless; none +For the crying of ancient blood. + Alas for him that is gone, + And for thee, O wandering one: +That now, methinks, in a land + Of the stranger must toil for hire, +And stand where the poor men stand, + A-cold by another's fire, + O son of the mighty sire: +While I in a beggar's cot +On the wrecked hills, changing not, +Starve in my soul for food; + But our mother lieth wed +In another's arms, and blood + Is about her bed. + +LEADER. + +On all of Greece she wrought great jeopardy, +Thy mother's sister, Helen,--and on thee. + +[ORESTES _and_ PYLADES _move out from their concealment_; ORESTES _comes +forward_: PYLADES _beckons to two_ ARMED SERVANTS _and stays with them in +the background_. + +ELECTRA. + +Woe's me! No more of wailing! Women, flee! +Strange armèd men beside the dwelling there +Lie ambushed! They are rising from their lair. +Back by the road, all you. I will essay +The house; and may our good feet save us! + +ORESTES (_between_ ELECTRA _and the hut_). + + Stay, +Unhappy woman! Never fear my steel. + +ELECTRA (_in utter panic_). + +O bright Apollo! Mercy! See, I kneel; +Slay me not. + +ORESTES. + + Others I have yet to slay +Less dear than thou. + +ELECTRA. + + Go from me! Wouldst thou lay +Hand on a body that is not for thee? + +ORESTES. + +None is there I would touch more righteously. + +ELECTRA. + +Why lurk'st thou by my house? And why a sword? + +ORESTES. + +Stay. Listen! Thou wilt not gainsay my word. + +ELECTRA. + +There--I am still. Do what thou wilt with me. +Thou art too strong. + +ORESTES. + + A word I bear to thee... +Word of thy brother. + +ELECTRA. + + Oh, friend! More than friend! +Living or dead? + +ORESTES. + + He lives; so let me send +My comfort foremost, ere the rest be heard. + +ELECTRA. + +God love thee for the sweetness of thy word! + +ORESTES. + +God love the twain of us, both thee and me. + +ELECTRA. + +He lives! Poor brother! In what land weareth he +His exile? + +ORESTES. + + Not one region nor one lot +His wasted life hath trod. + +ELECTRA. + + He lacketh not +For bread? + +ORESTES. + + Bread hath he; but a man is weak +In exile. + +ELECTRA. + +What charge laid he on thee? Speak. + +ORESTES. + +To learn if thou still live, and how the storm, +Living, hath struck thee. + +ELECTRA. + + That thou seest; this form +Wasted... + +ORESTES. + + Yea, riven with the fire of woe. +I sigh to look on thee. + +ELECTRA. + + My face; and, lo, +My temples of their ancient glory shorn. + +ORESTES. + +Methinks thy brother haunts thee, being forlorn; +Aye, and perchance thy father, whom they slew... + +ELECTRA. + +What should be nearer to me than those two? + +ORESTES. + +And what to him, thy brother, half so dear +As thou? + +ELECTRA. + His is a distant love, not near +At need. + +ORESTES. + + But why this dwelling place, this life +Of loneliness? + +ELECTRA (_with sudden bitterness_). + + Stranger, I am a wife.... +O better dead! + +ORESTES. + + That seals thy brother's doom! +What Prince of Argos...? + +ELECTRA. + + Not the man to whom +My father thought to give me. + +ORESTES. + + Speak; that I +May tell thy brother all. + +ELECTRA. + + 'Tis there, hard by, +His dwelling, where I live, far from men's eyes. + +ORESTES. + +Some ditcher's cot, or cowherd's, by its guise! + +ELECTRA (_struck with shame for her ingratitude_). + +A poor man; but true-hearted, and to me +God-fearing. + +ORESTES. + + How? What fear of God hath he? + +ELECTRA. + +He hath never held my body to his own. + +ORESTES. + +Hath he some vow to keep? Or is it done +To scorn thee? + +ELECTRA. + + Nay; he only scorns to sin +Against my father's greatness. + +ORESTES. + + But to win +A princess! Doth his heart not leap for pride? + +ELECTRA. + +He honoureth not the hand that gave the bride. + +ORESTES. + +I see. He trembles for Orestes' wrath? + +ELECTRA. + +Aye, that would move him. But beside, he hath +A gentle heart. + +ORESTES. + + Strange! A good man.... I swear +He well shall be requited. + +ELECTRA. + + Whensoe'er +Our wanderer comes again! + +ORESTES. + + Thy mother stays +Unmoved 'mid all thy wrong? + +ELECTRA. + + A lover weighs +More than a child in any woman's heart. + +ORESTES. + +But what end seeks Aegisthus, by such art +Of shame? + +ELECTRA. + + To make mine unborn children low +And weak, even as my husband. + +ORESTES. + + Lest there grow +From thee the avenger? + +ELECTRA. + + Such his purpose is: +For which may I requite him! + +ORESTES. + + And of this +Thy virgin life--Aegisthus knows it? + +ELECTRA. + + Nay, +We speak it not. It cometh not his way. + +ORESTES. + +These women hear us. Are they friends to thee? + +ELECTRA. + +Aye, friends and true. They will keep faithfully +All words of mine and thine. + +ORESTES (_trying her_). + + Thou art well stayed +With friends. And could Orestes give thee aid +In aught, if e'er... + +ELECTRA. + + Shame on thee! Seest thou not? +Is it not time? + +ORESTES (_catching her excitement_). + + How time? And if he sought +To slay, how should he come at his desire? + +ELECTRA. + +By daring, as they dared who slew his sire! + +ORESTES. + +Wouldst thou dare with him, if he came, thou too, +To slay her? + +ELECTRA. + + Yes; with the same axe that slew +My father! + +ORESTES. + + 'Tis thy message? And thy mood +Unchanging? + +ELECTRA. + + Let me shed my mother's blood, +And I die happy. + +ORESTES. + + God!... I would that now +Orestes heard thee here. + +ELECTRA. + + Yet, wottest thou, +Though here I saw him, I should know him not. + +ORESTES. + +Surely. Ye both were children, when they wrought +Your parting. + +ELECTRA. + + One alone in all this land +Would know his face. + +ORESTES. + + The thrall, methinks, whose hand +Stole him from death--or so the story ran? + +ELECTRA. + +He taught my father, too, an old old man +Of other days than these. + +ORESTES. + + Thy father's grave... +He had due rites and tendance? + +ELECTRA. + + What chance gave, +My father had, cast out to rot in the sun. + +ORESTES. + +God, 'tis too much!... To hear of such things done +Even to a stranger, stings a man.... But speak, +Tell of thy life, that I may know, and seek +Thy brother with a tale that must be heard +Howe'er it sicken. If mine eyes be blurred, +Remember, 'tis the fool that feels not. Aye, +Wisdom is full of pity; and thereby +Men pay for too much wisdom with much pain. + +LEADER. + +My heart is moved as this man's. I would fain +Learn all thy tale. Here dwelling on the hills +Little I know of Argos and its ills. + +ELECTRA. + +If I must speak--and at love's call, God knows, +I fear not--I will tell thee all; my woes, +My father's woes, and--O, since thou hast stirred +This storm of speech, thou bear him this my word-- +His woes and shame! Tell of this narrow cloak +In the wind; this grime and reek of toil, that choke +My breathing; this low roof that bows my head +After a king's. This raiment ... thread by thread, +'Tis I must weave it, or go bare--must bring, +Myself, each jar of water from the spring. +No holy day for me, no festival, +No dance upon the green! From all, from all +I am cut off. No portion hath my life +'Mid wives of Argos, being no true wife. +No portion where the maidens throng to praise +Castor--my Castor, whom in ancient days, +Ere he passed from us and men worshipped him, +They named my bridegroom!-- + And she, she!... The grim +Troy spoils gleam round her throne, and by each hand +Queens of the East, my father's prisoners, stand, +A cloud of Orient webs and tangling gold. +And there upon the floor, the blood, the old +Black blood, yet crawls and cankers, like a rot +In the stone! And on our father's chariot +The murderer's foot stands glorying, and the red +False hand uplifts that ancient staff, that led +The armies of the world!... Aye, tell him how +The grave of Agamemnon, even now, +Lacketh the common honour of the dead; +A desert barrow, where no tears are shed, +No tresses hung, no gift, no myrtle spray. +And when the wine is in him, so men say, +Our mother's mighty master leaps thereon, +Spurning the slab, or pelteth stone on stone, +Flouting the lone dead and the twain that live: +"Where is thy son Orestes? Doth he give +Thy tomb good tendance? Or is all forgot?" +So is he scorned because he cometh not.... + +O Stranger, on my knees, I charge thee, tell +This tale, not mine, but of dumb wrongs that swell +Crowding--and I the trumpet of their pain, +This tongue, these arms, this bitter burning brain; +These dead shorn locks, and he for whom they died! +His father slew Troy's thousands in their pride; +He hath but one to kill.... O God, but one! +Is he a man, and Agamemnon's son? + +LEADER. + +But hold: is this thy husband from the plain, +His labour ended, hasting home again? + +_Enter the_ PEASANT. + +PEASANT. + +Ha, who be these? Strange men in arms before +My house! What would they at this lonely door? +Seek they for me?--Strange gallants should not stay +A woman's goings. + +ELECTRA. + + Friend and helper!--Nay, +Think not of any evil. These men be +Friends of Orestes, charged with words for me!... +Strangers, forgive his speech. + +PEASANT. + + What word have they +Of him? At least he lives and sees the day! + +ELECTRA. + +So fares their tale--and sure I doubt it not! + +PEASANT. + +And ye two still are living in his thought, +Thou and his father? + +ELECTRA. + + In his dreams we live. +An exile hath small power. + +PEASANT. + + And did he give +Some privy message? + +ELECTRA. + + None: they come as spies +For news of me. + +PEASANT. + + Thine outward news their eyes +Can see; the rest, methinks, thyself will tell. + +ELECTRA. + +They have seen all, heard all. I trust them well. + +PEASANT. + +Why were our doors not open long ago?-- +Be welcome, strangers both, and pass below +My lintel. In return for your glad words +Be sure all greeting that mine house affords +Is yours.--Ye followers, bear in their gear!-- +Gainsay me not; for his sake are ye dear +That sent you to our house; and though my part +In life be low, I am no churl at heart. + +[_The_ PEASANT _goes to the_ ARMED SERVANTS _at the back, to help them +with the baggage._ + +ORESTES (_aside to_ ELECTRA). + +Is this the man that shields thy maidenhood +Unknown, and will not wrong thy father's blood? + +ELECTRA. + +He is called my husband. 'Tis for him I toil. + +ORESTES. + +How dark lies honour hid! And what turmoil +In all things human: sons of mighty men +Fallen to naught, and from ill seed again +Good fruit: yea, famine in the rich man's scroll +Writ deep, and in poor flesh a lordly soul. +As, lo, this man, not great in Argos, not +With pride of house uplifted, in a lot +Of unmarked life hath shown a prince's grace. + [_To the_ PEASANT, _who has returned._ +All that is here of Agamemnon's race, +And all that lacketh yet, for whom we come, +Do thank thee, and the welcome of thy home +Accept with gladness.--Ho, men; hasten ye +Within!--This open-hearted poverty +Is blither to my sense than feasts of gold. + +Lady, thine husband's welcome makes me bold; +Yet would thou hadst thy brother, before all +Confessed, to greet us in a prince's hall! +Which may be, even yet. Apollo spake +The word; and surely, though small store I make +Of man's divining, God will fail us not. + +[ORESTES _and_ PYLADES _go in, following the_ SERVANTS. + +LEADER. + +O never was the heart of hope so hot +Within me. How? So moveless in time past, +Hath Fortune girded up her loins at last? + +ELECTRA. + +Now know'st thou not thine own ill furniture, +To bid these strangers in, to whom for sure +Our best were hardship, men of gentle breed? + +PEASANT. + +Nay, if the men be gentle, as indeed +I deem them, they will take good cheer or ill +With even kindness. + +ELECTRA. + + 'Twas ill done; but still-- +Go, since so poor thou art, to that old friend +Who reared my father. At the realm's last end +He dwells, where Tanaos river foams between +Argos and Sparta. Long time hath he been +An exile 'mid his flocks. Tell him what thing +Hath chanced on me, and bid him haste and bring +Meat for the strangers' tending.--Glad, I trow, +That old man's heart will be, and many a vow +Will lift to God, to learn the child he stole +From death, yet breathes.--I will not ask a dole +From home; how should my mother help me? Nay, +I pity him that seeks that door, to say +Orestes liveth! + +PEASANT. + + Wilt thou have it so? +I will take word to the old man. But go +Quickly within, and whatso there thou find +Set out for them. A woman, if her mind +So turn, can light on many a pleasant thing +To fill her board. And surely plenishing +We have for this one day.--'Tis in such shifts +As these, I care for riches, to make gifts +To friends, or lead a sick man back to health +With ease and plenty. Else small aid is wealth +For daily gladness; once a man be done +With hunger, rich and poor are all as one. + +[_The_ PEASANT _goes off to the left_; ELECTRA _goes into the house._ + + * * * * * + +CHORUS. + +O for the ships of Troy, the beat [_Strophe_ 1. + Of oars that shimmered +Innumerable, and dancing feet + Of Nereids glimmered; +And dolphins, drunken with the lyre, +Across the dark blue prows, like fire, + Did bound and quiver, +To cleave the way for Thetis' son, +Fleet-in-the-wind Achilles, on +To war, to war, till Troy be won + Beside the reedy river. + +Up from Euboea's caverns came [_Antistrophe_ 1. + The Nereids, bearing +Gold armour from the Lords of Flame, + Wrought for his wearing: +Long sought those daughters of the deep, +Up Pelion's glen, up Ossa's steep + Forest enchanted, +Where Peleus reared alone, afar, +His lost sea-maiden's child, the star +Of Hellas, and swift help of war + When weary armies panted. + +There came a man from Troy, and told [_Strophe_ 2. + Here in the haven, +How, orb on orb, to strike with cold +The Trojan, o'er that targe of gold, + Dread shapes were graven. +All round the level rim thereof +Perseus, on wingèd feet, above + The long seas hied him; +The Gorgon's wild and bleeding hair +He lifted; and a herald fair, +He of the wilds, whom Maia bare, + God's Hermes, flew beside him. + + [_Antistrophe_ 2. +But midmost, where the boss rose higher, + A sun stood blazing, +And wingèd steeds, and stars in choir, +Hyad and Pleiad, fire on fire, + For Hector's dazing: +Across the golden helm, each way, +Two taloned Sphinxes held their prey, + Song-drawn to slaughter: +And round the breastplate ramping came +A mingled breed of lion and flame, +Hot-eyed to tear that steed of fame + That found Pirênê's water. + +The red red sword with steeds four-yoked [_Epode_. + Black-maned, was graven, +That laboured, and the hot dust smoked + Cloudwise to heaven. +Thou Tyndarid woman! Fair and tall +Those warriors were, and o'er them all + One king great-hearted, +Whom thou and thy false love did slay: +Therefore the tribes of Heaven one day +For these thy dead shall send on thee +An iron death: yea, men shall see +The white throat drawn, and blood's red spray, + And lips in terror parted. + +[_As they cease, there enters from the left a very old man, bearing a +lamb, a wineskin, and a wallet_. + +OLD MAN. + +Where is my little Princess? Ah, not now; +But still my queen, who tended long ago +The lad that was her father.... How steep-set +These last steps to her porch! But faint not yet: +Onward, ye failing knees and back with pain +Bowed, till we look on that dear face again. + [_Enter_ ELECTRA. +Ah, daughter, is it thou?--Lo, here I am, +With gifts from all my store; this suckling lamb +Fresh from the ewe, green crowns for joyfulness, +And creamy things new-curdled from the press. +And this long-storèd juice of vintages +Forgotten, cased in fragrance: scant it is, +But passing sweet to mingle nectar-wise +With feebler wine.--Go, bear them in; mine eyes... +Where is my cloak?--They are all blurred with tears. + +ELECTRA. + +What ails thine eyes, old friend? After these years +Doth my low plight still stir thy memories? +Or think'st thou of Orestes, where he lies +In exile, and my father? Aye, long love +Thou gavest him, and seest the fruit thereof +Wasted, for thee and all who love thee! + +OLD MAN. + + All +Wasted! And yet 'tis that lost hope withal +I cannot brook. But now I turned aside +To see my master's grave. All, far and wide, +Was silence; so I bent these knees of mine +And wept and poured drink-offerings from the wine +I bear the strangers, and about the stone +Laid myrtle sprays. And, child, I saw thereon +Just at the censer slain, a fleeced ewe, +Deep black, in sacrifice: the blood was new +About it: and a tress of bright brown hair +Shorn as in mourning, close. Long stood I there +And wondered, of all men what man had gone +In mourning to that grave.--My child, 'tis none +In Argos. Did there come ... Nay, mark me now... +Thy brother in the dark, last night, to bow +His head before that unadorèd tomb? + O come, and mark the colour of it. Come +And lay thine own hair by that mourner's tress! +A hundred little things make likenesses +In brethren born, and show the father's blood. + +ELECTRA (_trying to mask her excitement and resist the contagion of his_). + +Old heart, old heart, is this a wise man's mood?... +O, not in darkness, not in fear of men, +Shall Argos find him, when he comes again, +Mine own undaunted ... Nay, and if it were, +What likeness could there be? My brother's hair +Is as a prince's and a rover's, strong +With sunlight and with strife: not like the long +Locks that a woman combs.... And many a head +Hath this same semblance, wing for wing, tho' bred +Of blood not ours.... 'Tis hopeless. Peace, old man. + +OLD MAN. + +The footprints! Set thy foot by his, and scan +The track of frame and muscles, how they fit! + +ELECTRA. + +That ground will take no footprint! All of it +Is bitter stone.... It hath?... And who hath said +There should be likeness in a brother's tread +And sister's? His is stronger every way. + +OLD MAN. + +But hast thou nothing...? If he came this day +And sought to show thee, is there no one sign +Whereby to know him?... Stay; the robe was thine, +Work of thy loom, wherein I wrapt him o'er +That night and stole him through the murderers' door. + +ELECTRA. + +Thou knowest, when Orestes was cast out +I was a child.... If I did weave some clout +Of raiment, would he keep the vesture now +He wore in childhood? Should my weaving grow +As his limbs grew?... 'Tis lost long since. No more! +O, either 'twas some stranger passed, and shore +His locks for very ruth before that tomb: +Or, if he found perchance, to seek his home, +Some spy... + +OLD MAN. + +The strangers! Where are they? I fain +Would see them, aye, and bid them answer plain... + +ELECTRA. + +Here at the door! How swift upon the thought! + +_Enter_ ORESTES _and_ PYLADES. + +OLD MAN. + +High-born: albeit for that I trust them not. +The highest oft are false.... Howe'er it be, + +[_Approaching them_. + +I bid the strangers hail! + +ORESTES. + + All hail to thee, +Greybeard!--Prithee, what man of all the King +Trusted of old, is now this broken thing? + +ELECTRA. + +'Tis he that trained my father's boyhood. + +ORESTES. + + How? +And stole from death thy brother? Sayest thou? + +ELECTRA. + +This man was his deliverer, if it be +Deliverance. + +ORESTES. + + How his old eye pierceth me, +As one that testeth silver and alloy! +Sees he some likeness here? + +ELECTRA. + + Perchance 'tis joy, +To see Orestes' comrade, that he feels. + +ORESTES. + +None dearer.--But what ails the man? He reels +Dizzily back. + +ELECTRA. + + I marvel. I can say +No more. + +OLD MAN (_in a broken voice_). + + Electra, mistress, daughter, pray! +Pray unto God! + +ELECTRA. + + Of all the things I crave, +The thousand things, or all that others have, +What should I pray for? + +OLD MAN. + + Pray thine arms may hold +At last this treasure-dream of more than gold +God shows us! + +ELECTRA. + + God, I pray thee!... Wouldst thou more? + +OLD MAN. + +Gaze now upon this man, and bow before +Thy dearest upon earth! + +ELECTRA. + + I gaze on thee! +O, hath time made thee mad? + +OLD MAN. + + Mad, that I see +Thy brother? + +ELECTRA. + + My ... I know not what thou say'st: +I looked not for it... + +OLD MAN. + + I tell thee, here confessed +Standeth Orestes, Agamemnon's son! + +ELECTRA. + +A sign before I trust thee! O, but one! +How dost thou know...? + +OLD MAN. + + There, by his brow, I see +The scar he made, that day he ran with thee +Chasing thy fawn, and fell. + +ELECTRA (_in a dull voice_). + + A scar? 'Tis so. +I see a scar. + +OLD MAN. + + And fearest still to throw +Thine arms round him thou lovest? + +ELECTRA. + + O, no more! +Thy sign hath conquered me.... (_throwing herself into_ ORESTES' _arms_). +At last, at last! +Thy face like light! And do I hold thee fast, +Unhoped for? + +ORESTES. + + Yea, at last! And I hold thee. + +ELECTRA. + +I never knew... + +ORESTES. + + I dreamed not. + +ELECTRA. + + Is it he, +Orestes? + +ORESTES. + + Thy defender, yea, alone +To fight the world! Lo, this day have I thrown +A net, which once unbroken from the sea +Drawn home, shall ... O, and it must surely be! +Else men shall know there is no God, no light +In Heaven, if wrong to the end shall conquer right. + +CHORUS. + + Comest thou, comest thou now, + Chained by the years and slow, + O Day long sought? + A light on the mountains cold + Is lit, yea, a fire burneth, + 'Tis the light of one that turneth + From roamings manifold, + Back out of exile old + To the house that knew him not. + + Some spirit hath turned our way, + Victory visible, + Walking at thy right hand, + Belovèd; O lift this day + Thine arms, thy voice, as a spell; + And pray for thy brother, pray, + Threading the perilous land, + That all be well! + +ORESTES. + +Enough; this dear delight is mine at last +Of thine embracing; and the hour comes fast +When we shall stand again as now we stand, +And stint not.--Stay, Old Man: thou, being at hand +At the edge of time, advise me, by what way +Best to requite my father's murderers. Say, +Have I in Argos any still to trust; +Or is the love, once borne me, trod in dust, +Even as my fortunes are? Whom shall I seek? +By day or night? And whither turn, to wreak +My will on them that hate us? Say. + +OLD MAN. + + My son, +In thine adversity, there is not one +Will call thee friend. Nay, that were treasure-trove, +A friend to share, not faltering from love, +Fair days and foul the same. Thy name is gone +Forth to all Argos, as a thing o'erthrown +And dead. Thou hast not left one spark to glow +With hope in one friend's heart! Hear all, and know: +Thou hast God's fortune and thine own right hand, +Naught else, to conquer back thy fatherland. + +ORESTES. + +The deed, the deed! What must we do? + +OLD MAN. + + Strike down +Aegisthus ... and thy mother. + +ORESTES. + + 'Tis the crown +My race is run for. But how find him? + +OLD MAN. + + Not +Within the city walls, however hot +Thy spirit. + +ORESTES. + + Ha! With watchers doth he go +Begirt, and mailèd pikemen? + +OLD MAN. + + Even so: +He lives in fear of thee, and night nor day +Hath slumber. + +ORESTES. + + That way blocked!--'Tis thine to say +What next remains. + +OLD MAN. + + I will; and thou give ear. +A thought has found me! + +ORESTES. + + All good thoughts be near, +For thee to speak and me to understand! + +OLD MAN. + +But now I saw Aegisthus, close at hand +As here I journeyed. + +ORESTES. + + That good word shall trace +My path for me! Thou saw'st him? In what place? + +OLD MAN. + +Out on the pastures where his horses stray. + +ORESTES. + +What did he there so far?--A gleam of day +Crosseth our darkness. + +OLD MAN. + + 'Twas a feast, methought, +Of worship to the wild-wood nymphs he wrought. + +ORESTES. + +The watchers of men's birth? Is there a son +New born to him, or doth he pray for one +That cometh? [_Movement of_ ELECTRA. + +OLD MAN. + + More I know not; he had there +A wreathed ox, as for some weighty prayer. + +ORESTES. + +What force was with him? Not his serfs alone? + +OLD MAN. + +No Argive lord was there; none but his own +Household. + +ORESTES. + + Not any that aught know my face, +Or guess? + +OLD MAN. + + Thralls, thralls; who ne'er have seen thy face. + +ORESTES. + +Once I prevail, the thralls will welcome me! + +OLD MAN. + +The slaves' way, that; and no ill thing for thee! + +ORESTES. + +How can I once come near him? + +OLD MAN. + + Walk thy ways +Hard by, where he may see thee, ere he slays +His sacrifice. + +ORESTES. + + How? Is the road so nigh? + +OLD MAN. + +He cannot choose but see thee, passing by, +And bid thee stay to share the beast they kill. + +ORESTES. + +A bitter fellow-feaster, if God will! + +OLD MAN. + +And then ... then swift be heart and brain, to see +God's chances! + +ORESTES. + + Aye. Well hast thou counselled me. +But ... where is she? + +OLD MAN. + + In Argos now, I guess; +But goes to join her husband, ere the press +Of the feast. + +ORESTES. + + Why goeth not my mother straight +Forth at her husband's side? + +OLD MAN. + + She fain will wait +Until the gathered country-folk be gone. + +ORESTES. + +Enough! She knows what eyes are turned upon +Her passings in the land! + +OLD MAN. + + Aye, all men hate +The unholy woman. + +ORESTES. + + How then can I set +My snare for wife and husband in one breath? + +ELECTRA (_coming forward_). + +Hold! It is I must work our mother's death. + +ORESTES. + +If that be done, I think the other deed +Fortune will guide. + +ELECTRA. + + This man must help our need, +One friend alone for both. + +OLD MAN. + + He will, he will! +Speak on. What cunning hast thou found to fill +Thy purpose? + +ELECTRA. + + Get thee forth, Old Man, and quick +Tell Clytemnestra ... tell her I lie sick, +New-mothered of a man-child. + +OLD MAN. + + Thou hast borne +A son! But when? + +ELECTRA. + + Let this be the tenth morn. +Till then a mother stays in sanctity, +Unseen. + +OLD MAN. + + And if I tell her, where shall be +The death in this? + +ELECTRA. + + That word let her but hear, +Straight she will seek me out! + +OLD MAN. + + The queen! What care +Hath she for thee, or pain of thine? + +ELECTRA. + + She will; +And weep my babe's low station! + +OLD MAN. + + Thou hast skill +To know her, child; say on. + +ELECTRA. + + But bring her here, +Here to my hand; the rest will come. + +OLD MAN. + + I swear, +Here at the gate she shall stand palpable! + +ELECTRA. + +The gate: the gate that leads to me and Hell. + +OLD MAN. + +Let me but see it, and I die content. + +ELECTRA. + +First, then, my brother: see his steps be bent... + +OLD MAN. + +Straight yonder, where Aegisthus makes his prayer! + +ELECTRA. + +Then seek my mother's presence, and declare +My news. + +OLD MAN. + + Thy very words, child, as tho' spoke +From thine own lips! + +ELECTRA. + + Brother, thine hour is struck. +Thou standest in the van of war this day. + +ORESTES (_rousing himself_). + +Aye, I am ready.... I will go my way, +If but some man will guide me. + +OLD MAN. + + Here am I, +To speed thee to the end, right thankfully. + +ORESTES (_turning as he goes and raising his hands to heaven_). + +Zeus of my sires, Zeus of the lost battle, + +ELECTRA. + +Have pity; have pity; we have earned it well! + +OLD MAN. + + Pity these twain, of thine own body sprung! + +ELECTRA. + +O Queen o'er Argive altars, Hera high, + +ORESTES. + +Grant us thy strength, if for the right we cry. + +OLD MAN. + + Strength to these twain, to right their father's wrong! + +ELECTRA. + +O Earth, deep Earth, to whom I yearn in vain, + +ORESTES. + +And deeper thou, O father darkly slain, + +OLD MAN. + + Thy children call, who love thee: hearken thou! + +ORESTES. + +Girt with thine own dead armies, wake, O wake! + +ELECTRA. + +With all that died at Ilion for thy sake ... + +OLD MAN. + + And hate earth's dark defilers; help us now! + +ELECTRA. + +Dost hear us yet, O thou in deadly wrong, +Wronged by my mother? + +OLD MAN. + + Child, we stay too long. +He hears; be sure he hears! + +ELECTRA. + + And while he hears, +I speak this word for omen in his ears: +"Aegisthus dies, Aegisthus dies."... Ah me, +My brother, should it strike not him, but thee, +This wrestling with dark death, behold, I too +Am dead that hour. Think of me as one true, +Not one that lives. I have a sword made keen +For this, and shall strike deep. + I will go in +And make all ready. If there come from thee +Good tidings, all my house for ecstasy +Shall cry; and if we hear that thou art dead, +Then comes the other end!--Lo, I have said. + +ORESTES. + +I know all, all. + +ELECTRA. + + Then be a man to-day! + + [ORESTES _and the_ OLD MAN _depart_. + +O Women, let your voices from this fray +Flash me a fiery signal, where I sit, +The sword across my knees, expecting it. +For never, though they kill me, shall they touch +My living limbs!--I know my way thus much. + + [_She goes into the house_. + + * * * * * + +CHORUS. + + When white-haired folk are met [_Strophe_. + In Argos about the fold, + A story lingereth yet, + A voice of the mountains old, + That tells of the Lamb of Gold: + A lamb from a mother mild, + But the gold of it curled and beat; + And Pan, who holdeth the keys of the wild, + Bore it to Atreus' feet: + His wild reed pipes he blew, + And the reeds were filled with peace, + And a joy of singing before him flew, + Over the fiery fleece: + And up on the basèd rock, + As a herald cries, cried he: + "Gather ye, gather, O Argive folk, + The King's Sign to see, + The sign of the blest of God, + For he that hath this, hath all!" + Therefore the dance of praise they trod + In the Atreïd brethren's hall. + + They opened before men's eyes [_Antistrophe_. + That which was hid before, + The chambers of sacrifice, + The dark of the golden door, + And fires on the altar floor. + And bright was every street, + And the voice of the Muses' tree. + The carven lotus, was lifted sweet; + When afar and suddenly, + Strange songs, and a voice that grew: + "Come to your king, ye folk! + Mine, mine, is the Golden Ewe!" + 'Twas dark Thyestes spoke. + For, lo, when the world was still, + With his brother's bride he lay, + And won her to work his will, + And they stole the Lamb away! + Then forth to the folk strode he, + And called them about his fold, + And showed that Sign of the King to be, + The fleece and the horns of gold. + + Then, then, the world was changed; [_Strophe_ 2. + And the Father, where they ranged, + Shook the golden stars and glowing, + And the great Sun stood deranged + In the glory of his going. + + Lo, from that day forth, the East + Bears the sunrise on his breast, + And the flaming Day in heaven + Down the dim ways of the west + Driveth, to be lost at even. + + The wet clouds to Northward beat; + And Lord Ammon's desert seat + Crieth from the South, unslaken, + For the dews that once were sweet, + For the rain that God hath taken. + + 'Tis a children's tale, that old [_Antistrophe_ 2. + Shepherds on far hills have told; + And we reck not of their telling, + Deem not that the Sun of gold + Ever turned his fiery dwelling, + + Or beat backward in the sky, + For the wrongs of man, the cry + Of his ailing tribes assembled, + To do justly, ere they die! + Once, men told the tale, and trembled; + + Fearing God, O Queen: whom thou + Hast forgotten, till thy brow + With old blood is dark and daunted. + And thy brethren, even now, + Walk among the stars, enchanted. + +LEADER. + +Ha, friends, was that a voice? Or some dream sound +Of voices shaketh me, as underground +God's thunder shuddering? Hark, again, and clear! +It swells upon the wind.--Come forth and hear! +Mistress, Electra! + +ELECTRA, _a bare sword in her hand, comes from the house._ + +ELECTRA. + + Friends! Some news is brought? +How hath the battle ended? + +LEADER. + + I know naught. +There seemed a cry as of men massacred! + +ELECTRA. + +I heard it too. Far off, but still I heard. + +LEADER. + +A distant floating voice ... Ah, plainer now! + +ELECTRA. + +Of Argive anguish!--Brother, is it thou? + +LEADER. + +I know not. Many confused voices cry... + +ELECTRA. + +Death, then for me! That answer bids me die. + +LEADER. + +Nay, wait! We know not yet thy fortune. Wait! + +ELECTRA. + +No messenger from him!--Too late, too late! + +LEADER. + +The message yet will come. 'Tis not a thing +So light of compass, to strike down a king. + + _Enter a_ MESSENGER, _running_. + +MESSENGER. + +Victory, Maids of Argos, Victory! +Orestes ... all that love him, list to me!... +Hath conquered! Agamemnon's murderer lies +Dead! O give thanks to God with happy cries! + +ELECTRA. + +Who art thou? I mistrust thee.... 'Tis a plot! + +MESSENGER. + +Thy brother's man. Look well. Dost know me not? + +ELECTRA. + +Friend, friend; my terror made me not to see +Thy visage. Now I know and welcome thee. +How sayst thou? He is dead, verily dead, +My father's murderer...? + +MESSENGER. + + Shall it be said +Once more? I know again and yet again +Thy heart would hear. Aegisthus lieth slain! + +ELECTRA. + +Ye Gods! And thou, O Right, that seest all, +Art come at last?... But speak; how did he fall? +How swooped the wing of death?... I crave to hear. + +MESSENGER. + +Forth of this hut we set our faces clear +To the world, and struck the open chariot road; +Then on toward the pasture lands, where stood +The great Lord of Mycenae. In a set +Garden beside a channelled rivulet, +Culling a myrtle garland for his brow, +He walked: but hailed us as we passed: "How now, +Strangers! Who are ye? Of what city sprung, +And whither bound?" "Thessalians," answered young +Orestes: "to Alpheüs journeying, +With gifts to Olympian Zeus." Whereat the king: +"This while, beseech you, tarry, and make full +The feast upon my hearth. We slay a bull +Here to the Nymphs. Set forth at break of day +To-morrow, and 'twill cost you no delay. +But come"--and so he gave his hand, and led +The two men in--"I must not be gainsaid; +Come to the house. Ho, there; set close at hand +Vats of pure water, that the guests may stand +At the altar's verge, where falls the holy spray." +Then quickly spake Orestes: "By the way +We cleansed us in a torrent stream. We need +No purifying here. But if indeed +Strangers may share thy worship, here are we +Ready, O King, and swift to follow thee." + +So spoke they in the midst. And every thrall +Laid down the spears they served the King withal, +And hied him to the work. Some bore amain +The death-vat, some the corbs of hallowed grain; +Or kindled fire, and round the fire and in +Set cauldrons foaming; and a festal din +Filled all the place. Then took thy mother's lord +The ritual grains, and o'er the altar poured +Its due, and prayed: "O Nymphs of Rock and Mere, +With many a sacrifice for many a year, +May I and she who waits at home for me, +My Tyndarid Queen, adore you. May it be +Peace with us always, even as now; and all +Ill to mine enemies"--meaning withal +Thee and Orestes. Then my master prayed +Against that prayer, but silently, and said +No word, to win once more his fatherland. +Then in the corb Aegisthus set his hand, +Took the straight blade, cut from the proud bull's head +A lock, and laid it where the fire was red; +Then, while the young men held the bull on high, +Slew it with one clean gash; and suddenly +Turned on thy brother: "Stranger, every true +Thessalian, so the story goes, can hew +A bull's limbs clean, and tame a mountain steed. +Take up the steel, and show us if indeed +Rumour speak true," Right swift Orestes took +The Dorian blade, back from his shoulders shook +His broochèd mantle, called on Pylades +To aid him, and waved back the thralls. With ease +Heelwise he held the bull, and with one glide +Bared the white limb; then stripped the mighty hide +From off him, swifter than a runner runs +His furlongs, and laid clean the flank. At once +Aegisthus stooped, and lifted up with care +The ominous parts, and gazed. No lobe was there; +But lo, strange caves of gall, and, darkly raised, +The portal vein boded to him that gazed +Fell visitations. Dark as night his brow +Clouded. Then spake Orestes: "Why art thou +Cast down so sudden?" "Guest," he cried, "there be +Treasons from whence I know not, seeking me. +Of all my foes, 'tis Agamemnon's son; +His hate is on my house, like war." "Have done!" +Orestes cried: "thou fear'st an exile's plot, +Lord of a city? Make thy cold heart hot +With meat.--Ho, fling me a Thessalian steel! +This Dorian is too light. I will unseal +The breast of him." He took the heavier blade, +And clave the bone. And there Aegisthus stayed, +The omens in his hand, dividing slow +This sign from that; till, while his head bent low, +Up with a leap thy brother flashed the sword, +Then down upon his neck, and cleft the cord +Of brain and spine. Shuddering the body stood +One instant in an agony of blood, +And gasped and fell. The henchmen saw, and straight +Flew to their spears, a host of them to set +Against those twain. But there the twain did stand +Unfaltering, each his iron in his hand, +Edge fronting edge. Till "Hold," Orestes calls: +"I come not as in wrath against these walls +And mine own people. One man righteously +I have slain, who slew my father. It is I, +The wronged Orestes! Hold, and smite me not, +Old housefolk of my father!" When they caught +That name, their lances fell. And one old man, +An ancient in the house, drew nigh to scan +His face, and knew him. Then with one accord +They crowned thy brother's temples, and outpoured +joy and loud songs. And hither now he fares +To show the head, no Gorgon, that he bears, +But that Aegisthus whom thou hatest! Yea, +Blood against blood, his debt is paid this day. + +[_He goes off to meet the others_--ELECTRA _stands as though stupefied_. + +CHORUS. + + Now, now thou shalt dance in our dances, + Beloved, as a fawn in the night! + The wind is astir for the glances + Of thy feet; thou art robed with delight. + + He hath conquered, he cometh to free us + With garlands new-won, + More high than the crowns of Alpheüs, + Thine own father's son: + Cry, cry, for the day that is won! + + +ELECTRA. + +O Light of the Sun, O chariot wheels of flame, +O Earth and Night, dead Night without a name +That held me! Now mine eyes are raised to see, +And all the doorways of my soul flung free. +Aegisthus dead! My father's murderer dead! + What have I still of wreathing for the head +Stored in my chambers? Let it come forth now +To bind my brother's and my conqueror's brow. + +[_Some garlands are brought out from the house to_ ELECTRA. + +CHORUS. + +Go, gather thy garlands, and lay them + As a crown on his brow, many-tressed, +But our feet shall refrain not nor stay them: + 'Tis the joy that the Muses have blest. +For our king is returned as from prison, + The old king, to be master again, +Our belovèd in justice re-risen: + With guile he hath slain... + But cry, cry in joyance again! + +[_There enter from the left_ ORESTES _and_ PYLADES, _followed by some +thralls_. + +ELECTRA. + +O conqueror, come! The king that trampled Troy +Knoweth his son Orestes. Come in joy, +Brother, and take to bind thy rippling hair +My crowns!.... O what are crowns, that runners wear +For some vain race? But thou in battle true +Hast felled our foe Aegisthus, him that slew +By craft thy sire and mine. [_She crowns_ ORESTES. + And thou no less, +O friend at need, O reared in righteousness, +Take, Pylades, this chaplet from my hand. +'Twas half thy battle. And may ye two stand +Thus alway, victory-crowned, before my face! [_She crowns_ PYLADES. + +ORESTES. + +Electra, first as workers of this grace +Praise thou the Gods, and after, if thou will, +Praise also me, as chosen to fulfil +God's work and Fate's.--Aye, 'tis no more a dream; +In very deed I come from slaying him. +Thou hast the knowledge clear, but lo, I bring +More also. See himself, dead! + [_Attendants bring in the body of_ AEGISTHUS _on a bier_. + Wouldst thou fling +This lord on the rotting earth for beasts to tear? +Or up, where all the vultures of the air +May glut them, pierce and nail him for a sign +Far off? Work all thy will. Now he is thine. + +ELECTRA. + +It shames me; yet, God knows, I hunger sore-- + +ORESTES. + +What wouldst thou? Speak; the old fear nevermore +Need touch thee. + +ELECTRA. + + To let loose upon the dead +My hate! Perchance to rouse on mine own head +The sleeping hate of the world? + +ORESTES. + + No man that lives +Shall scathe thee by one word. + +ELECTRA. + + Our city gives +Quick blame; and little love have men for me. + +ORESTES. + +If aught thou hast unsaid, sister, be free +And speak. Between this man and us no bar +Cometh nor stint, but the utter rage of war. + [_She goes and stands over the body. A moment's silence_. + +ELECTRA. + + Ah me, what have I? What first flood of hate +To loose upon thee? What last curse to sate +My pain, or river of wild words to flow +Bank-high between?... Nothing?... And yet I know +There hath not passed one sun, but through the long +Cold dawns, over and over, like a song, +I have said them--words held back, O, some day yet +To flash into thy face, would but the fret +Of ancient fear fall loose and let me free. +And free I am, now; and can pay to thee +At last the weary debt. + Oh, thou didst kill +My soul within. Who wrought thee any ill, +That thou shouldst make me fatherless? Aye, me +And this my brother, loveless, solitary? +'Twas thou, didst bend my mother to her shame: +Thy weak hand murdered him who led to fame +The hosts of Hellas--thou, that never crossed +O'erseas to Troy!... God help thee, wast thou lost +In blindness, long ago, dreaming, some-wise, +She would be true with thee, whose sin and lies +Thyself had tasted in my father's place? +And then, that thou wert happy, when thy days +Were all one pain? Thou knewest ceaselessly +Her kiss a thing unclean, and she knew thee +A lord so little true, so dearly won! +So lost ye both, being in falseness one, +What fortune else had granted; she thy curse, +Who marred thee as she loved thee, and thou hers... +And on thy ways thou heardst men whispering, +"Lo, the Queen's husband yonder"--not "the King." + And then the lie of lies that dimmed thy brow, +Vaunting that by thy gold, thy chattels, Thou +Wert Something; which themselves are nothingness. +Shadows, to clasp a moment ere they cease. +The thing thou art, and not the things thou hast, +Abideth, yea, and bindeth to the last +Thy burden on thee: while all else, ill-won +And sin-companioned, like a flower o'erblown, +Flies on the wind away. + Or didst them find +In women ... Women?... Nay, peace, peace! The blind +Could read thee. Cruel wast thou in thine hour, +Lord of a great king's house, and like a tower +Firm in thy beauty. [_Starting back with a look of loathing_. + Ah, that girl-like face! +God grant, not that, not that, but some plain grace +Of manhood to the man who brings me love: +A father of straight children, that shall move +Swift on the wings of War. + + So, get thee gone! +Naught knowing how the great years, rolling on, +Have laid thee bare, and thy long debt full paid. + O vaunt not, if one step be proudly made +In evil, that all Justice is o'ercast: +Vaunt not, ye men of sin, ere at the last +The thin-drawn marge before you glimmereth +Close, and the goal that wheels 'twixt life and death. + +LEADER. + +Justice is mighty. Passing dark hath been +His sin: and dark the payment of his sin. + +ELECTRA (_with a weary sigh, turning from the body_). + +Ah me! Go some of you, bear him from sight, +That when my mother come, her eyes may light +On nothing, nothing, till she know the sword.... + [_The body is borne into the hut_. PYLADES _goes with it_. + +ORESTES (_looking along the road_). + +Stay, 'tis a new thing! We have still a word +To speak... + +ELECTRA. + + What? Not a rescue from the town +Thou seëst? + +ORESTES. + + 'Tis my mother comes: my own +Mother, that bare me. [_He takes off his crown_. + +ELECTRA (_springing, as it were, to life again, and moving where she can +see the road_). + + Straight into the snare! +Aye, there she cometh,--Welcome in thy rare +Chariot! All welcome in thy brave array! + +ORESTES. + +What would we with our mother? Didst thou say +Kill her? + +ELECTRA (_turning on him_). + + What? Is it pity? Dost thou fear +To see thy mother's shape? + +ORESTES. + + 'Twas she that bare +My body into life. She gave me suck. +How can I strike her? + +ELECTRA. + + Strike her as she struck +Our father! + +ORESTES (_to himself, brooding_). + + Phoebus, God, was all thy mind +Turned unto darkness? + +ELECTRA. + + If thy God be blind, +Shalt thou have light? + +ORESTES (_as before_). + + Thou, thou, didst bid me kill +My mother: which is sin. + +ELECTRA. + + How brings it ill +To thee, to raise our father from the dust? + +ORESTES. + +I was a clean man once. Shall I be thrust +From men's sight, blotted with her blood? + +ELECTRA. + + Thy blot +Is black as death if him thou succour not! + +ORESTES. + +Who shall do judgment on me, when she dies? + +ELECTRA. + +Who shall do judgment, if thy father lies. +Forgotten? + +ORESTES (_turning suddenly to_ ELECTRA). + + Stay! How if some fiend of Hell, +Hid in God's likeness, spake that oracle? + +ELECTRA. + +In God's own house? I trow not. + +ORESTES. + + And I trow +It was an evil charge! [_He moves away from her._ + +ELECTRA (_almost despairing_). + + To fail me now! +To fail me now! A coward!--O brother, no! + +ORESTES. + +What shall it be, then? The same stealthy blow ... + +ELECTRA. + +That slew our father! Courage! thou hast slain +Aegisthus. + +ORESTES. + + Aye. So be it.--I have ta'en +A path of many terrors: and shall do +Deeds horrible. 'Tis God will have it so.... +Is this the joy of battle, or wild woe? [_He goes into the house._ + +LEADER. + +O Queen o'er Argos thronèd high, + O Woman, sister of the twain, + God's Horsemen, stars without a stain, +Whose home is in the deathless sky, + Whose glory in the sea's wild pain, +Toiling to succour men that die: +Long years above us hast thou been, + God-like for gold and marvelled power: + Ah, well may mortal eyes this hour +Observe thy state: All hail, O Queen! + +_Enter from the right_ CLYTEMNESTRA _on a chariot, accompanied by richly +dressed Handmaidens_. + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + +Down from the wain, ye dames of Troy, and hold +Mine arm as I dismount.... [_Answering_ ELECTRA'S _thought_. + The spoils and gold +Of Ilion I have sent out of my hall +To many shrines. These bondwomen are all +I keep in mine own house.... Deemst thou the cost +Too rich to pay me for the child I lost-- +Fair though they be? + +ELECTRA. + + Nay, Mother, here am I +Bond likewise, yea, and homeless, to hold high +Thy royal arm! + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + + Child, the war slaves are here; +Thou needst not toil. + +ELECTRA. + + What was it but the spear +Of war, drove me forth too? Mine enemies +Have sacked my father's house, and, even as these, +Captives and fatherless, made me their prey. + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + +It was thy father cast his child away, +A child he might have loved!... Shall I speak out? +(_Controlling herself_) Nay; when a woman once is caught about +With evil fame, there riseth in her tongue +A bitter spirit--wrong, I know! Yet, wrong +Or right, I charge ye look on the deeds done; +And if ye needs must hate, when all is known, +Hate on! What profits loathing ere ye know? + My father gave me to be his. 'Tis so. +But was it his to kill me, or to kill +The babes I bore? Yet, lo, he tricked my will +With fables of Achilles' love: he bore +To Aulis and the dark ship-clutching shore, +He held above the altar-flame, and smote, +Cool as one reaping, through the strainèd throat, +My white Iphigenia.... Had it been +To save some falling city, leaguered in +With foemen; to prop up our castle towers, +And rescue other children that were ours, +Giving one life for many, by God's laws +I had forgiven all! Not so. Because +Helen was wanton, and her master knew +No curb for her: for that, for that, he slew +My daughter!--Even then, with all my wrong, +No wild beast yet was in me. Nay, for long, +I never would have killed him. But he came, +At last, bringing that damsel, with the flame +Of God about her, mad and knowing all: +And set her in my room; and in one wall +Would hold two queens!--O wild are woman's eyes +And hot her heart. I say not otherwise. +But, being thus wild, if then her master stray +To love far off, and cast his own away, +Shall not her will break prison too, and wend +Somewhere to win some other for a friend? +And then on us the world's curse waxes strong +In righteousness! The lords of all the wrong +Must hear no curse!--I slew him. I trod then +The only road: which led me to the men +He hated. Of the friends of Argos whom +Durst I have sought, to aid me to the doom +I craved?--Speak if thou wouldst, and fear not me, +If yet thou deemst him slain unrighteously. + +LEADER. + +Thy words be just, yet shame their justice brings; +A woman true of heart should bear all things +From him she loves. And she who feels it not, +I cannot reason of her, nor speak aught. + +ELECTRA. + +Remember, mother, thy last word of grace, +Bidding me speak, and fear not, to thy face. + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + +So said I truly, child, and so say still. + +ELECTRA. + +Wilt softly hear, and after work me ill? + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + +Not so, not so. I will but pleasure thee. + +ELECTRA. + +I answer then. And, mother, this shall be +My prayer of opening, where hangs the whole: +Would God that He had made thee clean of soul! +Helen and thou--O, face and form were fair, +Meet for men's praise; but sisters twain ye were, +Both things of naught, a stain on Castor's star, +And Helen slew her honour, borne afar +In wilful ravishment: but thou didst slay +The highest man of the world. And now wilt say +'Twas wrought in justice for thy child laid low +At Aulis?... Ah, who knows thee as I know? +Thou, thou, who long ere aught of ill was done +Thy child, when Agamemnon scarce was gone, +Sate at the looking-glass, and tress by tress +Didst comb the twined gold in loneliness. +When any wife, her lord being far away. +Toils to be fair, O blot her out that day +As false within! What would she with a cheek +So bright in strange men's eyes, unless she seek +Some treason? None but I, thy child, could so +Watch thee in Hellas: none but I could know +Thy face of gladness when our enemies +Were strong, and the swift cloud upon thine eyes +If Troy seemed falling, all thy soul keen-set +Praying that he might come no more!... And yet +It was so easy to be true. A king +Was thine, not feebler, not in anything +Below Aegisthus; one whom Hellas chose +For chief beyond all kings. Aye, and God knows, +How sweet a name in Greece, after the sin +Thy sister wrought, lay in thy ways to win. +Ill deeds make fair ones shine, and turn thereto +Men's eyes.--Enough: but say he wronged thee; slew +By craft thy child:--what wrong had I done, what +The babe Orestes? Why didst render not +Back unto us, the children of the dead, +Our father's portion? Must thou heap thy bed +With gold of murdered men, to buy to thee +Thy strange man's arms? Justice! Why is not he +Who cast Orestes out, cast out again? +Not slain for me whom doubly he hath slain, +In living death, more bitter than of old +My sister's? Nay, when all the tale is told +Of blood for blood, what murder shall we make, +I and Orestes, for our father's sake? + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + +Aye, child; I know thy heart, from long ago. +Thou hast alway loved him best. 'Tis oft-time so: +One is her father's daughter, and one hot +To bear her mother's part. I blame thee not.... +Yet think not I am happy, child; nor flown +With pride now, in the deeds my hand hath done.... + [_Seeing_ ELECTRA _unsympathetic, she checks herself_. + But thou art all untended, comfortless +Of body and wild of raiment; and thy stress +Of travail scarce yet ended!... Woe is me! +'Tis all as I have willed it. Bitterly +I wrought against him, to the last blind deep +Of bitterness.... Woe's me! + +ELECTRA. + + Fair days to weep, +When help is not! Or stay: though he lie cold +Long since, there lives another of thy fold +Far off; there might be pity for thy son? + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + +I dare not!... Yes, I fear him. 'Tis mine own +Life, and not his, comes first. And rumour saith +His heart yet burneth for his father's death. + +ELECTRA. + +Why dost thou keep thine husband ever hot +Against me? + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + + 'Tis his mood. And thou art not +So gentle, child! + +ELECTRA. + + My spirit is too sore! +Howbeit, from this day I will no more +Hate him. + +CLYTEMNESTRA (_with a flash of hope_). + + O daughter!--Then, indeed, shall he, +I promise, never more be harsh to thee! + +ELECTRA. + +He lieth in my house, as 'twere his own. +'Tis that hath made him proud. + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + + Nay, art thou flown +To strife again so quick, child? + +ELECTRA. + + Well; I say +No more; long have I feared him, and alway +Shall fear him, even as now! + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + + Nay, daughter, peace! +It bringeth little profit, speech like this... +Why didst thou call me hither? + +ELECTRA. + + It reached thee, +My word that a man-child is born to me? +Do thou make offering for me--for the rite +I know not--as is meet on the tenth night. +I cannot; I have borne no child till now. + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + +Who tended thee? 'Tis she should make the vow. + +ELECTRA. + +None tended me. Alone I bare my child. + +CLYTEMNESTRA + +What, is thy cot so friendless? And this wild +So far from aid? + +ELECTRA. + + Who seeks for friendship sake +A beggar's house? + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + + I will go in, and make +Due worship for thy child, the Peace-bringer. +To all thy need I would be minister. +Then to my lord, where by the meadow side +He prays the woodland nymphs. + Ye handmaids, guide +My chariot to the stall, and when ye guess +The rite draws near its end, in readiness +Be here again. Then to my lord!... I owe +My lord this gladness, too. + +[_The Attendants depart;_ CLYTEMNESTRA, _left alone, proceeds to enter the +house_. + +ELECTRA. + + Welcome below +My narrow roof! But have a care withal, +A grime of smoke lies deep upon the wall. +Soil not thy robe!... + Not far now shall it be, +The sacrifice God asks of me and thee. +The bread of Death is broken, and the knife +Lifted again that drank the Wild Bull's life: +And on his breast.... Ha, Mother, hast slept well +Aforetime? Thou shalt lie with him in Hell. +That grace I give to cheer thee on thy road; +Give thou to me--peace from my father's blood! + [_She follows her mother into the house_. + +CHORUS. + + Lo, the returns of wrong. + The wind as a changèd thing + Whispereth overhead + Of one that of old lay dead + In the water lapping long: + My King, O my King! + + A cry in the rafters then + Rang, and the marble dome: + "Mercy of God, not thou, + "Woman! To slay me now, + "After the harvests ten + "Now, at the last, come home!" + + O Fate shall turn as the tide, + Turn, with a doom of tears + For the flying heart too fond; + A doom for the broken bond. + She hailed him there in his pride, + Home from the perilous years, + + In the heart of his wallèd lands, + In the Giants' cloud-capt ring; + Herself, none other, laid + The hone to the axe's blade; + She lifted it in her hands, + The woman, and slew her king. + + Woe upon spouse and spouse, + Whatso of evil sway + Held her in that distress! + Even as a lioness + Breaketh the woodland boughs + Starving, she wrought her way. + +VOICE OF CLYTEMNESTRA. + +O Children, Children; in the name of God, +Slay not your mother! + +A WOMAN. + + Did ye hear a cry +Under the rafters? + +ANOTHER. + + I weep too, yea, I; +Down on the mother's heart the child hath trod! + [_A death-cry from within_. + +ANOTHER. + +God bringeth Justice in his own slow tide. + Aye, cruel is thy doom; but thy deeds done + Evil, thou piteous woman, and on one + Whose sleep was by thy side! + +[_The door bursts open, and_ ORESTES _and_ ELECTRA _come forth in +disorder. Attendants bring out the bodies of_ CLYTEMNESTRA _and_ +AEGISTHUS. + +LEADER. + +Lo, yonder, in their mother's new-spilt gore +Red-garmented and ghastly, from the door +They reel.... O horrible! Was it agony +Like this, she boded in her last wild cry? +There lives no seed of man calamitous, +Nor hath lived, like this seed of Tantalus. + +ORESTES. + +O Dark of the Earth, O God, + Thou to whom all is plain; +Look on my sin, my blood, + This horror of dead things twain; +Gathered as one they lie +Slain; and the slayer was I, + I, to pay for my pain! + +ELECTRA. + +Let tear rain upon tear, + Brother: but mine is the blame. +A fire stood over her, + And out of the fire I came, +I, in my misery.... +And I was the child at her knee. + 'Mother' I named her name. + +CHORUS. + +Alas for Fate, for the Fate of thee, +O Mother, Mother of Misery: +And Misery, lo, hath turned again, +To slay thee, Misery and more, +Even in the fruit thy body bore. +Yet hast thou Justice, Justice plain, + For a sire's blood spilt of yore! + +ORESTES. + +Apollo, alas for the hymn + Thou sangest, as hope in mine ear! +The Song was of Justice dim, + But the Deed is anguish clear; +And the Gift, long nights of fear, + Of blood and of wandering, + Where cometh no Greek thing, +Nor sight, nor sound on the air. +Yea, and beyond, beyond, + Roaming--what rest is there? +Who shall break bread with me? +Who, that is clean, shall see +And hate not the blood-red hand, + His mother's murderer? + +ELECTRA. + +And I? What clime shall hold + My evil, or roof it above? +I cried for dancing of old, + I cried in my heart for love: +What dancing waiteth me now? +What love that shall kiss my brow + Nor blench at the brand thereof? + +CHORUS. + +Back, back, in the wind and rain +Thy driven spirit wheeleth again. +Now is thine heart made clean within +That was dark of old and murder-fraught. +But, lo, thy brother; what hast thou wrought.... +Yea, though I love thee.... what woe, what sin, + On him, who willed it not! + + +ORESTES. + +Saw'st thou her raiment there, + Sister, there in the blood? + She drew it back as she stood, +She opened her bosom bare, + She bent her knees to the earth, + The knees that bent in my birth.... +And I ... Oh, her hair, her hair.... + [_He breaks into inarticulate weeping_ + +CHORUS. + +Oh, thou didst walk in agony, +Hearing thy mother's cry, the cry +Of wordless wailing, well know I. + +ELECTRA. + +She stretched her hand to my cheek, + And there brake from her lips a moan; + 'Mercy, my child, my own!' +Her hand clung to my cheek; +Clung, and my arm was weak; + And the sword fell and was gone. + +CHORUS. + +Unhappy woman, could thine eye +Look on the blood, and see her lie, +Thy mother, where she turned to die? + +ORESTES. + +I lifted over mine eyes + My mantle: blinded I smote, +As one smiteth a sacrifice; + And the sword found her throat. + +ELECTRA. + +I gave thee the sign and the word; +I touched with mine hand thy sword. + +LEADER. + +Dire is the grief ye have wrought. + +ORESTES. + +Sister, touch her again: + Oh, veil the body of her; + Shed on her raiment fair, +And close that death-red stain. + --Mother! And didst thou bear, +Bear in thy bitter pain, + To life, thy murderer? + +[_The two kneel over the body of_ CLYTEMNESTRA, _and cover her with +raiment_. + +ELECTRA. + +On her that I loved of yore, + Robe upon robe I cast: +On her that I hated sore. + +CHORUS. + +O House that hath hated sore, + Behold thy peace at the last! + + * * * * * + +LEADER. + +Ha, see: above the roof-tree high + There shineth ... Is some spirit there + Of earth or heaven? That thin air +Was never trod by things that die! + What bodes it now that forth they fare, +To men revealèd visibly? + +[_There appears in the air a vision of_ CASTOR _and_ POLYDEUCES. _The +mortals kneel or veil their faces._ + +CASTOR. + +Thou Agamemnon's Son, give ear! 'Tis we. +Castor and Polydeuces, call to thee, +God's Horsemen and thy mother's brethren twain. +An Argive ship, spent with the toiling main, +We bore but now to peace, and, here withal +Being come, have seen thy mother's bloody fall, +Our sister's. Righteous is her doom this day, +But not thy deed. And Phoebus, Phoebus ... Nay; +He is my lord; therefore I hold my peace. +Yet though in light he dwell, no light was this +He showed to thee, but darkness! Which do thou +Endure, as man must, chafing not. And now +Fare forth where Zeus and Fate have laid thy life. + The maid Electra thou shalt give for wife +To Pylades; then turn thy head and flee +From Argos' land. 'Tis never more for thee +To tread this earth where thy dead mother lies. +And, lo, in the air her Spirits, bloodhound eyes, +Most horrible yet Godlike, hard at heel +Following shall scourge thee as a burning wheel, +Speed-maddened. Seek thou straight Athena's land, +And round her awful image clasp thine hand, +Praying: and she will fence them back, though hot +With flickering serpents, that they touch thee not, +Holding above thy brow her gorgon shield. + There is a hill in Athens, Ares' field, +Where first for that first death by Ares done +On Halirrhothius, Poseidon's son, +Who wronged his daughter, the great Gods of yore +Held judgment: and true judgments evermore +Flow from that Hill, trusted of man and God. +There shalt thou stand arraignèd of this blood; +And of those judges half shall lay on thee +Death, and half pardon; so shalt thou go free. +For Phoebus in that hour, who bade thee shed +Thy mother's blood, shall take on his own head +The stain thereof. And ever from that strife +The law shall hold, that when, for death or life +Of one pursued, men's voices equal stand, +Then Mercy conquereth.--But for thee, the band +Of Spirits dread, down, down, in very wrath, +Shall sink beside that Hill, making their path +Through a dim chasm, the which shall aye be trod +By reverent feet, where men may speak with God. +But thou forgotten and far off shalt dwell, +By great Alpheüs' waters, in a dell +Of Arcady, where that gray Wolf-God's wall +Stands holy. And thy dwelling men shall call +Orestes Town. So much to thee be spoke. +But this dead man, Aegisthus, all the folk +Shall bear to burial in a high green grave +Of Argos. For thy mother, she shall have +Her tomb from Menelaus, who hath come +This day, at last, to Argos, bearing home +Helen. From Egypt comes she, and the hall +Of Proteus, and in Troy hath ne'er at all +Set foot. 'Twas but a wraith of Helen, sent +By Zeus, to make much wrath and ravishment. + So forth for home, bearing the virgin bride, +Let Pylades make speed, and lead beside +Thy once-named brother, and with golden store +Stablish his house far off on Phocis' shore. + Up, gird thee now to the steep Isthmian way, +Seeking Athena's blessèd rock; one day, +Thy doom of blood fulfilled and this long stress +Of penance past, thou shalt have happiness. + + + LEADER (_looking up_). + + Is it for us, O Seed of Zeus, + To speak and hear your words again! +CASTOR. Speak: of this blood ye bear no stain. +ELECTRA. I also, sons of Tyndareus, + + My kinsmen; may my word be said? +CASTOR. Speak: on Apollo's head we lay + The bloody doings of this day. +LEADER. Ye Gods, ye brethren of the dead, + + Why held ye not the deathly herd + Of Kêres back from off this home? +CASTOR. There came but that which needs must come + By ancient Fate and that dark word + + That rang from Phoebus in his mood. +ELECTRA. And what should Phoebus seek with me, + Or all God's oracles that be, + That I must bear my mother's blood? + +CASTOR. Thy hand was as thy brother's hand, + Thy doom shall be as his. One stain, + From dim forefathers on the twain + Lighting, hath sapped your hearts as sand. + +ORESTES (_who has never raised his head, nor spoken to the Gods_). + + After so long, sister, to see + And hold thee, and then part, then part, + By all that chained thee to my heart + Forsaken, and forsaking thee! + +CASTOR. Husband and house are hers. She bears + No bitter judgment, save to go + Exiled from Argos. +ELECTRA. And what woe, + What tears are like an exile's tears? + +ORESTES. Exiled and more am I; impure, + A murderer in a stranger's hand: +CASTOR. Fear not. There dwells in Pallas' land + All holiness. Till then endure! + [ORESTES _and_ ELECTRA _embrace_ + +ORESTES. Aye, closer; clasp my body well, + And let thy sorrow loose, and shed, + As o'er the grave of one new dead, + Dead evermore, thy last farewell! [_A sound of weeping_. + +CASTOR. Alas, what would ye? For that cry + Ourselves and all the sons of heaven + Have pity. Yea, our peace is riven + By the strange pain of these that die. + +ORESTES. No more to see thee! ELECTRA. Nor thy breath + Be near my face! ORESTES. Ah, so it ends. +ELECTRA. Farewell, dear Argos. All ye friends, + Farewell! ORESTES. O faithful unto death, + + Thou goest? ELECTRA. Aye, I pass from you, + Soft-eyed at last. ORESTES. Go, Pylades, + And God go with you! Wed in peace + My tall Electra, and be true. + [ELECTRA _and_ PYLADES _depart to the left._ + +CASTOR. + + Their troth shall fill their hearts.--But on: + Dread feet are near thee, hounds of prey, + Snake-handed, midnight-visaged, yea, + And bitter pains their fruit! Begone! + [ORESTES _departs to the right_. + + But hark, the far Sicilian sea + Calls, and a noise of men and ships + That labour sunken to the lips + In bitter billows; forth go we, + + Through the long leagues of fiery blue, + With saving; not to souls unshriven; + But whoso in his life hath striven + To love things holy and be true, + + Through toil and storm we guard him; we + Save, and he shall not die!--Therefore, + O praise the lying man no more, + Nor with oath-breakers sail the sea: + Farewell, ye walkers on the shore + Of death! A God hath counselled ye. + [CASTOR _and_ POLYDEUCES _disappear_. + + CHORUS. + + Farewell, farewell!--But he who can so fare, + And stumbleth not on mischief anywhere, + Blessed on earth is he! + + + + +NOTES TO THE ELECTRA + + +The chief characters in the play belong to one family, as is shown by the +two genealogies:-- + + +I. + + TANTALUS + | + Pelops + __________|__________________ + | | + Atreus Thyestes + _________|__________ | + | | | + Agamemnon Menelaus Aegisthus + (=Clytemnestra) (=Helen) (=Clytemnestra) + _____|________________________ + | | | +Iphigenia Electra Orestes + +(Also, a sister of Agamemnon, name variously given, married Strophios, and +was the mother of Pylades.) + + +II. + + Tyndareus = Leda = Zeus + ____________________| ____|_________________________ + | | | | +Clytemnestra Castor Polydeuces Helen + + +P. 1, l. 10, Son of his father's foe.]--Both foe and brother. Atreus and +Thyestes became enemies after the theft of the Golden Lamb. See pp. 47 ff. + +P. 2, l. 34, Must wed with me.]--In Aeschylus and Sophocles Electra is +unmarried. This story of her peasant husband is found only in Euripides, +but is not likely to have been wantonly invented by him. It was no doubt +an existing legend--an [Greek: ôn logos], to use the phrase attributed to +Euripides in the _Frogs_ (l. 1052). He may have chosen to adopt it for +several reasons. First, to marry Electra to a peasant was a likely step +for Aegisthus to take, since any child born to her afterwards would bear a +stigma, calculated to damage him fatally as a pretender to the throne. +Again, it seemed to explain the name "A-lektra" (as if from [Greek: +lektron] "bed;" cf. Schol. _Orestes_, 71, Soph. _El_. 962, _Ant_. 917) +more pointedly than the commoner version. And it helps in the working out +of Electra's character (cf. pp. 17, 22, &c.). Also it gives an opportunity +of introducing the fine character of the peasant. He is an [Greek: +Autourgos] literally "self-worker," a man who works his own land, far from +the city, neither a slave nor a slave-master; "the men," as Euripides says +in the _Orestes_ (920), "who alone save a nation." (Cf, _Bac_., p. 115 +foot, and below, p. 26, ll. 367-390.) As Euripides became more and more +alienated from the town democracy he tended, like Tolstoy and others, to +idealise the workers of the soil. + +P. 6, l. 62, Children to our enemy.]--Cf. 626. Soph. _El_. 589. They do +not seem to be in existence at the time of the play. + +Pp. 5-6.]--Electra's first two speeches are admirable as expositions of +her character--the morbid nursing of hatred as a duty, the deliberate +posing, the impulsiveness, the quick response to kindness. + +P. 7, l. 82, Pylades.]--Pylades is a _persona muta_ both here and in +Sophocles' _Electra_, a fixed traditional figure, possessing no quality +but devotion to Orestes. In Aeschylus' _Libation-Bearers_ he speaks only +once, with tremendous effect, at the crisis of the play, to rebuke Orestes +when his heart fails him. In the _Iphigenia in Tauris_, however, and still +more in the _Orestes_, he is a fully studied character. + +P. 10, l. 151, A swan crying alone.]--Cf. _Bacchae_, p. 152, "As yearns +the milk-white swan when old swans die." + +P. 11, ll. 169 ff., The Watcher hath cried this day.]--Hera was an old +Pelasgian goddess, whose worship was kept in part a mystery from the +invading Achaeans or Dorians. There seems to have been a priest born "of +the ancient folk," _i.e._, a Pelasgian or aboriginal Mycenaean, who, by +some secret lore--probably some ancient and superseded method of +calculating the year--knew when Hera's festival was due, and walked round +the country three days beforehand to announce it. He drank "the milk of +the flock" and avoided wine, either from some religious taboo, or because +he represented the religion of the milk-drinking mountain shepherds. + +P. 13, ll. 220 ff.]--Observe Electra's cowardice when surprised; contrast +her courage, p. 47, when sending Orestes off, and again her quick drop to +despair when the news does not come soon enough. + +P. 16, ll. 247 ff., I am a wife.... O better dead!]--Rather ungenerous, +when compared with her words on p. 6. (Cf. also her words on pp. 24 and +26.) But she feels this herself, almost immediately. Orestes naturally +takes her to mean that her husband is one of Aegisthus' friends. This +would have ruined his plot. (Cf. above, p. 8, l. 98.) + +P. 22, l. 312, Castor.]--I know no other mention of Electra's betrothal to +Castor. He was her kinsman: see below on l. 990. + +Pp. 22-23, ll. 300-337.]--In this wonderful outbreak, observe the mixture +of all sorts of personal resentments and jealousies with the devotion of +the lonely woman to her father and her brother. "So men say," is an +interesting touch; perhaps conscience tells her midway that she does not +quite believe what she is saying. So is the self-conscious recognition of +her "bitter burning brain" that interprets all things in a sort of +distortion.--Observe, too, how instinctively she turns to the peasant for +sympathy in the strain of her emotion. It is his entrance, perhaps, which +prevents Orestes from being swept away and revealing himself. The +peasant's courage towards two armed men is striking, as well as his +courtesy and his sanity. He is the one character in the play not somehow +tainted with blood-madness. + +P. 27, ll. 403, 409.]--Why does Electra send her husband to the Old Man? +Not, I think, really for want of the food. It would have been easier to +borrow (p. 12, l. 191) from the Chorus; and, besides, what the peasant +says is no doubt true, that, if she liked, she could find "many a pleasant +thing" in the house. I think she sends for the Old Man because he is the +only person who would know Orestes (p. 21, l. 285). She is already, like +the Leader (p. 26, l. 401), excited by hopes which she will not confess. +This reading makes the next scene clearer also. + +Pp. 28-30, ll. 432-487, O for the Ships of Troy.]--The two main Choric +songs of this play are markedly what Aristotle calls [Greek: embolima] +"things thrown in." They have no effect upon the action, and form little +more than musical "relief." Not that they are positively irrelevant. +Agamemnon is in our minds all through the play, and Agamemnon's glory is +of course enhanced by the mention of Troy and the praises of his +subordinate king, Achilles. + +Thetis, the Nereid, or sea-maiden, was won to wife by Peleus. (He wrestled +with her on the seashore, and never loosed hold, though she turned into +divers strange beings--a lion, and fire, and water, and sea-beasts.) She +bore him Achilles, and then, unable permanently to live with a mortal, +went back beneath the sea. When Achilles was about to sail to Troy, she +and her sister Nereids brought him divine armour, and guided his ships +across the Aegean. The designs on Achilles' armour, as on Heracles' +shield, form a fairly common topic of poetry. + +The descriptions of the designs are mostly clear. Perseus with the +Gorgon's head, guided by Hermês; the Sun on a winged chariot, and stars +about him; two Sphinxes, holding as victims the men who had failed to +answer the riddles which they sang; and, on the breastplate, the Chimaera +attacking Bellerophon's winged horse, Pêgasus. The name Pêgasus suggested +to a Greek [Greek: pegê], "fountain;" and the great spring of Pirênê, near +Corinth, was made by Pêgasus stamping on the rock. + +Pp. 30-47.]--The Old Man, like other old family servants in Euripides--the +extreme case is in the _Ion_--is absolutely and even morbidly devoted to +his masters. Delightful in this first scene, he becomes a little horrible +in the next, where they plot the murders; not only ferocious himself, but, +what seems worse, inclined to pet and enjoy the bloodthirstiness of his +"little mistress." + +Pp. 30-33, ll. 510-545.]--The Signs of Orestes. This scene, I think, has +been greatly misunderstood by critics. In Aeschylus' _Libation-Bearers_, +which deals with the same subject as the _Electra_, the scene is at +Agamemnon's tomb. Orestes lays his tress there in the prologue. Electra +comes bringing libations, sees the hair, compares it with her own, finds +that it is similar "wing for wing" ([Greek: homopteros]--the same word as +here), and guesses that it belongs to Orestes. She then measures the +footprints, and finds one that is like her own, one not; evidently Orestes +and a fellow-traveller! Orestes enters and announces himself; she refuses +to believe, until he shows her a "woven thing," perhaps the robe which he +is wearing, which she recognises as the work of her own hand. + +The same signs, described in one case by the same peculiar word, occur +here. The Old Man mentions one after the other, and Electra refutes or +rejects them. It has been thought therefore that this scene was meant as +an attack--a very weak and undignified attack--on Euripides' great master. +No parallel for such an artistically ruinous proceeding is quoted from any +Greek tragedy. And, apart from the improbability _a priori_, I do not +think it even possible to read the scene in this sense. To my mind, +Electra here rejects the signs not from reason, but from a sort of nervous +terror. She dares not believe that Orestes has come; because, if it prove +otherwise, the disappointment will be so terrible. As to both signs, the +lock of hair and the footprints, her arguments may be good; but observe +that she is afraid to make the comparison at all. And as to the footprint, +she says there cannot be one, when the Old Man has just seen it! And, +anyhow, she will not go to see it! Similarly as to the robe, she does her +best to deny that she ever wove it, though she and the Old Man both +remember it perfectly. She is fighting tremulously, with all her flagging +strength, against the thing she longs for. The whole point of the scene +requires that one ray of hope after another should be shown to Electra, +and that she should passionately, blindly, reject them all. That is what +Euripides wanted the signs for. + +But why, it may be asked, did he adopt Aeschylus' signs, and even his +peculiar word? Because, whether invented by Aeschylus or not, these signs +were a canonical part of the story by the time Euripides wrote. Every one +who knew the story of Orestes' return at all, knew of the hair and the +footprint. Aristophanes in the _Clouds_ (534 ff.) uses them proverbially, +when he speaks of his comedy "recognising its brother's tress." It would +have been frivolous to invent new ones. As a matter of fact, it seems +probable that the signs are older than Aeschylus; neither they nor the +word [Greek: homopteros] particularly suit Aeschylus' purpose. (Cf. Dr. +Verrall's introduction to the _Libation-Bearers_.) They probably come from +the old lyric poet, Stesichorus. + +P. 43, l. 652, New-mothered of a Man-Child.]--Her true Man-Child, the +Avenger whom they had sought to rob her of! This pitiless plan was +suggested apparently by the sacrifice to the Nymphs (p. 40). "Weep my +babe's low station" is of course ironical. The babe would set a seal on +Electra's degradation to the peasant class, and so end the blood-feud, as +far as she was concerned. Clytemnestra, longing for peace, must rejoice in +Electra's degradation. Yet she has motherly feelings too, and in fact +hardly knows what to think or do till she can consult Aegisthus (p. 71). +Electra, it would seem, actually calculates upon these feelings, while +despising them. + +P. 45, l. 669, If but some man will guide me.]--A suggestion of the +irresolution or melancholia that beset Orestes afterwards, alternating +with furious action. (Cf. Aeschylus' _Libation-Bearers_, Euripides' +_Andromache_ and _Orestes_.) + +P. 45, l. 671, Zeus of my sires, &c]--In this invocation, short and +comparatively unmoving, one can see perhaps an effect of Aeschylus' play. +In the _Libation-Bearers_ the invocation of Agamemnon comprises 200 lines +of extraordinarily eloquent poetry. + +P. 47 ff., ll. 699 ff.]--The Golden Lamb. The theft of the Golden Lamb is +treated as a story of the First Sin, after which all the world was changed +and became the poor place that it now is. It was at least the First Sin in +the blood-feud of this drama. + +The story is not explicitly told. Apparently the magic lamb was brought by +Pan from the gods, and given to Atreus as a special grace and a sign that +he was the true king. His younger brother, Thyestes, helped by Atreus' +wife, stole it and claimed to be king himself. So good was turned into +evil, and love into hatred, and the stars shaken in their courses. + +[It is rather curious that the Lamb should have such a special effect upon +the heavens and the weather. It is the same in Plato (_Polit._ 268 ff.), +and more definitely so in the treatise _De Astrologia,_ attributed to +Lucian, which says that the Golden Lamb is the constellation Aries, "The +Ram." Hugo Winckler (_Weltanschauung des alten Orients_, pp. 30, 31) +suggests that the story is a piece of Babylonian astronomy misunderstood. +It seems that the vernal equinox, which is now moving from the Ram into +the Fish, was in the ninth and eighth centuries B.C. moving from the Bull +into the Ram. Now the Bull, Marduk, was the special god of Babylon, and +the time when he yielded his place to the Ram was also, as a matter of +fact, the time of the decline of Babylon. The gradual advance of the Ram +not only upset the calendar, and made all the seasons wrong; but seemed, +since it coincided with the fall of the Great City, to upset the world in +general! Of course Euripides would know nothing of this. He was apparently +attracted to the Golden Lamb merely by the quaint beauty of the story.] + +P. 50, l. 746, Thy brethren even now.]--Castor and Polydeuces, who were +received into the stars after their death. See below, on l. 990. + +P. 51, l. 757, That answer bids me die.]--Why? Because Orestes, if he won +at all, would win by a surprise attack, and would send news instantly. A +prolonged conflict, without a message, would mean that Orestes and Pylades +were being overpowered. Of course she is wildly impatient. + +P. 51, l. 765, Who an thou? I mistrust thee.]--Just as she mistrusted the +Old Man's signs. See above, p. 89. + +P. 52 ff., ll. 774 ff.]--Messenger's Speech. This speech, though swift +and vivid, is less moving and also less sympathetic than most of the +Messengers' Speeches. Less moving, because the slaying of Aegisthus has +little moral interest; it is merely a daring and dangerous exploit. Less +sympathetic, because even here, in the first and comparatively blameless +step of the blood-vengeance, Euripides makes us feel the treacherous side +of it. A [Greek: dolophonia], a "slaying by guile," even at its best, +remains rather an ugly thing. + +P. 53, l. 793, Then quickly spake Orestes.]--If Orestes had washed with +Aegisthus, he would have become his _xenos_, or guest, as much as if he +had eaten his bread and salt. In that case the slaying would have been +definitely a crime, a dishonourable act. Also, Aegisthus would have had +the right to ask his name.--The unsuspiciousness of Aegisthus is partly +natural; it was not thus, alone and unarmed, that he expected Orestes to +stand before him. Partly it seems like a heaven-sent blindness. Even the +omens do not warn him, though no doubt in a moment more they would have +done so. + +P. 56, l. 878, With guile he hath slain.]--So the MSS. The Chorus have +already a faint feeling, quickly suppressed, that there may be another +side to Orestes' action. Most editors alter the text to mean "He hath +slain these guileful ones." + +P. 58, l. 900, It shames me, yet God knows I hunger sore.]--To treat the +dead with respect was one of the special marks of a Greek as opposed to a +barbarian. It is possible that the body of Aegisthus might legitimately +have been refused burial, or even nailed on a cross as Orestes in a moment +of excitement suggests. But to insult him lying dead would be a shock to +all Greek feeling. ("Unholy is the voice of loud thanksgiving over +slaughtered men," _Odyssey_ xxii. 412.) Any excess of this kind, any +violence towards the helpless, was apt to rouse "The sleeping wrath of the +world." There was a Greek proverb, "Even an injured dog has his Erinys"-- +_i.e._, his unseen guardian or avenger. It is interesting, though not +surprising, to hear that men had little love for Electra. The wonderful +speech that follows, though to a conventional Greek perhaps the most +outrageous thing of which she is guilty, shows best the inherent nobility +of her character before years of misery had "killed her soul within." + +P. 59, ll. 928 f., Being in falseness one, &c]--The Greek here is very +obscure and almost certainly corrupt. + +P. 61, l. 964, 'Tis my mother comes.]--The reaction has already begun in +Orestes. In the excitement and danger of killing his enemy he has shown +coolness and courage, but now a work lies before him vastly more horrible, +a little more treacherous, and with no element of daring to redeem it. +Electra, on the other hand, has done nothing yet; she has merely tried, +not very successfully, to revile the dead body, and her hate is +unsatisfied. Besides, one sees all through the play that Aegisthus was a +kind of odious stranger to her; it was the woman, her mother, who came +close to her and whom she really hated. + +P. 63, l. 979, Was it some fiend of Hell?]--The likeness to _Hamlet_ is +obvious. ("The spirit that I have seen May be the Devil." End of Act II.) + +P. 63, l. 983, How shall it be then, the same stealthy blow?...]--He +means, I think, "the same as that with which I have already murdered an +unsuspecting man to-day," but Electra for her own purposes misinterprets +him. + +P. 64, l. 990, God's horsemen, stars without a stain.]--Cf. above, ll. +312, 746. Castor and Polydeuces were sons of Zeus and Leda, brothers of +Helen, and half-brothers of Clytemnestra, whose father was the mortal +Tyndareus. They lived as knights without reproach, and afterwards became +stars and demigods. The story is told that originally Castor was mortal +and Polydeuces immortal; but when Castor was fatally wounded Polydeuces +prayed that he might be allowed to give him half his immortality. The +prayer was granted; and the two live as immortals, yet, in some mysterious +way, knowing the taste of death. Unlike the common sinners and punishers +of the rest of the play, these Heroes find their "glory" in saving men +from peril and suffering, especially at sea, where they appear as the +globes of light, called St. Elmo's fire, upon masts and yards. + +Pp. 64-71, ll. 998 ff.]--Clytemnestra. "And what sort of woman is this +doomed and 'evil' Queen? We know the majestic murderess of Aeschylus, so +strong as to be actually beautiful, so fearless and unrepentant that one +almost feels her to be right. One can imagine also another figure that +would be theatrically effective--a 'sympathetic' sinner, beautiful and +penitent, eager to redeem her sin by self-sacrifice. But Euripides gives +us neither. Perhaps he believed in neither. It is a piteous and most real +character that we have here, in this sad middle-aged woman, whose first +words are an apology; controlling quickly her old fires, anxious to be as +little hated as possible. She would even atone, one feels, if there were +any safe way of atonement; but the consequences of her old actions are +holding her, and she is bound to persist.... In her long speech it is +scarcely to Electra that she is chiefly speaking; it is to the Chorus, +perhaps to her own bondmaids; to any or all of the people whose shrinking +so frets her." (_Independent Review, l.c._) + +P. 65, l. 1011, Cast his child away.]--The Greek fleet assembled for Troy +was held by contrary winds at Aulis, in the Straits of Euboea, and the +whole expedition was in danger of breaking up. The prophets demanded a +human sacrifice, and Agamemnon gave his own daughter, Iphigenîa. He +induced Clytemnestra to send her to him, by the pretext that Achilles had +asked for her in marriage. + +P. 66, l. 1046, Which led me to the men he hated.]--It made Clytemnestra's +crime worse, that her accomplice was the blood-foe. + +Pp. 65-68. As elsewhere in Euripides, these two speeches leave the matter +undecided. He does not attempt to argue the case out. He gives us a flash +of light, as it were, upon Clytemnestra's mind and then upon Electra's. +Each believes what she is saying, and neither understands the whole truth. +It is clear that Clytemnestra, being left for ten years utterly alone, and +having perhaps something of Helen's temperament about her, naturally fell +in love with the Lord of a neighbouring castle; and having once committed +herself, had no way of saving her life except by killing her husband, and +afterwards either killing or keeping strict watch upon Orestes and +Electra. Aegisthus, of course, was deliberately plotting to carry out his +blood-feud and to win a great kingdom. + +P. 72, l. 1156, For the flying heart too fond.]--The text is doubtful, but +this seems to be the literal translation, and the reference to +Clytemnestra is intelligible enough. + +P. 73, l. 1157, The giants' cloud-capped ring.]--The great walls of +Mycenae, built by the Cyclôpes; cf. _Trojan Women_, p. 64, "Where the +towers of the giants shine O'er Argos cloudily." + +P. 75, l. 1201, Back, back in the wind and rain.]--The only explicit moral +judgment of the Chorus; cf. note on l. 878. + +P. 77, l. 1225, I touched with my hand thy sword.]--_i.e._, Electra +dropped her own sword in horror, then in a revulsion of feeling laid her +hand upon Orestes' sword--out of generosity, that he might not bear his +guilt alone. + +P. 78, l. 1241, An Argive ship.]--This may have been the ship of Menelaus, +which was brought to Argos by Castor and Polydeuces, see l. 1278. _Helena_ +1663. The ships labouring in the "Sicilian sea" (p. 82, l. 1347) must have +suggested to the audience the ships of the great expedition against +Sicily, then drawing near to its destruction. The Athenian fleet was +destroyed early in September 413 B.C.: this play was probably produced in +the spring of the same year, at which time the last reinforcements were +being sent out. + +P. 78, l. 1249.]--Marriage of Pylades and Electra. A good example of the +essentially historic nature of Greek tragedy. No one would have invented a +marriage between Electra and Pylades for the purposes of this play. It is +even a little disturbing. But it is here, because it was a fixed fact in +the tradition (cf. _Iphigenia in Tauris_, l. 915 ff.), and could not be +ignored. Doubtless these were people living who claimed descent from +Pylades and Electra. + +P. 79, l. 1253, Scourge thee as a burning wheel.]--At certain feasts a big +wheel soaked in some inflammable resin or tar was set fire to and rolled +down a mountain. + +P. 79, l. 1258, There is a hill in Athens.]--The great fame of the +Areopagus as a tribunal for man-slaying (see Aeschylus' _Eumenides_) +cannot have been due merely to its incorruptibility. Hardly any Athenian +tribunal was corruptible. But the Areopagus in very ancient times seems to +have superseded the early systems of "blood-feud" or "blood-debt" by a +humane and rational system of law, taking account of intention, +provocation, and the varying degrees of guilt. The Erinyes, being the old +Pelasgian avengers of blood, now superseded, have their dwelling in a +cavern underneath the Areopagus. + +P. 80, ll. 1276 ff.]--The graves of Aegisthus and Clytemnestra actually +existed in Argos (Paus. ii. 16, 7). They form, so to speak, the concrete +material fact round which the legend of this play circles (cf. Ridgeway in +_Hellenic Journal_, xxiv. p. xxxix.). + +P. 80, l. 1280.]--Helen. The story here adumbrated is taken from +Stesichorus, and forms the plot of Euripides' play _Helena_ (cf. +Herodotus, ii. 113 ff.). + +P. 80, l, 1295, I also, sons of Tyndareus.]--Observe that Electra claims +the gods as cousins (cf. p. 22, l. 313), addressing them by the name of +their mortal father. The Chorus has called them "sons of Zeus." In the +same spirit she faces the gods, complains, and even argues, while Orestes +never raises his eyes to them. + +P. 80, l. 1300.]--Kêres. The death-spirits that flutter over our heads, as +Homer says, "innumerable, whom no man can fly nor hide from." + +P. 82, l. 1329, Yea, our peace is riven by the strange pain of these that +die.]--Cf. the attitude of Artemis at the end of the _Hippolytus_. +Sometimes Euripides introduces gods whose peace is not riven, but then +they are always hateful. (Cf. Aphrodite in the _Hippolytus_, Dionysus in +the _Bacchae_, Athena in the _Trojan Women_.) + +P. 82, l. 1336, O faithful unto death.]--This is the last word we hear of +Electra, and it is interesting. With all her unlovely qualities it remains +true that she was faithful--faithful to the dead and the absent, and to +what she looked upon as a fearful duty. + + * * * * * + +Additional Note on the presence of the Argive women during the plot +against the King and Queen. (Cf. especially p. 19, l. 272, These women +hear us.)--It would seem to us almost mad to speak so freely before the +women. But one must observe: 1. Stasis, or civil enmity, ran very high in +Greece, and these women were of the party that hated Aegisthus. 2. There +runs all through Euripides a very strong conception of the cohesiveness of +women, their secretiveness, and their faithfulness to one another. Medea, +Iphigenia, and Creusa, for instance, trust their women friends with +secrets involving life and death, and the secrets are kept. On the other +hand, when a man--Xuthus in the _Ion_--tells the Chorus women a secret, +they promptly and with great courage betray him. Aristophanes leaves the +same impression; and so do many incidents in Greek history. Cf. the +murders plotted by the Athenian women (Hdt. v. 87), and both by and +against the Lemnian women (Hdt. vi. 138). The subject is a large one, but +I would observe: 1. Athenian women were kept as a rule very much together, +and apart from men. 2. At the time of the great invasions the women of a +community must often have been of different race from the men; and this +may have started a tradition of behaviour. 3. Members of a subject (or +disaffected) nation have generally this cohesiveness: in Ireland, Poland, +and parts of Turkey the details of a political crime will, it is said, be +known to a whole country side, but not a whisper come to the authorities. + +Of course the mere mechanical fact that the Chorus had to be present on +the stage counts for something. It saved the dramatist trouble to make his +heroine confide in the Chorus. But I do not think Euripides would have +used this situation so often unless it had seemed to him both true to life +and dramatically interesting. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Electra of Euripides, by Euripides + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14322 *** diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Electra of Euripides + +Author: Euripides + +Release Date: December 10, 2004 [EBook #14322] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ELECTRA OF EURIPIDES *** + + + + +Produced by Paul Murray, Charles Bidwell and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + + + + + +THE + +ELECTRA + +OF + +EURIPIDES + + +TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH RHYMING VERSE +WITH EXPLANATORY NOTES BY + +GILBERT MURRAY, LL.D., D.LITT. + +REGIUS PROFESSOR OF GREEK IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD + + +FORTY-SECOND THOUSAND + + +LONDON: GEORGE ALLEN & UNWIN LTD +RUSKIN HOUSE, 40 MUSEUM STREET, W.C.1 + + +_First Edition, November_ 1905 +_Reprinted, November_ 1906 + " _February_ 1908 + " _March_ 1910 + " _December_ 1910 + " _February_ 1913 + " _April_ 1914 + " _June_ 1916 + " _November_ 1919 + " _April_ 1921 + " _January_ 1923 + " _May_ 1925 + " _August_ 1927 + " _January_ 1929 + +_(All rights reserved)_ + + +PERFORMED AT +THE COURT THEATRE, LONDON +IN 1907 + +_Printed in Great Britain by +Unwin Brothers Ltd., Woking_ + + + + +Introduction[1] + + +The _Electra_ of Euripides has the distinction of being, perhaps, the best +abused, and, one might add, not the best understood, of ancient tragedies. +"A singular monument of poetical, or rather unpoetical perversity;" "the +very worst of all his pieces;" are, for instance, the phrases applied to +it by Schlegel. Considering that he judged it by the standards of +conventional classicism, he could scarcely have arrived at any different +conclusion. For it is essentially, and perhaps consciously, a protest +against those standards. So, indeed, is the tragedy of _The Trojan Women_; +but on very different lines. The _Electra_ has none of the imaginative +splendour, the vastness, the intense poetry, of that wonderful work. It is +a close-knit, powerful, well-constructed play, as realistic as the tragic +conventions will allow, intellectual and rebellious. Its _psychology_ +reminds one of Browning, or even of Ibsen. + +To a fifth-century Greek all history came in the form of legend; and no +less than three extant tragedies, Aeschylus' _Libation-Bearers_ (456 +B.C.), Euripides' _Electra_ (413 B.C.), and Sophocles' _Electra_ (date +unknown: but perhaps the latest of the three) are based on the particular +piece of legend or history now before us. It narrates how the son and +daughter of the murdered king, Agamemnon, slew, in due course of revenge, +and by Apollo's express command, their guilty mother and her paramour. + +Homer had long since told the story, as he tells so many, simply and +grandly, without moral questioning and without intensity. The atmosphere +is heroic. It is all a blood-feud between chieftains, in which Orestes, +after seven years, succeeds in slaying his foe Aegisthus, who had killed +his father. He probably killed his mother also; but we are not directly +told so. His sister may have helped him, and he may possibly have gone mad +afterwards; but these painful issues are kept determinedly in the shade. + +Somewhat surprisingly, Sophocles, although by his time Electra and +Clytemnestra had become leading figures in the story and the mother-murder +its essential climax, preserves a very similar atmosphere. His tragedy is +enthusiastically praised by Schlegel for "the celestial purity, the fresh +breath of life and youth, that is diffused over so dreadful a subject." +"Everything dark and ominous is avoided. Orestes enjoys the fulness of +health and strength. He is beset neither with doubts nor stings of +conscience." Especially laudable is the "austerity" with which Aegisthus +is driven into the house to receive, according to Schlegel, a specially +ignominious death! + +This combination of matricide and good spirits, however satisfactory to +the determined classicist, will probably strike most intelligent readers +as a little curious, and even, if one may use the word at all in +connection with so powerful a play, undramatic. It becomes intelligible as +soon as we observe that Sophocles was deliberately seeking what he +regarded as an archaic or "Homeric" style (cf. Jebb, Introd. p. xli.); and +this archaism, in its turn, seems to me best explained as a conscious +reaction against Euripides' searching and unconventional treatment of the +same subject (cf. Wilamowitz in _Hermes_, xviii. pp. 214 ff.). In the +result Sophocles is not only more "classical" than Euripides; he is more +primitive by far than Aeschylus. + +For Aeschylus, though steeped in the glory of the world of legend, would +not lightly accept its judgment upon religious and moral questions, and +above all would not, in that region, play at make-believe. He would not +elude the horror of this story by simply not mentioning it, like Homer, or +by pretending that an evil act was a good one, like Sophocles. He faces +the horror; realises it; and tries to surmount it on the sweep of a great +wave of religious emotion. The mother-murder, even if done by a god's +command, is a sin; a sin to be expiated by unfathomable suffering. Yet, +since the god cannot have commanded evil, it is a duty also. It is a sin +that _must_ be committed. + +Euripides, here as often, represents intellectually the thought of +Aeschylus carried a step further. He faced the problem just as Aeschylus +did, and as Sophocles did not. But the solution offered by Aeschylus did +not satisfy him. It cannot, in its actual details, satisfy any one. To him +the mother-murder--like most acts of revenge, but more than most--was a +sin and a horror. Therefore it should not have been committed; and the god +who enjoined it _did_ command evil, as he had done in a hundred other +cases! He is no god of light; he is only a demon of old superstition, +acting, among other influences, upon a sore-beset man, and driving him +towards a miscalled duty, the horror of which, when done, will unseat his +reason. + +But another problem interests Euripides even more than this. What kind of +man was it--above all, what kind of woman can it have been, who would do +this deed of mother-murder, not in sudden fury but deliberately, as an act +of "justice," after many years? A "sympathetic" hero and heroine are out +of the question; and Euripides does not deal in stage villains. He seeks +real people. And few attentive readers of this play can doubt that he has +found them. + +The son is an exile, bred in the desperate hopes and wild schemes of +exile; he is a prince without a kingdom, always dreaming of his wrongs and +his restoration; and driven by the old savage doctrine, which an oracle +has confirmed, of the duty and manliness of revenge. He is, as was shown +by his later history, a man subject to overpowering impulses and to fits +of will-less brooding. Lastly, he is very young, and is swept away by his +sister's intenser nature. + +That sister is the central figure of the tragedy. A woman shattered in +childhood by the shock of an experience too terrible for a girl to bear; a +poisoned and a haunted woman, eating her heart in ceaseless broodings of +hate and love, alike unsatisfied--hate against her mother and stepfather, +love for her dead father and her brother in exile; a woman who has known +luxury and state, and cares much for them; who is intolerant of poverty, +and who feels her youth passing away. And meantime there is her name, on +which all legend, if I am not mistaken, insists; she is _A-lektra_, "the +Unmated." + +There is, perhaps, no woman's character in the range of Greek tragedy so +profoundly studied. Not Aeschylus' Clytemnestra, not Phaedra nor Medea. +One's thoughts can only wander towards two great heroines of "lost" plays, +Althaea in the _Meleager_, and Stheneboea in the _Bellerophon_. + +G.M. + +[Footnote 1: Most of this introduction is reprinted, by the kind +permission of the Editors, from an article in the _Independent Review_ +vol. i. No. 4.] + + + + +ELECTRA + + + + + CHARACTERS IN THE PLAY + + +CLYTEMNESTRA, _Queen of Argos and Mycenae; widow of Agamemnon_. + +ELECTRA, _daughter of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra_. + +ORESTES, _son of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra, now in banishment_. + +A PEASANT, _husband of Electra_. + +AN OLD MAN, _formerly servant to Agamemnon_. + +PYLADES, _son of Strophios, King of Phocis; friend to Orestes_. + +AEGISTHUS, _usurping King of Argos and Mycenae, now husband of +Clytemnestra_. + +The Heroes CASTOR and POLYDEUCES. + +CHORUS of Argive Women, with their LEADER. + +FOLLOWERS of ORESTES; HANDMAIDS of CLYTEMNESTRA. + +_The Scene is laid in the mountains of Argos. The play was first produced +between the years_ 414 _and_ 412 B.C. + + + + + ELECTRA + + +_The scene represents a hut on a desolate mountain side; the river Inachus +is visible in the distance. The time is the dusk of early dawn, before +sunrise. The_ PEASANT _is discovered in front of the hut_. + +PEASANT. + +Old gleam on the face of the world, I give thee hail, +River of Argos land, where sail on sail +The long ships met, a thousand, near and far, +When Agamemnon walked the seas in war; +Who smote King Priam in the dust, and burned +The storied streets of Ilion, and returned +Above all conquerors, heaping tower and fane +Of Argos high with spoils of Eastern slain. + +So in far lands he prospered; and at home +His own wife trapped and slew him. 'Twas the doom +Aegisthus wrought, son of his father's foe. + +Gone is that King, and the old spear laid low +That Tantalus wielded when the world was young. +Aegisthus hath his queen, and reigns among +His people. And the children here alone, +Orestes and Electra, buds unblown +Of man and womanhood, when forth to Troy +He shook his sail and left them--lo, the boy +Orestes, ere Aegisthus' hand could fall, +Was stolen from Argos--borne by one old thrall, +Who served his father's boyhood, over seas +Far off, and laid upon King Strophios' knees +In Phocis, for the old king's sake. But here +The maid Electra waited, year by year, +Alone, till the warm days of womanhood +Drew nigh and suitors came of gentle blood +In Hellas. Then Aegisthus was in fear +Lest she be wed in some great house, and bear +A son to avenge her father. Close he wrought +Her prison in his house, and gave her not +To any wooer. Then, since even this +Was full of peril, and the secret kiss +Of some bold prince might find her yet, and rend +Her prison walls, Aegisthus at the end +Would slay her. Then her mother, she so wild +Aforetime, pled with him and saved her child. +Her heart had still an answer for her lord +Murdered, but if the child's blood spoke, what word +Could meet the hate thereof? After that day +Aegisthus thus decreed: whoso should slay +The old king's wandering son, should win rich meed +Of gold; and for Electra, she must wed +With me, not base of blood--in that I stand +True Mycenaean--but in gold and land +Most poor, which maketh highest birth as naught. +So from a powerless husband shall be wrought +A powerless peril. Had some man of might +Possessed her, he had called perchance to light +Her father's blood, and unknown vengeances +Risen on Aegisthus yet. + Aye, mine she is: +But never yet these arms--the Cyprian knows +My truth!--have clasped her body, and she goes +A virgin still. Myself would hold it shame +To abase this daughter of a royal name. +I am too lowly to love violence. Yea, +Orestes too doth move me, far away, +Mine unknown brother! Will he ever now +Come back and see his sister bowed so low? + +Doth any deem me fool, to hold a fair +Maid in my room and seek no joy, but spare +Her maidenhood? If any such there be, +Let him but look within. The fool is he +In gentle things, weighing the more and less +Of love by his own heart's untenderness. + +[_As he ceases_ ELECTRA _comes out of the hut. She is in mourning garb, +and carries a large pitcher on her head. She speaks without observing the_ +PEASANT'S _presence_. + +ELECTRA. + +Dark shepherdess of many a golden star, +Dost see me, Mother Night? And how this jar +Hath worn my earth-bowed head, as forth and fro +For water to the hillward springs I go? +Not for mere stress of need, but purpose set, +That never day nor night God may forget +Aegisthus' sin: aye, and perchance a cry +Cast forth to the waste shining of the sky +May find my father's ear.... The woman bred +Of Tyndareus, my mother--on her head +Be curses!--from my house hath outcast me; +She hath borne children to our enemy; +She hath made me naught, she hath made Orestes naught.... + +[_As the bitterness of her tone increases, the_ PEASANT _comes forward._ + +PEASANT. + +What wouldst thou now, my sad one, ever fraught +With toil to lighten my toil? And so soft +Thy nurture was! Have I not chid thee oft, +And thou wilt cease not, serving without end? + +ELECTRA (_turning to him with impulsive affection_). + +O friend, my friend, as God might be my friend, +Thou only hast not trampled on my tears. +Life scarce can be so hard, 'mid many fears +And many shames, when mortal heart can find +Somewhere one healing touch, as my sick mind +Finds thee.... And should I wait thy word, to endure +A little for thine easing, yea, or pour +My strength out in thy toiling fellowship? +Thou hast enough with fields and kine to keep; +'Tis mine to make all bright within the door. +'Tis joy to him that toils, when toil is o'er, +To find home waiting, full of happy things. + +PEASANT. + +If so it please thee, go thy way. The springs +Are not far off. And I before the morn +Must drive my team afield, and sow the corn +In the hollows.--Not a thousand prayers can gain +A man's bare bread, save an he work amain. + +[ELECTRA _and the_ PEASANT _depart on their several ways. After a few +moments there enter stealthily two armed men,_ ORESTES _and_ PYLADES. + +ORESTES. + +Thou art the first that I have known in deed +True and my friend, and shelterer of my need. +Thou only, Pylades, of all that knew, +Hast held Orestes of some worth, all through +These years of helplessness, wherein I lie +Downtrodden by the murderer--yea, and by +The murderess, my mother!... I am come, +Fresh from the cleansing of Apollo, home +To Argos--and my coming no man yet +Knoweth--to pay the bloody twain their debt +Of blood. This very night I crept alone +To my dead father's grave, and poured thereon +My heart's first tears and tresses of my head +New-shorn, and o'er the barrow of the dead +Slew a black lamb, unknown of them that reign +In this unhappy land.... I am not fain +To pass the city gates, but hold me here +Hard on the borders. So my road is clear +To fly if men look close and watch my way; +If not, to seek my sister. For men say +She dwelleth in these hills, no more a maid +But wedded. I must find her house, for aid +To guide our work, and learn what hath betid +Of late in Argos.--Ha, the radiant lid +Of Dawn's eye lifteth! Come, friend; leave we now +This trodden path. Some worker of the plough, +Or serving damsel at her early task +Will presently come by, whom we may ask +If here my sister dwells. But soft! Even now +I see some bondmaid there, her death-shorn brow +Bending beneath its freight of well-water. +Lie close until she pass; then question her. +A slave might help us well, or speak some sign +Of import to this work of mine and thine. + +[_The two men retire into ambush._ ELECTRA _enters, returning from the +well._ + +ELECTRA. + + Onward, O labouring tread, + As on move the years; + Onward amid thy tears, + O happier dead! + +Let me remember. I am she, [_Strophe_ 1. +Agamemnon's child, and the mother of me +Clytemnestra, the evil Queen, +Helen's sister. And folk, I ween, +That pass in the streets call yet my name +Electra.... God protect my shame! + For toil, toil is a weary thing, + And life is heavy about my head; + And thou far off, O Father and King, + In the lost lands of the dead. +A bloody twain made these things be; +One was thy bitterest enemy, +And one the wife that lay by thee. + +Brother, brother, on some far shore [_Antistrophe_ 1. +Hast thou a city, is there a door +That knows thy footfall, Wandering One? +Who left me, left me, when all our pain +Was bitter about us, a father slain, +And a girl that wept in her room alone. + Thou couldst break me this bondage sore, + Only thou, who art far away, + Loose our father, and wake once more.... + Zeus, Zeus, dost hear me pray?... +The sleeping blood and the shame and the doom! +O feet that rest not, over the foam +Of distant seas, come home, come home! + +What boots this cruse that I carry? [_Strophe_ 2. + O, set free my brow! +For the gathered tears that tarry + Through the day and the dark till now, +Now in the dawn are free, + Father, and flow beneath +The floor of the world, to be + As a song in she house of Death: +From the rising up of the day +They guide my heart alway, +The silent tears unshed, +And my body mourns for the dead; +My cheeks bleed silently, + And these bruised temples keep +Their pain, remembering thee + And thy bloody sleep. + +Be rent, O hair of mine head! + +As a swan crying alone + Where the river windeth cold, +For a loved, for a silent one, + Whom the toils of the fowler hold, +I cry, Father, to thee, +O slain in misery! + +The water, the wan water, [_Antistrophe_ 2. + Lapped him, and his head +Drooped in the bed of slaughter + Low, as one wearièd; +Woe for the edgèd axe, + And woe for the heart of hate, +Houndlike about thy tracks, + O conqueror desolate, +From Troy over land and sea, +Till a wife stood waiting thee; +Not with crowns did she stand, +Nor flowers of peace in her hand; +With Aegisthus' dagger drawn + For her hire she strove, +Through shame and through blood alone; + And won her a traitor's love. + +[_As she ceases there enter from right and left the_ CHORUS, _consisting +of women of Argos, young and old, in festal dress_. + + + CHORUS. + + _Some Women._ + +Child of the mighty dead, [_Strophe_. + Electra, lo, my way +To thee in the dawn hath sped, + And the cot on the mountain grey, + For the Watcher hath cried this day: +He of the ancient folk, + The walker of waste and hill, +Who drinketh the milk of the flock; + And he told of Hera's will; +For the morrow's morrow now + They cry her festival, +And before her throne shall bow + Our damsels all. + +ELECTRA. + +Not unto joy, nor sweet + Music, nor shining of gold, +The wings of my spirit beat. + Let the brides of Argos hold + Their dance in the night, as of old; +I lead no dance; I mark + No beat as the dancers sway; +With tears I dwell in the dark, + And my thought is of tears alway, + To the going down of the day. +Look on my wasted hair +And raiment.... This that I bear, +Is it meet for the King my sire, + And her whom the King begot? +For Troy, that was burned with fire + And forgetteth not? + + + CHORUS. + + _Other Women._ + +Hera is great!--Ah, come, [_Antistrophe_. + Be kind; and my hand shall bring +Fair raiment, work of the loom, + And many a golden thing, + For joyous robe-wearing. +Deemest thou this thy woe + Shall rise unto God as prayer, +Or bend thine haters low? + Doth God for thy pain have care? +Not tears for the dead nor sighs, + But worship and joy divine +Shall win thee peace in thy skies, + O daughter mine! + +ELECTRA. + +No care cometh to God + For the voice of the helpless; none +For the crying of ancient blood. + Alas for him that is gone, + And for thee, O wandering one: +That now, methinks, in a land + Of the stranger must toil for hire, +And stand where the poor men stand, + A-cold by another's fire, + O son of the mighty sire: +While I in a beggar's cot +On the wrecked hills, changing not, +Starve in my soul for food; + But our mother lieth wed +In another's arms, and blood + Is about her bed. + +LEADER. + +On all of Greece she wrought great jeopardy, +Thy mother's sister, Helen,--and on thee. + +[ORESTES _and_ PYLADES _move out from their concealment_; ORESTES _comes +forward_: PYLADES _beckons to two_ ARMED SERVANTS _and stays with them in +the background_. + +ELECTRA. + +Woe's me! No more of wailing! Women, flee! +Strange armèd men beside the dwelling there +Lie ambushed! They are rising from their lair. +Back by the road, all you. I will essay +The house; and may our good feet save us! + +ORESTES (_between_ ELECTRA _and the hut_). + + Stay, +Unhappy woman! Never fear my steel. + +ELECTRA (_in utter panic_). + +O bright Apollo! Mercy! See, I kneel; +Slay me not. + +ORESTES. + + Others I have yet to slay +Less dear than thou. + +ELECTRA. + + Go from me! Wouldst thou lay +Hand on a body that is not for thee? + +ORESTES. + +None is there I would touch more righteously. + +ELECTRA. + +Why lurk'st thou by my house? And why a sword? + +ORESTES. + +Stay. Listen! Thou wilt not gainsay my word. + +ELECTRA. + +There--I am still. Do what thou wilt with me. +Thou art too strong. + +ORESTES. + + A word I bear to thee... +Word of thy brother. + +ELECTRA. + + Oh, friend! More than friend! +Living or dead? + +ORESTES. + + He lives; so let me send +My comfort foremost, ere the rest be heard. + +ELECTRA. + +God love thee for the sweetness of thy word! + +ORESTES. + +God love the twain of us, both thee and me. + +ELECTRA. + +He lives! Poor brother! In what land weareth he +His exile? + +ORESTES. + + Not one region nor one lot +His wasted life hath trod. + +ELECTRA. + + He lacketh not +For bread? + +ORESTES. + + Bread hath he; but a man is weak +In exile. + +ELECTRA. + +What charge laid he on thee? Speak. + +ORESTES. + +To learn if thou still live, and how the storm, +Living, hath struck thee. + +ELECTRA. + + That thou seest; this form +Wasted... + +ORESTES. + + Yea, riven with the fire of woe. +I sigh to look on thee. + +ELECTRA. + + My face; and, lo, +My temples of their ancient glory shorn. + +ORESTES. + +Methinks thy brother haunts thee, being forlorn; +Aye, and perchance thy father, whom they slew... + +ELECTRA. + +What should be nearer to me than those two? + +ORESTES. + +And what to him, thy brother, half so dear +As thou? + +ELECTRA. + His is a distant love, not near +At need. + +ORESTES. + + But why this dwelling place, this life +Of loneliness? + +ELECTRA (_with sudden bitterness_). + + Stranger, I am a wife.... +O better dead! + +ORESTES. + + That seals thy brother's doom! +What Prince of Argos...? + +ELECTRA. + + Not the man to whom +My father thought to give me. + +ORESTES. + + Speak; that I +May tell thy brother all. + +ELECTRA. + + 'Tis there, hard by, +His dwelling, where I live, far from men's eyes. + +ORESTES. + +Some ditcher's cot, or cowherd's, by its guise! + +ELECTRA (_struck with shame for her ingratitude_). + +A poor man; but true-hearted, and to me +God-fearing. + +ORESTES. + + How? What fear of God hath he? + +ELECTRA. + +He hath never held my body to his own. + +ORESTES. + +Hath he some vow to keep? Or is it done +To scorn thee? + +ELECTRA. + + Nay; he only scorns to sin +Against my father's greatness. + +ORESTES. + + But to win +A princess! Doth his heart not leap for pride? + +ELECTRA. + +He honoureth not the hand that gave the bride. + +ORESTES. + +I see. He trembles for Orestes' wrath? + +ELECTRA. + +Aye, that would move him. But beside, he hath +A gentle heart. + +ORESTES. + + Strange! A good man.... I swear +He well shall be requited. + +ELECTRA. + + Whensoe'er +Our wanderer comes again! + +ORESTES. + + Thy mother stays +Unmoved 'mid all thy wrong? + +ELECTRA. + + A lover weighs +More than a child in any woman's heart. + +ORESTES. + +But what end seeks Aegisthus, by such art +Of shame? + +ELECTRA. + + To make mine unborn children low +And weak, even as my husband. + +ORESTES. + + Lest there grow +From thee the avenger? + +ELECTRA. + + Such his purpose is: +For which may I requite him! + +ORESTES. + + And of this +Thy virgin life--Aegisthus knows it? + +ELECTRA. + + Nay, +We speak it not. It cometh not his way. + +ORESTES. + +These women hear us. Are they friends to thee? + +ELECTRA. + +Aye, friends and true. They will keep faithfully +All words of mine and thine. + +ORESTES (_trying her_). + + Thou art well stayed +With friends. And could Orestes give thee aid +In aught, if e'er... + +ELECTRA. + + Shame on thee! Seest thou not? +Is it not time? + +ORESTES (_catching her excitement_). + + How time? And if he sought +To slay, how should he come at his desire? + +ELECTRA. + +By daring, as they dared who slew his sire! + +ORESTES. + +Wouldst thou dare with him, if he came, thou too, +To slay her? + +ELECTRA. + + Yes; with the same axe that slew +My father! + +ORESTES. + + 'Tis thy message? And thy mood +Unchanging? + +ELECTRA. + + Let me shed my mother's blood, +And I die happy. + +ORESTES. + + God!... I would that now +Orestes heard thee here. + +ELECTRA. + + Yet, wottest thou, +Though here I saw him, I should know him not. + +ORESTES. + +Surely. Ye both were children, when they wrought +Your parting. + +ELECTRA. + + One alone in all this land +Would know his face. + +ORESTES. + + The thrall, methinks, whose hand +Stole him from death--or so the story ran? + +ELECTRA. + +He taught my father, too, an old old man +Of other days than these. + +ORESTES. + + Thy father's grave... +He had due rites and tendance? + +ELECTRA. + + What chance gave, +My father had, cast out to rot in the sun. + +ORESTES. + +God, 'tis too much!... To hear of such things done +Even to a stranger, stings a man.... But speak, +Tell of thy life, that I may know, and seek +Thy brother with a tale that must be heard +Howe'er it sicken. If mine eyes be blurred, +Remember, 'tis the fool that feels not. Aye, +Wisdom is full of pity; and thereby +Men pay for too much wisdom with much pain. + +LEADER. + +My heart is moved as this man's. I would fain +Learn all thy tale. Here dwelling on the hills +Little I know of Argos and its ills. + +ELECTRA. + +If I must speak--and at love's call, God knows, +I fear not--I will tell thee all; my woes, +My father's woes, and--O, since thou hast stirred +This storm of speech, thou bear him this my word-- +His woes and shame! Tell of this narrow cloak +In the wind; this grime and reek of toil, that choke +My breathing; this low roof that bows my head +After a king's. This raiment ... thread by thread, +'Tis I must weave it, or go bare--must bring, +Myself, each jar of water from the spring. +No holy day for me, no festival, +No dance upon the green! From all, from all +I am cut off. No portion hath my life +'Mid wives of Argos, being no true wife. +No portion where the maidens throng to praise +Castor--my Castor, whom in ancient days, +Ere he passed from us and men worshipped him, +They named my bridegroom!-- + And she, she!... The grim +Troy spoils gleam round her throne, and by each hand +Queens of the East, my father's prisoners, stand, +A cloud of Orient webs and tangling gold. +And there upon the floor, the blood, the old +Black blood, yet crawls and cankers, like a rot +In the stone! And on our father's chariot +The murderer's foot stands glorying, and the red +False hand uplifts that ancient staff, that led +The armies of the world!... Aye, tell him how +The grave of Agamemnon, even now, +Lacketh the common honour of the dead; +A desert barrow, where no tears are shed, +No tresses hung, no gift, no myrtle spray. +And when the wine is in him, so men say, +Our mother's mighty master leaps thereon, +Spurning the slab, or pelteth stone on stone, +Flouting the lone dead and the twain that live: +"Where is thy son Orestes? Doth he give +Thy tomb good tendance? Or is all forgot?" +So is he scorned because he cometh not.... + +O Stranger, on my knees, I charge thee, tell +This tale, not mine, but of dumb wrongs that swell +Crowding--and I the trumpet of their pain, +This tongue, these arms, this bitter burning brain; +These dead shorn locks, and he for whom they died! +His father slew Troy's thousands in their pride; +He hath but one to kill.... O God, but one! +Is he a man, and Agamemnon's son? + +LEADER. + +But hold: is this thy husband from the plain, +His labour ended, hasting home again? + +_Enter the_ PEASANT. + +PEASANT. + +Ha, who be these? Strange men in arms before +My house! What would they at this lonely door? +Seek they for me?--Strange gallants should not stay +A woman's goings. + +ELECTRA. + + Friend and helper!--Nay, +Think not of any evil. These men be +Friends of Orestes, charged with words for me!... +Strangers, forgive his speech. + +PEASANT. + + What word have they +Of him? At least he lives and sees the day! + +ELECTRA. + +So fares their tale--and sure I doubt it not! + +PEASANT. + +And ye two still are living in his thought, +Thou and his father? + +ELECTRA. + + In his dreams we live. +An exile hath small power. + +PEASANT. + + And did he give +Some privy message? + +ELECTRA. + + None: they come as spies +For news of me. + +PEASANT. + + Thine outward news their eyes +Can see; the rest, methinks, thyself will tell. + +ELECTRA. + +They have seen all, heard all. I trust them well. + +PEASANT. + +Why were our doors not open long ago?-- +Be welcome, strangers both, and pass below +My lintel. In return for your glad words +Be sure all greeting that mine house affords +Is yours.--Ye followers, bear in their gear!-- +Gainsay me not; for his sake are ye dear +That sent you to our house; and though my part +In life be low, I am no churl at heart. + +[_The_ PEASANT _goes to the_ ARMED SERVANTS _at the back, to help them +with the baggage._ + +ORESTES (_aside to_ ELECTRA). + +Is this the man that shields thy maidenhood +Unknown, and will not wrong thy father's blood? + +ELECTRA. + +He is called my husband. 'Tis for him I toil. + +ORESTES. + +How dark lies honour hid! And what turmoil +In all things human: sons of mighty men +Fallen to naught, and from ill seed again +Good fruit: yea, famine in the rich man's scroll +Writ deep, and in poor flesh a lordly soul. +As, lo, this man, not great in Argos, not +With pride of house uplifted, in a lot +Of unmarked life hath shown a prince's grace. + [_To the_ PEASANT, _who has returned._ +All that is here of Agamemnon's race, +And all that lacketh yet, for whom we come, +Do thank thee, and the welcome of thy home +Accept with gladness.--Ho, men; hasten ye +Within!--This open-hearted poverty +Is blither to my sense than feasts of gold. + +Lady, thine husband's welcome makes me bold; +Yet would thou hadst thy brother, before all +Confessed, to greet us in a prince's hall! +Which may be, even yet. Apollo spake +The word; and surely, though small store I make +Of man's divining, God will fail us not. + +[ORESTES _and_ PYLADES _go in, following the_ SERVANTS. + +LEADER. + +O never was the heart of hope so hot +Within me. How? So moveless in time past, +Hath Fortune girded up her loins at last? + +ELECTRA. + +Now know'st thou not thine own ill furniture, +To bid these strangers in, to whom for sure +Our best were hardship, men of gentle breed? + +PEASANT. + +Nay, if the men be gentle, as indeed +I deem them, they will take good cheer or ill +With even kindness. + +ELECTRA. + + 'Twas ill done; but still-- +Go, since so poor thou art, to that old friend +Who reared my father. At the realm's last end +He dwells, where Tanaos river foams between +Argos and Sparta. Long time hath he been +An exile 'mid his flocks. Tell him what thing +Hath chanced on me, and bid him haste and bring +Meat for the strangers' tending.--Glad, I trow, +That old man's heart will be, and many a vow +Will lift to God, to learn the child he stole +From death, yet breathes.--I will not ask a dole +From home; how should my mother help me? Nay, +I pity him that seeks that door, to say +Orestes liveth! + +PEASANT. + + Wilt thou have it so? +I will take word to the old man. But go +Quickly within, and whatso there thou find +Set out for them. A woman, if her mind +So turn, can light on many a pleasant thing +To fill her board. And surely plenishing +We have for this one day.--'Tis in such shifts +As these, I care for riches, to make gifts +To friends, or lead a sick man back to health +With ease and plenty. Else small aid is wealth +For daily gladness; once a man be done +With hunger, rich and poor are all as one. + +[_The_ PEASANT _goes off to the left_; ELECTRA _goes into the house._ + + * * * * * + +CHORUS. + +O for the ships of Troy, the beat [_Strophe_ 1. + Of oars that shimmered +Innumerable, and dancing feet + Of Nereids glimmered; +And dolphins, drunken with the lyre, +Across the dark blue prows, like fire, + Did bound and quiver, +To cleave the way for Thetis' son, +Fleet-in-the-wind Achilles, on +To war, to war, till Troy be won + Beside the reedy river. + +Up from Euboea's caverns came [_Antistrophe_ 1. + The Nereids, bearing +Gold armour from the Lords of Flame, + Wrought for his wearing: +Long sought those daughters of the deep, +Up Pelion's glen, up Ossa's steep + Forest enchanted, +Where Peleus reared alone, afar, +His lost sea-maiden's child, the star +Of Hellas, and swift help of war + When weary armies panted. + +There came a man from Troy, and told [_Strophe_ 2. + Here in the haven, +How, orb on orb, to strike with cold +The Trojan, o'er that targe of gold, + Dread shapes were graven. +All round the level rim thereof +Perseus, on wingèd feet, above + The long seas hied him; +The Gorgon's wild and bleeding hair +He lifted; and a herald fair, +He of the wilds, whom Maia bare, + God's Hermes, flew beside him. + + [_Antistrophe_ 2. +But midmost, where the boss rose higher, + A sun stood blazing, +And wingèd steeds, and stars in choir, +Hyad and Pleiad, fire on fire, + For Hector's dazing: +Across the golden helm, each way, +Two taloned Sphinxes held their prey, + Song-drawn to slaughter: +And round the breastplate ramping came +A mingled breed of lion and flame, +Hot-eyed to tear that steed of fame + That found Pirênê's water. + +The red red sword with steeds four-yoked [_Epode_. + Black-maned, was graven, +That laboured, and the hot dust smoked + Cloudwise to heaven. +Thou Tyndarid woman! Fair and tall +Those warriors were, and o'er them all + One king great-hearted, +Whom thou and thy false love did slay: +Therefore the tribes of Heaven one day +For these thy dead shall send on thee +An iron death: yea, men shall see +The white throat drawn, and blood's red spray, + And lips in terror parted. + +[_As they cease, there enters from the left a very old man, bearing a +lamb, a wineskin, and a wallet_. + +OLD MAN. + +Where is my little Princess? Ah, not now; +But still my queen, who tended long ago +The lad that was her father.... How steep-set +These last steps to her porch! But faint not yet: +Onward, ye failing knees and back with pain +Bowed, till we look on that dear face again. + [_Enter_ ELECTRA. +Ah, daughter, is it thou?--Lo, here I am, +With gifts from all my store; this suckling lamb +Fresh from the ewe, green crowns for joyfulness, +And creamy things new-curdled from the press. +And this long-storèd juice of vintages +Forgotten, cased in fragrance: scant it is, +But passing sweet to mingle nectar-wise +With feebler wine.--Go, bear them in; mine eyes... +Where is my cloak?--They are all blurred with tears. + +ELECTRA. + +What ails thine eyes, old friend? After these years +Doth my low plight still stir thy memories? +Or think'st thou of Orestes, where he lies +In exile, and my father? Aye, long love +Thou gavest him, and seest the fruit thereof +Wasted, for thee and all who love thee! + +OLD MAN. + + All +Wasted! And yet 'tis that lost hope withal +I cannot brook. But now I turned aside +To see my master's grave. All, far and wide, +Was silence; so I bent these knees of mine +And wept and poured drink-offerings from the wine +I bear the strangers, and about the stone +Laid myrtle sprays. And, child, I saw thereon +Just at the censer slain, a fleeced ewe, +Deep black, in sacrifice: the blood was new +About it: and a tress of bright brown hair +Shorn as in mourning, close. Long stood I there +And wondered, of all men what man had gone +In mourning to that grave.--My child, 'tis none +In Argos. Did there come ... Nay, mark me now... +Thy brother in the dark, last night, to bow +His head before that unadorèd tomb? + O come, and mark the colour of it. Come +And lay thine own hair by that mourner's tress! +A hundred little things make likenesses +In brethren born, and show the father's blood. + +ELECTRA (_trying to mask her excitement and resist the contagion of his_). + +Old heart, old heart, is this a wise man's mood?... +O, not in darkness, not in fear of men, +Shall Argos find him, when he comes again, +Mine own undaunted ... Nay, and if it were, +What likeness could there be? My brother's hair +Is as a prince's and a rover's, strong +With sunlight and with strife: not like the long +Locks that a woman combs.... And many a head +Hath this same semblance, wing for wing, tho' bred +Of blood not ours.... 'Tis hopeless. Peace, old man. + +OLD MAN. + +The footprints! Set thy foot by his, and scan +The track of frame and muscles, how they fit! + +ELECTRA. + +That ground will take no footprint! All of it +Is bitter stone.... It hath?... And who hath said +There should be likeness in a brother's tread +And sister's? His is stronger every way. + +OLD MAN. + +But hast thou nothing...? If he came this day +And sought to show thee, is there no one sign +Whereby to know him?... Stay; the robe was thine, +Work of thy loom, wherein I wrapt him o'er +That night and stole him through the murderers' door. + +ELECTRA. + +Thou knowest, when Orestes was cast out +I was a child.... If I did weave some clout +Of raiment, would he keep the vesture now +He wore in childhood? Should my weaving grow +As his limbs grew?... 'Tis lost long since. No more! +O, either 'twas some stranger passed, and shore +His locks for very ruth before that tomb: +Or, if he found perchance, to seek his home, +Some spy... + +OLD MAN. + +The strangers! Where are they? I fain +Would see them, aye, and bid them answer plain... + +ELECTRA. + +Here at the door! How swift upon the thought! + +_Enter_ ORESTES _and_ PYLADES. + +OLD MAN. + +High-born: albeit for that I trust them not. +The highest oft are false.... Howe'er it be, + +[_Approaching them_. + +I bid the strangers hail! + +ORESTES. + + All hail to thee, +Greybeard!--Prithee, what man of all the King +Trusted of old, is now this broken thing? + +ELECTRA. + +'Tis he that trained my father's boyhood. + +ORESTES. + + How? +And stole from death thy brother? Sayest thou? + +ELECTRA. + +This man was his deliverer, if it be +Deliverance. + +ORESTES. + + How his old eye pierceth me, +As one that testeth silver and alloy! +Sees he some likeness here? + +ELECTRA. + + Perchance 'tis joy, +To see Orestes' comrade, that he feels. + +ORESTES. + +None dearer.--But what ails the man? He reels +Dizzily back. + +ELECTRA. + + I marvel. I can say +No more. + +OLD MAN (_in a broken voice_). + + Electra, mistress, daughter, pray! +Pray unto God! + +ELECTRA. + + Of all the things I crave, +The thousand things, or all that others have, +What should I pray for? + +OLD MAN. + + Pray thine arms may hold +At last this treasure-dream of more than gold +God shows us! + +ELECTRA. + + God, I pray thee!... Wouldst thou more? + +OLD MAN. + +Gaze now upon this man, and bow before +Thy dearest upon earth! + +ELECTRA. + + I gaze on thee! +O, hath time made thee mad? + +OLD MAN. + + Mad, that I see +Thy brother? + +ELECTRA. + + My ... I know not what thou say'st: +I looked not for it... + +OLD MAN. + + I tell thee, here confessed +Standeth Orestes, Agamemnon's son! + +ELECTRA. + +A sign before I trust thee! O, but one! +How dost thou know...? + +OLD MAN. + + There, by his brow, I see +The scar he made, that day he ran with thee +Chasing thy fawn, and fell. + +ELECTRA (_in a dull voice_). + + A scar? 'Tis so. +I see a scar. + +OLD MAN. + + And fearest still to throw +Thine arms round him thou lovest? + +ELECTRA. + + O, no more! +Thy sign hath conquered me.... (_throwing herself into_ ORESTES' _arms_). +At last, at last! +Thy face like light! And do I hold thee fast, +Unhoped for? + +ORESTES. + + Yea, at last! And I hold thee. + +ELECTRA. + +I never knew... + +ORESTES. + + I dreamed not. + +ELECTRA. + + Is it he, +Orestes? + +ORESTES. + + Thy defender, yea, alone +To fight the world! Lo, this day have I thrown +A net, which once unbroken from the sea +Drawn home, shall ... O, and it must surely be! +Else men shall know there is no God, no light +In Heaven, if wrong to the end shall conquer right. + +CHORUS. + + Comest thou, comest thou now, + Chained by the years and slow, + O Day long sought? + A light on the mountains cold + Is lit, yea, a fire burneth, + 'Tis the light of one that turneth + From roamings manifold, + Back out of exile old + To the house that knew him not. + + Some spirit hath turned our way, + Victory visible, + Walking at thy right hand, + Belovèd; O lift this day + Thine arms, thy voice, as a spell; + And pray for thy brother, pray, + Threading the perilous land, + That all be well! + +ORESTES. + +Enough; this dear delight is mine at last +Of thine embracing; and the hour comes fast +When we shall stand again as now we stand, +And stint not.--Stay, Old Man: thou, being at hand +At the edge of time, advise me, by what way +Best to requite my father's murderers. Say, +Have I in Argos any still to trust; +Or is the love, once borne me, trod in dust, +Even as my fortunes are? Whom shall I seek? +By day or night? And whither turn, to wreak +My will on them that hate us? Say. + +OLD MAN. + + My son, +In thine adversity, there is not one +Will call thee friend. Nay, that were treasure-trove, +A friend to share, not faltering from love, +Fair days and foul the same. Thy name is gone +Forth to all Argos, as a thing o'erthrown +And dead. Thou hast not left one spark to glow +With hope in one friend's heart! Hear all, and know: +Thou hast God's fortune and thine own right hand, +Naught else, to conquer back thy fatherland. + +ORESTES. + +The deed, the deed! What must we do? + +OLD MAN. + + Strike down +Aegisthus ... and thy mother. + +ORESTES. + + 'Tis the crown +My race is run for. But how find him? + +OLD MAN. + + Not +Within the city walls, however hot +Thy spirit. + +ORESTES. + + Ha! With watchers doth he go +Begirt, and mailèd pikemen? + +OLD MAN. + + Even so: +He lives in fear of thee, and night nor day +Hath slumber. + +ORESTES. + + That way blocked!--'Tis thine to say +What next remains. + +OLD MAN. + + I will; and thou give ear. +A thought has found me! + +ORESTES. + + All good thoughts be near, +For thee to speak and me to understand! + +OLD MAN. + +But now I saw Aegisthus, close at hand +As here I journeyed. + +ORESTES. + + That good word shall trace +My path for me! Thou saw'st him? In what place? + +OLD MAN. + +Out on the pastures where his horses stray. + +ORESTES. + +What did he there so far?--A gleam of day +Crosseth our darkness. + +OLD MAN. + + 'Twas a feast, methought, +Of worship to the wild-wood nymphs he wrought. + +ORESTES. + +The watchers of men's birth? Is there a son +New born to him, or doth he pray for one +That cometh? [_Movement of_ ELECTRA. + +OLD MAN. + + More I know not; he had there +A wreathed ox, as for some weighty prayer. + +ORESTES. + +What force was with him? Not his serfs alone? + +OLD MAN. + +No Argive lord was there; none but his own +Household. + +ORESTES. + + Not any that aught know my face, +Or guess? + +OLD MAN. + + Thralls, thralls; who ne'er have seen thy face. + +ORESTES. + +Once I prevail, the thralls will welcome me! + +OLD MAN. + +The slaves' way, that; and no ill thing for thee! + +ORESTES. + +How can I once come near him? + +OLD MAN. + + Walk thy ways +Hard by, where he may see thee, ere he slays +His sacrifice. + +ORESTES. + + How? Is the road so nigh? + +OLD MAN. + +He cannot choose but see thee, passing by, +And bid thee stay to share the beast they kill. + +ORESTES. + +A bitter fellow-feaster, if God will! + +OLD MAN. + +And then ... then swift be heart and brain, to see +God's chances! + +ORESTES. + + Aye. Well hast thou counselled me. +But ... where is she? + +OLD MAN. + + In Argos now, I guess; +But goes to join her husband, ere the press +Of the feast. + +ORESTES. + + Why goeth not my mother straight +Forth at her husband's side? + +OLD MAN. + + She fain will wait +Until the gathered country-folk be gone. + +ORESTES. + +Enough! She knows what eyes are turned upon +Her passings in the land! + +OLD MAN. + + Aye, all men hate +The unholy woman. + +ORESTES. + + How then can I set +My snare for wife and husband in one breath? + +ELECTRA (_coming forward_). + +Hold! It is I must work our mother's death. + +ORESTES. + +If that be done, I think the other deed +Fortune will guide. + +ELECTRA. + + This man must help our need, +One friend alone for both. + +OLD MAN. + + He will, he will! +Speak on. What cunning hast thou found to fill +Thy purpose? + +ELECTRA. + + Get thee forth, Old Man, and quick +Tell Clytemnestra ... tell her I lie sick, +New-mothered of a man-child. + +OLD MAN. + + Thou hast borne +A son! But when? + +ELECTRA. + + Let this be the tenth morn. +Till then a mother stays in sanctity, +Unseen. + +OLD MAN. + + And if I tell her, where shall be +The death in this? + +ELECTRA. + + That word let her but hear, +Straight she will seek me out! + +OLD MAN. + + The queen! What care +Hath she for thee, or pain of thine? + +ELECTRA. + + She will; +And weep my babe's low station! + +OLD MAN. + + Thou hast skill +To know her, child; say on. + +ELECTRA. + + But bring her here, +Here to my hand; the rest will come. + +OLD MAN. + + I swear, +Here at the gate she shall stand palpable! + +ELECTRA. + +The gate: the gate that leads to me and Hell. + +OLD MAN. + +Let me but see it, and I die content. + +ELECTRA. + +First, then, my brother: see his steps be bent... + +OLD MAN. + +Straight yonder, where Aegisthus makes his prayer! + +ELECTRA. + +Then seek my mother's presence, and declare +My news. + +OLD MAN. + + Thy very words, child, as tho' spoke +From thine own lips! + +ELECTRA. + + Brother, thine hour is struck. +Thou standest in the van of war this day. + +ORESTES (_rousing himself_). + +Aye, I am ready.... I will go my way, +If but some man will guide me. + +OLD MAN. + + Here am I, +To speed thee to the end, right thankfully. + +ORESTES (_turning as he goes and raising his hands to heaven_). + +Zeus of my sires, Zeus of the lost battle, + +ELECTRA. + +Have pity; have pity; we have earned it well! + +OLD MAN. + + Pity these twain, of thine own body sprung! + +ELECTRA. + +O Queen o'er Argive altars, Hera high, + +ORESTES. + +Grant us thy strength, if for the right we cry. + +OLD MAN. + + Strength to these twain, to right their father's wrong! + +ELECTRA. + +O Earth, deep Earth, to whom I yearn in vain, + +ORESTES. + +And deeper thou, O father darkly slain, + +OLD MAN. + + Thy children call, who love thee: hearken thou! + +ORESTES. + +Girt with thine own dead armies, wake, O wake! + +ELECTRA. + +With all that died at Ilion for thy sake ... + +OLD MAN. + + And hate earth's dark defilers; help us now! + +ELECTRA. + +Dost hear us yet, O thou in deadly wrong, +Wronged by my mother? + +OLD MAN. + + Child, we stay too long. +He hears; be sure he hears! + +ELECTRA. + + And while he hears, +I speak this word for omen in his ears: +"Aegisthus dies, Aegisthus dies."... Ah me, +My brother, should it strike not him, but thee, +This wrestling with dark death, behold, I too +Am dead that hour. Think of me as one true, +Not one that lives. I have a sword made keen +For this, and shall strike deep. + I will go in +And make all ready. If there come from thee +Good tidings, all my house for ecstasy +Shall cry; and if we hear that thou art dead, +Then comes the other end!--Lo, I have said. + +ORESTES. + +I know all, all. + +ELECTRA. + + Then be a man to-day! + + [ORESTES _and the_ OLD MAN _depart_. + +O Women, let your voices from this fray +Flash me a fiery signal, where I sit, +The sword across my knees, expecting it. +For never, though they kill me, shall they touch +My living limbs!--I know my way thus much. + + [_She goes into the house_. + + * * * * * + +CHORUS. + + When white-haired folk are met [_Strophe_. + In Argos about the fold, + A story lingereth yet, + A voice of the mountains old, + That tells of the Lamb of Gold: + A lamb from a mother mild, + But the gold of it curled and beat; + And Pan, who holdeth the keys of the wild, + Bore it to Atreus' feet: + His wild reed pipes he blew, + And the reeds were filled with peace, + And a joy of singing before him flew, + Over the fiery fleece: + And up on the basèd rock, + As a herald cries, cried he: + "Gather ye, gather, O Argive folk, + The King's Sign to see, + The sign of the blest of God, + For he that hath this, hath all!" + Therefore the dance of praise they trod + In the Atreïd brethren's hall. + + They opened before men's eyes [_Antistrophe_. + That which was hid before, + The chambers of sacrifice, + The dark of the golden door, + And fires on the altar floor. + And bright was every street, + And the voice of the Muses' tree. + The carven lotus, was lifted sweet; + When afar and suddenly, + Strange songs, and a voice that grew: + "Come to your king, ye folk! + Mine, mine, is the Golden Ewe!" + 'Twas dark Thyestes spoke. + For, lo, when the world was still, + With his brother's bride he lay, + And won her to work his will, + And they stole the Lamb away! + Then forth to the folk strode he, + And called them about his fold, + And showed that Sign of the King to be, + The fleece and the horns of gold. + + Then, then, the world was changed; [_Strophe_ 2. + And the Father, where they ranged, + Shook the golden stars and glowing, + And the great Sun stood deranged + In the glory of his going. + + Lo, from that day forth, the East + Bears the sunrise on his breast, + And the flaming Day in heaven + Down the dim ways of the west + Driveth, to be lost at even. + + The wet clouds to Northward beat; + And Lord Ammon's desert seat + Crieth from the South, unslaken, + For the dews that once were sweet, + For the rain that God hath taken. + + 'Tis a children's tale, that old [_Antistrophe_ 2. + Shepherds on far hills have told; + And we reck not of their telling, + Deem not that the Sun of gold + Ever turned his fiery dwelling, + + Or beat backward in the sky, + For the wrongs of man, the cry + Of his ailing tribes assembled, + To do justly, ere they die! + Once, men told the tale, and trembled; + + Fearing God, O Queen: whom thou + Hast forgotten, till thy brow + With old blood is dark and daunted. + And thy brethren, even now, + Walk among the stars, enchanted. + +LEADER. + +Ha, friends, was that a voice? Or some dream sound +Of voices shaketh me, as underground +God's thunder shuddering? Hark, again, and clear! +It swells upon the wind.--Come forth and hear! +Mistress, Electra! + +ELECTRA, _a bare sword in her hand, comes from the house._ + +ELECTRA. + + Friends! Some news is brought? +How hath the battle ended? + +LEADER. + + I know naught. +There seemed a cry as of men massacred! + +ELECTRA. + +I heard it too. Far off, but still I heard. + +LEADER. + +A distant floating voice ... Ah, plainer now! + +ELECTRA. + +Of Argive anguish!--Brother, is it thou? + +LEADER. + +I know not. Many confused voices cry... + +ELECTRA. + +Death, then for me! That answer bids me die. + +LEADER. + +Nay, wait! We know not yet thy fortune. Wait! + +ELECTRA. + +No messenger from him!--Too late, too late! + +LEADER. + +The message yet will come. 'Tis not a thing +So light of compass, to strike down a king. + + _Enter a_ MESSENGER, _running_. + +MESSENGER. + +Victory, Maids of Argos, Victory! +Orestes ... all that love him, list to me!... +Hath conquered! Agamemnon's murderer lies +Dead! O give thanks to God with happy cries! + +ELECTRA. + +Who art thou? I mistrust thee.... 'Tis a plot! + +MESSENGER. + +Thy brother's man. Look well. Dost know me not? + +ELECTRA. + +Friend, friend; my terror made me not to see +Thy visage. Now I know and welcome thee. +How sayst thou? He is dead, verily dead, +My father's murderer...? + +MESSENGER. + + Shall it be said +Once more? I know again and yet again +Thy heart would hear. Aegisthus lieth slain! + +ELECTRA. + +Ye Gods! And thou, O Right, that seest all, +Art come at last?... But speak; how did he fall? +How swooped the wing of death?... I crave to hear. + +MESSENGER. + +Forth of this hut we set our faces clear +To the world, and struck the open chariot road; +Then on toward the pasture lands, where stood +The great Lord of Mycenae. In a set +Garden beside a channelled rivulet, +Culling a myrtle garland for his brow, +He walked: but hailed us as we passed: "How now, +Strangers! Who are ye? Of what city sprung, +And whither bound?" "Thessalians," answered young +Orestes: "to Alpheüs journeying, +With gifts to Olympian Zeus." Whereat the king: +"This while, beseech you, tarry, and make full +The feast upon my hearth. We slay a bull +Here to the Nymphs. Set forth at break of day +To-morrow, and 'twill cost you no delay. +But come"--and so he gave his hand, and led +The two men in--"I must not be gainsaid; +Come to the house. Ho, there; set close at hand +Vats of pure water, that the guests may stand +At the altar's verge, where falls the holy spray." +Then quickly spake Orestes: "By the way +We cleansed us in a torrent stream. We need +No purifying here. But if indeed +Strangers may share thy worship, here are we +Ready, O King, and swift to follow thee." + +So spoke they in the midst. And every thrall +Laid down the spears they served the King withal, +And hied him to the work. Some bore amain +The death-vat, some the corbs of hallowed grain; +Or kindled fire, and round the fire and in +Set cauldrons foaming; and a festal din +Filled all the place. Then took thy mother's lord +The ritual grains, and o'er the altar poured +Its due, and prayed: "O Nymphs of Rock and Mere, +With many a sacrifice for many a year, +May I and she who waits at home for me, +My Tyndarid Queen, adore you. May it be +Peace with us always, even as now; and all +Ill to mine enemies"--meaning withal +Thee and Orestes. Then my master prayed +Against that prayer, but silently, and said +No word, to win once more his fatherland. +Then in the corb Aegisthus set his hand, +Took the straight blade, cut from the proud bull's head +A lock, and laid it where the fire was red; +Then, while the young men held the bull on high, +Slew it with one clean gash; and suddenly +Turned on thy brother: "Stranger, every true +Thessalian, so the story goes, can hew +A bull's limbs clean, and tame a mountain steed. +Take up the steel, and show us if indeed +Rumour speak true," Right swift Orestes took +The Dorian blade, back from his shoulders shook +His broochèd mantle, called on Pylades +To aid him, and waved back the thralls. With ease +Heelwise he held the bull, and with one glide +Bared the white limb; then stripped the mighty hide +From off him, swifter than a runner runs +His furlongs, and laid clean the flank. At once +Aegisthus stooped, and lifted up with care +The ominous parts, and gazed. No lobe was there; +But lo, strange caves of gall, and, darkly raised, +The portal vein boded to him that gazed +Fell visitations. Dark as night his brow +Clouded. Then spake Orestes: "Why art thou +Cast down so sudden?" "Guest," he cried, "there be +Treasons from whence I know not, seeking me. +Of all my foes, 'tis Agamemnon's son; +His hate is on my house, like war." "Have done!" +Orestes cried: "thou fear'st an exile's plot, +Lord of a city? Make thy cold heart hot +With meat.--Ho, fling me a Thessalian steel! +This Dorian is too light. I will unseal +The breast of him." He took the heavier blade, +And clave the bone. And there Aegisthus stayed, +The omens in his hand, dividing slow +This sign from that; till, while his head bent low, +Up with a leap thy brother flashed the sword, +Then down upon his neck, and cleft the cord +Of brain and spine. Shuddering the body stood +One instant in an agony of blood, +And gasped and fell. The henchmen saw, and straight +Flew to their spears, a host of them to set +Against those twain. But there the twain did stand +Unfaltering, each his iron in his hand, +Edge fronting edge. Till "Hold," Orestes calls: +"I come not as in wrath against these walls +And mine own people. One man righteously +I have slain, who slew my father. It is I, +The wronged Orestes! Hold, and smite me not, +Old housefolk of my father!" When they caught +That name, their lances fell. And one old man, +An ancient in the house, drew nigh to scan +His face, and knew him. Then with one accord +They crowned thy brother's temples, and outpoured +joy and loud songs. And hither now he fares +To show the head, no Gorgon, that he bears, +But that Aegisthus whom thou hatest! Yea, +Blood against blood, his debt is paid this day. + +[_He goes off to meet the others_--ELECTRA _stands as though stupefied_. + +CHORUS. + + Now, now thou shalt dance in our dances, + Beloved, as a fawn in the night! + The wind is astir for the glances + Of thy feet; thou art robed with delight. + + He hath conquered, he cometh to free us + With garlands new-won, + More high than the crowns of Alpheüs, + Thine own father's son: + Cry, cry, for the day that is won! + + +ELECTRA. + +O Light of the Sun, O chariot wheels of flame, +O Earth and Night, dead Night without a name +That held me! Now mine eyes are raised to see, +And all the doorways of my soul flung free. +Aegisthus dead! My father's murderer dead! + What have I still of wreathing for the head +Stored in my chambers? Let it come forth now +To bind my brother's and my conqueror's brow. + +[_Some garlands are brought out from the house to_ ELECTRA. + +CHORUS. + +Go, gather thy garlands, and lay them + As a crown on his brow, many-tressed, +But our feet shall refrain not nor stay them: + 'Tis the joy that the Muses have blest. +For our king is returned as from prison, + The old king, to be master again, +Our belovèd in justice re-risen: + With guile he hath slain... + But cry, cry in joyance again! + +[_There enter from the left_ ORESTES _and_ PYLADES, _followed by some +thralls_. + +ELECTRA. + +O conqueror, come! The king that trampled Troy +Knoweth his son Orestes. Come in joy, +Brother, and take to bind thy rippling hair +My crowns!.... O what are crowns, that runners wear +For some vain race? But thou in battle true +Hast felled our foe Aegisthus, him that slew +By craft thy sire and mine. [_She crowns_ ORESTES. + And thou no less, +O friend at need, O reared in righteousness, +Take, Pylades, this chaplet from my hand. +'Twas half thy battle. And may ye two stand +Thus alway, victory-crowned, before my face! [_She crowns_ PYLADES. + +ORESTES. + +Electra, first as workers of this grace +Praise thou the Gods, and after, if thou will, +Praise also me, as chosen to fulfil +God's work and Fate's.--Aye, 'tis no more a dream; +In very deed I come from slaying him. +Thou hast the knowledge clear, but lo, I bring +More also. See himself, dead! + [_Attendants bring in the body of_ AEGISTHUS _on a bier_. + Wouldst thou fling +This lord on the rotting earth for beasts to tear? +Or up, where all the vultures of the air +May glut them, pierce and nail him for a sign +Far off? Work all thy will. Now he is thine. + +ELECTRA. + +It shames me; yet, God knows, I hunger sore-- + +ORESTES. + +What wouldst thou? Speak; the old fear nevermore +Need touch thee. + +ELECTRA. + + To let loose upon the dead +My hate! Perchance to rouse on mine own head +The sleeping hate of the world? + +ORESTES. + + No man that lives +Shall scathe thee by one word. + +ELECTRA. + + Our city gives +Quick blame; and little love have men for me. + +ORESTES. + +If aught thou hast unsaid, sister, be free +And speak. Between this man and us no bar +Cometh nor stint, but the utter rage of war. + [_She goes and stands over the body. A moment's silence_. + +ELECTRA. + + Ah me, what have I? What first flood of hate +To loose upon thee? What last curse to sate +My pain, or river of wild words to flow +Bank-high between?... Nothing?... And yet I know +There hath not passed one sun, but through the long +Cold dawns, over and over, like a song, +I have said them--words held back, O, some day yet +To flash into thy face, would but the fret +Of ancient fear fall loose and let me free. +And free I am, now; and can pay to thee +At last the weary debt. + Oh, thou didst kill +My soul within. Who wrought thee any ill, +That thou shouldst make me fatherless? Aye, me +And this my brother, loveless, solitary? +'Twas thou, didst bend my mother to her shame: +Thy weak hand murdered him who led to fame +The hosts of Hellas--thou, that never crossed +O'erseas to Troy!... God help thee, wast thou lost +In blindness, long ago, dreaming, some-wise, +She would be true with thee, whose sin and lies +Thyself had tasted in my father's place? +And then, that thou wert happy, when thy days +Were all one pain? Thou knewest ceaselessly +Her kiss a thing unclean, and she knew thee +A lord so little true, so dearly won! +So lost ye both, being in falseness one, +What fortune else had granted; she thy curse, +Who marred thee as she loved thee, and thou hers... +And on thy ways thou heardst men whispering, +"Lo, the Queen's husband yonder"--not "the King." + And then the lie of lies that dimmed thy brow, +Vaunting that by thy gold, thy chattels, Thou +Wert Something; which themselves are nothingness. +Shadows, to clasp a moment ere they cease. +The thing thou art, and not the things thou hast, +Abideth, yea, and bindeth to the last +Thy burden on thee: while all else, ill-won +And sin-companioned, like a flower o'erblown, +Flies on the wind away. + Or didst them find +In women ... Women?... Nay, peace, peace! The blind +Could read thee. Cruel wast thou in thine hour, +Lord of a great king's house, and like a tower +Firm in thy beauty. [_Starting back with a look of loathing_. + Ah, that girl-like face! +God grant, not that, not that, but some plain grace +Of manhood to the man who brings me love: +A father of straight children, that shall move +Swift on the wings of War. + + So, get thee gone! +Naught knowing how the great years, rolling on, +Have laid thee bare, and thy long debt full paid. + O vaunt not, if one step be proudly made +In evil, that all Justice is o'ercast: +Vaunt not, ye men of sin, ere at the last +The thin-drawn marge before you glimmereth +Close, and the goal that wheels 'twixt life and death. + +LEADER. + +Justice is mighty. Passing dark hath been +His sin: and dark the payment of his sin. + +ELECTRA (_with a weary sigh, turning from the body_). + +Ah me! Go some of you, bear him from sight, +That when my mother come, her eyes may light +On nothing, nothing, till she know the sword.... + [_The body is borne into the hut_. PYLADES _goes with it_. + +ORESTES (_looking along the road_). + +Stay, 'tis a new thing! We have still a word +To speak... + +ELECTRA. + + What? Not a rescue from the town +Thou seëst? + +ORESTES. + + 'Tis my mother comes: my own +Mother, that bare me. [_He takes off his crown_. + +ELECTRA (_springing, as it were, to life again, and moving where she can +see the road_). + + Straight into the snare! +Aye, there she cometh,--Welcome in thy rare +Chariot! All welcome in thy brave array! + +ORESTES. + +What would we with our mother? Didst thou say +Kill her? + +ELECTRA (_turning on him_). + + What? Is it pity? Dost thou fear +To see thy mother's shape? + +ORESTES. + + 'Twas she that bare +My body into life. She gave me suck. +How can I strike her? + +ELECTRA. + + Strike her as she struck +Our father! + +ORESTES (_to himself, brooding_). + + Phoebus, God, was all thy mind +Turned unto darkness? + +ELECTRA. + + If thy God be blind, +Shalt thou have light? + +ORESTES (_as before_). + + Thou, thou, didst bid me kill +My mother: which is sin. + +ELECTRA. + + How brings it ill +To thee, to raise our father from the dust? + +ORESTES. + +I was a clean man once. Shall I be thrust +From men's sight, blotted with her blood? + +ELECTRA. + + Thy blot +Is black as death if him thou succour not! + +ORESTES. + +Who shall do judgment on me, when she dies? + +ELECTRA. + +Who shall do judgment, if thy father lies. +Forgotten? + +ORESTES (_turning suddenly to_ ELECTRA). + + Stay! How if some fiend of Hell, +Hid in God's likeness, spake that oracle? + +ELECTRA. + +In God's own house? I trow not. + +ORESTES. + + And I trow +It was an evil charge! [_He moves away from her._ + +ELECTRA (_almost despairing_). + + To fail me now! +To fail me now! A coward!--O brother, no! + +ORESTES. + +What shall it be, then? The same stealthy blow ... + +ELECTRA. + +That slew our father! Courage! thou hast slain +Aegisthus. + +ORESTES. + + Aye. So be it.--I have ta'en +A path of many terrors: and shall do +Deeds horrible. 'Tis God will have it so.... +Is this the joy of battle, or wild woe? [_He goes into the house._ + +LEADER. + +O Queen o'er Argos thronèd high, + O Woman, sister of the twain, + God's Horsemen, stars without a stain, +Whose home is in the deathless sky, + Whose glory in the sea's wild pain, +Toiling to succour men that die: +Long years above us hast thou been, + God-like for gold and marvelled power: + Ah, well may mortal eyes this hour +Observe thy state: All hail, O Queen! + +_Enter from the right_ CLYTEMNESTRA _on a chariot, accompanied by richly +dressed Handmaidens_. + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + +Down from the wain, ye dames of Troy, and hold +Mine arm as I dismount.... [_Answering_ ELECTRA'S _thought_. + The spoils and gold +Of Ilion I have sent out of my hall +To many shrines. These bondwomen are all +I keep in mine own house.... Deemst thou the cost +Too rich to pay me for the child I lost-- +Fair though they be? + +ELECTRA. + + Nay, Mother, here am I +Bond likewise, yea, and homeless, to hold high +Thy royal arm! + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + + Child, the war slaves are here; +Thou needst not toil. + +ELECTRA. + + What was it but the spear +Of war, drove me forth too? Mine enemies +Have sacked my father's house, and, even as these, +Captives and fatherless, made me their prey. + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + +It was thy father cast his child away, +A child he might have loved!... Shall I speak out? +(_Controlling herself_) Nay; when a woman once is caught about +With evil fame, there riseth in her tongue +A bitter spirit--wrong, I know! Yet, wrong +Or right, I charge ye look on the deeds done; +And if ye needs must hate, when all is known, +Hate on! What profits loathing ere ye know? + My father gave me to be his. 'Tis so. +But was it his to kill me, or to kill +The babes I bore? Yet, lo, he tricked my will +With fables of Achilles' love: he bore +To Aulis and the dark ship-clutching shore, +He held above the altar-flame, and smote, +Cool as one reaping, through the strainèd throat, +My white Iphigenia.... Had it been +To save some falling city, leaguered in +With foemen; to prop up our castle towers, +And rescue other children that were ours, +Giving one life for many, by God's laws +I had forgiven all! Not so. Because +Helen was wanton, and her master knew +No curb for her: for that, for that, he slew +My daughter!--Even then, with all my wrong, +No wild beast yet was in me. Nay, for long, +I never would have killed him. But he came, +At last, bringing that damsel, with the flame +Of God about her, mad and knowing all: +And set her in my room; and in one wall +Would hold two queens!--O wild are woman's eyes +And hot her heart. I say not otherwise. +But, being thus wild, if then her master stray +To love far off, and cast his own away, +Shall not her will break prison too, and wend +Somewhere to win some other for a friend? +And then on us the world's curse waxes strong +In righteousness! The lords of all the wrong +Must hear no curse!--I slew him. I trod then +The only road: which led me to the men +He hated. Of the friends of Argos whom +Durst I have sought, to aid me to the doom +I craved?--Speak if thou wouldst, and fear not me, +If yet thou deemst him slain unrighteously. + +LEADER. + +Thy words be just, yet shame their justice brings; +A woman true of heart should bear all things +From him she loves. And she who feels it not, +I cannot reason of her, nor speak aught. + +ELECTRA. + +Remember, mother, thy last word of grace, +Bidding me speak, and fear not, to thy face. + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + +So said I truly, child, and so say still. + +ELECTRA. + +Wilt softly hear, and after work me ill? + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + +Not so, not so. I will but pleasure thee. + +ELECTRA. + +I answer then. And, mother, this shall be +My prayer of opening, where hangs the whole: +Would God that He had made thee clean of soul! +Helen and thou--O, face and form were fair, +Meet for men's praise; but sisters twain ye were, +Both things of naught, a stain on Castor's star, +And Helen slew her honour, borne afar +In wilful ravishment: but thou didst slay +The highest man of the world. And now wilt say +'Twas wrought in justice for thy child laid low +At Aulis?... Ah, who knows thee as I know? +Thou, thou, who long ere aught of ill was done +Thy child, when Agamemnon scarce was gone, +Sate at the looking-glass, and tress by tress +Didst comb the twined gold in loneliness. +When any wife, her lord being far away. +Toils to be fair, O blot her out that day +As false within! What would she with a cheek +So bright in strange men's eyes, unless she seek +Some treason? None but I, thy child, could so +Watch thee in Hellas: none but I could know +Thy face of gladness when our enemies +Were strong, and the swift cloud upon thine eyes +If Troy seemed falling, all thy soul keen-set +Praying that he might come no more!... And yet +It was so easy to be true. A king +Was thine, not feebler, not in anything +Below Aegisthus; one whom Hellas chose +For chief beyond all kings. Aye, and God knows, +How sweet a name in Greece, after the sin +Thy sister wrought, lay in thy ways to win. +Ill deeds make fair ones shine, and turn thereto +Men's eyes.--Enough: but say he wronged thee; slew +By craft thy child:--what wrong had I done, what +The babe Orestes? Why didst render not +Back unto us, the children of the dead, +Our father's portion? Must thou heap thy bed +With gold of murdered men, to buy to thee +Thy strange man's arms? Justice! Why is not he +Who cast Orestes out, cast out again? +Not slain for me whom doubly he hath slain, +In living death, more bitter than of old +My sister's? Nay, when all the tale is told +Of blood for blood, what murder shall we make, +I and Orestes, for our father's sake? + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + +Aye, child; I know thy heart, from long ago. +Thou hast alway loved him best. 'Tis oft-time so: +One is her father's daughter, and one hot +To bear her mother's part. I blame thee not.... +Yet think not I am happy, child; nor flown +With pride now, in the deeds my hand hath done.... + [_Seeing_ ELECTRA _unsympathetic, she checks herself_. + But thou art all untended, comfortless +Of body and wild of raiment; and thy stress +Of travail scarce yet ended!... Woe is me! +'Tis all as I have willed it. Bitterly +I wrought against him, to the last blind deep +Of bitterness.... Woe's me! + +ELECTRA. + + Fair days to weep, +When help is not! Or stay: though he lie cold +Long since, there lives another of thy fold +Far off; there might be pity for thy son? + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + +I dare not!... Yes, I fear him. 'Tis mine own +Life, and not his, comes first. And rumour saith +His heart yet burneth for his father's death. + +ELECTRA. + +Why dost thou keep thine husband ever hot +Against me? + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + + 'Tis his mood. And thou art not +So gentle, child! + +ELECTRA. + + My spirit is too sore! +Howbeit, from this day I will no more +Hate him. + +CLYTEMNESTRA (_with a flash of hope_). + + O daughter!--Then, indeed, shall he, +I promise, never more be harsh to thee! + +ELECTRA. + +He lieth in my house, as 'twere his own. +'Tis that hath made him proud. + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + + Nay, art thou flown +To strife again so quick, child? + +ELECTRA. + + Well; I say +No more; long have I feared him, and alway +Shall fear him, even as now! + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + + Nay, daughter, peace! +It bringeth little profit, speech like this... +Why didst thou call me hither? + +ELECTRA. + + It reached thee, +My word that a man-child is born to me? +Do thou make offering for me--for the rite +I know not--as is meet on the tenth night. +I cannot; I have borne no child till now. + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + +Who tended thee? 'Tis she should make the vow. + +ELECTRA. + +None tended me. Alone I bare my child. + +CLYTEMNESTRA + +What, is thy cot so friendless? And this wild +So far from aid? + +ELECTRA. + + Who seeks for friendship sake +A beggar's house? + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + + I will go in, and make +Due worship for thy child, the Peace-bringer. +To all thy need I would be minister. +Then to my lord, where by the meadow side +He prays the woodland nymphs. + Ye handmaids, guide +My chariot to the stall, and when ye guess +The rite draws near its end, in readiness +Be here again. Then to my lord!... I owe +My lord this gladness, too. + +[_The Attendants depart;_ CLYTEMNESTRA, _left alone, proceeds to enter the +house_. + +ELECTRA. + + Welcome below +My narrow roof! But have a care withal, +A grime of smoke lies deep upon the wall. +Soil not thy robe!... + Not far now shall it be, +The sacrifice God asks of me and thee. +The bread of Death is broken, and the knife +Lifted again that drank the Wild Bull's life: +And on his breast.... Ha, Mother, hast slept well +Aforetime? Thou shalt lie with him in Hell. +That grace I give to cheer thee on thy road; +Give thou to me--peace from my father's blood! + [_She follows her mother into the house_. + +CHORUS. + + Lo, the returns of wrong. + The wind as a changèd thing + Whispereth overhead + Of one that of old lay dead + In the water lapping long: + My King, O my King! + + A cry in the rafters then + Rang, and the marble dome: + "Mercy of God, not thou, + "Woman! To slay me now, + "After the harvests ten + "Now, at the last, come home!" + + O Fate shall turn as the tide, + Turn, with a doom of tears + For the flying heart too fond; + A doom for the broken bond. + She hailed him there in his pride, + Home from the perilous years, + + In the heart of his wallèd lands, + In the Giants' cloud-capt ring; + Herself, none other, laid + The hone to the axe's blade; + She lifted it in her hands, + The woman, and slew her king. + + Woe upon spouse and spouse, + Whatso of evil sway + Held her in that distress! + Even as a lioness + Breaketh the woodland boughs + Starving, she wrought her way. + +VOICE OF CLYTEMNESTRA. + +O Children, Children; in the name of God, +Slay not your mother! + +A WOMAN. + + Did ye hear a cry +Under the rafters? + +ANOTHER. + + I weep too, yea, I; +Down on the mother's heart the child hath trod! + [_A death-cry from within_. + +ANOTHER. + +God bringeth Justice in his own slow tide. + Aye, cruel is thy doom; but thy deeds done + Evil, thou piteous woman, and on one + Whose sleep was by thy side! + +[_The door bursts open, and_ ORESTES _and_ ELECTRA _come forth in +disorder. Attendants bring out the bodies of_ CLYTEMNESTRA _and_ +AEGISTHUS. + +LEADER. + +Lo, yonder, in their mother's new-spilt gore +Red-garmented and ghastly, from the door +They reel.... O horrible! Was it agony +Like this, she boded in her last wild cry? +There lives no seed of man calamitous, +Nor hath lived, like this seed of Tantalus. + +ORESTES. + +O Dark of the Earth, O God, + Thou to whom all is plain; +Look on my sin, my blood, + This horror of dead things twain; +Gathered as one they lie +Slain; and the slayer was I, + I, to pay for my pain! + +ELECTRA. + +Let tear rain upon tear, + Brother: but mine is the blame. +A fire stood over her, + And out of the fire I came, +I, in my misery.... +And I was the child at her knee. + 'Mother' I named her name. + +CHORUS. + +Alas for Fate, for the Fate of thee, +O Mother, Mother of Misery: +And Misery, lo, hath turned again, +To slay thee, Misery and more, +Even in the fruit thy body bore. +Yet hast thou Justice, Justice plain, + For a sire's blood spilt of yore! + +ORESTES. + +Apollo, alas for the hymn + Thou sangest, as hope in mine ear! +The Song was of Justice dim, + But the Deed is anguish clear; +And the Gift, long nights of fear, + Of blood and of wandering, + Where cometh no Greek thing, +Nor sight, nor sound on the air. +Yea, and beyond, beyond, + Roaming--what rest is there? +Who shall break bread with me? +Who, that is clean, shall see +And hate not the blood-red hand, + His mother's murderer? + +ELECTRA. + +And I? What clime shall hold + My evil, or roof it above? +I cried for dancing of old, + I cried in my heart for love: +What dancing waiteth me now? +What love that shall kiss my brow + Nor blench at the brand thereof? + +CHORUS. + +Back, back, in the wind and rain +Thy driven spirit wheeleth again. +Now is thine heart made clean within +That was dark of old and murder-fraught. +But, lo, thy brother; what hast thou wrought.... +Yea, though I love thee.... what woe, what sin, + On him, who willed it not! + + +ORESTES. + +Saw'st thou her raiment there, + Sister, there in the blood? + She drew it back as she stood, +She opened her bosom bare, + She bent her knees to the earth, + The knees that bent in my birth.... +And I ... Oh, her hair, her hair.... + [_He breaks into inarticulate weeping_ + +CHORUS. + +Oh, thou didst walk in agony, +Hearing thy mother's cry, the cry +Of wordless wailing, well know I. + +ELECTRA. + +She stretched her hand to my cheek, + And there brake from her lips a moan; + 'Mercy, my child, my own!' +Her hand clung to my cheek; +Clung, and my arm was weak; + And the sword fell and was gone. + +CHORUS. + +Unhappy woman, could thine eye +Look on the blood, and see her lie, +Thy mother, where she turned to die? + +ORESTES. + +I lifted over mine eyes + My mantle: blinded I smote, +As one smiteth a sacrifice; + And the sword found her throat. + +ELECTRA. + +I gave thee the sign and the word; +I touched with mine hand thy sword. + +LEADER. + +Dire is the grief ye have wrought. + +ORESTES. + +Sister, touch her again: + Oh, veil the body of her; + Shed on her raiment fair, +And close that death-red stain. + --Mother! And didst thou bear, +Bear in thy bitter pain, + To life, thy murderer? + +[_The two kneel over the body of_ CLYTEMNESTRA, _and cover her with +raiment_. + +ELECTRA. + +On her that I loved of yore, + Robe upon robe I cast: +On her that I hated sore. + +CHORUS. + +O House that hath hated sore, + Behold thy peace at the last! + + * * * * * + +LEADER. + +Ha, see: above the roof-tree high + There shineth ... Is some spirit there + Of earth or heaven? That thin air +Was never trod by things that die! + What bodes it now that forth they fare, +To men revealèd visibly? + +[_There appears in the air a vision of_ CASTOR _and_ POLYDEUCES. _The +mortals kneel or veil their faces._ + +CASTOR. + +Thou Agamemnon's Son, give ear! 'Tis we. +Castor and Polydeuces, call to thee, +God's Horsemen and thy mother's brethren twain. +An Argive ship, spent with the toiling main, +We bore but now to peace, and, here withal +Being come, have seen thy mother's bloody fall, +Our sister's. Righteous is her doom this day, +But not thy deed. And Phoebus, Phoebus ... Nay; +He is my lord; therefore I hold my peace. +Yet though in light he dwell, no light was this +He showed to thee, but darkness! Which do thou +Endure, as man must, chafing not. And now +Fare forth where Zeus and Fate have laid thy life. + The maid Electra thou shalt give for wife +To Pylades; then turn thy head and flee +From Argos' land. 'Tis never more for thee +To tread this earth where thy dead mother lies. +And, lo, in the air her Spirits, bloodhound eyes, +Most horrible yet Godlike, hard at heel +Following shall scourge thee as a burning wheel, +Speed-maddened. Seek thou straight Athena's land, +And round her awful image clasp thine hand, +Praying: and she will fence them back, though hot +With flickering serpents, that they touch thee not, +Holding above thy brow her gorgon shield. + There is a hill in Athens, Ares' field, +Where first for that first death by Ares done +On Halirrhothius, Poseidon's son, +Who wronged his daughter, the great Gods of yore +Held judgment: and true judgments evermore +Flow from that Hill, trusted of man and God. +There shalt thou stand arraignèd of this blood; +And of those judges half shall lay on thee +Death, and half pardon; so shalt thou go free. +For Phoebus in that hour, who bade thee shed +Thy mother's blood, shall take on his own head +The stain thereof. And ever from that strife +The law shall hold, that when, for death or life +Of one pursued, men's voices equal stand, +Then Mercy conquereth.--But for thee, the band +Of Spirits dread, down, down, in very wrath, +Shall sink beside that Hill, making their path +Through a dim chasm, the which shall aye be trod +By reverent feet, where men may speak with God. +But thou forgotten and far off shalt dwell, +By great Alpheüs' waters, in a dell +Of Arcady, where that gray Wolf-God's wall +Stands holy. And thy dwelling men shall call +Orestes Town. So much to thee be spoke. +But this dead man, Aegisthus, all the folk +Shall bear to burial in a high green grave +Of Argos. For thy mother, she shall have +Her tomb from Menelaus, who hath come +This day, at last, to Argos, bearing home +Helen. From Egypt comes she, and the hall +Of Proteus, and in Troy hath ne'er at all +Set foot. 'Twas but a wraith of Helen, sent +By Zeus, to make much wrath and ravishment. + So forth for home, bearing the virgin bride, +Let Pylades make speed, and lead beside +Thy once-named brother, and with golden store +Stablish his house far off on Phocis' shore. + Up, gird thee now to the steep Isthmian way, +Seeking Athena's blessèd rock; one day, +Thy doom of blood fulfilled and this long stress +Of penance past, thou shalt have happiness. + + + LEADER (_looking up_). + + Is it for us, O Seed of Zeus, + To speak and hear your words again! +CASTOR. Speak: of this blood ye bear no stain. +ELECTRA. I also, sons of Tyndareus, + + My kinsmen; may my word be said? +CASTOR. Speak: on Apollo's head we lay + The bloody doings of this day. +LEADER. Ye Gods, ye brethren of the dead, + + Why held ye not the deathly herd + Of Kêres back from off this home? +CASTOR. There came but that which needs must come + By ancient Fate and that dark word + + That rang from Phoebus in his mood. +ELECTRA. And what should Phoebus seek with me, + Or all God's oracles that be, + That I must bear my mother's blood? + +CASTOR. Thy hand was as thy brother's hand, + Thy doom shall be as his. One stain, + From dim forefathers on the twain + Lighting, hath sapped your hearts as sand. + +ORESTES (_who has never raised his head, nor spoken to the Gods_). + + After so long, sister, to see + And hold thee, and then part, then part, + By all that chained thee to my heart + Forsaken, and forsaking thee! + +CASTOR. Husband and house are hers. She bears + No bitter judgment, save to go + Exiled from Argos. +ELECTRA. And what woe, + What tears are like an exile's tears? + +ORESTES. Exiled and more am I; impure, + A murderer in a stranger's hand: +CASTOR. Fear not. There dwells in Pallas' land + All holiness. Till then endure! + [ORESTES _and_ ELECTRA _embrace_ + +ORESTES. Aye, closer; clasp my body well, + And let thy sorrow loose, and shed, + As o'er the grave of one new dead, + Dead evermore, thy last farewell! [_A sound of weeping_. + +CASTOR. Alas, what would ye? For that cry + Ourselves and all the sons of heaven + Have pity. Yea, our peace is riven + By the strange pain of these that die. + +ORESTES. No more to see thee! ELECTRA. Nor thy breath + Be near my face! ORESTES. Ah, so it ends. +ELECTRA. Farewell, dear Argos. All ye friends, + Farewell! ORESTES. O faithful unto death, + + Thou goest? ELECTRA. Aye, I pass from you, + Soft-eyed at last. ORESTES. Go, Pylades, + And God go with you! Wed in peace + My tall Electra, and be true. + [ELECTRA _and_ PYLADES _depart to the left._ + +CASTOR. + + Their troth shall fill their hearts.--But on: + Dread feet are near thee, hounds of prey, + Snake-handed, midnight-visaged, yea, + And bitter pains their fruit! Begone! + [ORESTES _departs to the right_. + + But hark, the far Sicilian sea + Calls, and a noise of men and ships + That labour sunken to the lips + In bitter billows; forth go we, + + Through the long leagues of fiery blue, + With saving; not to souls unshriven; + But whoso in his life hath striven + To love things holy and be true, + + Through toil and storm we guard him; we + Save, and he shall not die!--Therefore, + O praise the lying man no more, + Nor with oath-breakers sail the sea: + Farewell, ye walkers on the shore + Of death! A God hath counselled ye. + [CASTOR _and_ POLYDEUCES _disappear_. + + CHORUS. + + Farewell, farewell!--But he who can so fare, + And stumbleth not on mischief anywhere, + Blessed on earth is he! + + + + +NOTES TO THE ELECTRA + + +The chief characters in the play belong to one family, as is shown by the +two genealogies:-- + + +I. + + TANTALUS + | + Pelops + __________|__________________ + | | + Atreus Thyestes + _________|__________ | + | | | + Agamemnon Menelaus Aegisthus + (=Clytemnestra) (=Helen) (=Clytemnestra) + _____|________________________ + | | | +Iphigenia Electra Orestes + +(Also, a sister of Agamemnon, name variously given, married Strophios, and +was the mother of Pylades.) + + +II. + + Tyndareus = Leda = Zeus + ____________________| ____|_________________________ + | | | | +Clytemnestra Castor Polydeuces Helen + + +P. 1, l. 10, Son of his father's foe.]--Both foe and brother. Atreus and +Thyestes became enemies after the theft of the Golden Lamb. See pp. 47 ff. + +P. 2, l. 34, Must wed with me.]--In Aeschylus and Sophocles Electra is +unmarried. This story of her peasant husband is found only in Euripides, +but is not likely to have been wantonly invented by him. It was no doubt +an existing legend--an [Greek: ôn logos], to use the phrase attributed to +Euripides in the _Frogs_ (l. 1052). He may have chosen to adopt it for +several reasons. First, to marry Electra to a peasant was a likely step +for Aegisthus to take, since any child born to her afterwards would bear a +stigma, calculated to damage him fatally as a pretender to the throne. +Again, it seemed to explain the name "A-lektra" (as if from [Greek: +lektron] "bed;" cf. Schol. _Orestes_, 71, Soph. _El_. 962, _Ant_. 917) +more pointedly than the commoner version. And it helps in the working out +of Electra's character (cf. pp. 17, 22, &c.). Also it gives an opportunity +of introducing the fine character of the peasant. He is an [Greek: +Autourgos] literally "self-worker," a man who works his own land, far from +the city, neither a slave nor a slave-master; "the men," as Euripides says +in the _Orestes_ (920), "who alone save a nation." (Cf, _Bac_., p. 115 +foot, and below, p. 26, ll. 367-390.) As Euripides became more and more +alienated from the town democracy he tended, like Tolstoy and others, to +idealise the workers of the soil. + +P. 6, l. 62, Children to our enemy.]--Cf. 626. Soph. _El_. 589. They do +not seem to be in existence at the time of the play. + +Pp. 5-6.]--Electra's first two speeches are admirable as expositions of +her character--the morbid nursing of hatred as a duty, the deliberate +posing, the impulsiveness, the quick response to kindness. + +P. 7, l. 82, Pylades.]--Pylades is a _persona muta_ both here and in +Sophocles' _Electra_, a fixed traditional figure, possessing no quality +but devotion to Orestes. In Aeschylus' _Libation-Bearers_ he speaks only +once, with tremendous effect, at the crisis of the play, to rebuke Orestes +when his heart fails him. In the _Iphigenia in Tauris_, however, and still +more in the _Orestes_, he is a fully studied character. + +P. 10, l. 151, A swan crying alone.]--Cf. _Bacchae_, p. 152, "As yearns +the milk-white swan when old swans die." + +P. 11, ll. 169 ff., The Watcher hath cried this day.]--Hera was an old +Pelasgian goddess, whose worship was kept in part a mystery from the +invading Achaeans or Dorians. There seems to have been a priest born "of +the ancient folk," _i.e._, a Pelasgian or aboriginal Mycenaean, who, by +some secret lore--probably some ancient and superseded method of +calculating the year--knew when Hera's festival was due, and walked round +the country three days beforehand to announce it. He drank "the milk of +the flock" and avoided wine, either from some religious taboo, or because +he represented the religion of the milk-drinking mountain shepherds. + +P. 13, ll. 220 ff.]--Observe Electra's cowardice when surprised; contrast +her courage, p. 47, when sending Orestes off, and again her quick drop to +despair when the news does not come soon enough. + +P. 16, ll. 247 ff., I am a wife.... O better dead!]--Rather ungenerous, +when compared with her words on p. 6. (Cf. also her words on pp. 24 and +26.) But she feels this herself, almost immediately. Orestes naturally +takes her to mean that her husband is one of Aegisthus' friends. This +would have ruined his plot. (Cf. above, p. 8, l. 98.) + +P. 22, l. 312, Castor.]--I know no other mention of Electra's betrothal to +Castor. He was her kinsman: see below on l. 990. + +Pp. 22-23, ll. 300-337.]--In this wonderful outbreak, observe the mixture +of all sorts of personal resentments and jealousies with the devotion of +the lonely woman to her father and her brother. "So men say," is an +interesting touch; perhaps conscience tells her midway that she does not +quite believe what she is saying. So is the self-conscious recognition of +her "bitter burning brain" that interprets all things in a sort of +distortion.--Observe, too, how instinctively she turns to the peasant for +sympathy in the strain of her emotion. It is his entrance, perhaps, which +prevents Orestes from being swept away and revealing himself. The +peasant's courage towards two armed men is striking, as well as his +courtesy and his sanity. He is the one character in the play not somehow +tainted with blood-madness. + +P. 27, ll. 403, 409.]--Why does Electra send her husband to the Old Man? +Not, I think, really for want of the food. It would have been easier to +borrow (p. 12, l. 191) from the Chorus; and, besides, what the peasant +says is no doubt true, that, if she liked, she could find "many a pleasant +thing" in the house. I think she sends for the Old Man because he is the +only person who would know Orestes (p. 21, l. 285). She is already, like +the Leader (p. 26, l. 401), excited by hopes which she will not confess. +This reading makes the next scene clearer also. + +Pp. 28-30, ll. 432-487, O for the Ships of Troy.]--The two main Choric +songs of this play are markedly what Aristotle calls [Greek: embolima] +"things thrown in." They have no effect upon the action, and form little +more than musical "relief." Not that they are positively irrelevant. +Agamemnon is in our minds all through the play, and Agamemnon's glory is +of course enhanced by the mention of Troy and the praises of his +subordinate king, Achilles. + +Thetis, the Nereid, or sea-maiden, was won to wife by Peleus. (He wrestled +with her on the seashore, and never loosed hold, though she turned into +divers strange beings--a lion, and fire, and water, and sea-beasts.) She +bore him Achilles, and then, unable permanently to live with a mortal, +went back beneath the sea. When Achilles was about to sail to Troy, she +and her sister Nereids brought him divine armour, and guided his ships +across the Aegean. The designs on Achilles' armour, as on Heracles' +shield, form a fairly common topic of poetry. + +The descriptions of the designs are mostly clear. Perseus with the +Gorgon's head, guided by Hermês; the Sun on a winged chariot, and stars +about him; two Sphinxes, holding as victims the men who had failed to +answer the riddles which they sang; and, on the breastplate, the Chimaera +attacking Bellerophon's winged horse, Pêgasus. The name Pêgasus suggested +to a Greek [Greek: pegê], "fountain;" and the great spring of Pirênê, near +Corinth, was made by Pêgasus stamping on the rock. + +Pp. 30-47.]--The Old Man, like other old family servants in Euripides--the +extreme case is in the _Ion_--is absolutely and even morbidly devoted to +his masters. Delightful in this first scene, he becomes a little horrible +in the next, where they plot the murders; not only ferocious himself, but, +what seems worse, inclined to pet and enjoy the bloodthirstiness of his +"little mistress." + +Pp. 30-33, ll. 510-545.]--The Signs of Orestes. This scene, I think, has +been greatly misunderstood by critics. In Aeschylus' _Libation-Bearers_, +which deals with the same subject as the _Electra_, the scene is at +Agamemnon's tomb. Orestes lays his tress there in the prologue. Electra +comes bringing libations, sees the hair, compares it with her own, finds +that it is similar "wing for wing" ([Greek: homopteros]--the same word as +here), and guesses that it belongs to Orestes. She then measures the +footprints, and finds one that is like her own, one not; evidently Orestes +and a fellow-traveller! Orestes enters and announces himself; she refuses +to believe, until he shows her a "woven thing," perhaps the robe which he +is wearing, which she recognises as the work of her own hand. + +The same signs, described in one case by the same peculiar word, occur +here. The Old Man mentions one after the other, and Electra refutes or +rejects them. It has been thought therefore that this scene was meant as +an attack--a very weak and undignified attack--on Euripides' great master. +No parallel for such an artistically ruinous proceeding is quoted from any +Greek tragedy. And, apart from the improbability _a priori_, I do not +think it even possible to read the scene in this sense. To my mind, +Electra here rejects the signs not from reason, but from a sort of nervous +terror. She dares not believe that Orestes has come; because, if it prove +otherwise, the disappointment will be so terrible. As to both signs, the +lock of hair and the footprints, her arguments may be good; but observe +that she is afraid to make the comparison at all. And as to the footprint, +she says there cannot be one, when the Old Man has just seen it! And, +anyhow, she will not go to see it! Similarly as to the robe, she does her +best to deny that she ever wove it, though she and the Old Man both +remember it perfectly. She is fighting tremulously, with all her flagging +strength, against the thing she longs for. The whole point of the scene +requires that one ray of hope after another should be shown to Electra, +and that she should passionately, blindly, reject them all. That is what +Euripides wanted the signs for. + +But why, it may be asked, did he adopt Aeschylus' signs, and even his +peculiar word? Because, whether invented by Aeschylus or not, these signs +were a canonical part of the story by the time Euripides wrote. Every one +who knew the story of Orestes' return at all, knew of the hair and the +footprint. Aristophanes in the _Clouds_ (534 ff.) uses them proverbially, +when he speaks of his comedy "recognising its brother's tress." It would +have been frivolous to invent new ones. As a matter of fact, it seems +probable that the signs are older than Aeschylus; neither they nor the +word [Greek: homopteros] particularly suit Aeschylus' purpose. (Cf. Dr. +Verrall's introduction to the _Libation-Bearers_.) They probably come from +the old lyric poet, Stesichorus. + +P. 43, l. 652, New-mothered of a Man-Child.]--Her true Man-Child, the +Avenger whom they had sought to rob her of! This pitiless plan was +suggested apparently by the sacrifice to the Nymphs (p. 40). "Weep my +babe's low station" is of course ironical. The babe would set a seal on +Electra's degradation to the peasant class, and so end the blood-feud, as +far as she was concerned. Clytemnestra, longing for peace, must rejoice in +Electra's degradation. Yet she has motherly feelings too, and in fact +hardly knows what to think or do till she can consult Aegisthus (p. 71). +Electra, it would seem, actually calculates upon these feelings, while +despising them. + +P. 45, l. 669, If but some man will guide me.]--A suggestion of the +irresolution or melancholia that beset Orestes afterwards, alternating +with furious action. (Cf. Aeschylus' _Libation-Bearers_, Euripides' +_Andromache_ and _Orestes_.) + +P. 45, l. 671, Zeus of my sires, &c]--In this invocation, short and +comparatively unmoving, one can see perhaps an effect of Aeschylus' play. +In the _Libation-Bearers_ the invocation of Agamemnon comprises 200 lines +of extraordinarily eloquent poetry. + +P. 47 ff., ll. 699 ff.]--The Golden Lamb. The theft of the Golden Lamb is +treated as a story of the First Sin, after which all the world was changed +and became the poor place that it now is. It was at least the First Sin in +the blood-feud of this drama. + +The story is not explicitly told. Apparently the magic lamb was brought by +Pan from the gods, and given to Atreus as a special grace and a sign that +he was the true king. His younger brother, Thyestes, helped by Atreus' +wife, stole it and claimed to be king himself. So good was turned into +evil, and love into hatred, and the stars shaken in their courses. + +[It is rather curious that the Lamb should have such a special effect upon +the heavens and the weather. It is the same in Plato (_Polit._ 268 ff.), +and more definitely so in the treatise _De Astrologia,_ attributed to +Lucian, which says that the Golden Lamb is the constellation Aries, "The +Ram." Hugo Winckler (_Weltanschauung des alten Orients_, pp. 30, 31) +suggests that the story is a piece of Babylonian astronomy misunderstood. +It seems that the vernal equinox, which is now moving from the Ram into +the Fish, was in the ninth and eighth centuries B.C. moving from the Bull +into the Ram. Now the Bull, Marduk, was the special god of Babylon, and +the time when he yielded his place to the Ram was also, as a matter of +fact, the time of the decline of Babylon. The gradual advance of the Ram +not only upset the calendar, and made all the seasons wrong; but seemed, +since it coincided with the fall of the Great City, to upset the world in +general! Of course Euripides would know nothing of this. He was apparently +attracted to the Golden Lamb merely by the quaint beauty of the story.] + +P. 50, l. 746, Thy brethren even now.]--Castor and Polydeuces, who were +received into the stars after their death. See below, on l. 990. + +P. 51, l. 757, That answer bids me die.]--Why? Because Orestes, if he won +at all, would win by a surprise attack, and would send news instantly. A +prolonged conflict, without a message, would mean that Orestes and Pylades +were being overpowered. Of course she is wildly impatient. + +P. 51, l. 765, Who an thou? I mistrust thee.]--Just as she mistrusted the +Old Man's signs. See above, p. 89. + +P. 52 ff., ll. 774 ff.]--Messenger's Speech. This speech, though swift +and vivid, is less moving and also less sympathetic than most of the +Messengers' Speeches. Less moving, because the slaying of Aegisthus has +little moral interest; it is merely a daring and dangerous exploit. Less +sympathetic, because even here, in the first and comparatively blameless +step of the blood-vengeance, Euripides makes us feel the treacherous side +of it. A [Greek: dolophonia], a "slaying by guile," even at its best, +remains rather an ugly thing. + +P. 53, l. 793, Then quickly spake Orestes.]--If Orestes had washed with +Aegisthus, he would have become his _xenos_, or guest, as much as if he +had eaten his bread and salt. In that case the slaying would have been +definitely a crime, a dishonourable act. Also, Aegisthus would have had +the right to ask his name.--The unsuspiciousness of Aegisthus is partly +natural; it was not thus, alone and unarmed, that he expected Orestes to +stand before him. Partly it seems like a heaven-sent blindness. Even the +omens do not warn him, though no doubt in a moment more they would have +done so. + +P. 56, l. 878, With guile he hath slain.]--So the MSS. The Chorus have +already a faint feeling, quickly suppressed, that there may be another +side to Orestes' action. Most editors alter the text to mean "He hath +slain these guileful ones." + +P. 58, l. 900, It shames me, yet God knows I hunger sore.]--To treat the +dead with respect was one of the special marks of a Greek as opposed to a +barbarian. It is possible that the body of Aegisthus might legitimately +have been refused burial, or even nailed on a cross as Orestes in a moment +of excitement suggests. But to insult him lying dead would be a shock to +all Greek feeling. ("Unholy is the voice of loud thanksgiving over +slaughtered men," _Odyssey_ xxii. 412.) Any excess of this kind, any +violence towards the helpless, was apt to rouse "The sleeping wrath of the +world." There was a Greek proverb, "Even an injured dog has his Erinys"-- +_i.e._, his unseen guardian or avenger. It is interesting, though not +surprising, to hear that men had little love for Electra. The wonderful +speech that follows, though to a conventional Greek perhaps the most +outrageous thing of which she is guilty, shows best the inherent nobility +of her character before years of misery had "killed her soul within." + +P. 59, ll. 928 f., Being in falseness one, &c]--The Greek here is very +obscure and almost certainly corrupt. + +P. 61, l. 964, 'Tis my mother comes.]--The reaction has already begun in +Orestes. In the excitement and danger of killing his enemy he has shown +coolness and courage, but now a work lies before him vastly more horrible, +a little more treacherous, and with no element of daring to redeem it. +Electra, on the other hand, has done nothing yet; she has merely tried, +not very successfully, to revile the dead body, and her hate is +unsatisfied. Besides, one sees all through the play that Aegisthus was a +kind of odious stranger to her; it was the woman, her mother, who came +close to her and whom she really hated. + +P. 63, l. 979, Was it some fiend of Hell?]--The likeness to _Hamlet_ is +obvious. ("The spirit that I have seen May be the Devil." End of Act II.) + +P. 63, l. 983, How shall it be then, the same stealthy blow?...]--He +means, I think, "the same as that with which I have already murdered an +unsuspecting man to-day," but Electra for her own purposes misinterprets +him. + +P. 64, l. 990, God's horsemen, stars without a stain.]--Cf. above, ll. +312, 746. Castor and Polydeuces were sons of Zeus and Leda, brothers of +Helen, and half-brothers of Clytemnestra, whose father was the mortal +Tyndareus. They lived as knights without reproach, and afterwards became +stars and demigods. The story is told that originally Castor was mortal +and Polydeuces immortal; but when Castor was fatally wounded Polydeuces +prayed that he might be allowed to give him half his immortality. The +prayer was granted; and the two live as immortals, yet, in some mysterious +way, knowing the taste of death. Unlike the common sinners and punishers +of the rest of the play, these Heroes find their "glory" in saving men +from peril and suffering, especially at sea, where they appear as the +globes of light, called St. Elmo's fire, upon masts and yards. + +Pp. 64-71, ll. 998 ff.]--Clytemnestra. "And what sort of woman is this +doomed and 'evil' Queen? We know the majestic murderess of Aeschylus, so +strong as to be actually beautiful, so fearless and unrepentant that one +almost feels her to be right. One can imagine also another figure that +would be theatrically effective--a 'sympathetic' sinner, beautiful and +penitent, eager to redeem her sin by self-sacrifice. But Euripides gives +us neither. Perhaps he believed in neither. It is a piteous and most real +character that we have here, in this sad middle-aged woman, whose first +words are an apology; controlling quickly her old fires, anxious to be as +little hated as possible. She would even atone, one feels, if there were +any safe way of atonement; but the consequences of her old actions are +holding her, and she is bound to persist.... In her long speech it is +scarcely to Electra that she is chiefly speaking; it is to the Chorus, +perhaps to her own bondmaids; to any or all of the people whose shrinking +so frets her." (_Independent Review, l.c._) + +P. 65, l. 1011, Cast his child away.]--The Greek fleet assembled for Troy +was held by contrary winds at Aulis, in the Straits of Euboea, and the +whole expedition was in danger of breaking up. The prophets demanded a +human sacrifice, and Agamemnon gave his own daughter, Iphigenîa. He +induced Clytemnestra to send her to him, by the pretext that Achilles had +asked for her in marriage. + +P. 66, l. 1046, Which led me to the men he hated.]--It made Clytemnestra's +crime worse, that her accomplice was the blood-foe. + +Pp. 65-68. As elsewhere in Euripides, these two speeches leave the matter +undecided. He does not attempt to argue the case out. He gives us a flash +of light, as it were, upon Clytemnestra's mind and then upon Electra's. +Each believes what she is saying, and neither understands the whole truth. +It is clear that Clytemnestra, being left for ten years utterly alone, and +having perhaps something of Helen's temperament about her, naturally fell +in love with the Lord of a neighbouring castle; and having once committed +herself, had no way of saving her life except by killing her husband, and +afterwards either killing or keeping strict watch upon Orestes and +Electra. Aegisthus, of course, was deliberately plotting to carry out his +blood-feud and to win a great kingdom. + +P. 72, l. 1156, For the flying heart too fond.]--The text is doubtful, but +this seems to be the literal translation, and the reference to +Clytemnestra is intelligible enough. + +P. 73, l. 1157, The giants' cloud-capped ring.]--The great walls of +Mycenae, built by the Cyclôpes; cf. _Trojan Women_, p. 64, "Where the +towers of the giants shine O'er Argos cloudily." + +P. 75, l. 1201, Back, back in the wind and rain.]--The only explicit moral +judgment of the Chorus; cf. note on l. 878. + +P. 77, l. 1225, I touched with my hand thy sword.]--_i.e._, Electra +dropped her own sword in horror, then in a revulsion of feeling laid her +hand upon Orestes' sword--out of generosity, that he might not bear his +guilt alone. + +P. 78, l. 1241, An Argive ship.]--This may have been the ship of Menelaus, +which was brought to Argos by Castor and Polydeuces, see l. 1278. _Helena_ +1663. The ships labouring in the "Sicilian sea" (p. 82, l. 1347) must have +suggested to the audience the ships of the great expedition against +Sicily, then drawing near to its destruction. The Athenian fleet was +destroyed early in September 413 B.C.: this play was probably produced in +the spring of the same year, at which time the last reinforcements were +being sent out. + +P. 78, l. 1249.]--Marriage of Pylades and Electra. A good example of the +essentially historic nature of Greek tragedy. No one would have invented a +marriage between Electra and Pylades for the purposes of this play. It is +even a little disturbing. But it is here, because it was a fixed fact in +the tradition (cf. _Iphigenia in Tauris_, l. 915 ff.), and could not be +ignored. Doubtless these were people living who claimed descent from +Pylades and Electra. + +P. 79, l. 1253, Scourge thee as a burning wheel.]--At certain feasts a big +wheel soaked in some inflammable resin or tar was set fire to and rolled +down a mountain. + +P. 79, l. 1258, There is a hill in Athens.]--The great fame of the +Areopagus as a tribunal for man-slaying (see Aeschylus' _Eumenides_) +cannot have been due merely to its incorruptibility. Hardly any Athenian +tribunal was corruptible. But the Areopagus in very ancient times seems to +have superseded the early systems of "blood-feud" or "blood-debt" by a +humane and rational system of law, taking account of intention, +provocation, and the varying degrees of guilt. The Erinyes, being the old +Pelasgian avengers of blood, now superseded, have their dwelling in a +cavern underneath the Areopagus. + +P. 80, ll. 1276 ff.]--The graves of Aegisthus and Clytemnestra actually +existed in Argos (Paus. ii. 16, 7). They form, so to speak, the concrete +material fact round which the legend of this play circles (cf. Ridgeway in +_Hellenic Journal_, xxiv. p. xxxix.). + +P. 80, l. 1280.]--Helen. The story here adumbrated is taken from +Stesichorus, and forms the plot of Euripides' play _Helena_ (cf. +Herodotus, ii. 113 ff.). + +P. 80, l, 1295, I also, sons of Tyndareus.]--Observe that Electra claims +the gods as cousins (cf. p. 22, l. 313), addressing them by the name of +their mortal father. The Chorus has called them "sons of Zeus." In the +same spirit she faces the gods, complains, and even argues, while Orestes +never raises his eyes to them. + +P. 80, l. 1300.]--Kêres. The death-spirits that flutter over our heads, as +Homer says, "innumerable, whom no man can fly nor hide from." + +P. 82, l. 1329, Yea, our peace is riven by the strange pain of these that +die.]--Cf. the attitude of Artemis at the end of the _Hippolytus_. +Sometimes Euripides introduces gods whose peace is not riven, but then +they are always hateful. (Cf. Aphrodite in the _Hippolytus_, Dionysus in +the _Bacchae_, Athena in the _Trojan Women_.) + +P. 82, l. 1336, O faithful unto death.]--This is the last word we hear of +Electra, and it is interesting. With all her unlovely qualities it remains +true that she was faithful--faithful to the dead and the absent, and to +what she looked upon as a fearful duty. + + * * * * * + +Additional Note on the presence of the Argive women during the plot +against the King and Queen. (Cf. especially p. 19, l. 272, These women +hear us.)--It would seem to us almost mad to speak so freely before the +women. But one must observe: 1. Stasis, or civil enmity, ran very high in +Greece, and these women were of the party that hated Aegisthus. 2. There +runs all through Euripides a very strong conception of the cohesiveness of +women, their secretiveness, and their faithfulness to one another. Medea, +Iphigenia, and Creusa, for instance, trust their women friends with +secrets involving life and death, and the secrets are kept. On the other +hand, when a man--Xuthus in the _Ion_--tells the Chorus women a secret, +they promptly and with great courage betray him. Aristophanes leaves the +same impression; and so do many incidents in Greek history. Cf. the +murders plotted by the Athenian women (Hdt. v. 87), and both by and +against the Lemnian women (Hdt. vi. 138). The subject is a large one, but +I would observe: 1. Athenian women were kept as a rule very much together, +and apart from men. 2. At the time of the great invasions the women of a +community must often have been of different race from the men; and this +may have started a tradition of behaviour. 3. Members of a subject (or +disaffected) nation have generally this cohesiveness: in Ireland, Poland, +and parts of Turkey the details of a political crime will, it is said, be +known to a whole country side, but not a whisper come to the authorities. + +Of course the mere mechanical fact that the Chorus had to be present on +the stage counts for something. It saved the dramatist trouble to make his +heroine confide in the Chorus. But I do not think Euripides would have +used this situation so often unless it had seemed to him both true to life +and dramatically interesting. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Electra of Euripides, by Euripides + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ELECTRA OF EURIPIDES *** + +***** This file should be named 14322-8.txt or 14322-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/3/2/14322/ + +Produced by Paul Murray, Charles Bidwell and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/14322-8.zip b/old/14322-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1383393 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14322-8.zip diff --git a/old/14322.txt b/old/14322.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..52f8e16 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14322.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4010 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Electra of Euripides, by Euripides + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Electra of Euripides + +Author: Euripides + +Release Date: December 10, 2004 [EBook #14322] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ELECTRA OF EURIPIDES *** + + + + +Produced by Paul Murray, Charles Bidwell and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + + + + + +THE + +ELECTRA + +OF + +EURIPIDES + + +TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH RHYMING VERSE +WITH EXPLANATORY NOTES BY + +GILBERT MURRAY, LL.D., D.LITT. + +REGIUS PROFESSOR OF GREEK IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD + + +FORTY-SECOND THOUSAND + + +LONDON: GEORGE ALLEN & UNWIN LTD +RUSKIN HOUSE, 40 MUSEUM STREET, W.C.1 + + +_First Edition, November_ 1905 +_Reprinted, November_ 1906 + " _February_ 1908 + " _March_ 1910 + " _December_ 1910 + " _February_ 1913 + " _April_ 1914 + " _June_ 1916 + " _November_ 1919 + " _April_ 1921 + " _January_ 1923 + " _May_ 1925 + " _August_ 1927 + " _January_ 1929 + +_(All rights reserved)_ + + +PERFORMED AT +THE COURT THEATRE, LONDON +IN 1907 + +_Printed in Great Britain by +Unwin Brothers Ltd., Woking_ + + + + +Introduction[1] + + +The _Electra_ of Euripides has the distinction of being, perhaps, the best +abused, and, one might add, not the best understood, of ancient tragedies. +"A singular monument of poetical, or rather unpoetical perversity;" "the +very worst of all his pieces;" are, for instance, the phrases applied to +it by Schlegel. Considering that he judged it by the standards of +conventional classicism, he could scarcely have arrived at any different +conclusion. For it is essentially, and perhaps consciously, a protest +against those standards. So, indeed, is the tragedy of _The Trojan Women_; +but on very different lines. The _Electra_ has none of the imaginative +splendour, the vastness, the intense poetry, of that wonderful work. It is +a close-knit, powerful, well-constructed play, as realistic as the tragic +conventions will allow, intellectual and rebellious. Its _psychology_ +reminds one of Browning, or even of Ibsen. + +To a fifth-century Greek all history came in the form of legend; and no +less than three extant tragedies, Aeschylus' _Libation-Bearers_ (456 +B.C.), Euripides' _Electra_ (413 B.C.), and Sophocles' _Electra_ (date +unknown: but perhaps the latest of the three) are based on the particular +piece of legend or history now before us. It narrates how the son and +daughter of the murdered king, Agamemnon, slew, in due course of revenge, +and by Apollo's express command, their guilty mother and her paramour. + +Homer had long since told the story, as he tells so many, simply and +grandly, without moral questioning and without intensity. The atmosphere +is heroic. It is all a blood-feud between chieftains, in which Orestes, +after seven years, succeeds in slaying his foe Aegisthus, who had killed +his father. He probably killed his mother also; but we are not directly +told so. His sister may have helped him, and he may possibly have gone mad +afterwards; but these painful issues are kept determinedly in the shade. + +Somewhat surprisingly, Sophocles, although by his time Electra and +Clytemnestra had become leading figures in the story and the mother-murder +its essential climax, preserves a very similar atmosphere. His tragedy is +enthusiastically praised by Schlegel for "the celestial purity, the fresh +breath of life and youth, that is diffused over so dreadful a subject." +"Everything dark and ominous is avoided. Orestes enjoys the fulness of +health and strength. He is beset neither with doubts nor stings of +conscience." Especially laudable is the "austerity" with which Aegisthus +is driven into the house to receive, according to Schlegel, a specially +ignominious death! + +This combination of matricide and good spirits, however satisfactory to +the determined classicist, will probably strike most intelligent readers +as a little curious, and even, if one may use the word at all in +connection with so powerful a play, undramatic. It becomes intelligible as +soon as we observe that Sophocles was deliberately seeking what he +regarded as an archaic or "Homeric" style (cf. Jebb, Introd. p. xli.); and +this archaism, in its turn, seems to me best explained as a conscious +reaction against Euripides' searching and unconventional treatment of the +same subject (cf. Wilamowitz in _Hermes_, xviii. pp. 214 ff.). In the +result Sophocles is not only more "classical" than Euripides; he is more +primitive by far than Aeschylus. + +For Aeschylus, though steeped in the glory of the world of legend, would +not lightly accept its judgment upon religious and moral questions, and +above all would not, in that region, play at make-believe. He would not +elude the horror of this story by simply not mentioning it, like Homer, or +by pretending that an evil act was a good one, like Sophocles. He faces +the horror; realises it; and tries to surmount it on the sweep of a great +wave of religious emotion. The mother-murder, even if done by a god's +command, is a sin; a sin to be expiated by unfathomable suffering. Yet, +since the god cannot have commanded evil, it is a duty also. It is a sin +that _must_ be committed. + +Euripides, here as often, represents intellectually the thought of +Aeschylus carried a step further. He faced the problem just as Aeschylus +did, and as Sophocles did not. But the solution offered by Aeschylus did +not satisfy him. It cannot, in its actual details, satisfy any one. To him +the mother-murder--like most acts of revenge, but more than most--was a +sin and a horror. Therefore it should not have been committed; and the god +who enjoined it _did_ command evil, as he had done in a hundred other +cases! He is no god of light; he is only a demon of old superstition, +acting, among other influences, upon a sore-beset man, and driving him +towards a miscalled duty, the horror of which, when done, will unseat his +reason. + +But another problem interests Euripides even more than this. What kind of +man was it--above all, what kind of woman can it have been, who would do +this deed of mother-murder, not in sudden fury but deliberately, as an act +of "justice," after many years? A "sympathetic" hero and heroine are out +of the question; and Euripides does not deal in stage villains. He seeks +real people. And few attentive readers of this play can doubt that he has +found them. + +The son is an exile, bred in the desperate hopes and wild schemes of +exile; he is a prince without a kingdom, always dreaming of his wrongs and +his restoration; and driven by the old savage doctrine, which an oracle +has confirmed, of the duty and manliness of revenge. He is, as was shown +by his later history, a man subject to overpowering impulses and to fits +of will-less brooding. Lastly, he is very young, and is swept away by his +sister's intenser nature. + +That sister is the central figure of the tragedy. A woman shattered in +childhood by the shock of an experience too terrible for a girl to bear; a +poisoned and a haunted woman, eating her heart in ceaseless broodings of +hate and love, alike unsatisfied--hate against her mother and stepfather, +love for her dead father and her brother in exile; a woman who has known +luxury and state, and cares much for them; who is intolerant of poverty, +and who feels her youth passing away. And meantime there is her name, on +which all legend, if I am not mistaken, insists; she is _A-lektra_, "the +Unmated." + +There is, perhaps, no woman's character in the range of Greek tragedy so +profoundly studied. Not Aeschylus' Clytemnestra, not Phaedra nor Medea. +One's thoughts can only wander towards two great heroines of "lost" plays, +Althaea in the _Meleager_, and Stheneboea in the _Bellerophon_. + +G.M. + +[Footnote 1: Most of this introduction is reprinted, by the kind +permission of the Editors, from an article in the _Independent Review_ +vol. i. No. 4.] + + + + +ELECTRA + + + + + CHARACTERS IN THE PLAY + + +CLYTEMNESTRA, _Queen of Argos and Mycenae; widow of Agamemnon_. + +ELECTRA, _daughter of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra_. + +ORESTES, _son of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra, now in banishment_. + +A PEASANT, _husband of Electra_. + +AN OLD MAN, _formerly servant to Agamemnon_. + +PYLADES, _son of Strophios, King of Phocis; friend to Orestes_. + +AEGISTHUS, _usurping King of Argos and Mycenae, now husband of +Clytemnestra_. + +The Heroes CASTOR and POLYDEUCES. + +CHORUS of Argive Women, with their LEADER. + +FOLLOWERS of ORESTES; HANDMAIDS of CLYTEMNESTRA. + +_The Scene is laid in the mountains of Argos. The play was first produced +between the years_ 414 _and_ 412 B.C. + + + + + ELECTRA + + +_The scene represents a hut on a desolate mountain side; the river Inachus +is visible in the distance. The time is the dusk of early dawn, before +sunrise. The_ PEASANT _is discovered in front of the hut_. + +PEASANT. + +Old gleam on the face of the world, I give thee hail, +River of Argos land, where sail on sail +The long ships met, a thousand, near and far, +When Agamemnon walked the seas in war; +Who smote King Priam in the dust, and burned +The storied streets of Ilion, and returned +Above all conquerors, heaping tower and fane +Of Argos high with spoils of Eastern slain. + +So in far lands he prospered; and at home +His own wife trapped and slew him. 'Twas the doom +Aegisthus wrought, son of his father's foe. + +Gone is that King, and the old spear laid low +That Tantalus wielded when the world was young. +Aegisthus hath his queen, and reigns among +His people. And the children here alone, +Orestes and Electra, buds unblown +Of man and womanhood, when forth to Troy +He shook his sail and left them--lo, the boy +Orestes, ere Aegisthus' hand could fall, +Was stolen from Argos--borne by one old thrall, +Who served his father's boyhood, over seas +Far off, and laid upon King Strophios' knees +In Phocis, for the old king's sake. But here +The maid Electra waited, year by year, +Alone, till the warm days of womanhood +Drew nigh and suitors came of gentle blood +In Hellas. Then Aegisthus was in fear +Lest she be wed in some great house, and bear +A son to avenge her father. Close he wrought +Her prison in his house, and gave her not +To any wooer. Then, since even this +Was full of peril, and the secret kiss +Of some bold prince might find her yet, and rend +Her prison walls, Aegisthus at the end +Would slay her. Then her mother, she so wild +Aforetime, pled with him and saved her child. +Her heart had still an answer for her lord +Murdered, but if the child's blood spoke, what word +Could meet the hate thereof? After that day +Aegisthus thus decreed: whoso should slay +The old king's wandering son, should win rich meed +Of gold; and for Electra, she must wed +With me, not base of blood--in that I stand +True Mycenaean--but in gold and land +Most poor, which maketh highest birth as naught. +So from a powerless husband shall be wrought +A powerless peril. Had some man of might +Possessed her, he had called perchance to light +Her father's blood, and unknown vengeances +Risen on Aegisthus yet. + Aye, mine she is: +But never yet these arms--the Cyprian knows +My truth!--have clasped her body, and she goes +A virgin still. Myself would hold it shame +To abase this daughter of a royal name. +I am too lowly to love violence. Yea, +Orestes too doth move me, far away, +Mine unknown brother! Will he ever now +Come back and see his sister bowed so low? + +Doth any deem me fool, to hold a fair +Maid in my room and seek no joy, but spare +Her maidenhood? If any such there be, +Let him but look within. The fool is he +In gentle things, weighing the more and less +Of love by his own heart's untenderness. + +[_As he ceases_ ELECTRA _comes out of the hut. She is in mourning garb, +and carries a large pitcher on her head. She speaks without observing the_ +PEASANT'S _presence_. + +ELECTRA. + +Dark shepherdess of many a golden star, +Dost see me, Mother Night? And how this jar +Hath worn my earth-bowed head, as forth and fro +For water to the hillward springs I go? +Not for mere stress of need, but purpose set, +That never day nor night God may forget +Aegisthus' sin: aye, and perchance a cry +Cast forth to the waste shining of the sky +May find my father's ear.... The woman bred +Of Tyndareus, my mother--on her head +Be curses!--from my house hath outcast me; +She hath borne children to our enemy; +She hath made me naught, she hath made Orestes naught.... + +[_As the bitterness of her tone increases, the_ PEASANT _comes forward._ + +PEASANT. + +What wouldst thou now, my sad one, ever fraught +With toil to lighten my toil? And so soft +Thy nurture was! Have I not chid thee oft, +And thou wilt cease not, serving without end? + +ELECTRA (_turning to him with impulsive affection_). + +O friend, my friend, as God might be my friend, +Thou only hast not trampled on my tears. +Life scarce can be so hard, 'mid many fears +And many shames, when mortal heart can find +Somewhere one healing touch, as my sick mind +Finds thee.... And should I wait thy word, to endure +A little for thine easing, yea, or pour +My strength out in thy toiling fellowship? +Thou hast enough with fields and kine to keep; +'Tis mine to make all bright within the door. +'Tis joy to him that toils, when toil is o'er, +To find home waiting, full of happy things. + +PEASANT. + +If so it please thee, go thy way. The springs +Are not far off. And I before the morn +Must drive my team afield, and sow the corn +In the hollows.--Not a thousand prayers can gain +A man's bare bread, save an he work amain. + +[ELECTRA _and the_ PEASANT _depart on their several ways. After a few +moments there enter stealthily two armed men,_ ORESTES _and_ PYLADES. + +ORESTES. + +Thou art the first that I have known in deed +True and my friend, and shelterer of my need. +Thou only, Pylades, of all that knew, +Hast held Orestes of some worth, all through +These years of helplessness, wherein I lie +Downtrodden by the murderer--yea, and by +The murderess, my mother!... I am come, +Fresh from the cleansing of Apollo, home +To Argos--and my coming no man yet +Knoweth--to pay the bloody twain their debt +Of blood. This very night I crept alone +To my dead father's grave, and poured thereon +My heart's first tears and tresses of my head +New-shorn, and o'er the barrow of the dead +Slew a black lamb, unknown of them that reign +In this unhappy land.... I am not fain +To pass the city gates, but hold me here +Hard on the borders. So my road is clear +To fly if men look close and watch my way; +If not, to seek my sister. For men say +She dwelleth in these hills, no more a maid +But wedded. I must find her house, for aid +To guide our work, and learn what hath betid +Of late in Argos.--Ha, the radiant lid +Of Dawn's eye lifteth! Come, friend; leave we now +This trodden path. Some worker of the plough, +Or serving damsel at her early task +Will presently come by, whom we may ask +If here my sister dwells. But soft! Even now +I see some bondmaid there, her death-shorn brow +Bending beneath its freight of well-water. +Lie close until she pass; then question her. +A slave might help us well, or speak some sign +Of import to this work of mine and thine. + +[_The two men retire into ambush._ ELECTRA _enters, returning from the +well._ + +ELECTRA. + + Onward, O labouring tread, + As on move the years; + Onward amid thy tears, + O happier dead! + +Let me remember. I am she, [_Strophe_ 1. +Agamemnon's child, and the mother of me +Clytemnestra, the evil Queen, +Helen's sister. And folk, I ween, +That pass in the streets call yet my name +Electra.... God protect my shame! + For toil, toil is a weary thing, + And life is heavy about my head; + And thou far off, O Father and King, + In the lost lands of the dead. +A bloody twain made these things be; +One was thy bitterest enemy, +And one the wife that lay by thee. + +Brother, brother, on some far shore [_Antistrophe_ 1. +Hast thou a city, is there a door +That knows thy footfall, Wandering One? +Who left me, left me, when all our pain +Was bitter about us, a father slain, +And a girl that wept in her room alone. + Thou couldst break me this bondage sore, + Only thou, who art far away, + Loose our father, and wake once more.... + Zeus, Zeus, dost hear me pray?... +The sleeping blood and the shame and the doom! +O feet that rest not, over the foam +Of distant seas, come home, come home! + +What boots this cruse that I carry? [_Strophe_ 2. + O, set free my brow! +For the gathered tears that tarry + Through the day and the dark till now, +Now in the dawn are free, + Father, and flow beneath +The floor of the world, to be + As a song in she house of Death: +From the rising up of the day +They guide my heart alway, +The silent tears unshed, +And my body mourns for the dead; +My cheeks bleed silently, + And these bruised temples keep +Their pain, remembering thee + And thy bloody sleep. + +Be rent, O hair of mine head! + +As a swan crying alone + Where the river windeth cold, +For a loved, for a silent one, + Whom the toils of the fowler hold, +I cry, Father, to thee, +O slain in misery! + +The water, the wan water, [_Antistrophe_ 2. + Lapped him, and his head +Drooped in the bed of slaughter + Low, as one wearied; +Woe for the edged axe, + And woe for the heart of hate, +Houndlike about thy tracks, + O conqueror desolate, +From Troy over land and sea, +Till a wife stood waiting thee; +Not with crowns did she stand, +Nor flowers of peace in her hand; +With Aegisthus' dagger drawn + For her hire she strove, +Through shame and through blood alone; + And won her a traitor's love. + +[_As she ceases there enter from right and left the_ CHORUS, _consisting +of women of Argos, young and old, in festal dress_. + + + CHORUS. + + _Some Women._ + +Child of the mighty dead, [_Strophe_. + Electra, lo, my way +To thee in the dawn hath sped, + And the cot on the mountain grey, + For the Watcher hath cried this day: +He of the ancient folk, + The walker of waste and hill, +Who drinketh the milk of the flock; + And he told of Hera's will; +For the morrow's morrow now + They cry her festival, +And before her throne shall bow + Our damsels all. + +ELECTRA. + +Not unto joy, nor sweet + Music, nor shining of gold, +The wings of my spirit beat. + Let the brides of Argos hold + Their dance in the night, as of old; +I lead no dance; I mark + No beat as the dancers sway; +With tears I dwell in the dark, + And my thought is of tears alway, + To the going down of the day. +Look on my wasted hair +And raiment.... This that I bear, +Is it meet for the King my sire, + And her whom the King begot? +For Troy, that was burned with fire + And forgetteth not? + + + CHORUS. + + _Other Women._ + +Hera is great!--Ah, come, [_Antistrophe_. + Be kind; and my hand shall bring +Fair raiment, work of the loom, + And many a golden thing, + For joyous robe-wearing. +Deemest thou this thy woe + Shall rise unto God as prayer, +Or bend thine haters low? + Doth God for thy pain have care? +Not tears for the dead nor sighs, + But worship and joy divine +Shall win thee peace in thy skies, + O daughter mine! + +ELECTRA. + +No care cometh to God + For the voice of the helpless; none +For the crying of ancient blood. + Alas for him that is gone, + And for thee, O wandering one: +That now, methinks, in a land + Of the stranger must toil for hire, +And stand where the poor men stand, + A-cold by another's fire, + O son of the mighty sire: +While I in a beggar's cot +On the wrecked hills, changing not, +Starve in my soul for food; + But our mother lieth wed +In another's arms, and blood + Is about her bed. + +LEADER. + +On all of Greece she wrought great jeopardy, +Thy mother's sister, Helen,--and on thee. + +[ORESTES _and_ PYLADES _move out from their concealment_; ORESTES _comes +forward_: PYLADES _beckons to two_ ARMED SERVANTS _and stays with them in +the background_. + +ELECTRA. + +Woe's me! No more of wailing! Women, flee! +Strange armed men beside the dwelling there +Lie ambushed! They are rising from their lair. +Back by the road, all you. I will essay +The house; and may our good feet save us! + +ORESTES (_between_ ELECTRA _and the hut_). + + Stay, +Unhappy woman! Never fear my steel. + +ELECTRA (_in utter panic_). + +O bright Apollo! Mercy! See, I kneel; +Slay me not. + +ORESTES. + + Others I have yet to slay +Less dear than thou. + +ELECTRA. + + Go from me! Wouldst thou lay +Hand on a body that is not for thee? + +ORESTES. + +None is there I would touch more righteously. + +ELECTRA. + +Why lurk'st thou by my house? And why a sword? + +ORESTES. + +Stay. Listen! Thou wilt not gainsay my word. + +ELECTRA. + +There--I am still. Do what thou wilt with me. +Thou art too strong. + +ORESTES. + + A word I bear to thee... +Word of thy brother. + +ELECTRA. + + Oh, friend! More than friend! +Living or dead? + +ORESTES. + + He lives; so let me send +My comfort foremost, ere the rest be heard. + +ELECTRA. + +God love thee for the sweetness of thy word! + +ORESTES. + +God love the twain of us, both thee and me. + +ELECTRA. + +He lives! Poor brother! In what land weareth he +His exile? + +ORESTES. + + Not one region nor one lot +His wasted life hath trod. + +ELECTRA. + + He lacketh not +For bread? + +ORESTES. + + Bread hath he; but a man is weak +In exile. + +ELECTRA. + +What charge laid he on thee? Speak. + +ORESTES. + +To learn if thou still live, and how the storm, +Living, hath struck thee. + +ELECTRA. + + That thou seest; this form +Wasted... + +ORESTES. + + Yea, riven with the fire of woe. +I sigh to look on thee. + +ELECTRA. + + My face; and, lo, +My temples of their ancient glory shorn. + +ORESTES. + +Methinks thy brother haunts thee, being forlorn; +Aye, and perchance thy father, whom they slew... + +ELECTRA. + +What should be nearer to me than those two? + +ORESTES. + +And what to him, thy brother, half so dear +As thou? + +ELECTRA. + His is a distant love, not near +At need. + +ORESTES. + + But why this dwelling place, this life +Of loneliness? + +ELECTRA (_with sudden bitterness_). + + Stranger, I am a wife.... +O better dead! + +ORESTES. + + That seals thy brother's doom! +What Prince of Argos...? + +ELECTRA. + + Not the man to whom +My father thought to give me. + +ORESTES. + + Speak; that I +May tell thy brother all. + +ELECTRA. + + 'Tis there, hard by, +His dwelling, where I live, far from men's eyes. + +ORESTES. + +Some ditcher's cot, or cowherd's, by its guise! + +ELECTRA (_struck with shame for her ingratitude_). + +A poor man; but true-hearted, and to me +God-fearing. + +ORESTES. + + How? What fear of God hath he? + +ELECTRA. + +He hath never held my body to his own. + +ORESTES. + +Hath he some vow to keep? Or is it done +To scorn thee? + +ELECTRA. + + Nay; he only scorns to sin +Against my father's greatness. + +ORESTES. + + But to win +A princess! Doth his heart not leap for pride? + +ELECTRA. + +He honoureth not the hand that gave the bride. + +ORESTES. + +I see. He trembles for Orestes' wrath? + +ELECTRA. + +Aye, that would move him. But beside, he hath +A gentle heart. + +ORESTES. + + Strange! A good man.... I swear +He well shall be requited. + +ELECTRA. + + Whensoe'er +Our wanderer comes again! + +ORESTES. + + Thy mother stays +Unmoved 'mid all thy wrong? + +ELECTRA. + + A lover weighs +More than a child in any woman's heart. + +ORESTES. + +But what end seeks Aegisthus, by such art +Of shame? + +ELECTRA. + + To make mine unborn children low +And weak, even as my husband. + +ORESTES. + + Lest there grow +From thee the avenger? + +ELECTRA. + + Such his purpose is: +For which may I requite him! + +ORESTES. + + And of this +Thy virgin life--Aegisthus knows it? + +ELECTRA. + + Nay, +We speak it not. It cometh not his way. + +ORESTES. + +These women hear us. Are they friends to thee? + +ELECTRA. + +Aye, friends and true. They will keep faithfully +All words of mine and thine. + +ORESTES (_trying her_). + + Thou art well stayed +With friends. And could Orestes give thee aid +In aught, if e'er... + +ELECTRA. + + Shame on thee! Seest thou not? +Is it not time? + +ORESTES (_catching her excitement_). + + How time? And if he sought +To slay, how should he come at his desire? + +ELECTRA. + +By daring, as they dared who slew his sire! + +ORESTES. + +Wouldst thou dare with him, if he came, thou too, +To slay her? + +ELECTRA. + + Yes; with the same axe that slew +My father! + +ORESTES. + + 'Tis thy message? And thy mood +Unchanging? + +ELECTRA. + + Let me shed my mother's blood, +And I die happy. + +ORESTES. + + God!... I would that now +Orestes heard thee here. + +ELECTRA. + + Yet, wottest thou, +Though here I saw him, I should know him not. + +ORESTES. + +Surely. Ye both were children, when they wrought +Your parting. + +ELECTRA. + + One alone in all this land +Would know his face. + +ORESTES. + + The thrall, methinks, whose hand +Stole him from death--or so the story ran? + +ELECTRA. + +He taught my father, too, an old old man +Of other days than these. + +ORESTES. + + Thy father's grave... +He had due rites and tendance? + +ELECTRA. + + What chance gave, +My father had, cast out to rot in the sun. + +ORESTES. + +God, 'tis too much!... To hear of such things done +Even to a stranger, stings a man.... But speak, +Tell of thy life, that I may know, and seek +Thy brother with a tale that must be heard +Howe'er it sicken. If mine eyes be blurred, +Remember, 'tis the fool that feels not. Aye, +Wisdom is full of pity; and thereby +Men pay for too much wisdom with much pain. + +LEADER. + +My heart is moved as this man's. I would fain +Learn all thy tale. Here dwelling on the hills +Little I know of Argos and its ills. + +ELECTRA. + +If I must speak--and at love's call, God knows, +I fear not--I will tell thee all; my woes, +My father's woes, and--O, since thou hast stirred +This storm of speech, thou bear him this my word-- +His woes and shame! Tell of this narrow cloak +In the wind; this grime and reek of toil, that choke +My breathing; this low roof that bows my head +After a king's. This raiment ... thread by thread, +'Tis I must weave it, or go bare--must bring, +Myself, each jar of water from the spring. +No holy day for me, no festival, +No dance upon the green! From all, from all +I am cut off. No portion hath my life +'Mid wives of Argos, being no true wife. +No portion where the maidens throng to praise +Castor--my Castor, whom in ancient days, +Ere he passed from us and men worshipped him, +They named my bridegroom!-- + And she, she!... The grim +Troy spoils gleam round her throne, and by each hand +Queens of the East, my father's prisoners, stand, +A cloud of Orient webs and tangling gold. +And there upon the floor, the blood, the old +Black blood, yet crawls and cankers, like a rot +In the stone! And on our father's chariot +The murderer's foot stands glorying, and the red +False hand uplifts that ancient staff, that led +The armies of the world!... Aye, tell him how +The grave of Agamemnon, even now, +Lacketh the common honour of the dead; +A desert barrow, where no tears are shed, +No tresses hung, no gift, no myrtle spray. +And when the wine is in him, so men say, +Our mother's mighty master leaps thereon, +Spurning the slab, or pelteth stone on stone, +Flouting the lone dead and the twain that live: +"Where is thy son Orestes? Doth he give +Thy tomb good tendance? Or is all forgot?" +So is he scorned because he cometh not.... + +O Stranger, on my knees, I charge thee, tell +This tale, not mine, but of dumb wrongs that swell +Crowding--and I the trumpet of their pain, +This tongue, these arms, this bitter burning brain; +These dead shorn locks, and he for whom they died! +His father slew Troy's thousands in their pride; +He hath but one to kill.... O God, but one! +Is he a man, and Agamemnon's son? + +LEADER. + +But hold: is this thy husband from the plain, +His labour ended, hasting home again? + +_Enter the_ PEASANT. + +PEASANT. + +Ha, who be these? Strange men in arms before +My house! What would they at this lonely door? +Seek they for me?--Strange gallants should not stay +A woman's goings. + +ELECTRA. + + Friend and helper!--Nay, +Think not of any evil. These men be +Friends of Orestes, charged with words for me!... +Strangers, forgive his speech. + +PEASANT. + + What word have they +Of him? At least he lives and sees the day! + +ELECTRA. + +So fares their tale--and sure I doubt it not! + +PEASANT. + +And ye two still are living in his thought, +Thou and his father? + +ELECTRA. + + In his dreams we live. +An exile hath small power. + +PEASANT. + + And did he give +Some privy message? + +ELECTRA. + + None: they come as spies +For news of me. + +PEASANT. + + Thine outward news their eyes +Can see; the rest, methinks, thyself will tell. + +ELECTRA. + +They have seen all, heard all. I trust them well. + +PEASANT. + +Why were our doors not open long ago?-- +Be welcome, strangers both, and pass below +My lintel. In return for your glad words +Be sure all greeting that mine house affords +Is yours.--Ye followers, bear in their gear!-- +Gainsay me not; for his sake are ye dear +That sent you to our house; and though my part +In life be low, I am no churl at heart. + +[_The_ PEASANT _goes to the_ ARMED SERVANTS _at the back, to help them +with the baggage._ + +ORESTES (_aside to_ ELECTRA). + +Is this the man that shields thy maidenhood +Unknown, and will not wrong thy father's blood? + +ELECTRA. + +He is called my husband. 'Tis for him I toil. + +ORESTES. + +How dark lies honour hid! And what turmoil +In all things human: sons of mighty men +Fallen to naught, and from ill seed again +Good fruit: yea, famine in the rich man's scroll +Writ deep, and in poor flesh a lordly soul. +As, lo, this man, not great in Argos, not +With pride of house uplifted, in a lot +Of unmarked life hath shown a prince's grace. + [_To the_ PEASANT, _who has returned._ +All that is here of Agamemnon's race, +And all that lacketh yet, for whom we come, +Do thank thee, and the welcome of thy home +Accept with gladness.--Ho, men; hasten ye +Within!--This open-hearted poverty +Is blither to my sense than feasts of gold. + +Lady, thine husband's welcome makes me bold; +Yet would thou hadst thy brother, before all +Confessed, to greet us in a prince's hall! +Which may be, even yet. Apollo spake +The word; and surely, though small store I make +Of man's divining, God will fail us not. + +[ORESTES _and_ PYLADES _go in, following the_ SERVANTS. + +LEADER. + +O never was the heart of hope so hot +Within me. How? So moveless in time past, +Hath Fortune girded up her loins at last? + +ELECTRA. + +Now know'st thou not thine own ill furniture, +To bid these strangers in, to whom for sure +Our best were hardship, men of gentle breed? + +PEASANT. + +Nay, if the men be gentle, as indeed +I deem them, they will take good cheer or ill +With even kindness. + +ELECTRA. + + 'Twas ill done; but still-- +Go, since so poor thou art, to that old friend +Who reared my father. At the realm's last end +He dwells, where Tanaos river foams between +Argos and Sparta. Long time hath he been +An exile 'mid his flocks. Tell him what thing +Hath chanced on me, and bid him haste and bring +Meat for the strangers' tending.--Glad, I trow, +That old man's heart will be, and many a vow +Will lift to God, to learn the child he stole +From death, yet breathes.--I will not ask a dole +From home; how should my mother help me? Nay, +I pity him that seeks that door, to say +Orestes liveth! + +PEASANT. + + Wilt thou have it so? +I will take word to the old man. But go +Quickly within, and whatso there thou find +Set out for them. A woman, if her mind +So turn, can light on many a pleasant thing +To fill her board. And surely plenishing +We have for this one day.--'Tis in such shifts +As these, I care for riches, to make gifts +To friends, or lead a sick man back to health +With ease and plenty. Else small aid is wealth +For daily gladness; once a man be done +With hunger, rich and poor are all as one. + +[_The_ PEASANT _goes off to the left_; ELECTRA _goes into the house._ + + * * * * * + +CHORUS. + +O for the ships of Troy, the beat [_Strophe_ 1. + Of oars that shimmered +Innumerable, and dancing feet + Of Nereids glimmered; +And dolphins, drunken with the lyre, +Across the dark blue prows, like fire, + Did bound and quiver, +To cleave the way for Thetis' son, +Fleet-in-the-wind Achilles, on +To war, to war, till Troy be won + Beside the reedy river. + +Up from Euboea's caverns came [_Antistrophe_ 1. + The Nereids, bearing +Gold armour from the Lords of Flame, + Wrought for his wearing: +Long sought those daughters of the deep, +Up Pelion's glen, up Ossa's steep + Forest enchanted, +Where Peleus reared alone, afar, +His lost sea-maiden's child, the star +Of Hellas, and swift help of war + When weary armies panted. + +There came a man from Troy, and told [_Strophe_ 2. + Here in the haven, +How, orb on orb, to strike with cold +The Trojan, o'er that targe of gold, + Dread shapes were graven. +All round the level rim thereof +Perseus, on winged feet, above + The long seas hied him; +The Gorgon's wild and bleeding hair +He lifted; and a herald fair, +He of the wilds, whom Maia bare, + God's Hermes, flew beside him. + + [_Antistrophe_ 2. +But midmost, where the boss rose higher, + A sun stood blazing, +And winged steeds, and stars in choir, +Hyad and Pleiad, fire on fire, + For Hector's dazing: +Across the golden helm, each way, +Two taloned Sphinxes held their prey, + Song-drawn to slaughter: +And round the breastplate ramping came +A mingled breed of lion and flame, +Hot-eyed to tear that steed of fame + That found Pirene's water. + +The red red sword with steeds four-yoked [_Epode_. + Black-maned, was graven, +That laboured, and the hot dust smoked + Cloudwise to heaven. +Thou Tyndarid woman! Fair and tall +Those warriors were, and o'er them all + One king great-hearted, +Whom thou and thy false love did slay: +Therefore the tribes of Heaven one day +For these thy dead shall send on thee +An iron death: yea, men shall see +The white throat drawn, and blood's red spray, + And lips in terror parted. + +[_As they cease, there enters from the left a very old man, bearing a +lamb, a wineskin, and a wallet_. + +OLD MAN. + +Where is my little Princess? Ah, not now; +But still my queen, who tended long ago +The lad that was her father.... How steep-set +These last steps to her porch! But faint not yet: +Onward, ye failing knees and back with pain +Bowed, till we look on that dear face again. + [_Enter_ ELECTRA. +Ah, daughter, is it thou?--Lo, here I am, +With gifts from all my store; this suckling lamb +Fresh from the ewe, green crowns for joyfulness, +And creamy things new-curdled from the press. +And this long-stored juice of vintages +Forgotten, cased in fragrance: scant it is, +But passing sweet to mingle nectar-wise +With feebler wine.--Go, bear them in; mine eyes... +Where is my cloak?--They are all blurred with tears. + +ELECTRA. + +What ails thine eyes, old friend? After these years +Doth my low plight still stir thy memories? +Or think'st thou of Orestes, where he lies +In exile, and my father? Aye, long love +Thou gavest him, and seest the fruit thereof +Wasted, for thee and all who love thee! + +OLD MAN. + + All +Wasted! And yet 'tis that lost hope withal +I cannot brook. But now I turned aside +To see my master's grave. All, far and wide, +Was silence; so I bent these knees of mine +And wept and poured drink-offerings from the wine +I bear the strangers, and about the stone +Laid myrtle sprays. And, child, I saw thereon +Just at the censer slain, a fleeced ewe, +Deep black, in sacrifice: the blood was new +About it: and a tress of bright brown hair +Shorn as in mourning, close. Long stood I there +And wondered, of all men what man had gone +In mourning to that grave.--My child, 'tis none +In Argos. Did there come ... Nay, mark me now... +Thy brother in the dark, last night, to bow +His head before that unadored tomb? + O come, and mark the colour of it. Come +And lay thine own hair by that mourner's tress! +A hundred little things make likenesses +In brethren born, and show the father's blood. + +ELECTRA (_trying to mask her excitement and resist the contagion of his_). + +Old heart, old heart, is this a wise man's mood?... +O, not in darkness, not in fear of men, +Shall Argos find him, when he comes again, +Mine own undaunted ... Nay, and if it were, +What likeness could there be? My brother's hair +Is as a prince's and a rover's, strong +With sunlight and with strife: not like the long +Locks that a woman combs.... And many a head +Hath this same semblance, wing for wing, tho' bred +Of blood not ours.... 'Tis hopeless. Peace, old man. + +OLD MAN. + +The footprints! Set thy foot by his, and scan +The track of frame and muscles, how they fit! + +ELECTRA. + +That ground will take no footprint! All of it +Is bitter stone.... It hath?... And who hath said +There should be likeness in a brother's tread +And sister's? His is stronger every way. + +OLD MAN. + +But hast thou nothing...? If he came this day +And sought to show thee, is there no one sign +Whereby to know him?... Stay; the robe was thine, +Work of thy loom, wherein I wrapt him o'er +That night and stole him through the murderers' door. + +ELECTRA. + +Thou knowest, when Orestes was cast out +I was a child.... If I did weave some clout +Of raiment, would he keep the vesture now +He wore in childhood? Should my weaving grow +As his limbs grew?... 'Tis lost long since. No more! +O, either 'twas some stranger passed, and shore +His locks for very ruth before that tomb: +Or, if he found perchance, to seek his home, +Some spy... + +OLD MAN. + +The strangers! Where are they? I fain +Would see them, aye, and bid them answer plain... + +ELECTRA. + +Here at the door! How swift upon the thought! + +_Enter_ ORESTES _and_ PYLADES. + +OLD MAN. + +High-born: albeit for that I trust them not. +The highest oft are false.... Howe'er it be, + +[_Approaching them_. + +I bid the strangers hail! + +ORESTES. + + All hail to thee, +Greybeard!--Prithee, what man of all the King +Trusted of old, is now this broken thing? + +ELECTRA. + +'Tis he that trained my father's boyhood. + +ORESTES. + + How? +And stole from death thy brother? Sayest thou? + +ELECTRA. + +This man was his deliverer, if it be +Deliverance. + +ORESTES. + + How his old eye pierceth me, +As one that testeth silver and alloy! +Sees he some likeness here? + +ELECTRA. + + Perchance 'tis joy, +To see Orestes' comrade, that he feels. + +ORESTES. + +None dearer.--But what ails the man? He reels +Dizzily back. + +ELECTRA. + + I marvel. I can say +No more. + +OLD MAN (_in a broken voice_). + + Electra, mistress, daughter, pray! +Pray unto God! + +ELECTRA. + + Of all the things I crave, +The thousand things, or all that others have, +What should I pray for? + +OLD MAN. + + Pray thine arms may hold +At last this treasure-dream of more than gold +God shows us! + +ELECTRA. + + God, I pray thee!... Wouldst thou more? + +OLD MAN. + +Gaze now upon this man, and bow before +Thy dearest upon earth! + +ELECTRA. + + I gaze on thee! +O, hath time made thee mad? + +OLD MAN. + + Mad, that I see +Thy brother? + +ELECTRA. + + My ... I know not what thou say'st: +I looked not for it... + +OLD MAN. + + I tell thee, here confessed +Standeth Orestes, Agamemnon's son! + +ELECTRA. + +A sign before I trust thee! O, but one! +How dost thou know...? + +OLD MAN. + + There, by his brow, I see +The scar he made, that day he ran with thee +Chasing thy fawn, and fell. + +ELECTRA (_in a dull voice_). + + A scar? 'Tis so. +I see a scar. + +OLD MAN. + + And fearest still to throw +Thine arms round him thou lovest? + +ELECTRA. + + O, no more! +Thy sign hath conquered me.... (_throwing herself into_ ORESTES' _arms_). +At last, at last! +Thy face like light! And do I hold thee fast, +Unhoped for? + +ORESTES. + + Yea, at last! And I hold thee. + +ELECTRA. + +I never knew... + +ORESTES. + + I dreamed not. + +ELECTRA. + + Is it he, +Orestes? + +ORESTES. + + Thy defender, yea, alone +To fight the world! Lo, this day have I thrown +A net, which once unbroken from the sea +Drawn home, shall ... O, and it must surely be! +Else men shall know there is no God, no light +In Heaven, if wrong to the end shall conquer right. + +CHORUS. + + Comest thou, comest thou now, + Chained by the years and slow, + O Day long sought? + A light on the mountains cold + Is lit, yea, a fire burneth, + 'Tis the light of one that turneth + From roamings manifold, + Back out of exile old + To the house that knew him not. + + Some spirit hath turned our way, + Victory visible, + Walking at thy right hand, + Beloved; O lift this day + Thine arms, thy voice, as a spell; + And pray for thy brother, pray, + Threading the perilous land, + That all be well! + +ORESTES. + +Enough; this dear delight is mine at last +Of thine embracing; and the hour comes fast +When we shall stand again as now we stand, +And stint not.--Stay, Old Man: thou, being at hand +At the edge of time, advise me, by what way +Best to requite my father's murderers. Say, +Have I in Argos any still to trust; +Or is the love, once borne me, trod in dust, +Even as my fortunes are? Whom shall I seek? +By day or night? And whither turn, to wreak +My will on them that hate us? Say. + +OLD MAN. + + My son, +In thine adversity, there is not one +Will call thee friend. Nay, that were treasure-trove, +A friend to share, not faltering from love, +Fair days and foul the same. Thy name is gone +Forth to all Argos, as a thing o'erthrown +And dead. Thou hast not left one spark to glow +With hope in one friend's heart! Hear all, and know: +Thou hast God's fortune and thine own right hand, +Naught else, to conquer back thy fatherland. + +ORESTES. + +The deed, the deed! What must we do? + +OLD MAN. + + Strike down +Aegisthus ... and thy mother. + +ORESTES. + + 'Tis the crown +My race is run for. But how find him? + +OLD MAN. + + Not +Within the city walls, however hot +Thy spirit. + +ORESTES. + + Ha! With watchers doth he go +Begirt, and mailed pikemen? + +OLD MAN. + + Even so: +He lives in fear of thee, and night nor day +Hath slumber. + +ORESTES. + + That way blocked!--'Tis thine to say +What next remains. + +OLD MAN. + + I will; and thou give ear. +A thought has found me! + +ORESTES. + + All good thoughts be near, +For thee to speak and me to understand! + +OLD MAN. + +But now I saw Aegisthus, close at hand +As here I journeyed. + +ORESTES. + + That good word shall trace +My path for me! Thou saw'st him? In what place? + +OLD MAN. + +Out on the pastures where his horses stray. + +ORESTES. + +What did he there so far?--A gleam of day +Crosseth our darkness. + +OLD MAN. + + 'Twas a feast, methought, +Of worship to the wild-wood nymphs he wrought. + +ORESTES. + +The watchers of men's birth? Is there a son +New born to him, or doth he pray for one +That cometh? [_Movement of_ ELECTRA. + +OLD MAN. + + More I know not; he had there +A wreathed ox, as for some weighty prayer. + +ORESTES. + +What force was with him? Not his serfs alone? + +OLD MAN. + +No Argive lord was there; none but his own +Household. + +ORESTES. + + Not any that aught know my face, +Or guess? + +OLD MAN. + + Thralls, thralls; who ne'er have seen thy face. + +ORESTES. + +Once I prevail, the thralls will welcome me! + +OLD MAN. + +The slaves' way, that; and no ill thing for thee! + +ORESTES. + +How can I once come near him? + +OLD MAN. + + Walk thy ways +Hard by, where he may see thee, ere he slays +His sacrifice. + +ORESTES. + + How? Is the road so nigh? + +OLD MAN. + +He cannot choose but see thee, passing by, +And bid thee stay to share the beast they kill. + +ORESTES. + +A bitter fellow-feaster, if God will! + +OLD MAN. + +And then ... then swift be heart and brain, to see +God's chances! + +ORESTES. + + Aye. Well hast thou counselled me. +But ... where is she? + +OLD MAN. + + In Argos now, I guess; +But goes to join her husband, ere the press +Of the feast. + +ORESTES. + + Why goeth not my mother straight +Forth at her husband's side? + +OLD MAN. + + She fain will wait +Until the gathered country-folk be gone. + +ORESTES. + +Enough! She knows what eyes are turned upon +Her passings in the land! + +OLD MAN. + + Aye, all men hate +The unholy woman. + +ORESTES. + + How then can I set +My snare for wife and husband in one breath? + +ELECTRA (_coming forward_). + +Hold! It is I must work our mother's death. + +ORESTES. + +If that be done, I think the other deed +Fortune will guide. + +ELECTRA. + + This man must help our need, +One friend alone for both. + +OLD MAN. + + He will, he will! +Speak on. What cunning hast thou found to fill +Thy purpose? + +ELECTRA. + + Get thee forth, Old Man, and quick +Tell Clytemnestra ... tell her I lie sick, +New-mothered of a man-child. + +OLD MAN. + + Thou hast borne +A son! But when? + +ELECTRA. + + Let this be the tenth morn. +Till then a mother stays in sanctity, +Unseen. + +OLD MAN. + + And if I tell her, where shall be +The death in this? + +ELECTRA. + + That word let her but hear, +Straight she will seek me out! + +OLD MAN. + + The queen! What care +Hath she for thee, or pain of thine? + +ELECTRA. + + She will; +And weep my babe's low station! + +OLD MAN. + + Thou hast skill +To know her, child; say on. + +ELECTRA. + + But bring her here, +Here to my hand; the rest will come. + +OLD MAN. + + I swear, +Here at the gate she shall stand palpable! + +ELECTRA. + +The gate: the gate that leads to me and Hell. + +OLD MAN. + +Let me but see it, and I die content. + +ELECTRA. + +First, then, my brother: see his steps be bent... + +OLD MAN. + +Straight yonder, where Aegisthus makes his prayer! + +ELECTRA. + +Then seek my mother's presence, and declare +My news. + +OLD MAN. + + Thy very words, child, as tho' spoke +From thine own lips! + +ELECTRA. + + Brother, thine hour is struck. +Thou standest in the van of war this day. + +ORESTES (_rousing himself_). + +Aye, I am ready.... I will go my way, +If but some man will guide me. + +OLD MAN. + + Here am I, +To speed thee to the end, right thankfully. + +ORESTES (_turning as he goes and raising his hands to heaven_). + +Zeus of my sires, Zeus of the lost battle, + +ELECTRA. + +Have pity; have pity; we have earned it well! + +OLD MAN. + + Pity these twain, of thine own body sprung! + +ELECTRA. + +O Queen o'er Argive altars, Hera high, + +ORESTES. + +Grant us thy strength, if for the right we cry. + +OLD MAN. + + Strength to these twain, to right their father's wrong! + +ELECTRA. + +O Earth, deep Earth, to whom I yearn in vain, + +ORESTES. + +And deeper thou, O father darkly slain, + +OLD MAN. + + Thy children call, who love thee: hearken thou! + +ORESTES. + +Girt with thine own dead armies, wake, O wake! + +ELECTRA. + +With all that died at Ilion for thy sake ... + +OLD MAN. + + And hate earth's dark defilers; help us now! + +ELECTRA. + +Dost hear us yet, O thou in deadly wrong, +Wronged by my mother? + +OLD MAN. + + Child, we stay too long. +He hears; be sure he hears! + +ELECTRA. + + And while he hears, +I speak this word for omen in his ears: +"Aegisthus dies, Aegisthus dies."... Ah me, +My brother, should it strike not him, but thee, +This wrestling with dark death, behold, I too +Am dead that hour. Think of me as one true, +Not one that lives. I have a sword made keen +For this, and shall strike deep. + I will go in +And make all ready. If there come from thee +Good tidings, all my house for ecstasy +Shall cry; and if we hear that thou art dead, +Then comes the other end!--Lo, I have said. + +ORESTES. + +I know all, all. + +ELECTRA. + + Then be a man to-day! + + [ORESTES _and the_ OLD MAN _depart_. + +O Women, let your voices from this fray +Flash me a fiery signal, where I sit, +The sword across my knees, expecting it. +For never, though they kill me, shall they touch +My living limbs!--I know my way thus much. + + [_She goes into the house_. + + * * * * * + +CHORUS. + + When white-haired folk are met [_Strophe_. + In Argos about the fold, + A story lingereth yet, + A voice of the mountains old, + That tells of the Lamb of Gold: + A lamb from a mother mild, + But the gold of it curled and beat; + And Pan, who holdeth the keys of the wild, + Bore it to Atreus' feet: + His wild reed pipes he blew, + And the reeds were filled with peace, + And a joy of singing before him flew, + Over the fiery fleece: + And up on the based rock, + As a herald cries, cried he: + "Gather ye, gather, O Argive folk, + The King's Sign to see, + The sign of the blest of God, + For he that hath this, hath all!" + Therefore the dance of praise they trod + In the Atreid brethren's hall. + + They opened before men's eyes [_Antistrophe_. + That which was hid before, + The chambers of sacrifice, + The dark of the golden door, + And fires on the altar floor. + And bright was every street, + And the voice of the Muses' tree. + The carven lotus, was lifted sweet; + When afar and suddenly, + Strange songs, and a voice that grew: + "Come to your king, ye folk! + Mine, mine, is the Golden Ewe!" + 'Twas dark Thyestes spoke. + For, lo, when the world was still, + With his brother's bride he lay, + And won her to work his will, + And they stole the Lamb away! + Then forth to the folk strode he, + And called them about his fold, + And showed that Sign of the King to be, + The fleece and the horns of gold. + + Then, then, the world was changed; [_Strophe_ 2. + And the Father, where they ranged, + Shook the golden stars and glowing, + And the great Sun stood deranged + In the glory of his going. + + Lo, from that day forth, the East + Bears the sunrise on his breast, + And the flaming Day in heaven + Down the dim ways of the west + Driveth, to be lost at even. + + The wet clouds to Northward beat; + And Lord Ammon's desert seat + Crieth from the South, unslaken, + For the dews that once were sweet, + For the rain that God hath taken. + + 'Tis a children's tale, that old [_Antistrophe_ 2. + Shepherds on far hills have told; + And we reck not of their telling, + Deem not that the Sun of gold + Ever turned his fiery dwelling, + + Or beat backward in the sky, + For the wrongs of man, the cry + Of his ailing tribes assembled, + To do justly, ere they die! + Once, men told the tale, and trembled; + + Fearing God, O Queen: whom thou + Hast forgotten, till thy brow + With old blood is dark and daunted. + And thy brethren, even now, + Walk among the stars, enchanted. + +LEADER. + +Ha, friends, was that a voice? Or some dream sound +Of voices shaketh me, as underground +God's thunder shuddering? Hark, again, and clear! +It swells upon the wind.--Come forth and hear! +Mistress, Electra! + +ELECTRA, _a bare sword in her hand, comes from the house._ + +ELECTRA. + + Friends! Some news is brought? +How hath the battle ended? + +LEADER. + + I know naught. +There seemed a cry as of men massacred! + +ELECTRA. + +I heard it too. Far off, but still I heard. + +LEADER. + +A distant floating voice ... Ah, plainer now! + +ELECTRA. + +Of Argive anguish!--Brother, is it thou? + +LEADER. + +I know not. Many confused voices cry... + +ELECTRA. + +Death, then for me! That answer bids me die. + +LEADER. + +Nay, wait! We know not yet thy fortune. Wait! + +ELECTRA. + +No messenger from him!--Too late, too late! + +LEADER. + +The message yet will come. 'Tis not a thing +So light of compass, to strike down a king. + + _Enter a_ MESSENGER, _running_. + +MESSENGER. + +Victory, Maids of Argos, Victory! +Orestes ... all that love him, list to me!... +Hath conquered! Agamemnon's murderer lies +Dead! O give thanks to God with happy cries! + +ELECTRA. + +Who art thou? I mistrust thee.... 'Tis a plot! + +MESSENGER. + +Thy brother's man. Look well. Dost know me not? + +ELECTRA. + +Friend, friend; my terror made me not to see +Thy visage. Now I know and welcome thee. +How sayst thou? He is dead, verily dead, +My father's murderer...? + +MESSENGER. + + Shall it be said +Once more? I know again and yet again +Thy heart would hear. Aegisthus lieth slain! + +ELECTRA. + +Ye Gods! And thou, O Right, that seest all, +Art come at last?... But speak; how did he fall? +How swooped the wing of death?... I crave to hear. + +MESSENGER. + +Forth of this hut we set our faces clear +To the world, and struck the open chariot road; +Then on toward the pasture lands, where stood +The great Lord of Mycenae. In a set +Garden beside a channelled rivulet, +Culling a myrtle garland for his brow, +He walked: but hailed us as we passed: "How now, +Strangers! Who are ye? Of what city sprung, +And whither bound?" "Thessalians," answered young +Orestes: "to Alpheues journeying, +With gifts to Olympian Zeus." Whereat the king: +"This while, beseech you, tarry, and make full +The feast upon my hearth. We slay a bull +Here to the Nymphs. Set forth at break of day +To-morrow, and 'twill cost you no delay. +But come"--and so he gave his hand, and led +The two men in--"I must not be gainsaid; +Come to the house. Ho, there; set close at hand +Vats of pure water, that the guests may stand +At the altar's verge, where falls the holy spray." +Then quickly spake Orestes: "By the way +We cleansed us in a torrent stream. We need +No purifying here. But if indeed +Strangers may share thy worship, here are we +Ready, O King, and swift to follow thee." + +So spoke they in the midst. And every thrall +Laid down the spears they served the King withal, +And hied him to the work. Some bore amain +The death-vat, some the corbs of hallowed grain; +Or kindled fire, and round the fire and in +Set cauldrons foaming; and a festal din +Filled all the place. Then took thy mother's lord +The ritual grains, and o'er the altar poured +Its due, and prayed: "O Nymphs of Rock and Mere, +With many a sacrifice for many a year, +May I and she who waits at home for me, +My Tyndarid Queen, adore you. May it be +Peace with us always, even as now; and all +Ill to mine enemies"--meaning withal +Thee and Orestes. Then my master prayed +Against that prayer, but silently, and said +No word, to win once more his fatherland. +Then in the corb Aegisthus set his hand, +Took the straight blade, cut from the proud bull's head +A lock, and laid it where the fire was red; +Then, while the young men held the bull on high, +Slew it with one clean gash; and suddenly +Turned on thy brother: "Stranger, every true +Thessalian, so the story goes, can hew +A bull's limbs clean, and tame a mountain steed. +Take up the steel, and show us if indeed +Rumour speak true," Right swift Orestes took +The Dorian blade, back from his shoulders shook +His brooched mantle, called on Pylades +To aid him, and waved back the thralls. With ease +Heelwise he held the bull, and with one glide +Bared the white limb; then stripped the mighty hide +From off him, swifter than a runner runs +His furlongs, and laid clean the flank. At once +Aegisthus stooped, and lifted up with care +The ominous parts, and gazed. No lobe was there; +But lo, strange caves of gall, and, darkly raised, +The portal vein boded to him that gazed +Fell visitations. Dark as night his brow +Clouded. Then spake Orestes: "Why art thou +Cast down so sudden?" "Guest," he cried, "there be +Treasons from whence I know not, seeking me. +Of all my foes, 'tis Agamemnon's son; +His hate is on my house, like war." "Have done!" +Orestes cried: "thou fear'st an exile's plot, +Lord of a city? Make thy cold heart hot +With meat.--Ho, fling me a Thessalian steel! +This Dorian is too light. I will unseal +The breast of him." He took the heavier blade, +And clave the bone. And there Aegisthus stayed, +The omens in his hand, dividing slow +This sign from that; till, while his head bent low, +Up with a leap thy brother flashed the sword, +Then down upon his neck, and cleft the cord +Of brain and spine. Shuddering the body stood +One instant in an agony of blood, +And gasped and fell. The henchmen saw, and straight +Flew to their spears, a host of them to set +Against those twain. But there the twain did stand +Unfaltering, each his iron in his hand, +Edge fronting edge. Till "Hold," Orestes calls: +"I come not as in wrath against these walls +And mine own people. One man righteously +I have slain, who slew my father. It is I, +The wronged Orestes! Hold, and smite me not, +Old housefolk of my father!" When they caught +That name, their lances fell. And one old man, +An ancient in the house, drew nigh to scan +His face, and knew him. Then with one accord +They crowned thy brother's temples, and outpoured +joy and loud songs. And hither now he fares +To show the head, no Gorgon, that he bears, +But that Aegisthus whom thou hatest! Yea, +Blood against blood, his debt is paid this day. + +[_He goes off to meet the others_--ELECTRA _stands as though stupefied_. + +CHORUS. + + Now, now thou shalt dance in our dances, + Beloved, as a fawn in the night! + The wind is astir for the glances + Of thy feet; thou art robed with delight. + + He hath conquered, he cometh to free us + With garlands new-won, + More high than the crowns of Alpheues, + Thine own father's son: + Cry, cry, for the day that is won! + + +ELECTRA. + +O Light of the Sun, O chariot wheels of flame, +O Earth and Night, dead Night without a name +That held me! Now mine eyes are raised to see, +And all the doorways of my soul flung free. +Aegisthus dead! My father's murderer dead! + What have I still of wreathing for the head +Stored in my chambers? Let it come forth now +To bind my brother's and my conqueror's brow. + +[_Some garlands are brought out from the house to_ ELECTRA. + +CHORUS. + +Go, gather thy garlands, and lay them + As a crown on his brow, many-tressed, +But our feet shall refrain not nor stay them: + 'Tis the joy that the Muses have blest. +For our king is returned as from prison, + The old king, to be master again, +Our beloved in justice re-risen: + With guile he hath slain... + But cry, cry in joyance again! + +[_There enter from the left_ ORESTES _and_ PYLADES, _followed by some +thralls_. + +ELECTRA. + +O conqueror, come! The king that trampled Troy +Knoweth his son Orestes. Come in joy, +Brother, and take to bind thy rippling hair +My crowns!.... O what are crowns, that runners wear +For some vain race? But thou in battle true +Hast felled our foe Aegisthus, him that slew +By craft thy sire and mine. [_She crowns_ ORESTES. + And thou no less, +O friend at need, O reared in righteousness, +Take, Pylades, this chaplet from my hand. +'Twas half thy battle. And may ye two stand +Thus alway, victory-crowned, before my face! [_She crowns_ PYLADES. + +ORESTES. + +Electra, first as workers of this grace +Praise thou the Gods, and after, if thou will, +Praise also me, as chosen to fulfil +God's work and Fate's.--Aye, 'tis no more a dream; +In very deed I come from slaying him. +Thou hast the knowledge clear, but lo, I bring +More also. See himself, dead! + [_Attendants bring in the body of_ AEGISTHUS _on a bier_. + Wouldst thou fling +This lord on the rotting earth for beasts to tear? +Or up, where all the vultures of the air +May glut them, pierce and nail him for a sign +Far off? Work all thy will. Now he is thine. + +ELECTRA. + +It shames me; yet, God knows, I hunger sore-- + +ORESTES. + +What wouldst thou? Speak; the old fear nevermore +Need touch thee. + +ELECTRA. + + To let loose upon the dead +My hate! Perchance to rouse on mine own head +The sleeping hate of the world? + +ORESTES. + + No man that lives +Shall scathe thee by one word. + +ELECTRA. + + Our city gives +Quick blame; and little love have men for me. + +ORESTES. + +If aught thou hast unsaid, sister, be free +And speak. Between this man and us no bar +Cometh nor stint, but the utter rage of war. + [_She goes and stands over the body. A moment's silence_. + +ELECTRA. + + Ah me, what have I? What first flood of hate +To loose upon thee? What last curse to sate +My pain, or river of wild words to flow +Bank-high between?... Nothing?... And yet I know +There hath not passed one sun, but through the long +Cold dawns, over and over, like a song, +I have said them--words held back, O, some day yet +To flash into thy face, would but the fret +Of ancient fear fall loose and let me free. +And free I am, now; and can pay to thee +At last the weary debt. + Oh, thou didst kill +My soul within. Who wrought thee any ill, +That thou shouldst make me fatherless? Aye, me +And this my brother, loveless, solitary? +'Twas thou, didst bend my mother to her shame: +Thy weak hand murdered him who led to fame +The hosts of Hellas--thou, that never crossed +O'erseas to Troy!... God help thee, wast thou lost +In blindness, long ago, dreaming, some-wise, +She would be true with thee, whose sin and lies +Thyself had tasted in my father's place? +And then, that thou wert happy, when thy days +Were all one pain? Thou knewest ceaselessly +Her kiss a thing unclean, and she knew thee +A lord so little true, so dearly won! +So lost ye both, being in falseness one, +What fortune else had granted; she thy curse, +Who marred thee as she loved thee, and thou hers... +And on thy ways thou heardst men whispering, +"Lo, the Queen's husband yonder"--not "the King." + And then the lie of lies that dimmed thy brow, +Vaunting that by thy gold, thy chattels, Thou +Wert Something; which themselves are nothingness. +Shadows, to clasp a moment ere they cease. +The thing thou art, and not the things thou hast, +Abideth, yea, and bindeth to the last +Thy burden on thee: while all else, ill-won +And sin-companioned, like a flower o'erblown, +Flies on the wind away. + Or didst them find +In women ... Women?... Nay, peace, peace! The blind +Could read thee. Cruel wast thou in thine hour, +Lord of a great king's house, and like a tower +Firm in thy beauty. [_Starting back with a look of loathing_. + Ah, that girl-like face! +God grant, not that, not that, but some plain grace +Of manhood to the man who brings me love: +A father of straight children, that shall move +Swift on the wings of War. + + So, get thee gone! +Naught knowing how the great years, rolling on, +Have laid thee bare, and thy long debt full paid. + O vaunt not, if one step be proudly made +In evil, that all Justice is o'ercast: +Vaunt not, ye men of sin, ere at the last +The thin-drawn marge before you glimmereth +Close, and the goal that wheels 'twixt life and death. + +LEADER. + +Justice is mighty. Passing dark hath been +His sin: and dark the payment of his sin. + +ELECTRA (_with a weary sigh, turning from the body_). + +Ah me! Go some of you, bear him from sight, +That when my mother come, her eyes may light +On nothing, nothing, till she know the sword.... + [_The body is borne into the hut_. PYLADES _goes with it_. + +ORESTES (_looking along the road_). + +Stay, 'tis a new thing! We have still a word +To speak... + +ELECTRA. + + What? Not a rescue from the town +Thou seest? + +ORESTES. + + 'Tis my mother comes: my own +Mother, that bare me. [_He takes off his crown_. + +ELECTRA (_springing, as it were, to life again, and moving where she can +see the road_). + + Straight into the snare! +Aye, there she cometh,--Welcome in thy rare +Chariot! All welcome in thy brave array! + +ORESTES. + +What would we with our mother? Didst thou say +Kill her? + +ELECTRA (_turning on him_). + + What? Is it pity? Dost thou fear +To see thy mother's shape? + +ORESTES. + + 'Twas she that bare +My body into life. She gave me suck. +How can I strike her? + +ELECTRA. + + Strike her as she struck +Our father! + +ORESTES (_to himself, brooding_). + + Phoebus, God, was all thy mind +Turned unto darkness? + +ELECTRA. + + If thy God be blind, +Shalt thou have light? + +ORESTES (_as before_). + + Thou, thou, didst bid me kill +My mother: which is sin. + +ELECTRA. + + How brings it ill +To thee, to raise our father from the dust? + +ORESTES. + +I was a clean man once. Shall I be thrust +From men's sight, blotted with her blood? + +ELECTRA. + + Thy blot +Is black as death if him thou succour not! + +ORESTES. + +Who shall do judgment on me, when she dies? + +ELECTRA. + +Who shall do judgment, if thy father lies. +Forgotten? + +ORESTES (_turning suddenly to_ ELECTRA). + + Stay! How if some fiend of Hell, +Hid in God's likeness, spake that oracle? + +ELECTRA. + +In God's own house? I trow not. + +ORESTES. + + And I trow +It was an evil charge! [_He moves away from her._ + +ELECTRA (_almost despairing_). + + To fail me now! +To fail me now! A coward!--O brother, no! + +ORESTES. + +What shall it be, then? The same stealthy blow ... + +ELECTRA. + +That slew our father! Courage! thou hast slain +Aegisthus. + +ORESTES. + + Aye. So be it.--I have ta'en +A path of many terrors: and shall do +Deeds horrible. 'Tis God will have it so.... +Is this the joy of battle, or wild woe? [_He goes into the house._ + +LEADER. + +O Queen o'er Argos throned high, + O Woman, sister of the twain, + God's Horsemen, stars without a stain, +Whose home is in the deathless sky, + Whose glory in the sea's wild pain, +Toiling to succour men that die: +Long years above us hast thou been, + God-like for gold and marvelled power: + Ah, well may mortal eyes this hour +Observe thy state: All hail, O Queen! + +_Enter from the right_ CLYTEMNESTRA _on a chariot, accompanied by richly +dressed Handmaidens_. + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + +Down from the wain, ye dames of Troy, and hold +Mine arm as I dismount.... [_Answering_ ELECTRA'S _thought_. + The spoils and gold +Of Ilion I have sent out of my hall +To many shrines. These bondwomen are all +I keep in mine own house.... Deemst thou the cost +Too rich to pay me for the child I lost-- +Fair though they be? + +ELECTRA. + + Nay, Mother, here am I +Bond likewise, yea, and homeless, to hold high +Thy royal arm! + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + + Child, the war slaves are here; +Thou needst not toil. + +ELECTRA. + + What was it but the spear +Of war, drove me forth too? Mine enemies +Have sacked my father's house, and, even as these, +Captives and fatherless, made me their prey. + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + +It was thy father cast his child away, +A child he might have loved!... Shall I speak out? +(_Controlling herself_) Nay; when a woman once is caught about +With evil fame, there riseth in her tongue +A bitter spirit--wrong, I know! Yet, wrong +Or right, I charge ye look on the deeds done; +And if ye needs must hate, when all is known, +Hate on! What profits loathing ere ye know? + My father gave me to be his. 'Tis so. +But was it his to kill me, or to kill +The babes I bore? Yet, lo, he tricked my will +With fables of Achilles' love: he bore +To Aulis and the dark ship-clutching shore, +He held above the altar-flame, and smote, +Cool as one reaping, through the strained throat, +My white Iphigenia.... Had it been +To save some falling city, leaguered in +With foemen; to prop up our castle towers, +And rescue other children that were ours, +Giving one life for many, by God's laws +I had forgiven all! Not so. Because +Helen was wanton, and her master knew +No curb for her: for that, for that, he slew +My daughter!--Even then, with all my wrong, +No wild beast yet was in me. Nay, for long, +I never would have killed him. But he came, +At last, bringing that damsel, with the flame +Of God about her, mad and knowing all: +And set her in my room; and in one wall +Would hold two queens!--O wild are woman's eyes +And hot her heart. I say not otherwise. +But, being thus wild, if then her master stray +To love far off, and cast his own away, +Shall not her will break prison too, and wend +Somewhere to win some other for a friend? +And then on us the world's curse waxes strong +In righteousness! The lords of all the wrong +Must hear no curse!--I slew him. I trod then +The only road: which led me to the men +He hated. Of the friends of Argos whom +Durst I have sought, to aid me to the doom +I craved?--Speak if thou wouldst, and fear not me, +If yet thou deemst him slain unrighteously. + +LEADER. + +Thy words be just, yet shame their justice brings; +A woman true of heart should bear all things +From him she loves. And she who feels it not, +I cannot reason of her, nor speak aught. + +ELECTRA. + +Remember, mother, thy last word of grace, +Bidding me speak, and fear not, to thy face. + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + +So said I truly, child, and so say still. + +ELECTRA. + +Wilt softly hear, and after work me ill? + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + +Not so, not so. I will but pleasure thee. + +ELECTRA. + +I answer then. And, mother, this shall be +My prayer of opening, where hangs the whole: +Would God that He had made thee clean of soul! +Helen and thou--O, face and form were fair, +Meet for men's praise; but sisters twain ye were, +Both things of naught, a stain on Castor's star, +And Helen slew her honour, borne afar +In wilful ravishment: but thou didst slay +The highest man of the world. And now wilt say +'Twas wrought in justice for thy child laid low +At Aulis?... Ah, who knows thee as I know? +Thou, thou, who long ere aught of ill was done +Thy child, when Agamemnon scarce was gone, +Sate at the looking-glass, and tress by tress +Didst comb the twined gold in loneliness. +When any wife, her lord being far away. +Toils to be fair, O blot her out that day +As false within! What would she with a cheek +So bright in strange men's eyes, unless she seek +Some treason? None but I, thy child, could so +Watch thee in Hellas: none but I could know +Thy face of gladness when our enemies +Were strong, and the swift cloud upon thine eyes +If Troy seemed falling, all thy soul keen-set +Praying that he might come no more!... And yet +It was so easy to be true. A king +Was thine, not feebler, not in anything +Below Aegisthus; one whom Hellas chose +For chief beyond all kings. Aye, and God knows, +How sweet a name in Greece, after the sin +Thy sister wrought, lay in thy ways to win. +Ill deeds make fair ones shine, and turn thereto +Men's eyes.--Enough: but say he wronged thee; slew +By craft thy child:--what wrong had I done, what +The babe Orestes? Why didst render not +Back unto us, the children of the dead, +Our father's portion? Must thou heap thy bed +With gold of murdered men, to buy to thee +Thy strange man's arms? Justice! Why is not he +Who cast Orestes out, cast out again? +Not slain for me whom doubly he hath slain, +In living death, more bitter than of old +My sister's? Nay, when all the tale is told +Of blood for blood, what murder shall we make, +I and Orestes, for our father's sake? + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + +Aye, child; I know thy heart, from long ago. +Thou hast alway loved him best. 'Tis oft-time so: +One is her father's daughter, and one hot +To bear her mother's part. I blame thee not.... +Yet think not I am happy, child; nor flown +With pride now, in the deeds my hand hath done.... + [_Seeing_ ELECTRA _unsympathetic, she checks herself_. + But thou art all untended, comfortless +Of body and wild of raiment; and thy stress +Of travail scarce yet ended!... Woe is me! +'Tis all as I have willed it. Bitterly +I wrought against him, to the last blind deep +Of bitterness.... Woe's me! + +ELECTRA. + + Fair days to weep, +When help is not! Or stay: though he lie cold +Long since, there lives another of thy fold +Far off; there might be pity for thy son? + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + +I dare not!... Yes, I fear him. 'Tis mine own +Life, and not his, comes first. And rumour saith +His heart yet burneth for his father's death. + +ELECTRA. + +Why dost thou keep thine husband ever hot +Against me? + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + + 'Tis his mood. And thou art not +So gentle, child! + +ELECTRA. + + My spirit is too sore! +Howbeit, from this day I will no more +Hate him. + +CLYTEMNESTRA (_with a flash of hope_). + + O daughter!--Then, indeed, shall he, +I promise, never more be harsh to thee! + +ELECTRA. + +He lieth in my house, as 'twere his own. +'Tis that hath made him proud. + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + + Nay, art thou flown +To strife again so quick, child? + +ELECTRA. + + Well; I say +No more; long have I feared him, and alway +Shall fear him, even as now! + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + + Nay, daughter, peace! +It bringeth little profit, speech like this... +Why didst thou call me hither? + +ELECTRA. + + It reached thee, +My word that a man-child is born to me? +Do thou make offering for me--for the rite +I know not--as is meet on the tenth night. +I cannot; I have borne no child till now. + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + +Who tended thee? 'Tis she should make the vow. + +ELECTRA. + +None tended me. Alone I bare my child. + +CLYTEMNESTRA + +What, is thy cot so friendless? And this wild +So far from aid? + +ELECTRA. + + Who seeks for friendship sake +A beggar's house? + +CLYTEMNESTRA. + + I will go in, and make +Due worship for thy child, the Peace-bringer. +To all thy need I would be minister. +Then to my lord, where by the meadow side +He prays the woodland nymphs. + Ye handmaids, guide +My chariot to the stall, and when ye guess +The rite draws near its end, in readiness +Be here again. Then to my lord!... I owe +My lord this gladness, too. + +[_The Attendants depart;_ CLYTEMNESTRA, _left alone, proceeds to enter the +house_. + +ELECTRA. + + Welcome below +My narrow roof! But have a care withal, +A grime of smoke lies deep upon the wall. +Soil not thy robe!... + Not far now shall it be, +The sacrifice God asks of me and thee. +The bread of Death is broken, and the knife +Lifted again that drank the Wild Bull's life: +And on his breast.... Ha, Mother, hast slept well +Aforetime? Thou shalt lie with him in Hell. +That grace I give to cheer thee on thy road; +Give thou to me--peace from my father's blood! + [_She follows her mother into the house_. + +CHORUS. + + Lo, the returns of wrong. + The wind as a changed thing + Whispereth overhead + Of one that of old lay dead + In the water lapping long: + My King, O my King! + + A cry in the rafters then + Rang, and the marble dome: + "Mercy of God, not thou, + "Woman! To slay me now, + "After the harvests ten + "Now, at the last, come home!" + + O Fate shall turn as the tide, + Turn, with a doom of tears + For the flying heart too fond; + A doom for the broken bond. + She hailed him there in his pride, + Home from the perilous years, + + In the heart of his walled lands, + In the Giants' cloud-capt ring; + Herself, none other, laid + The hone to the axe's blade; + She lifted it in her hands, + The woman, and slew her king. + + Woe upon spouse and spouse, + Whatso of evil sway + Held her in that distress! + Even as a lioness + Breaketh the woodland boughs + Starving, she wrought her way. + +VOICE OF CLYTEMNESTRA. + +O Children, Children; in the name of God, +Slay not your mother! + +A WOMAN. + + Did ye hear a cry +Under the rafters? + +ANOTHER. + + I weep too, yea, I; +Down on the mother's heart the child hath trod! + [_A death-cry from within_. + +ANOTHER. + +God bringeth Justice in his own slow tide. + Aye, cruel is thy doom; but thy deeds done + Evil, thou piteous woman, and on one + Whose sleep was by thy side! + +[_The door bursts open, and_ ORESTES _and_ ELECTRA _come forth in +disorder. Attendants bring out the bodies of_ CLYTEMNESTRA _and_ +AEGISTHUS. + +LEADER. + +Lo, yonder, in their mother's new-spilt gore +Red-garmented and ghastly, from the door +They reel.... O horrible! Was it agony +Like this, she boded in her last wild cry? +There lives no seed of man calamitous, +Nor hath lived, like this seed of Tantalus. + +ORESTES. + +O Dark of the Earth, O God, + Thou to whom all is plain; +Look on my sin, my blood, + This horror of dead things twain; +Gathered as one they lie +Slain; and the slayer was I, + I, to pay for my pain! + +ELECTRA. + +Let tear rain upon tear, + Brother: but mine is the blame. +A fire stood over her, + And out of the fire I came, +I, in my misery.... +And I was the child at her knee. + 'Mother' I named her name. + +CHORUS. + +Alas for Fate, for the Fate of thee, +O Mother, Mother of Misery: +And Misery, lo, hath turned again, +To slay thee, Misery and more, +Even in the fruit thy body bore. +Yet hast thou Justice, Justice plain, + For a sire's blood spilt of yore! + +ORESTES. + +Apollo, alas for the hymn + Thou sangest, as hope in mine ear! +The Song was of Justice dim, + But the Deed is anguish clear; +And the Gift, long nights of fear, + Of blood and of wandering, + Where cometh no Greek thing, +Nor sight, nor sound on the air. +Yea, and beyond, beyond, + Roaming--what rest is there? +Who shall break bread with me? +Who, that is clean, shall see +And hate not the blood-red hand, + His mother's murderer? + +ELECTRA. + +And I? What clime shall hold + My evil, or roof it above? +I cried for dancing of old, + I cried in my heart for love: +What dancing waiteth me now? +What love that shall kiss my brow + Nor blench at the brand thereof? + +CHORUS. + +Back, back, in the wind and rain +Thy driven spirit wheeleth again. +Now is thine heart made clean within +That was dark of old and murder-fraught. +But, lo, thy brother; what hast thou wrought.... +Yea, though I love thee.... what woe, what sin, + On him, who willed it not! + + +ORESTES. + +Saw'st thou her raiment there, + Sister, there in the blood? + She drew it back as she stood, +She opened her bosom bare, + She bent her knees to the earth, + The knees that bent in my birth.... +And I ... Oh, her hair, her hair.... + [_He breaks into inarticulate weeping_ + +CHORUS. + +Oh, thou didst walk in agony, +Hearing thy mother's cry, the cry +Of wordless wailing, well know I. + +ELECTRA. + +She stretched her hand to my cheek, + And there brake from her lips a moan; + 'Mercy, my child, my own!' +Her hand clung to my cheek; +Clung, and my arm was weak; + And the sword fell and was gone. + +CHORUS. + +Unhappy woman, could thine eye +Look on the blood, and see her lie, +Thy mother, where she turned to die? + +ORESTES. + +I lifted over mine eyes + My mantle: blinded I smote, +As one smiteth a sacrifice; + And the sword found her throat. + +ELECTRA. + +I gave thee the sign and the word; +I touched with mine hand thy sword. + +LEADER. + +Dire is the grief ye have wrought. + +ORESTES. + +Sister, touch her again: + Oh, veil the body of her; + Shed on her raiment fair, +And close that death-red stain. + --Mother! And didst thou bear, +Bear in thy bitter pain, + To life, thy murderer? + +[_The two kneel over the body of_ CLYTEMNESTRA, _and cover her with +raiment_. + +ELECTRA. + +On her that I loved of yore, + Robe upon robe I cast: +On her that I hated sore. + +CHORUS. + +O House that hath hated sore, + Behold thy peace at the last! + + * * * * * + +LEADER. + +Ha, see: above the roof-tree high + There shineth ... Is some spirit there + Of earth or heaven? That thin air +Was never trod by things that die! + What bodes it now that forth they fare, +To men revealed visibly? + +[_There appears in the air a vision of_ CASTOR _and_ POLYDEUCES. _The +mortals kneel or veil their faces._ + +CASTOR. + +Thou Agamemnon's Son, give ear! 'Tis we. +Castor and Polydeuces, call to thee, +God's Horsemen and thy mother's brethren twain. +An Argive ship, spent with the toiling main, +We bore but now to peace, and, here withal +Being come, have seen thy mother's bloody fall, +Our sister's. Righteous is her doom this day, +But not thy deed. And Phoebus, Phoebus ... Nay; +He is my lord; therefore I hold my peace. +Yet though in light he dwell, no light was this +He showed to thee, but darkness! Which do thou +Endure, as man must, chafing not. And now +Fare forth where Zeus and Fate have laid thy life. + The maid Electra thou shalt give for wife +To Pylades; then turn thy head and flee +From Argos' land. 'Tis never more for thee +To tread this earth where thy dead mother lies. +And, lo, in the air her Spirits, bloodhound eyes, +Most horrible yet Godlike, hard at heel +Following shall scourge thee as a burning wheel, +Speed-maddened. Seek thou straight Athena's land, +And round her awful image clasp thine hand, +Praying: and she will fence them back, though hot +With flickering serpents, that they touch thee not, +Holding above thy brow her gorgon shield. + There is a hill in Athens, Ares' field, +Where first for that first death by Ares done +On Halirrhothius, Poseidon's son, +Who wronged his daughter, the great Gods of yore +Held judgment: and true judgments evermore +Flow from that Hill, trusted of man and God. +There shalt thou stand arraigned of this blood; +And of those judges half shall lay on thee +Death, and half pardon; so shalt thou go free. +For Phoebus in that hour, who bade thee shed +Thy mother's blood, shall take on his own head +The stain thereof. And ever from that strife +The law shall hold, that when, for death or life +Of one pursued, men's voices equal stand, +Then Mercy conquereth.--But for thee, the band +Of Spirits dread, down, down, in very wrath, +Shall sink beside that Hill, making their path +Through a dim chasm, the which shall aye be trod +By reverent feet, where men may speak with God. +But thou forgotten and far off shalt dwell, +By great Alpheues' waters, in a dell +Of Arcady, where that gray Wolf-God's wall +Stands holy. And thy dwelling men shall call +Orestes Town. So much to thee be spoke. +But this dead man, Aegisthus, all the folk +Shall bear to burial in a high green grave +Of Argos. For thy mother, she shall have +Her tomb from Menelaus, who hath come +This day, at last, to Argos, bearing home +Helen. From Egypt comes she, and the hall +Of Proteus, and in Troy hath ne'er at all +Set foot. 'Twas but a wraith of Helen, sent +By Zeus, to make much wrath and ravishment. + So forth for home, bearing the virgin bride, +Let Pylades make speed, and lead beside +Thy once-named brother, and with golden store +Stablish his house far off on Phocis' shore. + Up, gird thee now to the steep Isthmian way, +Seeking Athena's blessed rock; one day, +Thy doom of blood fulfilled and this long stress +Of penance past, thou shalt have happiness. + + + LEADER (_looking up_). + + Is it for us, O Seed of Zeus, + To speak and hear your words again! +CASTOR. Speak: of this blood ye bear no stain. +ELECTRA. I also, sons of Tyndareus, + + My kinsmen; may my word be said? +CASTOR. Speak: on Apollo's head we lay + The bloody doings of this day. +LEADER. Ye Gods, ye brethren of the dead, + + Why held ye not the deathly herd + Of Keres back from off this home? +CASTOR. There came but that which needs must come + By ancient Fate and that dark word + + That rang from Phoebus in his mood. +ELECTRA. And what should Phoebus seek with me, + Or all God's oracles that be, + That I must bear my mother's blood? + +CASTOR. Thy hand was as thy brother's hand, + Thy doom shall be as his. One stain, + From dim forefathers on the twain + Lighting, hath sapped your hearts as sand. + +ORESTES (_who has never raised his head, nor spoken to the Gods_). + + After so long, sister, to see + And hold thee, and then part, then part, + By all that chained thee to my heart + Forsaken, and forsaking thee! + +CASTOR. Husband and house are hers. She bears + No bitter judgment, save to go + Exiled from Argos. +ELECTRA. And what woe, + What tears are like an exile's tears? + +ORESTES. Exiled and more am I; impure, + A murderer in a stranger's hand: +CASTOR. Fear not. There dwells in Pallas' land + All holiness. Till then endure! + [ORESTES _and_ ELECTRA _embrace_ + +ORESTES. Aye, closer; clasp my body well, + And let thy sorrow loose, and shed, + As o'er the grave of one new dead, + Dead evermore, thy last farewell! [_A sound of weeping_. + +CASTOR. Alas, what would ye? For that cry + Ourselves and all the sons of heaven + Have pity. Yea, our peace is riven + By the strange pain of these that die. + +ORESTES. No more to see thee! ELECTRA. Nor thy breath + Be near my face! ORESTES. Ah, so it ends. +ELECTRA. Farewell, dear Argos. All ye friends, + Farewell! ORESTES. O faithful unto death, + + Thou goest? ELECTRA. Aye, I pass from you, + Soft-eyed at last. ORESTES. Go, Pylades, + And God go with you! Wed in peace + My tall Electra, and be true. + [ELECTRA _and_ PYLADES _depart to the left._ + +CASTOR. + + Their troth shall fill their hearts.--But on: + Dread feet are near thee, hounds of prey, + Snake-handed, midnight-visaged, yea, + And bitter pains their fruit! Begone! + [ORESTES _departs to the right_. + + But hark, the far Sicilian sea + Calls, and a noise of men and ships + That labour sunken to the lips + In bitter billows; forth go we, + + Through the long leagues of fiery blue, + With saving; not to souls unshriven; + But whoso in his life hath striven + To love things holy and be true, + + Through toil and storm we guard him; we + Save, and he shall not die!--Therefore, + O praise the lying man no more, + Nor with oath-breakers sail the sea: + Farewell, ye walkers on the shore + Of death! A God hath counselled ye. + [CASTOR _and_ POLYDEUCES _disappear_. + + CHORUS. + + Farewell, farewell!--But he who can so fare, + And stumbleth not on mischief anywhere, + Blessed on earth is he! + + + + +NOTES TO THE ELECTRA + + +The chief characters in the play belong to one family, as is shown by the +two genealogies:-- + + +I. + + TANTALUS + | + Pelops + __________|__________________ + | | + Atreus Thyestes + _________|__________ | + | | | + Agamemnon Menelaus Aegisthus + (=Clytemnestra) (=Helen) (=Clytemnestra) + _____|________________________ + | | | +Iphigenia Electra Orestes + +(Also, a sister of Agamemnon, name variously given, married Strophios, and +was the mother of Pylades.) + + +II. + + Tyndareus = Leda = Zeus + ____________________| ____|_________________________ + | | | | +Clytemnestra Castor Polydeuces Helen + + +P. 1, l. 10, Son of his father's foe.]--Both foe and brother. Atreus and +Thyestes became enemies after the theft of the Golden Lamb. See pp. 47 ff. + +P. 2, l. 34, Must wed with me.]--In Aeschylus and Sophocles Electra is +unmarried. This story of her peasant husband is found only in Euripides, +but is not likely to have been wantonly invented by him. It was no doubt +an existing legend--an [Greek: on logos], to use the phrase attributed to +Euripides in the _Frogs_ (l. 1052). He may have chosen to adopt it for +several reasons. First, to marry Electra to a peasant was a likely step +for Aegisthus to take, since any child born to her afterwards would bear a +stigma, calculated to damage him fatally as a pretender to the throne. +Again, it seemed to explain the name "A-lektra" (as if from [Greek: +lektron] "bed;" cf. Schol. _Orestes_, 71, Soph. _El_. 962, _Ant_. 917) +more pointedly than the commoner version. And it helps in the working out +of Electra's character (cf. pp. 17, 22, &c.). Also it gives an opportunity +of introducing the fine character of the peasant. He is an [Greek: +Autourgos] literally "self-worker," a man who works his own land, far from +the city, neither a slave nor a slave-master; "the men," as Euripides says +in the _Orestes_ (920), "who alone save a nation." (Cf, _Bac_., p. 115 +foot, and below, p. 26, ll. 367-390.) As Euripides became more and more +alienated from the town democracy he tended, like Tolstoy and others, to +idealise the workers of the soil. + +P. 6, l. 62, Children to our enemy.]--Cf. 626. Soph. _El_. 589. They do +not seem to be in existence at the time of the play. + +Pp. 5-6.]--Electra's first two speeches are admirable as expositions of +her character--the morbid nursing of hatred as a duty, the deliberate +posing, the impulsiveness, the quick response to kindness. + +P. 7, l. 82, Pylades.]--Pylades is a _persona muta_ both here and in +Sophocles' _Electra_, a fixed traditional figure, possessing no quality +but devotion to Orestes. In Aeschylus' _Libation-Bearers_ he speaks only +once, with tremendous effect, at the crisis of the play, to rebuke Orestes +when his heart fails him. In the _Iphigenia in Tauris_, however, and still +more in the _Orestes_, he is a fully studied character. + +P. 10, l. 151, A swan crying alone.]--Cf. _Bacchae_, p. 152, "As yearns +the milk-white swan when old swans die." + +P. 11, ll. 169 ff., The Watcher hath cried this day.]--Hera was an old +Pelasgian goddess, whose worship was kept in part a mystery from the +invading Achaeans or Dorians. There seems to have been a priest born "of +the ancient folk," _i.e._, a Pelasgian or aboriginal Mycenaean, who, by +some secret lore--probably some ancient and superseded method of +calculating the year--knew when Hera's festival was due, and walked round +the country three days beforehand to announce it. He drank "the milk of +the flock" and avoided wine, either from some religious taboo, or because +he represented the religion of the milk-drinking mountain shepherds. + +P. 13, ll. 220 ff.]--Observe Electra's cowardice when surprised; contrast +her courage, p. 47, when sending Orestes off, and again her quick drop to +despair when the news does not come soon enough. + +P. 16, ll. 247 ff., I am a wife.... O better dead!]--Rather ungenerous, +when compared with her words on p. 6. (Cf. also her words on pp. 24 and +26.) But she feels this herself, almost immediately. Orestes naturally +takes her to mean that her husband is one of Aegisthus' friends. This +would have ruined his plot. (Cf. above, p. 8, l. 98.) + +P. 22, l. 312, Castor.]--I know no other mention of Electra's betrothal to +Castor. He was her kinsman: see below on l. 990. + +Pp. 22-23, ll. 300-337.]--In this wonderful outbreak, observe the mixture +of all sorts of personal resentments and jealousies with the devotion of +the lonely woman to her father and her brother. "So men say," is an +interesting touch; perhaps conscience tells her midway that she does not +quite believe what she is saying. So is the self-conscious recognition of +her "bitter burning brain" that interprets all things in a sort of +distortion.--Observe, too, how instinctively she turns to the peasant for +sympathy in the strain of her emotion. It is his entrance, perhaps, which +prevents Orestes from being swept away and revealing himself. The +peasant's courage towards two armed men is striking, as well as his +courtesy and his sanity. He is the one character in the play not somehow +tainted with blood-madness. + +P. 27, ll. 403, 409.]--Why does Electra send her husband to the Old Man? +Not, I think, really for want of the food. It would have been easier to +borrow (p. 12, l. 191) from the Chorus; and, besides, what the peasant +says is no doubt true, that, if she liked, she could find "many a pleasant +thing" in the house. I think she sends for the Old Man because he is the +only person who would know Orestes (p. 21, l. 285). She is already, like +the Leader (p. 26, l. 401), excited by hopes which she will not confess. +This reading makes the next scene clearer also. + +Pp. 28-30, ll. 432-487, O for the Ships of Troy.]--The two main Choric +songs of this play are markedly what Aristotle calls [Greek: embolima] +"things thrown in." They have no effect upon the action, and form little +more than musical "relief." Not that they are positively irrelevant. +Agamemnon is in our minds all through the play, and Agamemnon's glory is +of course enhanced by the mention of Troy and the praises of his +subordinate king, Achilles. + +Thetis, the Nereid, or sea-maiden, was won to wife by Peleus. (He wrestled +with her on the seashore, and never loosed hold, though she turned into +divers strange beings--a lion, and fire, and water, and sea-beasts.) She +bore him Achilles, and then, unable permanently to live with a mortal, +went back beneath the sea. When Achilles was about to sail to Troy, she +and her sister Nereids brought him divine armour, and guided his ships +across the Aegean. The designs on Achilles' armour, as on Heracles' +shield, form a fairly common topic of poetry. + +The descriptions of the designs are mostly clear. Perseus with the +Gorgon's head, guided by Hermes; the Sun on a winged chariot, and stars +about him; two Sphinxes, holding as victims the men who had failed to +answer the riddles which they sang; and, on the breastplate, the Chimaera +attacking Bellerophon's winged horse, Pegasus. The name Pegasus suggested +to a Greek [Greek: pege], "fountain;" and the great spring of Pirene, near +Corinth, was made by Pegasus stamping on the rock. + +Pp. 30-47.]--The Old Man, like other old family servants in Euripides--the +extreme case is in the _Ion_--is absolutely and even morbidly devoted to +his masters. Delightful in this first scene, he becomes a little horrible +in the next, where they plot the murders; not only ferocious himself, but, +what seems worse, inclined to pet and enjoy the bloodthirstiness of his +"little mistress." + +Pp. 30-33, ll. 510-545.]--The Signs of Orestes. This scene, I think, has +been greatly misunderstood by critics. In Aeschylus' _Libation-Bearers_, +which deals with the same subject as the _Electra_, the scene is at +Agamemnon's tomb. Orestes lays his tress there in the prologue. Electra +comes bringing libations, sees the hair, compares it with her own, finds +that it is similar "wing for wing" ([Greek: homopteros]--the same word as +here), and guesses that it belongs to Orestes. She then measures the +footprints, and finds one that is like her own, one not; evidently Orestes +and a fellow-traveller! Orestes enters and announces himself; she refuses +to believe, until he shows her a "woven thing," perhaps the robe which he +is wearing, which she recognises as the work of her own hand. + +The same signs, described in one case by the same peculiar word, occur +here. The Old Man mentions one after the other, and Electra refutes or +rejects them. It has been thought therefore that this scene was meant as +an attack--a very weak and undignified attack--on Euripides' great master. +No parallel for such an artistically ruinous proceeding is quoted from any +Greek tragedy. And, apart from the improbability _a priori_, I do not +think it even possible to read the scene in this sense. To my mind, +Electra here rejects the signs not from reason, but from a sort of nervous +terror. She dares not believe that Orestes has come; because, if it prove +otherwise, the disappointment will be so terrible. As to both signs, the +lock of hair and the footprints, her arguments may be good; but observe +that she is afraid to make the comparison at all. And as to the footprint, +she says there cannot be one, when the Old Man has just seen it! And, +anyhow, she will not go to see it! Similarly as to the robe, she does her +best to deny that she ever wove it, though she and the Old Man both +remember it perfectly. She is fighting tremulously, with all her flagging +strength, against the thing she longs for. The whole point of the scene +requires that one ray of hope after another should be shown to Electra, +and that she should passionately, blindly, reject them all. That is what +Euripides wanted the signs for. + +But why, it may be asked, did he adopt Aeschylus' signs, and even his +peculiar word? Because, whether invented by Aeschylus or not, these signs +were a canonical part of the story by the time Euripides wrote. Every one +who knew the story of Orestes' return at all, knew of the hair and the +footprint. Aristophanes in the _Clouds_ (534 ff.) uses them proverbially, +when he speaks of his comedy "recognising its brother's tress." It would +have been frivolous to invent new ones. As a matter of fact, it seems +probable that the signs are older than Aeschylus; neither they nor the +word [Greek: homopteros] particularly suit Aeschylus' purpose. (Cf. Dr. +Verrall's introduction to the _Libation-Bearers_.) They probably come from +the old lyric poet, Stesichorus. + +P. 43, l. 652, New-mothered of a Man-Child.]--Her true Man-Child, the +Avenger whom they had sought to rob her of! This pitiless plan was +suggested apparently by the sacrifice to the Nymphs (p. 40). "Weep my +babe's low station" is of course ironical. The babe would set a seal on +Electra's degradation to the peasant class, and so end the blood-feud, as +far as she was concerned. Clytemnestra, longing for peace, must rejoice in +Electra's degradation. Yet she has motherly feelings too, and in fact +hardly knows what to think or do till she can consult Aegisthus (p. 71). +Electra, it would seem, actually calculates upon these feelings, while +despising them. + +P. 45, l. 669, If but some man will guide me.]--A suggestion of the +irresolution or melancholia that beset Orestes afterwards, alternating +with furious action. (Cf. Aeschylus' _Libation-Bearers_, Euripides' +_Andromache_ and _Orestes_.) + +P. 45, l. 671, Zeus of my sires, &c]--In this invocation, short and +comparatively unmoving, one can see perhaps an effect of Aeschylus' play. +In the _Libation-Bearers_ the invocation of Agamemnon comprises 200 lines +of extraordinarily eloquent poetry. + +P. 47 ff., ll. 699 ff.]--The Golden Lamb. The theft of the Golden Lamb is +treated as a story of the First Sin, after which all the world was changed +and became the poor place that it now is. It was at least the First Sin in +the blood-feud of this drama. + +The story is not explicitly told. Apparently the magic lamb was brought by +Pan from the gods, and given to Atreus as a special grace and a sign that +he was the true king. His younger brother, Thyestes, helped by Atreus' +wife, stole it and claimed to be king himself. So good was turned into +evil, and love into hatred, and the stars shaken in their courses. + +[It is rather curious that the Lamb should have such a special effect upon +the heavens and the weather. It is the same in Plato (_Polit._ 268 ff.), +and more definitely so in the treatise _De Astrologia,_ attributed to +Lucian, which says that the Golden Lamb is the constellation Aries, "The +Ram." Hugo Winckler (_Weltanschauung des alten Orients_, pp. 30, 31) +suggests that the story is a piece of Babylonian astronomy misunderstood. +It seems that the vernal equinox, which is now moving from the Ram into +the Fish, was in the ninth and eighth centuries B.C. moving from the Bull +into the Ram. Now the Bull, Marduk, was the special god of Babylon, and +the time when he yielded his place to the Ram was also, as a matter of +fact, the time of the decline of Babylon. The gradual advance of the Ram +not only upset the calendar, and made all the seasons wrong; but seemed, +since it coincided with the fall of the Great City, to upset the world in +general! Of course Euripides would know nothing of this. He was apparently +attracted to the Golden Lamb merely by the quaint beauty of the story.] + +P. 50, l. 746, Thy brethren even now.]--Castor and Polydeuces, who were +received into the stars after their death. See below, on l. 990. + +P. 51, l. 757, That answer bids me die.]--Why? Because Orestes, if he won +at all, would win by a surprise attack, and would send news instantly. A +prolonged conflict, without a message, would mean that Orestes and Pylades +were being overpowered. Of course she is wildly impatient. + +P. 51, l. 765, Who an thou? I mistrust thee.]--Just as she mistrusted the +Old Man's signs. See above, p. 89. + +P. 52 ff., ll. 774 ff.]--Messenger's Speech. This speech, though swift +and vivid, is less moving and also less sympathetic than most of the +Messengers' Speeches. Less moving, because the slaying of Aegisthus has +little moral interest; it is merely a daring and dangerous exploit. Less +sympathetic, because even here, in the first and comparatively blameless +step of the blood-vengeance, Euripides makes us feel the treacherous side +of it. A [Greek: dolophonia], a "slaying by guile," even at its best, +remains rather an ugly thing. + +P. 53, l. 793, Then quickly spake Orestes.]--If Orestes had washed with +Aegisthus, he would have become his _xenos_, or guest, as much as if he +had eaten his bread and salt. In that case the slaying would have been +definitely a crime, a dishonourable act. Also, Aegisthus would have had +the right to ask his name.--The unsuspiciousness of Aegisthus is partly +natural; it was not thus, alone and unarmed, that he expected Orestes to +stand before him. Partly it seems like a heaven-sent blindness. Even the +omens do not warn him, though no doubt in a moment more they would have +done so. + +P. 56, l. 878, With guile he hath slain.]--So the MSS. The Chorus have +already a faint feeling, quickly suppressed, that there may be another +side to Orestes' action. Most editors alter the text to mean "He hath +slain these guileful ones." + +P. 58, l. 900, It shames me, yet God knows I hunger sore.]--To treat the +dead with respect was one of the special marks of a Greek as opposed to a +barbarian. It is possible that the body of Aegisthus might legitimately +have been refused burial, or even nailed on a cross as Orestes in a moment +of excitement suggests. But to insult him lying dead would be a shock to +all Greek feeling. ("Unholy is the voice of loud thanksgiving over +slaughtered men," _Odyssey_ xxii. 412.) Any excess of this kind, any +violence towards the helpless, was apt to rouse "The sleeping wrath of the +world." There was a Greek proverb, "Even an injured dog has his Erinys"-- +_i.e._, his unseen guardian or avenger. It is interesting, though not +surprising, to hear that men had little love for Electra. The wonderful +speech that follows, though to a conventional Greek perhaps the most +outrageous thing of which she is guilty, shows best the inherent nobility +of her character before years of misery had "killed her soul within." + +P. 59, ll. 928 f., Being in falseness one, &c]--The Greek here is very +obscure and almost certainly corrupt. + +P. 61, l. 964, 'Tis my mother comes.]--The reaction has already begun in +Orestes. In the excitement and danger of killing his enemy he has shown +coolness and courage, but now a work lies before him vastly more horrible, +a little more treacherous, and with no element of daring to redeem it. +Electra, on the other hand, has done nothing yet; she has merely tried, +not very successfully, to revile the dead body, and her hate is +unsatisfied. Besides, one sees all through the play that Aegisthus was a +kind of odious stranger to her; it was the woman, her mother, who came +close to her and whom she really hated. + +P. 63, l. 979, Was it some fiend of Hell?]--The likeness to _Hamlet_ is +obvious. ("The spirit that I have seen May be the Devil." End of Act II.) + +P. 63, l. 983, How shall it be then, the same stealthy blow?...]--He +means, I think, "the same as that with which I have already murdered an +unsuspecting man to-day," but Electra for her own purposes misinterprets +him. + +P. 64, l. 990, God's horsemen, stars without a stain.]--Cf. above, ll. +312, 746. Castor and Polydeuces were sons of Zeus and Leda, brothers of +Helen, and half-brothers of Clytemnestra, whose father was the mortal +Tyndareus. They lived as knights without reproach, and afterwards became +stars and demigods. The story is told that originally Castor was mortal +and Polydeuces immortal; but when Castor was fatally wounded Polydeuces +prayed that he might be allowed to give him half his immortality. The +prayer was granted; and the two live as immortals, yet, in some mysterious +way, knowing the taste of death. Unlike the common sinners and punishers +of the rest of the play, these Heroes find their "glory" in saving men +from peril and suffering, especially at sea, where they appear as the +globes of light, called St. Elmo's fire, upon masts and yards. + +Pp. 64-71, ll. 998 ff.]--Clytemnestra. "And what sort of woman is this +doomed and 'evil' Queen? We know the majestic murderess of Aeschylus, so +strong as to be actually beautiful, so fearless and unrepentant that one +almost feels her to be right. One can imagine also another figure that +would be theatrically effective--a 'sympathetic' sinner, beautiful and +penitent, eager to redeem her sin by self-sacrifice. But Euripides gives +us neither. Perhaps he believed in neither. It is a piteous and most real +character that we have here, in this sad middle-aged woman, whose first +words are an apology; controlling quickly her old fires, anxious to be as +little hated as possible. She would even atone, one feels, if there were +any safe way of atonement; but the consequences of her old actions are +holding her, and she is bound to persist.... In her long speech it is +scarcely to Electra that she is chiefly speaking; it is to the Chorus, +perhaps to her own bondmaids; to any or all of the people whose shrinking +so frets her." (_Independent Review, l.c._) + +P. 65, l. 1011, Cast his child away.]--The Greek fleet assembled for Troy +was held by contrary winds at Aulis, in the Straits of Euboea, and the +whole expedition was in danger of breaking up. The prophets demanded a +human sacrifice, and Agamemnon gave his own daughter, Iphigenia. He +induced Clytemnestra to send her to him, by the pretext that Achilles had +asked for her in marriage. + +P. 66, l. 1046, Which led me to the men he hated.]--It made Clytemnestra's +crime worse, that her accomplice was the blood-foe. + +Pp. 65-68. As elsewhere in Euripides, these two speeches leave the matter +undecided. He does not attempt to argue the case out. He gives us a flash +of light, as it were, upon Clytemnestra's mind and then upon Electra's. +Each believes what she is saying, and neither understands the whole truth. +It is clear that Clytemnestra, being left for ten years utterly alone, and +having perhaps something of Helen's temperament about her, naturally fell +in love with the Lord of a neighbouring castle; and having once committed +herself, had no way of saving her life except by killing her husband, and +afterwards either killing or keeping strict watch upon Orestes and +Electra. Aegisthus, of course, was deliberately plotting to carry out his +blood-feud and to win a great kingdom. + +P. 72, l. 1156, For the flying heart too fond.]--The text is doubtful, but +this seems to be the literal translation, and the reference to +Clytemnestra is intelligible enough. + +P. 73, l. 1157, The giants' cloud-capped ring.]--The great walls of +Mycenae, built by the Cyclopes; cf. _Trojan Women_, p. 64, "Where the +towers of the giants shine O'er Argos cloudily." + +P. 75, l. 1201, Back, back in the wind and rain.]--The only explicit moral +judgment of the Chorus; cf. note on l. 878. + +P. 77, l. 1225, I touched with my hand thy sword.]--_i.e._, Electra +dropped her own sword in horror, then in a revulsion of feeling laid her +hand upon Orestes' sword--out of generosity, that he might not bear his +guilt alone. + +P. 78, l. 1241, An Argive ship.]--This may have been the ship of Menelaus, +which was brought to Argos by Castor and Polydeuces, see l. 1278. _Helena_ +1663. The ships labouring in the "Sicilian sea" (p. 82, l. 1347) must have +suggested to the audience the ships of the great expedition against +Sicily, then drawing near to its destruction. The Athenian fleet was +destroyed early in September 413 B.C.: this play was probably produced in +the spring of the same year, at which time the last reinforcements were +being sent out. + +P. 78, l. 1249.]--Marriage of Pylades and Electra. A good example of the +essentially historic nature of Greek tragedy. No one would have invented a +marriage between Electra and Pylades for the purposes of this play. It is +even a little disturbing. But it is here, because it was a fixed fact in +the tradition (cf. _Iphigenia in Tauris_, l. 915 ff.), and could not be +ignored. Doubtless these were people living who claimed descent from +Pylades and Electra. + +P. 79, l. 1253, Scourge thee as a burning wheel.]--At certain feasts a big +wheel soaked in some inflammable resin or tar was set fire to and rolled +down a mountain. + +P. 79, l. 1258, There is a hill in Athens.]--The great fame of the +Areopagus as a tribunal for man-slaying (see Aeschylus' _Eumenides_) +cannot have been due merely to its incorruptibility. Hardly any Athenian +tribunal was corruptible. But the Areopagus in very ancient times seems to +have superseded the early systems of "blood-feud" or "blood-debt" by a +humane and rational system of law, taking account of intention, +provocation, and the varying degrees of guilt. The Erinyes, being the old +Pelasgian avengers of blood, now superseded, have their dwelling in a +cavern underneath the Areopagus. + +P. 80, ll. 1276 ff.]--The graves of Aegisthus and Clytemnestra actually +existed in Argos (Paus. ii. 16, 7). They form, so to speak, the concrete +material fact round which the legend of this play circles (cf. Ridgeway in +_Hellenic Journal_, xxiv. p. xxxix.). + +P. 80, l. 1280.]--Helen. The story here adumbrated is taken from +Stesichorus, and forms the plot of Euripides' play _Helena_ (cf. +Herodotus, ii. 113 ff.). + +P. 80, l, 1295, I also, sons of Tyndareus.]--Observe that Electra claims +the gods as cousins (cf. p. 22, l. 313), addressing them by the name of +their mortal father. The Chorus has called them "sons of Zeus." In the +same spirit she faces the gods, complains, and even argues, while Orestes +never raises his eyes to them. + +P. 80, l. 1300.]--Keres. The death-spirits that flutter over our heads, as +Homer says, "innumerable, whom no man can fly nor hide from." + +P. 82, l. 1329, Yea, our peace is riven by the strange pain of these that +die.]--Cf. the attitude of Artemis at the end of the _Hippolytus_. +Sometimes Euripides introduces gods whose peace is not riven, but then +they are always hateful. (Cf. Aphrodite in the _Hippolytus_, Dionysus in +the _Bacchae_, Athena in the _Trojan Women_.) + +P. 82, l. 1336, O faithful unto death.]--This is the last word we hear of +Electra, and it is interesting. With all her unlovely qualities it remains +true that she was faithful--faithful to the dead and the absent, and to +what she looked upon as a fearful duty. + + * * * * * + +Additional Note on the presence of the Argive women during the plot +against the King and Queen. (Cf. especially p. 19, l. 272, These women +hear us.)--It would seem to us almost mad to speak so freely before the +women. But one must observe: 1. Stasis, or civil enmity, ran very high in +Greece, and these women were of the party that hated Aegisthus. 2. There +runs all through Euripides a very strong conception of the cohesiveness of +women, their secretiveness, and their faithfulness to one another. Medea, +Iphigenia, and Creusa, for instance, trust their women friends with +secrets involving life and death, and the secrets are kept. On the other +hand, when a man--Xuthus in the _Ion_--tells the Chorus women a secret, +they promptly and with great courage betray him. Aristophanes leaves the +same impression; and so do many incidents in Greek history. Cf. the +murders plotted by the Athenian women (Hdt. v. 87), and both by and +against the Lemnian women (Hdt. vi. 138). The subject is a large one, but +I would observe: 1. Athenian women were kept as a rule very much together, +and apart from men. 2. At the time of the great invasions the women of a +community must often have been of different race from the men; and this +may have started a tradition of behaviour. 3. Members of a subject (or +disaffected) nation have generally this cohesiveness: in Ireland, Poland, +and parts of Turkey the details of a political crime will, it is said, be +known to a whole country side, but not a whisper come to the authorities. + +Of course the mere mechanical fact that the Chorus had to be present on +the stage counts for something. It saved the dramatist trouble to make his +heroine confide in the Chorus. But I do not think Euripides would have +used this situation so often unless it had seemed to him both true to life +and dramatically interesting. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Electra of Euripides, by Euripides + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ELECTRA OF EURIPIDES *** + +***** This file should be named 14322.txt or 14322.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/3/2/14322/ + +Produced by Paul Murray, Charles Bidwell and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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