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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/7073-8.txt b/7073-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..36cec6e --- /dev/null +++ b/7073-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9116 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Specimens of Greek Tragedy, by Goldwin Smith + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Specimens of Greek Tragedy + Aeschylus and Sophocles + +Author: Goldwin Smith + +Release Date: December, 2004 [EBook #7073] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on March 6, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: Latin-1 + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SPECIMENS OF GREEK TRAGEDY *** + + + + +This eBook was produced by Juliet Sutherland, William Koven, +Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + +SPECIMENS OF GREEK TRAGEDY + +Translated By + +GOLDWIN SMITH, D.C.L. + + + +AESCHYLUS AND SOPHOCLES + + + +1893 + + + +PREFACE. + +Greek drama, forerunner of ours, had its origin in the festival of +Dionysus, god of wine, which was celebrated with dance, song, and +recitative. The recitative, being in character, was improved into the +Drama, the chief author of the improvement, tradition says, being +Thespis. But the dance and song were retained, and became the Chorus, +that peculiar feature of the Greek play. This seems to be the general +account of the matter, and especially of the combination of the lyric +with the dramatic element, so far as we can see through the mist of an +unrecorded age. + +Thirlwall, still perhaps the soundest and most judicious, though not +the most vivid or enthusiastic, historian of Greece, traces the origin +of the Drama to "the great choral compositions uniting the attractions +of music and action to those of a lofty poetry, which formed the +favourite entertainment of the Dorian cities." This, he says, appears +to have been the germ out of which, by the introduction of a new +element, the recitation of a performer who assumed a character and +perhaps from the first shifted his mask, so as to exhibit the outlines +of a simple story in a few scenes parted by the intervening song of +the Chorus, Thespis and his successors unfolded the Attic Tragedy. Of +the further development of the Drama in the age of Pericles, Thirlwall +says:-- + +"The drama was the branch of literature which peculiarly signalised +the age of Pericles; and it belongs to the political, no less than to +the literary, history of these times, and deserves to be considered in +both points of view. The steps by which it was brought through a +series of innovations to the form which it presents in its earliest +extant remains, are still a subject of controversy among antiquarians; +and even the poetical character of the authors by whom these changes +were effected, and of their works, is involved in great uncertainty. +We have reason to believe that it was no want of merit, or of absolute +worth, which caused them to be neglected and forgotten, but only the +superior attraction of the form which the drama finally assumed. Of +Phrynichus in particular, the immediate predecessor of Aeschylus, we +are led to conceive a very favourable opinion, both by the manner in +which he is mentioned by the ancients who were acquainted with his +poems, and by the effect which it is recorded to have produced upon +his audience. It is clear that Aeschylus, who found him in undisputed +possession of the public favour, regarded him as a worthy rival, and +was in part stimulated by emulation to unfold the capacities of their +common art by a variety of new inventions. These, however, were so +important as to entitle their author to be considered as the father of +Attic tragedy. This title he would have deserved, if he had only +introduced the dialogue, which distinguished his drama from that of +the preceding poets, who had told the story of each piece in a series +of monologues. So long as this was the case, the lyrical part must +have created the chief interest; and the difference between the Attic +tragedy and the choral songs which were exhibited in a similar manner +in the Dorian cities was perhaps not so striking as their agreement. +The innovation made by Aeschylus altered the whole character of the +poem; raised the purely dramatic portion from a subordinate to the +principal rank, and expanded it into a richly varied and well +organised composition. With him, it would seem, and as a natural +consequence of this great change, arose the usage, which to us appears +so singular, of exhibiting what was sometimes called a trilogy, which +comprised three distinct tragedies at the same time." + +Grote says:-- + +"The tragic drama belonged essentially to the festivals in honour of +the god Dionysus; being originally a chorus sung in his honour, to +which were successively superadded: First, an iambic monologue; next, +a dialogue with two actors; lastly, a regular plot with three actors, +and a chorus itself interwoven into the scene. Its subjects were from +the beginning, and always continued to be, persons either divine or +heroic above the level of historical life, and borrowed from what was +called the mythical past. 'The Persae' of Aeschylus, indeed, forms a +splendid exception; but the two analogous dramas of his contemporary, +Phrynichus, 'The Phoenissae,' and 'The Capture of Miletus,' were not +successful enough to invite subsequent tragedians to meddle with +contemporary events. To three serious dramas, or a trilogy--at first +connected together by a sequence of subject more or less loose, but +afterwards unconnected and on distinct subjects, through an innovation +introduced by Sophocles, if not before--the tragic poet added a fourth +or satyrical drama; the characters of which were satyrs, the +companions of the god Dionysus, and other historic or mythical persons +exhibited in farce. He thus made up a total of four dramas, or a +tetralogy, which he got up and brought forward to contend for the +prize at the festival. The expense of training the chorus and actors +was chiefly furnished by the choregi,--wealthy citizens, of whom one +was named for each of the ten tribes, and whose honour and vanity were +greatly interested in obtaining a prize. At first these exhibitions +took place on a temporary stage, with nothing but wooden supports and +scaffolding; but shortly after the year 500 B.C., on an occasion when +the poets Aeschylus and Pratinas were contending for the prize, this +stage gave way during the ceremony, and lamentable mischief was the +result. After that misfortune, a permanent theatre of stone was +provided. To what extent the project was realised before the +invasion of Xerxes we do not accurately know; but after his +destructive occupation of Athens, the theatre, if any existed +previously, would have to be rebuilt or renovated, along with +other injured portions of the city." + +Curtius says:-- + +"Thespis was the founder of Attic tragedy. He had introduced a +preliminary system of order into the alternation of recitative and +song, into the business of the actor, and into the management of dress +and stage. Solon was said to have disliked the art of Thespis, +regarding as dangerous the violent excitement of feelings by means of +phantastic representation; the Tyrants, on the other hand, encouraged +this new popular diversion; it suited their policy that the poor +should be entertained at the expense of the rich; the competition of +rival tragic choirs was introduced; and the stage near the black +poplar on the market-place became a centre of the festive merry- +makings in Attica." + +Curtius thinks that Pisistratus, as a popular usurper and opponent of +the aristocracy, encouraged the worship of the popular god Dionysus +with the Tragic Chorus, and he gives Pisistratus the credit of this +glorious innovation. A similar policy was ascribed to Cleisthenes of +Sicyon by Herodotus (v. 67). + +The Chorus thus remaining wedded to the Drama, parts the action with +lyric pieces more or less connected with it, and expressive of the +feelings which it excites. In Aeschylus and Sophocles the connection +is generally close; less close in Euripides. The Chorus also +occasionally joins in the dialogue, moralising or sympathising, +and sometimes, it must be owned, in a rather commonplace and insipid +strain. In "The Eumenides" of Aeschylus, the chorus of Furies takes +part as a character in the drama; in "The Suppliants" it plays the +principal part. + +The Drama came to perfection with Athenian art generally, and with +Athens herself in the period which followed the Persian war. The +performance of plays at the Dionysiac festival was an important event +in Athenian life. The whole city was gathered in the great open-air +theatre consecrated to Dionysus, whose priest occupied the seat of +honour. All the free men, at least, were gathered there; and when we +talk about the intellectual superiority of the Athenian people, we +must bear in mind that a condition of Athenian culture was the +delegation of industry to the slave. That audience was probably the +liveliest, most quick-witted, most appreciative, and most critical +that the world ever saw. Prizes were given to the authors of the best +pieces. Each tragedian exhibited three pieces, which at first formed a +connected series, though afterwards this rule was disregarded. After +the three tragic pieces was performed a satyric drama, to relieve the +mind from the strain of tragedy, and perhaps also as a conventional +tribute to the jollity of the god of wine. In the Elizabethan Drama +the tragic and comic are blended as they are in life. + +The subjects were taken usually from mythology, especially from the +circle of legends relating to the siege of Troy, to the tragic history +of the house of Atreus, the equally tragic history of the house of +Laius, and the adventures of Hercules. The subject of "The Persae" of +Aeschylus is a contemporary event, but this, as Grote says, was an +exception. Heroic action and suffering, the awful force of destiny and +of the will of heaven, are the general themes of Aeschylus and +Sophocles; passion, especially feminine passion, is more frequently +the theme of Euripides. Romantic love, the staple of the modern drama +and novel, was hardly known to the Greeks, whose romantic affection +was friendship, such as that of Orestes and Pylades, or Achilles and +Patroclus. The only approach to romantic love in the extant drama is +the love of Haemon and Antigone in the "Antigone" of Sophocles; and +even here it is subordinate to the conflict between state law and law +divine, which is the key-note of the piece; while the lovers do not +meet upon the scene. The sterner and fiercer passions, on the whole, +predominate, though Euripides has given us touching pictures of +conjugal, fraternal, and sisterly love. In the "Oedipus Coloneus" of +Sophocles also, filial love and the gentler feelings play a part in +harmony with the closing scene of the old man's unhappy life. In the +"Philoctetes," Sophocles introduces, as an element of tragedy, +physical pain, though it is combined with moral suffering. + +A popular entertainment was of course adapted to the tastes of the +people. Debate, both political and forensic, was almost the daily +bread of the people of Athens. The Athenian loved smart repartee and +display of the power of fencing with words. The thrust and parry of +wit in the single-line dialogues (_stichomythia_) pleased them +more than it pleases us. Rhetoric had a practical interest when not +only the victory of a man's opinions in the political assembly, but +his life and property before the popular tribunal, might depend on his +tongue. The Drama was also used in the absence of a press for +political or social teaching, and for the insinuation of political or +social opinions. In reading these passages we must throw ourselves +back twenty-three centuries, into an age when political and social +observation was new, like politics and civilised society themselves, +and ideas familiar to us now were fresh and struggling for expression. +The remark may be extended to the political philosophy which struggles +for expression in the speeches of Thucydides. + +The trio of Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides has been compared with +that of Marlowe, Shakespeare, and Beaumont and Fletcher, and with that +of Corneille, Racine, and Voltaire. The parallel will hardly hold good +except as an illustration of the course of youth, perfection, and +decay through which every art or product of imagination seems to run, +unlike science, which continually advances. The epoch of the Athenian +three, like that of the Elizabethan three, like that of the great +Spanish dramatists, was one of national achievement, and their drama +was thoroughly national; whereas the French drama was the highly +artificial entertainment of an exclusive Court. + +Aeschylus (B.C. 525-456) was the heroic poet of Athens. He had fought +certainly at Marathon, and, we may be pretty sure, at Salamis, so that +the narrative of the battle of Salamis in "The Persae" is probably +that of an eye-witness; and that he had fought at Marathon, not that +he had won the prize in drama, was the inscription which he desired +for his tomb. He is of the old school of thought and sentiment, full +of reverence for religion and for eternal law. The growing scepticism +had not touched him. His morality is lofty and austere. In politics he +was a conservative, of the party of Cimon, opposed to the radically +democratic party of Pericles; and his drama, especially the Oresteian +trilogy, teems with conservative sentiment and allusion. His +characters are of heroic cast. He deals superbly with the moral forces +and destiny; though it may be that more philosophy has been found in +him, especially by his German commentators, than is there, and that +obscurity arising from his imperfect command of language has sometimes +been mistaken for depth. His "Agamemnon" is generally deemed the +masterpiece of Greek tragedy. His language is stately and swelling, in +keeping with the heroic part of his characters; sometimes it is too +swelling, and even bombastic. Though he is the greatest of all, art in +him had not arrived at technical perfection. He reminds us sometimes +of the Aeginetan marbles, rather than the frieze of the Parthenon. + +In Sophocles (B.C. 495-405) the dramatic art has arrived at technical +perfection. His drama is regarded as the literary counterpart of the +Parthenon. Its calm and statuesque excellence exactly met the +requirements of the taste which we call classic, and seems to +correspond with the character of the dramatist, which was notably +gentle, and with his form, which was typically beautiful. His +characters are less heroic, and nearer to common humanity than those +of Aeschylus. He appeals more to pity. His art is more subtle, +especially in the treatment, for which he is famous, of the irony of +fate. In politics, social sentiment, and religion, while he is more of +the generation of Pericles than Aeschylus, he is still conservative +and orthodox. If he belongs to democracy, it is a democracy still kept +within moral bounds, and owning a master in its great chief, with whom +he seems to have been personally connected. Nor does he ever court +popularity by bringing the personages of the heroic age down to the +common level. He, as well as Aeschylus, is dear to Aristophanes, the +satiric poet of conservatism, while Euripides is hateful. + +Euripides (B.C. 480-406) perhaps slightly resembles Voltaire in this, +that he belongs to a different historic zone from his two +predecessors, from Sophocles as well as from Aeschylus, in political +and social sentiment, though not in date. He belongs to a full-blown +democracy, and is evidently the dramatic poet of the people. To please +the people he lays dignity and stateliness aside, brings heroic +characters down to a common level, and introduces characters which are +unheroic. He gives the people plenty of passion, especially of +feminine passion, without being nice as to its sources, or rejecting +such stories as those of Phaedra and Medea, which would have been +alien to the taste, not only of Aeschylus, but of Sophocles. He gives +them plenty of politics, plenty of rhetoric, plenty of discussion, +political and moral, plenty of speculation, which in those days was +novel, now and then a little scepticism. His "Alcestis" is melodrama +verging on sentimental comedy, and heralding the sentimental comedy of +Menander known to us in the versions of Terence. The chord of pathos +he can touch well. His degradation, as the old school thought it, of +the drama of Aeschylus and Sophocles, and what they deemed his +pandering to vulgar taste, brought upon him the bitter satire of +Aristophanes. Yet he did not win many prizes. Perhaps the vast theatre +and the grand choric accompaniments harmonised ill with his unheroic +style. He is clearly connected with the Sophists, and with the +generation the morality of which had been unsettled by the violence of +faction and the fury of the Peloponnesian war. Still there is no +reason for saying that he preached moral scepticism or impiety. +Probably he did not intend to preach anything, but to please his +popular audience and to win the prize. The line quoted against him, +"My lips have sworn, but my mind is unsworn," read in its place, has +nothing in it immoral. Perhaps he had his moods: he was religious when +he wrote "The Bacchae." As little ground is there for dubbing him a +woman-hater. If he has his Phaedra and Medea, he has also his Alcestis +and Electra. He seems to have prided himself on his choric odes. Some +of them have beauty in themselves, but they are little relevant to the +play. + +A full and critical account of the plays will not be expected in the +Preface to a series of extracts; it will be found in such literary +histories as that of Professor Mahaffy. Nor can it be necessary to +dilate on the merit of the pieces selected. The sublime agony of +Prometheus Bound, the majesty of wickedness in Clytaemnestra, +the martial grandeur of the siege of Thebes, or of the battle of +Salamis, in Aeschylus; the awful doom of Oedipus, his mysterious end, +the heroic despair of Ajax, the martyrdom of Antigone to duty, in +Sophocles; the passion of Phaedra and Medea, the conjugal +self-sacrifice of Alcestis, the narratives of the deaths of Polyxena +and the slaughter of Pentheus by the Bacchae, in Euripides, speak for +themselves, if the translation is at all faithful, and find their best +comment in the reader's natural appreciation. + +The number of those who do not read the originals will be increased by +the dropping of Greek from the academical course. To give them +something like an equivalent for the original in English is the object +of a translation. As prose can never be an equivalent for poetry, and +as the thoughts and diction of poetry are alien to prose, it is +necessary to run the risks of a translation in verse. To translate as +far as possible line for line, is requisite in the case of the Greek +dramatists, if we would not lose the form and balance which are of the +essence of Greek art. It is necessary also to preserve as much as +possible the simplicity of diction, and to avoid words and phrases +suggestive of very modern ideas. After all, it is difficult, with a +material so motley and irregular as the English language, to produce +anything like the pure marble of the Greek. There are translations of +Greek tragedies or parts of them by writers of high poetic reputation, +which are no doubt poetry, but are not Greek art. + +The lyric portions of the Greek Drama are admired and even +enthusiastically praised by literary judges whose verdict we shall not +presume to dispute. To translation, however, the choric odes hardly +lend themselves. Their dithyrambic character, their high-flown +language, strained metaphors, tortuous constructions, and frequent, +perhaps studied, obscurity, render it almost impossible to reproduce +them in the forms of our poetry. Nor perhaps when they are strictly +analysed will much be found, in many of them at least, of the material +whereof modern poetry is made. They are, in fact, the libretto of a +chant accompanied by dancing, and must have owed much to the melody +and movement. In attempting to render the grand choric odes of the +"Agamemnon," moreover, the translator is perplexed by corruptions of +the text and by the various interpretations of commentators, who, +though they all agree as to the moral pregnancy and sublimity of the +passage, frequently differ as to its precise meaning. A metrical +translation of these odes in English is apt to remind us of the +metrical versions of the Hebrew Psalms. A part of one chorus in +Aeschylus, which forms a distinct picture, has been given in +rhythmical prose; three choruses of Sophocles and two of Euripides +have, not without misgiving, been rendered in verse. + +The spelling of proper names is in a state of somewhat chaotic +transition which makes it difficult to take a definite course. The +precisians themselves are not consistent: they still speak of Troy, +Athens, Plato, and Aristotle. In the versions themselves the Greek +forms have been preferred, though a pedantic extreme has been avoided. +In the Preface and Introduction the forms familiar to the English +reader have been used. + +For Aeschylus and Euripides, the editions of Paley in the _Bibliotheca +Classica_ have been used; for Sophocles, that of Mr. Lewis Campbell. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +PREFACE + + +AESCHYLUS. + +PROMETHEUS BOUND. + +Introduction + +Prometheus is brought in by the Spirits of Might and Force, Hephaestus +accompanying them. Lines 1-113 + +The Sin of Prometheus. Lines 444-533 + +Prometheus defies Zeus. Lines 928-1114 + + +THE PERSIANS. + +Introduction + +Atossa's Dream. Lines 1478-216 + +The Battle of Salamis and the Destruction of the Persian Fleet. Lines +251-473 + + +THE SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. + +Introduction + +The Champions. Lines 370-673 + + +AGAMEMNON. + +Introduction + +The Fall of Troy announced at Mycenae. Lines 1-39 + +The Chorus recounts the Sacrifice of Iphigenia. Lines 177-240 + +The Meeting of Agamemnon and Clytaemnestra. Lines 828-947 + +Cassandra's Prophecy. Lines 1149-1391 + +Cassandra's Prophecy fulfilled. Lines 1343-1554 + + +THE CHOËPHOROE. + +Introduction + +Orestes discovers himself to Electra. Lines 158-274 + +Clytaemnestra pleads to her Son Orestes for her Life in Vain. Lines +860-916 + + +THE EUMENIDES (FURIES). + +Introduction + +Orestes is tried as a Matricide before the Court of the Areopagus at +Athens. Lines 536-747 + + +SOPHOCLES. + + +OEDIPUS THE KING. + +Introduction + +The Plague-stricken Thebans supplicate Oedipus for Relief. Lines 1-77 + +Oedipus calls upon Tiresias to reveal the Murderer of Laius. Lines +300-462 + +The Death of Polybus announced. The Secret of Oedipus's Incest and +Murder revealed. Lines 924-1085 + +Jocasta hangs herself and Oedipus puts out his Eyes. The Scene +described. Lines 1223-1296 + +Oedipus bewails his Calamities. His Colloquy with Creon. Lines +1369-1514 + + +OEDIPUS AT COLONUS. + +Introduction + +Oedipus and Antigone arrive at Colonus and enter the Consecrated +Ground. Lines 1-110 + +The Chorus chants the Praises of Colonus. Lines 668-719 + +Length of Days: Choric Hymn. Lines 1211-1238 + +The End of Oedipus. Lines 1579-1667 + + +ANTIGONE. + +Introduction + +Antigone proposes to Ismene to take a Part in paying the Last Rites to +their Brother Polynices. Lines 1-99 + +Antigone is caught by the Guard paying Funeral Rites to the Corpse of +Polynices, and is brought before Creon. Lines 384-581 + +A Colloquy between Creon and his Son Haemon, to whom Antigone is +betrothed. Lines 631-780 + +The Power of Love: Choric Hymn. Lines 781-800 + +Antigone is sent to her Death by Creon. Lines 882-928 + +Creon, having been brought to Repentance by the Denunciations of the +Prophet Tiresias, sets out to bury the Corpse of Polynices and release +Antigone from the Cave of Death. The Issue is recounted by a Messenger +to the Queen, Eurydice. Lines 1155-1243 + + +AJAX. + +Introduction + +Tecmessa, a Captive with whom Ajax lives as his Wife, tells the Chorus +of Salaminian Mariners what has befallen their Chieftain. Lines +284-330 + +Ajax bewails his own Fall. Tecmessa tries to comfort him and turn him +from Violent Courses. Lines 430-595 + +Ajax pretends to be softened, and to be going forth only for the +Harmless Purpose of Purification in a Running Stream, though he is +really going to his Death. Lines 646-692 + +The Last Speech of Ajax. Lines 815-865 + + +ELECTRA. + +Introduction + +The Tutor of Orestes tells Clytaemnestra a Fictitious Story of her +Son's Death by a Fall in a Chariot Race. Electra is on the Scene. +Lines 660-822 + +Electra's Sister Chrysothemis, having found the offerings of Orestes +on his Father's Tomb, brings what she deems glad Tidings to Electra, +who meets her with the Announcement that the Pedagogos has just +brought Certain News of their Brother's Death. Electra, now reduced to +Despair, proposes to Chrysothemis that they should themselves attempt +to slay Aegisthus. Lines 871-1057 + +Orestes enters with the Urn which, it is pretended, contains his +Ashes. His Recognition ensues. Lines 1097-1231 + + +THE TRACHINIAE + +Introduction + +Deianira imparts the Secret of her Device for regaining the Love of +her Husband, Hercules, and puts the Fatal Robe into the Hands of +Lichas, the Herald, that he may carry it to Hercules. Lines 531-632 + +Deianira recounts to the Chorus an Alarming and Portentous Incident. +Then Hyllus, the Son of Hercules, comes and announces the Catastrophe. +Lines 663-820 + + +PHILOCTETES. + +Introduction + +Ulysses explains the Plan of Action to Neoptolemus, and labours to +bend him to his Purpose. Lines 1-134 + +Neoptolemus having filched the Bow of Philoctetes, Philoctetes prays +him to restore it. Lines 927-962 + + + + + +AESCHYLUS + + + + +PROMETHEUS BOUND. + + +Prometheus, the good Titan, has been raising mankind from the +condition of primeval brutes by teaching them the arts of +civilisation. At last he steals fire from heaven for their use. +By this he incurs the wrath of Zeus, who, having deposed his +father Chronos, has become king of the gods. As a punishment +Prometheus is condemned by Zeus to be chained to a rock in the +Caucasus, with an eagle always feeding on his breast. But Prometheus +knows the secret of a mysterious marriage which is destined in time to +take place, and by the offspring of which Zeus in his turn is to be +dethroned. Strong in his consciousness of this, he defies Zeus, who by +the agency of Hermes tries in vain to wrest the secret from him. The +persons of the drama, besides Prometheus, are Hephaestus, better known +by his Latin name of Vulcan, Might and Force personified, Hermes the +messenger of Heaven, and the wandering Io. The chorus consists of sea- +nymphs, who sympathise with the suffering Prometheus. This drama is a +sublime enigma. Aeschylus was conservative and deeply religious. How +could he write a play the hero of which is a benefactor of man +struggling against the tyranny of the king of the gods, and the sequel +of which found a fit and congenial composer in Shelley, whose +sentiment and manner the "Prometheus Bound" wonderfully anticipates +and perhaps helped to form? Again, how could the Athenians, in an age +when their piety had not yet given way to scepticism, have endured +such dramatic treatment of the chief of the gods? It is almost as if a +Mystery Play had been presented in the Middle Ages with Satan for the +hero and the First Person of the Trinity in the character of an +oppressor. Perhaps the position of Zeus in the drama as a usurper may, +in some degree, have softened the religious effect. + + * * * * * + +Prometheus is brought in by the Spirits of Might and Force, +Hephaestus accompanying them. + +LINES 1-113. + +SCENE: _The Caucasus_. + +MIGHT. + +Unto earth's utmost boundary we have come, +To Scythia's realm, th' untrodden wilderness. +Hephaestus, now it is thy part to do +The Almighty Father's bidding, and to bind +This arch-deceiver to yon lowering cliff +With bonds of everlasting adamant. +Thy attribute, all-fabricating fire, +He stole and gave to man. Such is the crime +For which he pays the penalty to Heaven, +That he may learn henceforth meekly to bear +The rule of Zeus and less befriend mankind. + +HEPHAESTUS. + +Spirits of Might and Force, by you the word +Of Zeus has been fulfilled; your task is done. +But I--to bind a god, one of my kin, +To a storm-beaten cliff, my heart abhors. +And yet this must I do, for woe is him +That does not what the Almighty Sire commands. +Thou high-aspiring son of Themis sage, +Unwilling is the hand that rivets thee +Indissolubly to this lonely rock, +Where thou shalt see no face and hear no voice +Of man, but, scorched by the sun's burning ray, +Change thy fair hue for dark, and long for night +With starry kirtle to close up the day, +And for the morn to melt the frosts of night, +Still racked with tortures endlessly renewed, +And which to end redeemer none is born. +Such is the guerdon of thy love for man. +A god thyself, thou gav'st, despite the gods, +To mortals more than is a mortal's due. +And therefore must thou keep this dreary rock, +Erect, with frame unbending, reft of sleep, +And many a bootless wail of agony +Shalt utter. Change of mind in Zeus is none, +Ruthless the rule when power is newly won. + +MIGHT. + +To work! A truce to these weak wails of ruth. +Whom the gods hate why dost thou not abhor-- +Him that betrayed thy attribute to man? + +HEPHAESTUS. + +Great force have kindred and companionship. + +MIGHT. + +True, but to disobey the Almighty Sire +How canst thou dare? Fearest thou not this more? + +HEPHAESTUS. + +Relentless still and pitiless art thou. + +MIGHT. + +Thy wailings are no medicines for his woes; +Then waste no pains on that which profits naught. + +HEPHAESTUS. + +O thrice accurs'd this master-craft of mine! + +MIGHT. + +Why dost thou curse it? Simple truth to say, +Thy art is no way guilty of these ills. + +HEPHAESTUS. + +Would it had fallen to any lot but mine. + +MIGHT. + +The one thing to the gods themselves denied +[Footnote: In this passage I have retained the old reading eprachthae +with the interpretation of the Scholiast.] +Is sovereignty, for Zeus alone is free. + +HEPHAESTUS. + +Too well I know it, and gainsay it not. + +MIGHT. + +Be quick, then, and make fast this sinner's chain, +Lest the Almighty see thee loitering. + +HEPHAESTUS. + +Here are the fetters for his arms; behold them. + +MIGHT. + +Grasp him, and with thy hammer round his arms +Strike and strike hard and clench them to the rock. + +HEPHAESTUS. + +The work goes on apace and tarries not. + +MIGHT. + +Strike harder, clench, leave nothing loose; his craft, +E'en in extremity, can find a way. + +HEPHAESTUS. + +This arm is fixed past any power to loose. + +MIGHT. + +Clench now the other firmly; let him know +That all his cunning is no match for Zeus. + +HEPHAESTUS. + +Fault with my work can no one find save he. + +MIGHT. + +Drive then the ruthless spike of adamant +Right through the sinner's breast and see it holds. + +HEPHAESTUS. + +Alas, Prometheus! I bemoan thy pains. + +MIGHT. + +Thou loiterest, moaning for the foe of Zeus; +One day thou mayest be moaning for thyself. + +HEPHAESTUS. + +Thou see'st a sight most piteous to behold. + +MIGHT. + +I see yon sinner meeting his desert. +Proceed, make fast the fetters round his sides. + +HEPHAESTUS. + +Needs must I do it, press me not too hard. + +MIGHT. + +Press thee I will, and shout into thine ear. +Go down and clench the gyves about his legs. + +HEPHAESTUS. + +That work with little labour has been done. + +MIGHT. + +Now let thy hammer all the bonds make fast; +The overseer of this thy work is stern. + +HEPHAESTUS. + +Thy speech is ruthless as thy looks are grim. + +MIGHT. + +Be thou soft-hearted an thou wilt, but spare +To flout my sternness and my strong resolve. + +HEPHAESTUS. + +Let us be gone; the gyves are on his legs. + +MIGHT. + +There revel in thy insolence, there rob +Gods of their attributes to give to man. +Can mortal man in aught thy durance ease? +Ill chosen was the name that thou hast borne. +Foresight it means, but thou dost foresight need +To set thy limbs free from his handiwork. + +PROMETHEUS. + +O glorious firmament; O swift-winged winds, +Ye rivers and ye gleaming ocean waves +Innumerable, and thou great Mother Earth, +Thou, too, O sun, with thy all-seeing eye, +Look how a god is treated by the gods! +See the pains that I must bear, +Even to the thousandth year! +Such the chains that heaven's new king +Forges for my torturing. +Ah me! Ah me! my present woe +Does but the pangs to come foreshow, +Pangs that an end will never know. + +Yet hold! The darkness of futurity +Is to my eye not dark, nor can aught come +That I do not foresee. Our destiny +We all must bear as lightly as we may, +Since none may wrestle with necessity. +And yet to speak or not to speak alike +Is miserable. High service done to man-- +For this I bear the adamantine chain. +I to its elemental fountain tracked, +In fern-pith stored and bore by stealth away, +Fire, source and teacher of all arts to men. +Such mine offence, whereof the penalty +I pay, thus chained in face of earth and heaven. + + * * * * * + +_THE SIN OF PROMETHEUS_. + +LINES 444-533. + +PROMETHEUS. + +Think not it is from pride or wantonness +That I forbear to speak; my heart is wrung +With looking on these ignominious bonds. +Who was it that to these new deities +Their attributes apportioned? Who but I? +Of that no more; to you as well as me +The tale is known; but list while I recount +How vile was man's estate, how void was man +Of reason, till I gave him mind and sense. +Not that I would upbraid the race of men: +I would but show my own benevolence. +Eyesight they had, yet nothing saw aright; +Ears, and yet heard not; but like forms in dreams, +For ages lived a life confused, nor bricks +Nor woodwork had to build them sunny homes, +But dwelt beneath the ground, as do the tribes +Diminutive of ants, in sunless caves. +Nor had they signs to mark the season's change, +Coming of winter or of flowery spring +Or of boon summer; but at random wrought +In all things, till I taught them to discern +The risings and the settings of the stars; +The use of numbers, crown of sciences, +Was my invention; mine were letters too, +The implement of mind in all its works. +First I trained beasts to draw beneath the yoke, +The collar to endure, the rider bear, +And thus relieve man of his heaviest toils. +First taught the steed, obedient to the rein, +To draw the chariot, wealth's proud appanage. +Nor, before me, did any launch the barque +With its white wings to rove the ocean wave. +These blessings, hapless that I am, have I +Devised for man, and yet device have none +Myself to liberate from these fell bonds. + +CHORUS. + +Sad is thy lot, to thy unwisdom due. +Now, like a bad physician that himself +Has into sickness fallen, thou dost despair +And hast no medicine for thine own disease. + +PROMETHEUS. + +Hear what remains, and thou wilt wonder more +At all the feats of my inventive mind. +Greatest of all was this; when they fell sick +Men had no help, no medicine edible, +Potion or ointment, but for lack of cure +Wasted away and perished, till my skill +Taught them to mix the juice of sovran herbs, +With which they now ward off all maladies. +Of divination many ways I traced, +Laid down the rules for telling which of dreams +Would be fulfilled, and of foreboding sounds +The mystery unfolded. Then I taught +What sights are ominous to wayfarers. +I showed which of the birds that wing the heavens +Were lucky, which unlucky, and what were +Their loves and hatreds and foregatherings. +Then what the flesh of victims signified, +Of its appearances which pleased the gods, +How shaped, how streaked each part behoved to be, +And the burnt offerings on the altar laid, +Thighs wrapped in fat and chine. I read the signs +Of sacrificial flames unread before. +More yet I did; the wealth that lurks for man +In earth's dark womb,--gold, silver, iron, brass,-- +Who was it brought all this to light but I? +All others lie who would the honour claim. +In one short sentence a long tale is told +Alone Prometheus gave all arts to man. + +CHORUS. + +Take heed; be not to mortals overkind, +But to thyself in this dire strait unkind. +Good hope have I, one day to see thee stand +Free from those bonds and mate the power of Zeus. + +PROMETHEUS. + +Not yet that consummation fate ordains. +A thousand years of agony must pass +Before my tortured frame puts off this chain. +For skill is weak matched with necessity. + +CHORUS. + +Who, then, is pilot of necessity? + +PROMETHEUS. + +Fates three, and the unchanged Erinnyes. + +CHORUS. + +And have these powers the mastery over Zeus? + +PROMETHEUS. + +Not Zeus himself can baffle destiny. + +CHORUS. + +What is his destiny but endless rule? + +PROMETHEUS. + +I may not tell thee; importune me not. + +CHORUS. + +Dread is the secret that thou hidest thus. + +PROMETHEUS. + +Think of some other question; this to tell +The time is not yet ripe; deep in my breast +The secret must be buried; thus alone +May I from chains and tortures be set free. + + * * * * * + +_PROMETHEUS DEFIES ZEUS_. + +LINES 928-1114. + +PROMETHEUS. + +Yet, yet shall Zeus, for all his proud self-will, +Be humbled. On a wedlock he is bent +Whereof the fateful offspring shall one day +Hurl him from sovereignty to nothingness, +And so fulfil the curse old Chronos spake, +When from his immemorial throne he fell. +And this his doom how to escape not one +Of all the gods can rede him saving I. +But to me all is known. Then let him sit +Triumphant while his thunders roll through heaven, +And his hand grasps the flaming thunderbolt; +All his artillery shall not save its lord +From utter shame and ruin bottomless. +Such the antagonist himself arrays +Against himself, dread and invincible, +One who a fiercer than the lightning's flame, +A louder than the thunder's peal shall find, +And wrest the truncheon that makes earth to quake, +Poseidon's trident, from its wielder's hand. +Wrecked on misfortune's rock, he then shall know +How high it is to reign, to serve how low. + +CHORUS. + +Thy wish is father to thy prophecy. + +PROMETHEUS. + +My wish is one with destiny's decree. + +CHORUS. + +Think'st thou that Zeus will e'er his master find? + +PROMETHEUS. + +Ay! and a load harder than mine to bear. + +CHORUS. + +Dost thou not fear to cast such words at Zeus? + +PROMETHEUS. + +What should I fear when I must never die? + +CHORUS. + +But Zeus may yet enhance thine agony. + +PROMETHEUS. + +Prepared for all, his malice I defy. + +CHORUS. + +'Tis wise to bow to the inevitable. + +PROMETHEUS. + +Cringe, if thou wilt, sue, bend the knee to power. +Little reck I of Zeus. Then let him work +His tyrant will for his allotted span. +Not long shall he be monarch of the gods. +But lo! the Almighty's henchman I behold, +That errands bears for this new dynasty; +His lacqueyship must some new fiat bring. + +(_Enter_ HERMES.) + +HERMES. + +Thou of the crafty soul and bitter tongue, +Sinner, that did'st betray to mortal man +The attributes of gods, stealer of fire, +The Father bids thee tell what wedlock this +That thou dost boast shall hurl him from his throne. +Speak plain, Prometheus, and take heed that I +Have not a second journey, for such shifts, +As well thou seest, turn not the heart of Zeus. + +PROMETHEUS. + +High are the words and full of majesty +For him that runs the errands of the gods. +New are ye, new to rule, and deem your tower +Of puissance proof against calamity. +Yet therefrom two lords I have seen cast out; +A third, him that now reigns, cast out shall see +Most quickly and most foully. Think'st thou I +Will crouch before these gods of yesterday? +Far, far from me that thought of shame. Do thou +The way thou camest measure back with speed, +For to thy question I give answer none. + +HERMES. + +It was by such self-will before displayed, +That thou did'st pluck these woes upon thy head. + +PROMETHEUS. + +My woes, how great so e'er, I would not change +For servitude like thine; of that be sure. + +HERMES. + +Better, thou think'st, be bondsman to this rock +Than be the faithful pursuivant of Zeus. + +PROMETHEUS. + +'Tis meet the scorner should be met with scorn. + +HERMES. + +Thou seem'st to revel in thy present lot. + +PROMETHEUS. + +Revel! I would that I could see my foes +Thus revelling, of whom I count thee one. + +HERMES. + +Layest thou the blame on me of thy mischance? + +PROMETHEUS. + +I hate, without exception, all the gods +Who my good deeds with injury requite. + +HERMES. + +Thy words bespeak no common sickness thine. + +PROMETHEUS. + +If hating foes be sickness, I am sick. + +HERMES. + +Thou wert past bearing wert thou prosperous. + +PROMETHEUS. + +Alas! + +HERMES. + +Zeus knows not how to say Alas! + +PROMETHEUS. + +Time in its course can teach us anything. + +HERMES. + +Yet thee it has not taught to rule thy tongue. + +PROMETHEUS.. + +No, else I had not parleyed with a slave. + +HERMES. + +It seems thou wilt not tell what Zeus demands. + +PROMETHEUS. + +Were I his debtor I the debt would pay. + +HERMES. + +As though I were a child thou twittest me. + +PROMETHEUS. + +Art thou not sillier than a silly child, +To think that I will tell thee what thou ask'st? +No torture does Zeus know, he has no rack +By which he can my secret wrest from me, +Till from these cruel bonds I am released. +Let him hurl lightnings with his red right hand, +Let him with whirling snow and earthquake shock, +Confound and wreck this universal frame, +Never shall he constrain me to reveal +The child of fate that hurls him from his throne. + +HERMES. + +Look, will this insolence amend thy lot? + +PROMETHEUS. + +I have well looked, and fixed is my resolve. + +HERMES. + +Bow thy proud soul, insensate wretch, and do +What wisdom bids in thine extremity. + +PROMETHEUS. + +Waste no more words, thou dost but chide the sea; +Dream not that I can be o'erawed by Zeus, +That I will from my manhood derogate +And sue to him that from my soul I hate, +With womanish uplifting of my hands, +For liberation from these fetters.--Never! + +HERMES. + +Methinks I spend my eloquence in vain, +For all my prayers nor melt nor move thy heart. +Like a raw colt that pulls against the reins, +Taking the bit between his teeth, art thou. +And yet thy mettle will but weakness prove; +For dogged resolution by itself, +With wisdom unallied, is impotence. +See if thou wilt not to my words give ear, +What stormy billows of resistless woe +Will overwhelm thee. First the Almighty Sire +Will with his thunder cleave this beetling rock, +And bury thee beneath its shattered base, +Within its stony arms enfolding thee; +And many an age shall pass ere thou return +To daylight. Then the winged hound of Zeus, +The ravening eagle with devouring maw, +Shall deeply trench thy quivering flesh and come, +Day after day, an uninvited guest, +To feast upon thy ulcerated heart. +Of this thy agony expect no end +Until some god appears to take on him +Thy load of suffering, and for thee descend +To the dark depths of the dread under-world. +Advise thee then, and deem not that my words +Are feigned, for I in bitter earnest speak. +The lips of the Almighty cannot lie; +Each word they utter surely is fulfilled. +Use then thy forecast and be circumspect, +Nor o'er good counsel let self-will prevail. + +CHORUS. + +As seems to us, Hermes has spoken well, +In that he redes thee put away self-will, +And take far-sighted prudence to thy heart. +Give ear; for one so wise to err were shame. + +PROMETHEUS. + +Well known beforehand was to me +The purport of this embassy. +His foe am I, he is my foe, +And I his worst can undergo. +Then let his forked lightnings flash, +Heaven with his pealing thunder crash: +Let him the wild winds loose and make +Earth to her deep foundation shake; +Bid the swoll'n waves, by tempest driven, +Mount up and drench the stars of heaven; +And let my helpless form be hurled +Headlong to the dark under-world +Midst raging wreck of earth and sky.-- +There ends his power, I cannot die. +HERMES. + +Madness it is inspires thy thought. +Thy words are words of one distraught. +What here is wanting that can be +Sure token of insanity? +But now, ye ocean nymphs whose eyes +Weep for yon sinner's agonies, +Go hence, the heavens begin to lower, +Go hence, or with its awful stour +The thunder will your souls o'erpower. + +CHORUS. + +Go hence; good Hermes, change thy rede +And I will to thy words give heed. +But ne'er to me such counsel name +As e'en to think upon were shame, +Whate'er Prometheus may betide, +Be mine to suffer at his side. +Of all foul things abhorred by me +The most abhorred is perfidy. + +HERMES. + +Lay then to heart what now I say, +And think not in destruction's day +On fortune's spite the blame to throw, +Or say that Zeus has wrought your woe. +When thou hast rushed into the net +Of doom for fate by folly set, +Thou wilt thy just reward have met. + +PROMETHEUS. + +Now the dread hour has come: earth reels, +Through heaven the crashing thunder peals, +Forked lightnings blaze about the sky, +The sand in clouds is whirled on high; +From east, from west, from south, from north, +The winds in mad career rush forth, +And elemental battle join; +The welkin mingles with the brine; +Upon me comes in flood and fire +The blast of the Almighty's ire. +Look, holy mother, on this sight; +Look on it, Aether, source of light, +See justice overborne by might. + + + + +THE PERSIANS + +Xerxes has led the hosts of Asia on the fatal expedition against +Hellas. His mother, Atossa, remaining at Susa, has a fatal dream, +which she recounts to the chorus of aged Persians. + + * * * * * + +_ATOSSA'S DREAM_. + +LINES 178-216. + +ATOSSA. + +By dreams I have been haunted every night, +Since with his armament my son went forth +To smite the land of the Ionians. +Yet never dream has come so startling clear +As last night's vision; let me tell it thee:-- +Methought two women, beauteously attired, +The robes of one in Persian fashion wrought. +Those of her mate in Dorian, met my view. +In stature they surpassed all womankind; +Peerless their forms; sisters they were in blood. +The heritage and dwelling-place of one +Was Hellas, of the other Asia. +Between these two methought a strife arose, +Which when my son perceived, he checked their wrath +And calmed them, and beneath his chariot's yoke +He led them both, and o'er their necks the rein +He stretched. Then of her trappings one seemed proud +And to the bit her mouth obedient lent. +But her companion, like a restive steed, +The harness broke, and, heeding not the bit, +O'erthrew the car and snapped the yoke in twain. +My son falls, and his sire Darius comes +To aid and comfort him, whom when he sees, +Xerxes his garments rends in sign of woe. +Such was my dream. When morning came I rose, +And first the night's pollution purged away +With purifying waters, then I sought +The altar, with my sacrificial train +To lay the gift, which turns the wrath divine, +Of honeyed meal before the powers who save. +Behold an eagle flying in affright +To Phoebus' shrine; fear struck me mute, my friends. +Then lo! a falcon on the eagle swoops, +Assails him with his wings and tears his head +With angry talons, while the mightier bird +Cowers unresisting. Awful 'twas to see, +Awful it is for you to hear. My son, +If well he fares, will boundless glory win, +If ill--yet he no reckoning owes the state; +Let him but live and he is master here. + + * * * * * + +_SALAMIS_. + +The battle narrated by a Persian coming from the scene. + +LINES 251-473. + +MESSENGER. + +Alas! ye cities all of Asia, +Alas! thou Persia, treasure-house of wealth, +How at one stroke has your prosperity +Been overthrown and Persia's glory lost! +Ill-luck has he that evil tidings brings, +Yet needs must I my tale of woe unfold. +Persians, our host has perished utterly. + + * * * * * * * + +ATOSSA. + +O'erwhelming sorrow has long held me mute. +Disaster such as this transcends all thought, +Bars all enquiry, chokes all utterance. +And yet we mortals must misfortune bear +When heaven ordains. Then, though thy heart be +wrung, +Calm thee and tell us all, that we may know +Who of our warriors lives, whom we must mourn +Among our chiefs, as having by his death +Left void the station of his high command. + +MESSENGER. + +Xerxes himself lives and beholds the sun. + +ATOSSA. + +Thy word is sunshine to my sorrowing house; +A cheerful day after a dismal night. + +MESSENGER. + +Artembares, that led ten thousand horse, +Lies slain upon the rough Silenian shore; +And Dadaces, that led a thousand more, +Pierced by a spear plunged headlong from his barque; +And Tenagon, Bactria's true son and pride, +Lies on the wave-washed beach of Ajax' Isle. +Lileus, Arsames, Argestes too, +Round the dove-haunted island drifting, struck +Its girdling rocks on fell disaster's day. +Matallus, that from Chrysa came, has fallen, +He that dark horsemen thrice ten thousand led; +The flowing beard that graced his cheek in gore +Steeped unto crimson turned its russet hue. +Arabian Magos, Bactrian Artames, +Die in a strange land, never to return; +And Tharybis, of five times fifty sail +Commander, Lyrna's son, with his fair face +By foul mischance of war has been laid low. +While, bravest of the brave, Syennesis, +Cilicia's admiral, who to the foe +Most trouble gave, has met a glorious doom. + +ATOSSA. + +Alas! this overtops the height of woe; +For Persia naught remains but shame and wail. +But now take up thy story, let me hear +What was the number of the Hellenic fleet, +That thus it dared our Persian armament +In battle with encountering prows to brave. + +MESSENGER. + +Know that if numbers could have gained the day +Victory was ours, for the Hellenic fleet +Counted in all but thrice a hundred sail, +Of which were ten for swiftness set apart. +But with a thousand galleys Xerxes came-- +His muster-roll I know--whereof the ships +For swiftness picked two hundred were and seven. +Think you herein ours was the weaker side? +Some deity against us turned the scale, +And brought confusion on our armament, +The powers of Heaven for Pallas' city fight. + +ATOSSA. + +Has Athens then escaped the avenger's hand? + +MESSENGER. + +Her walls are scatheless while her men remain. + +ATOSSA. + +Recount then how began the naval fight. + +MESSENGER. + +Lady, the origin of all our woes +Was the appearance of some evil power. +A man of Hellas from the Athenian fleet +Came forth unto thy son, King Xerxes, said +That, when the darkling shades of night came on, +His countrymen would flee, leaping aboard +Their ships, each as he might, to save their lives. +Which when King Xerxes heard, suspecting not +The Hellene's treachery nor the spite of heaven, +He gives this order to his admirals:-- +As soon as daylight faded from the earth, +And darkness overspread the face of heaven, +In three divisions our main force to range, +Barring each outlet and each water-way, +And with the rest to circle Ajax' Isle; +All being warned that if the Hellenes found +A part unguarded and escaped their doom, +Each with his head should pay the penalty. +This fiat he with heart uplift sent forth, +As little knowing what the gods ordained. +Obedient to the word, our seamen all +Prepared their evening meal, then every man +In order to the rowlock lashed his oar. +Soon as the light of evening died away +And night came on, each man who plied the oar +Went to his ship with all the men-at-arms, +And the word passed along the lines of war. +Then they put forth, each in his place assigned, +And through the live-long night the captains kept +Our weary seamen toiling at the oar. +So passed the hours of darkness, yet the fleet +Of Hellas showed no sign of stealthy flight. +But when the white steeds of returning day +Suffused the land and sea with orient light, +From the Hellenic fleet the hymn of war +Pealed forth in unison, and echo loud +Rang out in answer from the rocky isle. +Amazement on the host of Asia fell +And consternation, for no thought of flight +Was in that solemn chant, but courage high, +Desire of battle, hope of victory. +Then did the trumpet, thrilling, fire all hearts. +The word was given, and with concordant sweep +Their dashing oars at once upturned the brine, +And soon their whole armada was in sight. +The right wing first came forth in fair array, +The whole fleet followed and the shout was raised +Through all the lines, "On, sons of Hellas, on; +On, for the freedom of your fatherland, +Your wives, your children, your forefathers' graves, +The temples of your gods; all are at stake." +In answer rang on our side, loud and wide, +The Persian war-cry. Time to lose was none. +At once, encountering with their brazen beaks +The squadrons met. A ship of Hellas first +Charged a Phoenician galley and stove in +Her stern-works; general then the onset grew. +At first the prowess of our Persian host +Made head, but, crowded in the narrow strait, +Our galleys, powerless mutual aid to lend, +Dashed on their consorts with their brazen beaks, +And swept each other's banks of oars away. +Meanwhile the watchful foe, surrounding them, +Charged on the rout; ship after ship went down +Before him, and the sea was lost to sight +Beneath the drifting wrecks and floating dead. +Then all resistance ended, and our ships +Plied one and all their oars in panic flight. +The foe, as 'twere a haul of tunny fish, +With splintered oars and fragments of the wreck +Assailed and slaughtered them; the waters rang +With mingled cries of death and victory, +Till night's dark veil descending closed the scene. +The sum of our disasters, though I spoke +For ten long days, I never could unfold. +Know in a word, so vast a multitude +Has never fallen in one disastrous day. + +ATOSSA. + +Alas! a huge wave of calamity +Has broken on our universal realm. + +MESSENGER. + +Thou art but half way through this tale of woe, +For a disaster on our army fell +Which twice outweighed all this that I have told. + +ATOSSA. + +Can fortune's spite what thou hast told surpass? +Go on, recount this new calamity +Which in thy estimation outweighs all. + +MESSENGER. + +The very flower of all our Persian host, +The trusted pillars of our monarchy, +Have met a piteous and a shameful end. + +ATOSSA. + +Ah! woe is me for this dire history. +Recount, then, how our noblest warriors fell. + +MESSENGER. + +An isle there is in face of Salamis, +Small and without a haven, on whose strand +Dance-loving Pan his measure often treads. +Thither the King despatched these chosen bands +That when from sinking ships crews swam ashore, +They of their foes might make an easy prey, +And their friends rescue from a watery grave, +Ill the event foreseeing. For when heaven +Gave the Hellenes victory on the sea, +At once their bodies they in armour sheathed, +Leaped from their galleys forth, and all the isle +With arms encircled. Outlet for escape +Our hopeless bands had none. A ceaseless storm +Of stones was rained upon them, and the shafts, +Whistling from many a bowstring, scattered death. +At last, combining in one charge, the foe +Fell on them, stabbed them, hacked them limb from limb, +Nor stayed the butchery till the last was slain. +Xerxes, when he such utter ruin saw +From the high throne where, on an eminence +Hard by the sea, he overlooked the scene, +Sent forth a piercing cry and rent his clothes; +Then gave his troops the order to retreat +And headlong took to flight. Now thou dost know +The harvest and the aftermath of woe. + + + + +THE SEVEN AGAINST THEBES. + + +The unnatural brothers, Eteocles and Polynices, are competitors for +the lordship of Thebes. Eteocles is in possession. Polynices, having +married the daughter of Adrastus, King of Argos, leads an army, raised +by the help of his father-in-law, against Thebes. + +In this army there are seven champions. The Argive army is drawn out +in array against the city in seven divisions, each division facing one +of the seven gates of Thebes, and with a champion at its head. The +champions are described to Eteocles by a Theban, who has been sent to +watch the movements of the enemy. Under the name of Amphiaraus lurks a +description of Aristides "the just," the head of the conservative +party to which Aeschylus belonged, whose conscientiousness and +moderation are obliquely contrasted with the revolutionary violence +of the ultra-democratic party headed by Themistocles. The chorus +consists of Theban maidens. + + * * * * * + +_THE CHAMPIONS._ + +LINES 370-673. + +MESSENGER. + +The order of our foemen you shall hear, +And at which gate each champion has his post. +Tydeus stands ready at the Proetian gate, +Fuming, for still the seer forbids to ford +Ismenus, since the omens are not fair. +Thereat the chieftain, mad with warlike rage +As is a snake with heat at noonday, raves; +And on the prudent seer Oeclides heaps +Taunts of faint-heartedness and craven fear. +While thus he storms, wild on his helmet waves, +The shaggy crest threefold, and on his shield +The brazen bells ring out a fearful note. +Upon that shield a proud device he wears, +A firmament all luminous with stars, +While in the centre shines the moon full-orbed, +Empress of constellations, eye of night. +Thus in his boastful panoply he stalks +Along the river panting for the fray, +As a proud charger at the trumpet sound +Frets, paws the earth, and flecks his bit with foam. +Think whom thou hast to cope with this dread chief, +Who of that gate unbarred shall warder be. + +ETEOCLES. + +My spirit quails at no proud panoply. +Escutcheons wound not, nor will waving crests +Or clashing bells bite without thrust of spear. +This night of which thou tellest on his shield, +Albeit it blaze with all the stars of heaven, +May to the bearer's self prove ominous; +For if death's night should fall upon his eyes +His boastfulness will turn to prophecy, +And his device will have foreshown his doom. +To cope with Tydeus and that post to guard, +I send the gallant son of Astacus, +Whose noble blood is loyal to the rule +Of honour and abhors vainglorious words, +Whose chivalry fears nothing but reproach, +Sprung from that remnant of the Earth-born race, +Which the sword spared, a true son of the soil, +Melanippus. Ares' hand the die will cast, +But nature sends our soldier to the field +To drive the invader from his mother-land. + +CHORUS. + +Heaven shield our country's champion with its might, +Him who will combat for the right, +And guard our warriors all from perils of the fight. + +MESSENGER. + +Good fortune on thy chosen warder wait. +Before the Electran gate stands Capaneus, +Whose giant frame o'ertops e'en Tydeus' self. +His vaunts are more than mortal, and he hurls +Against our towers threats which may heaven forfend. +Be it the will of heaven or not, he vows +That he will storm this town, nor Zeus himself +With red right hand shall scare him from his prey. +Of lightnings or of thunderbolts he recks +No more than of the rays of noonday sun. +For his device he bears a naked man +With burning torch in hand, whose legend says +In golden letters, "I will fire this town." +Bethink thee whom thou hast this chief to mate, +Who without quailing will his vaunts withstand. + +ETEOCLES. + +Why, here we have gain added unto gain. +When pride and folly in the heart abide, +The tongue fails not their presence to betray. +Capaneus threatens what his hand would do, +Scorning the gods, and with unchastened lips, +Madly exulting, vents against high heaven +And heaven's high king his swelling blasphemies. +Surely I trust that on his impious head +The lightning shall be launched more fiery far +Than are the rays of any noonday sun. +To meet him with his braggart menaces +Stout Polyphontus goes, a gallant soul, +Who well can hold the post, so Artemis +And all protecting gods his arm will aid. +Tell us whose lot is at another gate. + +CHORUS. + +Perish the man who would lay low our towers; +Smite him with lightning, kindly powers, +Ere he can storm our home and spoil our virgin bowers. + +MESSENGER. + +Hear, then, who has his post at the next gate. +Eteocles is his name, him the third lot, +Forth from the brazen helmet leaping, set +To lead his band against the Eastern gate. +There to and fro he wheels his fiery steeds, +That pant in their caparisons to charge +The portal, and with snorting nostrils proud +Make uncouth music through their mouth-pieces. +Nor lowly the device upon his shield: +A man-at-arms is on a ladder seen +Scaling the wall of a beleaguered town, +And underneath the vaunting legend dares +Ares himself to beat back the assault. +Against this champion you must bid go forth +One that can save our town from slavery. + +ETEOCLES. + +He goes--is gone, with victory on his helm; +A chief whose boasting is in deeds, not words, +Megareus, of earth-born lineage, Creon's son. +Him shall no snortings of impetuous steeds +Scare from the gate, but either with his blood +He will repay the earth that gave him life, +Or both the warriors and the town to boot +Bear off and with the spoils adorn his home. +Give us some more vainglory; stint not speech. + +CHORUS. + +Good luck with him that guards my city go, +Ill luck with the o'erweening foe. +High is their boast; may Zeus, the avenger, lay them low. + +MESSENGER. + +At the fourth gate, where stands Athene's fane +Of Onke hight, another chief appears, +Towering with giant bulk--Hippomedon. +Broad as a threshing-floor his buckler is, +And terror seized me as he whirled it round. +Nor was it any common craftsman's hand +That wrought the emblem which that buckler bears, +A Typhon vomiting with fiery mouth, +Black clouds of smoke, the wavering mate of fire. +And all around his hollow buckler's rim +A coil of twining snakes is riveted. +Loud is his battle-cry. By Ares fired +He like a Maenad storms and raves for fight. +Against this champion's onset guard thee well; +Already rout is threatened at the gate. + +ETEOCLES. + +The deity herself that has her fane +Hard by the gates, abhorring insolence, +Will ward this deadly serpent from her brood. +But as our man, valiant Hyperbius, +The son of Oenops, to the lists has gone, +Ready at need to brave the risks of war, +In form, in spirit, and in arms alike +Reproachless. Hermes well has matched the pair. +For as each champion is the other's foe, +So are the gods that on their shields they bear: +Hippomedon has Typhon breathing fire, +But on the buckler of Hyperbius +Is Zeus the unconquered, thunderbolt in hand; +And who e'er knew the arm of Zeus to fail? +Such are the patron deities of whom +The weaker are the foe's, the mightier ours. +So will it fare with those they patronise, +If Zeus o'er Typhon has the mastery; +For Zeus, the saviour, on Hyperbius' shield +Blazoned, will save his liegeman in the fight. + +CHORUS. + +The foe of Zeus bearing that form of hate, +By gods and mortals reprobate, +The hell fiend soon, I trust, shall fall before the gate. + +MESSENGER. + +So may it be, now to the fifth I come +Whose station is at the Borraean gates, +Hard by the tomb that holds Amphion's dust. +This champion swears by what he higher deems +Than god and dearer than his eyes, his spear, +That he will Cadmus' city storm and sack +In heaven's despite. So vows the wood nymph's son, +That fair-faced stripling, scarcely yet a man, +For on his cheek still blooms the down of youth. +Marshal his mood and fierce his countenance, +And all unlike the maiden name he bears. +Nor does he lack his share of boastfulness, +For on the shield that with its brazen round +His body fenced, he bore our city's shame, +The rav'ning Sphynx, in burnished effigy +Empaled, and grasping in her felon claws +The limbs of a Cadmean citizen; +Which on the bearer drew a shower of darts. +Battle to huckster is not his intent, +Nor to have marched so far and marched in vain. +His name Parthenopaeus, Arcady +His home, Argos his nurse, whom to requite +He threatens that from which heaven save our towers. + +ETEOCLES. + +Yes, only let their thoughts be paid them home +[Footnote: Two lines in this speech appear to have been lost.] +By the just gods, they with their impious vaunts +Will be consumed and perish utterly. +To cope with thy Arcadian goes a man +Modest in speech but nowise slack in deed, +Actor, his brother of whom last I spake, +Who will not let a tongue without an arm +Within our gates rave to our overthrow, +Nor entrance give the foe, who on his shield +To flout us bears the hated effigy. +His Sphynx, midst rattling darts, will hardly thank +Him that advanced her to our battlements.-- +Heaven grant that as I say the event may be. + +CHORUS. + +Thy tidings pierce my fluttering breast, and fright +Makes all my tresses rise upright +At that fell foeman's vaunt; may heaven confound his spite. + +MESSENGER. + +Five were accursed; one righteous man succeeds +The seer Amphiaraus, good and brave. +His post is at the Homoloian gate. +Here he reproaches heaps on Tydeus' head, +Calling him murderer and the public bane, +Leader of Argos in all evil ways, +The Furies' pursuivant, henchman of death, +That has Adrastus to his ruin trained. +Thy brother too, stained by his father's fate, +Great Polynices, with accusing face +Turned heavenward, he upbraids and thus he speaks: +"Certes a deed it is to please the gods, +Fair to recount and glorious to hand down, +Thus thy own city to lay low and raze +Her temples with an alien soldiery. +What stream can wash away a mother's curse? +How shall thy country, captive to a foe +By thee set on, requite thee with her love? +For me, this hostile land must be my tomb +And be enriched with my prophetic bones. +Forward! I look for no inglorious grave." +Thus spake the seer as he before him threw +His glittering shield. On it was no device. +Foremost to be, not seem, was still his aim. +His soul is as a plough-land deep and rich, +From which a harvest of good counsels grows. +Against him send some worthy opposite. +He most is to be feared who fears the gods. + +ETEOCLES. + +Woe worth the day that links the righteous man +To the dark fortunes of iniquity. +In all the world is nothing so malign, +Of fruit so poisonous, as an evil friend. +One day shall ye behold the pious man, +Going on ship-board with an impious crew, +Sink amid sinners reprobate of heaven. +Another day shall ye behold the just, +In an outlawed and godless commonwealth, +Snared like their fellows in the net of doom +And struck by the avenging rod of heaven. +And so this seer, this son of Oecleës, +A wise, just, blameless, and god-fearing man, +A famous prophet, to an impious host +Against his better judgment misallied +And drawn to march with them whose bourne is hell, +With them must perish; such the stern decree. +Hardly, I think, he will assault the gate; +Not that his heart will faint or arm will fail, +But that he knows he on this field must die, +Unless Apollo's oracle prove false, +Which if he tells not, prudence seals his lips. +Yet shall our champion be stout Lasthenes, +A churlish gate-ward to intruders he, +An aged head upon a youthful frame. +Quick is his eye and nimble is his hand +From the shield's cover to dart forth the spear. +But who shall win the gods alone can tell. + +CHORUS. + +O hear our righteous prayer, ye heavenly powers, +The ruin be the foe's, not ours, +And may the thunder smite him who would storm our towers. + +MESSENGER. + +The chief whose post is at the seventh gate +Is thine own brother; hear his direful prayers, +His imprecations on our commonwealth. +He prays that he may mount our battlements, +Be there proclaimed our king, shout victory, +Meet thee, and slay thee, and insult thee slain, +Or, living, drive thee forth a banished man, +Disgracing thee as thou hast him disgraced. +With such fell words and adjurations dire +Of his paternal gods to hear his prayer, +Strong Polynices makes the field resound. +A shield he bears, fair-shaped and newly-wrought, +Whereon a twofold emblem is empaled: +A lady with a stately mien leads on +The golden likeness of a man-at-arms, +The legend says that Justice is her name +And she is bringing back a banished man +To claim his native city and his home. +[Footnote: Four lines, probably spurious, if not interpolated, are +here omitted.] + +ETEOCLES. + +O madness of the wicked, heaven-abhorred! +O hapless race of Oedipus my sire, +Alas! a father's curse is here fulfilled. +But now away with tears, away with wails, +Lest a worse cause of lamentation come. +For Polynices, all too truly named, +[Footnote: The last part of the name means _strife_.] +Soon shall he know what his device portends, +And whether golden letters on his shield, +Vaunt as they may, shall bring the boaster home. +Perchance if Justice, virgin child of Zeus, +Were in his thoughts and deeds, so it might be; +But neither when he issued from the womb, +Nor in his childhood's days, nor in his youth, +Nor since the beard has gathered on his chin, +Has Justice e'er vouchsafed a word to him. +Nor now, when on his native soil he treads +In enmity, is Justice at his side. +Nor could the deity deserve her name +If she could be a miscreant's paramour. +Herein I put my trust, and will myself +Accept this combat; better right has none; +Chieftains alike we meet, brethren we are +And deadly enemies. My armour, ho! + + + + +AGAMEMNON. + + +The only complete specimen of a trilogy extant is the "Oresteia" of +Aeschylus, comprising the "Agamemnon," the "Choephoroe" (Mourners), +and the "Eumenides" (Furies). In this series are presented the murder +of Agamemnon on his return from the conquest of Troy, by his queen, +Clytemnestra, and her paramour, Aegisthus; the slaying of Clytemnestra +and Aegisthus by the avenger of blood, Orestes, son of Agamemnon and +Clytemnestra, at the bidding of Apollo; the pursuit of Orestes as a +matricide by the Furies; and his final acquittal and restoration by +the favour of Apollo and Athene. The trilogy is full of political +sentiment and allusion. The last piece, "Eumenides," has a distinct +political purpose. In the murder of Agamemnon in his home, after his +return from his victory over the Asiatic enemies of Hellas, by +Aegisthus and Clytemnestra, the audience could hardly fail to see a +parallel to the persecution of Cimon, the hero of the conservative +party to which Aeschylus belonged, after his victories over the +Persians, by the leaders of the democratic party, Pericles and +Ephialtes. + + * * * * * + +_THE FALL OF TROY ANNOUNCED AT MYCENAE, WHERE AGAMEMNON'S PALACE IS, +BY BEACON FIRES._ + +LINES 1-39. + +THE WATCHMAN. + +Grant me, oh gods, deliverance from this toil, +This year-long watch, which, couched upon the roof +Of the Atridae, dog-like I have kept, +Scanning the nightly gatherings of the stars, +Those radiant potentates, that throned on high, +Lead on the changing seasons for mankind. +And now I still am looking for the sign, +The beacon light which is to flash from Troy +The tidings of the city's fall, for so +Ordains the will of our man-hearted queen. +Broken my rest, my couch is drenched with dew, +And by no pleasant dream is visited. +In place of slumber fear waits on me there, +So that my eyes can never close in sleep; +And if to sing or whistle I essay, +In hope to charm away my drowsiness, +Straightway I fall to weeping for this house, +That into evil hands of late has fallen. +Would but the light, that happy tidings bears, +Shine through the dark to end our sufferings. +_(Beacon light appears,)_ +Offspring of night, all hail! A glorious day +Thou dost to Argos bring, with many a dance +And song in honour of this victory. +Joy! joy! +I go to call on Agamemnon's queen +To leave her couch, and forthwith in her halls +Bid the glad voice of jubilation rise +To greet this beacon fire. If true it be +That Troy is taken, as the light proclaims, +My watch the highest throw of fortune's dice +Has cast, and with my lords all must be well. +No more I say, a heavy curb is laid +Upon my lips; these walls, if they had voice, +Would tell their secret; as for me, I speak +To those who know, to others I am mute. + + * * * * * + +_THE SACRIFICE OF IPHIGENIA._ + +The chorus recounts the sacrifice of Iphigenia, one of the train of +horrors connected with the doom of the house of Atreus. + +LINES 177-240. + +CHORUS. + +Wind-bound and suffering dearth, the Achaean fleet +O'er against Calchis lay. +On Aulis' tide-washed shore, +While from the Strymon gales, +Bearing delay and famine on their wing, +Bane of the mariner, +Wasting both hull and rope, +Were wearing out the flower of Argive youth. +Then did the seer proclaim +For that unwelcome wind +A new and cruel cure +In name of Artemis. +Which, hearing, the Atridae with their staves +Smote on the ground and wept. + +Then spake the elder King: +"To disobey were dire, +Yet dire it is to slay +My child, the pride and beauty of my home, +And at the altar stain +A father's hand with blood of virgin sacrifice. +Which way is not despair? +How can I prove disloyal to the host, +And this alliance lose? +If for this sacrifice of virgin life, +The wind to lay, heaven calls +So sternly, I obey." + +Fate's yoke when he had donned, +Over his spirit came +A dark, unholy change; +Thenceforth he doffed all pity and remorse. +From the heart of man delusion strong, +Parent of evil, casts out virtuous fear. +Unmoved, he slew his child a war to aid +Waged for a woman's wrong +Upon the fleet's behalf. +Her prayers, her calling on her father's name, +Her virgin youth, +Those royal warriors held of no account. +Prayer said, her father bade the ministers +Lift her that, fainting, in her robes sank down +Upon the altar, as it were a kid, +And guard upon her beauteous lips to set +Of forceful silence, lest +A curse might issue from them on the house. +Letting her saffron veil fall on the ground, +She smote each minister of sacrifice +With piteous glances, mute +As is a picture, and in vain essayed +To speak. She many a time +In hospitable hall +Had sung, and with her innocent, chaste voice +Wished to her sire health and prosperity. +What then ensued I saw not nor recount. +The seer's behest was done. + + * * * * * + +_THE MEETING OF AGAMEMNON AND CLYTAEMNESTRA._ + +LINES 828-947. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Friends, aged citizens of Argos here, +I will not shrink from speaking of my love, +Since years wear off a woman's bashfulness. +Myself alone can tell the life I led +While my lord lay before the walls of Troy. +Sad, passing sad, the lot of woman left +Lorn of her consort in the lonely home, +And hearing day by day reports of ill; +Every new comer bringing evil news, +And the last worse than him that went before. +Had my lord met all wounds that rumour gave, +His body had been but one net of wounds; +Had he, as oft as rumour blew him, died, +He must have been a three-lived Geryon, +And thrice put on a shroud of funeral earth +Above him, reckoning not the earth below, +Thrice dead, and in three several graves interred. +Driven to despair mid all these dark reports, +By hanging oft I sought to end my days, +And was by others saved and forced to live. +Hence is it that thy child, pledge of our love, +Orestes, is not here to greet his sire, +As had been meet. Let not that trouble thee. +Strophios the Phocian took the boy in trust, +Thine ancient friend in arms, forewarning us +That troublous times might come, should aught befall +My lord, and the unbridled multitude +O'erthrow the senate, as mankind are wont +To trample on the fallen. 'Tis truth I tell. +The very fountains of my tears are dry, +Sorrow no drop hath left, my eyes are sore +Through my night watchings for the beacon light +That should bring news of thee, but brought it not. +A gnat's light whirring broke the dream of thee +That in an hour compressed an age of woe. +Now all this past, from carking sorrow free, +I hail my lord, the watchdog of our fold, +The ship's main stay, the pillar that upbears +A lofty roof, dear as an only child, +Welcome as land to seamen tossed at sea, +As cheerful day after the stormiest night, +As well-spring to the thirsty traveller. +Sweet after careful stress is careless ease. +Such is my salutation to my lord, +Which should not draw on us the evil eye. +Enough we've borne already. Now, beloved, +Step from thy chariot; yet not on the earth +Shall Ilium's glorious conqueror set his foot. +Haste, haste, ye handmaidens, to whom the charge +Was given to spread the ground with tapestry, +And make a purple pathway for my lord, +Whom justice brings to his unlooked for home. +For aught beside, care, lovingly awake, +The gods so willing, shall good order take. + +AGAMEMNON. + +Daughter of Leda, guardian of my home, +Thy speech is as my absence, long drawn out. +Well measured praise from other lips must come; +I pray thee stint thy woman's blandishments, +Nor, like some proud barbarian's minion vile, +Crawl to my feet with abject flatteries. +I would not have thy draperies on me draw +The evil eye; to gods such state belongs, +Not mortals; for a mortal thus to tread +On broidery were to tempt the wrath of heaven. +Pay to me honours human, not divine. +Foot-cloths or broidery need I none to tell +What fame will voice aloud. Discretion still +Is the best gift of heaven, and he alone +Is truly blest who prospers to the end. +Let but this fortune hold, I've naught to fear. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Yet herein yield to her that loves thee well. + +AGAMEMNON. + +Know that I will not swerve from my resolve. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Is it some vow, vowed in an hour of fear? + +AGAMEMNON. + +I well knew my own mind when thus I spoke. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Had Priam conquered, what would he have done? + +AGAMEMNON. + +He, certes, would have trod on tapestry. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Be not affrighted by the tongues of men. + +AGAMEMNON. + +Yet is the people's voice a mighty power. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Who shrinks from envy dares not to be great. + +AGAMEMNON + +To love contention is not womanly. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA + +Yet the victorious can afford defeat. + +AGAMEMNON. + +Dost thou, too, prize defeat as victory? + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Defeat or victory, yield thee at my prayer. + +AGAMEMNON. + +So be it, an thou wilt. Let some one loose +My sandals, lest if, proudly shod with these, +I tread a path so costly, I may draw, +Presumptuous, from above the evil eye. +Great shame it were our substance thus to waste, +Trampling on costly web with sandaled feet. +Of that enough. Now take this stranger in +(_Pointing to Cassandra._) +In kindly wise; who gently use their power +Shall merit mercy in the eye of heaven. +Misfortune, not misdoing, makes the slave. +This damsel, choicest flower of all we won, +The army's gift to me, have I brought home. +Now let me, since my will has bent to thine, +Walk over purple to my royal hall. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +There is a sea, there is a boundless sea, +And in its depths is gendered purple dye +Of costliest kind for vestments numberless. +Of this, the gods be thanked, our palace holds +Abundance, want or stint is there unknown. +Purple enow would I have gladly given +To trample in the mire, had oracles +Enjoined to pay such ransom for thy life. +With thee unto the leafless trunk has come +A leafy shelter from the dog-star's heat; +Since thy return to thy beloved hearth, +Our wintry frost shall yield to summer's sun, +And coolness, in the heat that turns the grape, +Reign in the house whose head is there once more. +Zeus, father in whose hands all issues are, +Give issue to thy counsels and my prayer. + + * * * * * + +_CASSANDRA'S PROPHECY._ + +LINES 1149-1391. + +CASSANDRA. + +Now shall my oracle no more peer forth +As from her virgin veil a bashful bride; +It shall grow clearer as the sky is cleared +By the brisk wind, and like a sunlit wave +Shall mount the billows of calamity. +No more in riddles will I prophesy. +Follow and bear me witness as I hunt, +Upon the trail of immemorial crime. +Within this house a company abides, +Singing in unison no mirthful strain, +A band of revellers that, to fire its heart, +Hath quaffed, not wine, but blood of murdered men, +The Furies that shall never quit these gates. +A hymn they sing, within the haunted hall, +Of the primeval curse, and tell in turn +What loathly vengeance paid a brother's shame. +[Footnote: Alluding to the banquet of Thyestes.] +Say, does my arrow miss or hit the mark? +Am I a begging, babbling soothsayer? +Bear witness on thy oath how well I know, +Untaught, the sinful record of this house. + +CHORUS. + +What virtue hath an oath's solemnity +To make wrong right? Amazement fills my soul +To hear a stranger from beyond the sea +Thus hit the truth as though thou hadst been here. + +CASSANDRA. + +Apollo bade me be a prophetess. + +CHORUS. + +Was the god smitten with a mortal love? + +CASSANDRA. + +Shame ever to this hour hath sealed my lips. + +CHORUS. + +Prosperity is always delicate. + +CASSANDRA. + +A wooer he who well could touch my heart. + +CHORUS. + +Were children then begotten of your love? + +CASSANDRA. + +I broke my plighted troth to Loxias. + +CHORUS. + +When thou already hadst received the gift? + +CASSANDRA. + +Yea; I foretold my country all its woes. + +CHORUS. + +How was it Loxias failed to punish thee? + +CASSANDRA. + +My punishment was ne'er to be believed. + +CHORUS. + +To us what thou foreshow'st seems all too true. + +CASSANDRA. + +Once more prophetic pangs come over me. +Mark ye those children on the palace there, +In aspect like the spectral shapes of dreams? +Meseems they by a kinsman's sword were slain. +See, in their hands they bear a loathsome feast, +The piteous flesh of which their father ate. +Vengeance is coming, yonder in the lair +A lion lurks, a coward skulking beast, +Plotting against my late returned lord. +My lord, I say, for slavery is my doom. +The army's chief that o'erthrew Ilium +Knows little what yon shameless paramour, +After her long and so fair-seeming speech, +Is bent to do in an accursed hour, +Like a fell fiend lurking in ambush there. +O crime of crimes, a woman slays her mate,-- +What can I call her? The most poisonous snake; +A Scylla, with her lair among the rocks, +Lying in wait for luckless mariners; +Death's dam, against her kin implacably +Breathing her venom. What a shout she raised +Of exultation, as for battle won! +She feigns rejoicing at her lord's return. +Believe or disbelieve me; naught I care +That which must come, must come. Thou soon shalt see +And rue the truth of this my prophecy. + +CHORUS. + +Thyestes, feasted with his children's flesh, +Shuddering, I understood, and am appalled +At hearing all so painted to the life. +But for the rest, I wander from the course. + +CASSANDRA. + +I say thou shalt see Agamemnon die. + +CHORUS. + +Hush, hapless maid, speak no ill-omened words. + +CASSANDRA. + +Place for well-omened words this work has none. + +CHORUS. + +Not if it come to pass, which heaven forfend. + +CASSANDRA. + +While thou art praying they prepare to smite. + +CHORUS. + +Where is the man to do so foul a deed? + +CASSANDRA. + +Ill hast thou understood my prophecy. + +CHORUS. + +By whom and how thy words have not revealed. + +CASSANDRA. + +And yet I know too well thy country's tongue. + +CHORUS. + +So do our prophets, yet their words are dark. + +CASSANDRA. + +Ah, me! how fierce the fire, it fills my veins. +Spare me, Apollo, god of Lycia, spare. +Yon lioness that, since her royal mate +Departed, with a caitiff wolf has lain, +Will slay me, and as one that poison brews +Will in the caldron cast her jealousy, +And while she whets the knife to slay her lord +Say she takes vengeance for his lawless love. +Why do I bear on me these mockeries, +This prophet's wand, this fillet round my neck? +Go, lead the way to death; I follow soon; +Go, and adorn some other curse than me. +Behold Apollo's self is stripping me +Of my prophetic garb, and in that garb +Already has he, with unpitying eyes, +Seen me and mine the foeman's laughing-stock. +I had to bear the name of tramp, be spurned +As a poor famished beggar on the street. +And now the prophet to unprophet me +Has led me into this decoy of death, +Where for the altars of my sire, the block +Of butchery soon must my hot life-blood drink. +Yet shall we not fall unavenged of heaven. +Another minister of justice comes, +His sire's avenger on the womb that bore him. +A wanderer banished from his native land, +He shall return to put the coping stone +On murder's pile; for so the gods have sworn, +And his fall'n father's hand shall beckon him. +But why should I, forlorn, bemoan my fate, +Since I have seen Ilium, my fatherland, +Faring as it has fared, and they who dwelt +Therein so worsted in the court of heaven? +Be it accomplished, to my doom I go. +Hear me, ye gates of death, sure be the stroke, +That easily with no long agony +My blood may flow, and the last sleep be mine. + +CHORUS. + +O maiden, thrice unhappy, yet inspired, +If truly, as thy long address imports, +Thou dost foresee thy fate, what bids thee go +As goes a doomed steer to the sacrifice? + +CASSANDRA. + +Friends, there is no escaping by delay. + +CHORUS. + +And yet of times to die the last is best. + +CASSANDRA. + +The day has come; naught shall I gain by flight. + +CHORUS. + +Great-hearted maiden, strong is thy resolve. + +CASSANDRA. + +Not on the happy is such praise bestowed. + +CHORUS. + +Yet to die gloriously is happiness. + +CASSANDRA. + +Father, alas, for thee and thy brave sons! + +CHORUS. + +How now? What fearful object meets thine eye? + +CASSANDRA. + +Ah, me! Ah, me! + +CHORUS. + +What means thy shriek? What phantom dost thou see? + +CASSANDRA. + +There is a smell of murder from that house. + +CHORUS. + +Nay, 'tis the smell of household sacrifice. + +CASSANDRA. + +It is the odour of a charnel-house. + +CHORUS. + +No savour that of Syrian frankincense. + +CASSANDRA. + +I go my own and Agamemnon's dirge +To chant within the halls. Good-bye to life. +Strangers, alas! +Not like a foolish bird scared at the bush +Am I. Bear witness, when I am no more, +When for my woman's blood a woman dies, +And for a man ill-wed a man is slain; +With my last breath I crave of ye this boon. + +CHORUS. + +I weep to see thee going to thy doom. + +CASSANDRA. + +Once more I fain would speak; not to renew +Weak wailings, but to call on yonder sun +And bid him bring the avenger to requite +The cruel murderess of a poor weak slave. +Alas! for man, if in his prosperous hour, +Fate faintly limns the shape of happiness, +Soon comes the sponge and wipes the picture out; +And sad is the beginning, worse the end. + + * * * * * + +_CASSANDRA'S PROPHECY FULFILLED_. + +The doorway of the palace opens and reveals Clytaemnestra within the +portal standing over the corpse of Agamemnon. She has slain him with +an axe in the bath, having entangled him in a sleeveless robe. + +LINES 1343-1554. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Much did I say before to serve the time +Which now to contradict I think no shame. +How else could hate encircle with its toils +The enemy that was a seeming friend, +So that the prey might not o'erleap the net? +Old is the quarrel; over my revenge +Long have I brooded, now it comes at last. +Here where I stand the deed of death was done, +And I so managed, I deny it not, +That he could neither fly nor fend the blow. +As he had been a fish I round him cast, +Like a close net, a rich but deadly robe. +Twice did I strike, twice did he groan, then sank; +And as he lay another stroke I gave, +To make the lucky number, and commend +His soul to Hades, guardian of the dead. +So did his angry spirit pass away, +While over me he threw a jet of blood, +Which gladdened me as doth the rain from heaven +The corn-field in the swelling of the ear. +Elders of Argos, hear! This have I done, +And in this glory, take it as ye will. +To pour a glad libation on the corpse, +Did piety permit, were more than just. +He mixed a bowl of curses for the house, +And what he mixed himself came home to drink. + +CHORUS. + +Amazement fills us at thy hardihood +That thus dost triumph o'er thy murdered lord. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Ye think to deal with a weak woman's heart, +But I, with soul unquailing, to your face +Tell you, approve or damn me as you may, +Here Agamemnon lies, my lord that was, +A corpse that is, the work of this right hand, +Its righteous work. There is no more to say. + +CHORUS. + +Lady, what baleful herb +Of earth or potion dire +Drawn from the flowing ocean, hadst thou drunk, +That on thee thou hast brought the public curse? +Thou hast cast off, cut off; +Thyself will be cast out, +A thing of loathing to our citizens. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Yea, thy award to me is banishment, +And execration, and the people's curse. +But no such measure didst thou mete this man +When recklessly, as it had been a beast, +While in his pastures sheep were numberless, +He sacrificed his child, the dearest child +That I had borne, to charm the Thracian gales. +Him from the land to drive for his foul deed +Thy justice moved thee not. But now I come +Before the bar, the judge is merciless. +I warn thee that thy threats are launched at one +Who, if thou canst in equal combat win, +Will yield; but, should heaven otherwise ordain, +Thou may'st too late be put to wisdom's school. + +CHORUS. + +High, lady, is thy heart, +And haughty is thy speech; +Thy soul with murder is intoxicate; +Upon thy brow is the red stain of blood +Unexpiated. Yet +Wilt thou, of aid bereft, +As thou hast struck, feel the avenging blow. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Hear while once more my solemn oath I pledge. +By the accomplished vengeance of my child, +By those dread powers whose sacrifice lies there, +I look not to see fear within my halls, +While on the hearth Aegisthus lights the fire +And to his mate is true as he is now. +With him for shield I shall not be afraid. +Low lies the man that did betray my love, +That toy of each Chryseis in the camp; +And with him lies this captive soothsayer, +His faithful leman and his sea-mate too. +For what they did the pair have dearly paid. +One there ye see, the other like a swan, +When she had sung her dying melody, +Fell in her paramour's embrace and lent +Fresh relish to my feast of happiness. + +CHORUS. + +Would that a death, painless, not lingering, +Would on me bring the everlasting sleep, +Since my kind guard, +That for a woman's sake so much +Braved, by a woman's hand has met his end. +O Helen, thou for whom beneath Troy's wall +Myriads were doomed to die, +At last through thee the gout +Of blood which in this house +Was uneffaced, fresh murder has begot. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Pray not for death to come +In ire at this my deed, +With Helen be not wroth +Because her murderous face +Many a bold Danaan slew +And woe unmeasured brought. + +CHORUS. + +Fiend, that dost haunt the hall +Of the Tantalidae, +And in a woman showed +A man's strength to my bane, +See how upon the dead, +Perched like a raven dire, +She chants her impious strain. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Now speakest thou aright, +Calling upon the fiend +That raveneth this race. +From him proceeds that lust +Congenital of blood +That ever craves fresh gore. + +CHORUS. + +A demon dire and fell +Thou to this house +Would'st in dark strain assign. +Ah, me! All comes from Zeus, +Of all things source and cause, +Without whom naught befalls +Mankind. Of all this train +Of woes, what was there not by heaven decreed? +How shall I wail thee, king, +How vent my loyal grief? +In this fell spider's web thou liest low, +Expiring by a stroke +Accursed as no freeman ought to lie, +By treachery struck down +With its two-handed axe. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Charge not on me this deed. +Imagine not that I +Am Agamemnon's queen. +Like to the dead man's wife +The fiend that vengeance takes +For Atreus' ghastly feast +Here hath repaid the debt, +A man for infants slain. + +CHORUS. + +Oh, whither can I turn, +In vain my mind I task. +The house thus wrecked, despair lies every way. +I shudder at this pouring rain of blood, +No more by drops it falls. +Fate for some other murderous deed +On a new whetstone sharpens her knife's edge. +Would earth had swallowed me +Ere in the silver vessel of the bath +I saw my king laid low. +Who will his funeral rites +Perform? Wilt thou be able unabashed, +Having thy husband slain, +To wail for him, and to his injured shade +Requital for such wrong +By unloved service pay? + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Not unto thee belongs +This care. 'Twas we that slew, +And we will bury him. +Not from his house shall go +His mourning train. +By the swift-flowing stream +Of lamentation his loved child, +Iphigenia, shall her father meet, +Embrace and fondly kiss. + + + + +THE CHOEPHOROE + + +Electra, the daughter of Agamemnon, has been living beneath the hated +domination of Aegisthus and Clytemnestra, the murderer and murderess +of her father. Her brother Orestes, the avenger of blood and the hope +of her house, has been living in banishment, while she has been +looking and longing for his return. At length he returns with his +faithful comrade Pylades, and intimates his presence by placing a lock +of his hair as his offering on Agamemnon's tomb. Electra announces the +discovery to the Chorus of Trojan women, who bear her libation for her +to the tomb of her father, and from whom the play is named. + + * * * * * + +_ORESTES DISCOVERS HIMSELF TO ELECTRA._ + +LINES 158-274. + +ELECTRA. + +My father's grave has drunk the holy wine; +Now lend your ears to the strange news I bring. + +CHORUS. + +Speak on, my heart thrills with expectancy. + +ELECTRA. + +I found this lock of hair upon the tomb. + +CHORUS. + +Who was it, man or maid, that laid it there? + +ELECTRA. + +This to divine were not so difficult. + +CHORUS. + +Old as I am on thy young lips I hang. + +ELECTRA. + +From what head could the lock be cut but mine? + +CHORUS. + +They that should offer mourning locks are foes. + +ELECTRA. + +This lock of hair is wondrous like in hue. + +CHORUS. + +Like to whose hair? 'Tis this I long to learn. + +ELECTRA. + +Like, passing like, to hers that speaks to thee. + +CHORUS. + +Think'st thou Orestes sent it secretly? + +ELECTRA. + +The lock in hue is like no hair but his. + +CHORUS. + +But how could he adventure to come here? + +ELECTRA. + +Perchance he sent the offering to his sire. + +CHORUS. + +This will not staunch the fountain of my woes, +If he is ne'er to set foot in our land. + +ELECTRA. + +Not less through me a tide of passion rolled, +And as it were an arrow pierced my breast, +While from my eyes coursed down my thirsty cheeks +The gushing tears, till sorrow's fount was dry, +As on this lock I looked. No citizen +Of ours could own it saving one alone; +Nor was it shred by her the murderess +That but usurps a mother's hallowed name, +To us, her children, so unmotherly. +Surely to say what I would fain believe, +That this fair offering from Orestes comes +Dearest of men, I dare not, yet I hope. +Oh, would it had a voice to speak to me, +And so to end distraction in my soul; +That I might cast it scornfully away, +If it were taken from a hated head. +If from a head I love, that it might pay +With me sad homage to my father's tomb. + +CHORUS. + +The heavenly powers on whom we call well know +With what a sea, like storm-tossed mariners, +We battle; yet, if destiny be kind, +From a small seed a mighty tree may spring. + +ELECTRA. + +Then, for a second sign, foot-prints I find +Like to my own in shape and measurement. +For there were two imprints, one of his own, +The other of a fellow-traveller's foot; +And those of his own foot, compared with mine, +In their whole shape exactly correspond. +I am all anguish and bewilderment. + +ORESTES (_suddenly entering_). + +Pray for whatever else thy soul desires, +And may a like fulfilment crown the prayer. + +ELECTRA. + +What prayer of mine now have the gods fulfilled? + +ORESTES. + +Whom thou didst yearn to see is now before thee. + +ELECTRA. + +Whom I did yearn to see? What was his name? + +ORESTES. + +Orestes, by thy craving lips pronounced. + +ELECTRA. + +In what respect, then, has my prayer been heard? + +ORESTES. + +The bearer of that name beloved am I. + +ELECTRA. + +Stranger, is this some trick thou playest on me? + +ORESTES. + +An 'twere, I should conspire against myself. + +ELECTRA. + +Sure thou art sporting with my misery. + +ORESTES. + +Sporting with thine were sporting with my own. + +ELECTRA. + +And is it to Orestes' self I speak? + +ORESTES. + +Orestes' self, whom seeing thou dost doubt +Thine eyesight, though a lock of hair or prints +Of feet that tallied with thine own could raise +My apparition in thy fluttering heart. +Apply the lock which tallies with thy hair +To this my head from which it was cut off. +Look on this robe, the work of thine own hand, +And trace the figures which thy shuttle wrought. +But calm thee, let not joy distract thy soul, +For near of kin we know is far from kind. + +ELECTRA. + +O hope and darling of my father's house, +Seed of redemption, watered with my tears, +Trust thy right arm; it shall win back thy home. +Thou art the fourfold object of my love: +Electra has no father left but thee; +No mother--hateful she who bears that name; +Thou art to me in my lost sister's place; +The brother thou that dost my name uphold; +Only let might and justice and the king +Of gods and men be with thee in the fight. + +ORESTES. + +Zeus, Zeus, look down on what is passing here, +Take pity on the eagle's brood, whose sire, +Trapped in the coils of a most deadly snake, +Was stung to death and left his orphan brood +A prey to hunger. For no strength have they +To bring the quarry home, as did their sire. +In me and my Electra here thou seest +Two eaglets of their sire alike bereft, +And outcasts both from what was once their home. + +ELECTRA. + +High honour did our father pay to thee, +Rich gifts he gave thy shrine; his offspring gone, +Who will be left to heap thy altars more? +Thy race of eagles lost, thou wilt have none +To be the herald of thy will to man. +This royal stock blasted, thou wilt have none +To tend thy shrine on days of sacrifice. +Watch o'er us, and the house that now seems fallen +Past hope, may to its ancient greatness rise. + +CHORUS. + +My children, of your line sole trust and stay, +Be silent lest your words be overheard, +And borne by some loose babbler to the ear +Of those in power, whom soon I hope to see +Laid smouldering on the pitchy funeral pile. + +ORESTES. + +My trust is in Apollo's oracle +That bade me set forth on this enterprise, +With high command and threats of dire disease +To gripe my vitals if I failed to wreak +Vengeance upon my father's murderers, +Enjoining me to slay as they had slain, +Taking no fine as quittance for his blood. +For this was I to answer with my life. +And as I would escape the penalties +[Footnote: This passage is corrupt or dislocated, and perplexes the +commentators. I have tried to give the general sense.] +That injured and neglected ghosts demand; +As fell diseases that with cankering maw +Eat the distempered flesh from off the bones, +Madness and panic fears that haunt by night; +Then banishment from human intercourse; +From the libation, from the loving cup, +And from the altar, whence a father's wrath +Unseen should drive the recreant; at the last +Death without honour and without a friend.-- +Think ye that I such oracles could slight? +And if I did, the deed must still be done; +For many motives join to set me on: +The gods command, my murdered father calls +For vengeance, and my desperate need impels; +All bid me save our famous citizens, +Troy's glorious conquerors, from the base yoke +Of yonder pair of women; for his heart +Is womanish, if not, we soon will know. + + * * * * * + +_CLYTAEMNESTRA PLEADS TO HER SON ORESTES FOR HER LIFE IN VAIN._ + +LINES 860-916. + +SERVANT. + +Alas! my lord is slain, my lord is slain, +My lord is slain; Aegisthus is no more. +Haste and unbar the woman's chamber, haste; +Be stirring, or your aid will come too late. +What, ho! what, ho! +I shout unto the sleeping or the deaf. +Whither has Clytaemnestra gone? What does she? +Now is the queen on peril's sharpest edge, +And like to fall by the avenger's sword. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +How now? What means this shouting in the house? + +SERVANT. + +It means that dead men kill and live men die. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Ah me! Too well I can thy riddle guess; +By treason as we slew, we shall be slain. +Fetch me the axe, which well this hand can wield, +And we will strike for death or victory, +For to this mortal issue have we come. + +ORESTES. + +'Tis thee I seek; thy leman has enough. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Ah me! Aegisthus, then, my love, is slain. + +ORESTES. + +Thy love is he? Then shalt thou share his tomb, +And be his faithful consort to the end. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Oh, stay thy hand, my child, and spare this breast, +On which so often thou didst slumbering lie +And suck with baby lips the milk of life. + +ORESTES. + +Say, Pylades, shall nature's plea be heard? + +PYLADES. + +Half of Apollo's best has been fulfilled; +Think on the other half and on thine oath. +Better defy the world than brave the gods. + +ORESTES. + +Thou hast well spoken, and I do assent. + +(_To_ CLYTAEMNESTRA.) + +Come in; I'll lay thee at thy leman's side. +He to my father living was preferred, +And now in death his partner thou shalt be, +The guerdon due to thy adulterous love. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +I nursed thee; let me at thy side grow old. + +ORESTES. + +What, dwell with thee, my father's murderess? + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Blame destiny, my son, for what I did. + +ORESTES. + +Blame destiny for what I now must do. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Hast thou no reverence for a mother's prayer? + +ORESTES. + +That mother ruthlessly cast off her child. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Not cast thee off; but sent thee to a friend. + +ORESTES. + +Twice was I sold, although a freeman born. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +What was the price that I received for thee? + +ORESTES. + +To tell thee in plain words I am ashamed. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Tell it, but tell thy sire's transgression too. + +ORESTES. + +Home-keeping wives should not the toilers chide. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +'Tis sad for wives to lie without their mates. + +ORESTES. + +Yet wives are fed by those that sweat abroad. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +It seems, my child, thou wilt thy mother slay. + +ORESTES. + +Not on my head but thine thy blood will be. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Strike, and a mother's Furies follow thee. + +ORESTES. + +A father's will, if I withhold the blow. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Deaf as the grave is he to whom I wail. + +ORESTES. + +As died my father thou art doomed to die. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +My womb too truly has a serpent borne. + +ORESTES. + +No lying prophet was thy dream of fear. +Unnatural was thy deed, so be thy doom. + + + + +THE EUMENIDES + + +The ancient Council of the Areopagus, like other primeval councils, +was at once political and judicial. It was the venerable stronghold of +the old Athenian and conservative party to which Aeschylus belonged, +and was at this time being attacked by the radical party under +Pericles and Ephialtes. To save it from its enemies by awakening +national sentiment on its behalf, Aeschylus presents it as the high +court of justice selected on account of its supreme moral authority +totry the grand mythical case of Orestes arraigned by the Furies for +matricide. There is also a good word for the diplomatic connection +between Argos, represented by Orestes, and Athens. Orestes by Apollo's +advice has appealed to the Areopagus. The court consists of Athenian +citizens. Athene in person presides. The Furies appear as the +accusers. They form the Chorus, which in this case plays a part +in the drama. Apollo appears as a witness for his accused votary, +and as responsible for the act which he had commanded. The result is +the acquittal of Orestes by the presiding goddess. The proceedings are +opened by Athene. + + * * * * * + +LINES 536-747. + +ATHENE. + +Herald, proclaim good order through the host, +Then let the loud Tyrrhenian trumpet's blast +Thrill forth its warning to the multitude. +'Tis meet that while the judges take their seats +All citizens keep silence and give ear +To that which now and for all time to come +I have ordained, that justice may be done. + +CHORUS OF FURIES. + +(_Seeing_ APOLLO _approach_.) + +Rule, Lord Apollo, o'er thy own domain. +What portion hast thou in this cause of ours? + +APOLLO. + +First, as a witness in this cause I come, +To say this man with me took sanctuary, +And that I cleansed him of the stain of blood. +Next, as a party to this cause I come, +Since I was the prime mover of the deed. +Call on the cause, then, and let right be done. + +ATHENE. + +The cause is called, and the word rests with you. + +(_To the_ FURIES.) + +Let the accuser first be heard and lay +The cause before the court, for so is best. + +CHORUS. + +Many we are, yet brief our speech shall be; +Do thou to questions plain, plain answer give; +And tell us first, didst thou thy mother slay? + +ORESTES. + +I slew my mother, and deny it not. + +CHORUS. + +One bout, then, of our wrestling match is won. + +ORESTES. + +Too soon thou boastest; not yet am I thrown. + +CHORUS. + +Now must thou tell us how the deed was done. + +ORESTES. + +I drew my sword and smote her that she died. + +CHORUS. + +Who was it counselled thee, and set thee on? + +ORESTES. + +His oracle that is my witness here. + +CHORUS. + +Sayest thou the prophet counselled matricide? + +ORESTES. + +He did, and so far I repent me not. + +CHORUS. + +Thou wilt when in the judgment thou art cast. + +ORESTES. + +No fear have I; aid from the dead will come. + +CHORUS. + +Aid from the dead to thee, a matricide? + +ORESTES. + +My mother bore a double taint of crime. + +CHORUS. + +How doubly? let the judges understand. + +ORESTES. + +She slew her consort and my sire in one. + +CHORUS. + +Her death has made her peace, but thou still liv'st. + +ORESTES. + +Why did ye not pursue her while she lived? + +CHORUS. + +Because she was not kin to him she slew. + +ORESTES. + +Am I of kin, then, to my mother's blood? + +CHORUS. + +Wretch, wast thou not beneath her girdle borne, +And dar'st thou to forswear thy mother's blood? + +ORESTES. + +Apollo, now stand forth and testify. +Say, was my mother rightly slain or not? +The deed itself is not by us denied; +Whether't was rightly done or not, judge thou, +That I may plead thy sentence to this court. + +APOLLO. + +I will before this high Athenian court +Bear witness true: the prophet cannot lie; +For never in my seat of prophecy +Spoke I of man, of woman, or of state, +Aught else than the Olympian father bade. +I pray you, mark the force of this my plea, +And yield obedience to the will of Zeus, +For Zeus is mightier than a judge's oath. + +CHORUS. + +Zeus, as thou sayest, inspired this oracle +Which bade Orestes, for his father's death +Take vengeance, reckless of a mother's claim. + +APOLLO. + +'Twas different when a noble warrior fell, +One that the heaven-entrusted sceptre swayed, +Slain by a woman's hand, not with the bow, +As slays the fierce far-darting Amazon, +But in such wise as Pallas and the court +Impanelled to decide this cause shall hear.-- +As from the war he happily returned +She met him with perfidious flatteries. +Then in his bath, as to the laver's edge +He came, she, like a canopy, outspread +A robe and smote him tangled in its folds. +By such foul practice died a man of all +Worshipped, the puissant leader of our host. +Such was his murderess; well the tale may touch +The hearts of those who shall pass judgment here. + +CHORUS. + +Zeus, then, it seems, is on the father's side, +Yet Zeus his aged father put in bonds. +How squares that story with thy present plea? +I pray the court to hark to his reply. + +APOLLO. + +O hateful brood, abhorred of all the gods, +He who is bound may be unbound again. +There's many a way to set a captive free; +But when the dust has drunk the blood of man, +Death knows no cure or resurrection. +For death my father hath no remedy, +All else he with his will omnipotent +Sorts as him lists, exhaustless in his power. + +CHORUS. + +Suppose yon wretch acquitted on thy plea, +Can he, polluted with a mother's blood, +At Argos dwell and in his father's home? +What public altar can he use, what guild +Of kinsmen will admit him to their rite? + +APOLLO. + +With this, too, will I deal, and mark me well, +The mother is not parent to the child, +But only fosters that she hath conceived. +The male is the true parent, and his mate +But holds the germ, so it 'scape blight, in trust. +This can I prove by puissant argument. +A father sans a mother there may be. +There stands the daughter of Olympian Zeus, +She ne'er was nurtured in the darkling womb, +Yet could no god in heaven beget her peer. +Pallas, as always my endeavour is +Thy city and thy people to exalt, +So I have sent this suppliant to thy hearth, +That he might be thy ever faithful friend, +And thou might'st count him as a sure ally, +Him and his race hereafter, and this bond +Unbroken through all ages might endure. + +ATHENE. + +The pleadings now are ended, and I call +Upon the panel for a righteous vote. + +CHORUS. + +On our side the last arrow has been shot; +We wait but for the verdict of the court. + +ATHENE. + +What order can I take that will content ye? + +CHORUS. + +Ye all have heard the pleadings in this cause; +Now in your hearts let justice rule the vote. + +ATHENE. + +Ye men of Athens, hear what is ordained +For this first trial of a homicide. +So long as Aegeus' nation shall endure +Upon this hill shall Justice hold her seat. +Here Theseus' foes, the Amazons, did camp +In days of old; here they a fortress built +In rivalry to this new-founded town; +Here sacrificed to Ares, whence the name +Of Ares' Hill; and here, by day and night, +Indwelling reverence and the fear of wrong +Shall keep my people from unrighteousness, +So they abstain from innovation rash. +Foul the clear fountain with impurities, +And of its waters thou canst drink no more. +Hold fast the golden mean, from anarchy +And from a despot's rule alike removed; +Nor cast all awe out of the commonwealth, +For who is righteous that is void of awe? +What now is founded if ye will revere, +Your land and state shall such a bulwark have +As hath no nation in the universe +From Pelops' realm to Scythia's utmost wild. +This counsel I establish incorrupt, +August, high-souled, and ever vigilant +To guard the public weal while others sleep. +Such is my counsel to my citizens +For times to come. Now let the judges rise. +Their ballots take, and a true verdict give +According to their oath; no more I say. + +CHORUS. + +(_One_ FURY _speaking for the rest_.) + +I warn ye to respect this company, +Whom else your land may find sore visitants. + +APOLLO. + +I warn ye to respect the oracles +Of Zeus and mine, nor dare to make them void. + +CHORUS. + +Bloodshedding falls not within thy domain; +Thy holy shrine will holy be no more. + +APOLLO. + +Was then my sire misled in that from blood +He cleansed Ixion, first of homicides? + +CHORUS. + +Say what thou wilt of justice, if we miss, +We shall return in wrath to haunt the land. + +APOLLO. + +Both by the new and by the ancient gods +Thou art despised: the victory will be mine. + +CHORUS. + +'Twas thou that didst in Pheres' house cajole +The fates to grant a mortal endless life. + +APOLLO. + +Was it not well to do good unto him +That honoured me, and at his utmost need? + +CHORUS. + +Thou didst, subverting all the rule of eld, +Beguile with wine those ancient deities. + +APOLLO. + +And thou wilt soon, barred of thy cruel will, +Spit forth thy venom, yet not harm thy foe. + +CHORUS. + +Since thy pert youth doth spurn my reverend age. +I wait the issue of this cause in doubt +Whether to lay my curse upon this land. + +ATHENE. + +To me it falls at last to give my vote, +And I my vote will for Orestes give; +No mother bore me, to the male I cleave +In all things saving that I wedlock shun +With my whole heart, and am my father's child. +Therefore, a woman's fate that slew her lord, +The guardian of her home, concerns me not. +Now, if there be a tie, Orestes wins. +Judges, to whom that office is assigned, +Be quick, turn out the ballots from the urns. + +ORESTES. + +Phoebus, kind god, what will the verdict be? + +CHORUS. + +O Night, my sable mother, now look down. + +ORESTES. + +For me salvation or despair is nigh. + +CHORUS. + +For us, fresh veneration or disgrace. + +APOLLO. + +Ye men of Athens, truly count the votes, +Strictly observing justice in the tale, +For want of caution here will work much woe, +While a great house may by one vote be saved. + +ATHENE. + +(_To_ ORESTES.) + +Thou art acquitted of blood-guiltiness, +For equal are the numbers of the votes. + +ORESTES. + +O Pallas, thou hast saved a royal house! +I was an exile; thou hast brought me home. +And now shall every son of Hellas say, +He is once more an Argive, once more holds. +His father's state, for which my gratitude +Is due to Pallas and to Loxias, +And, lastly, to the all-preserving Zeus, +Who, taking pity on my father's fate, +Saved me from these my mother's advocates. +Now to my home I go; but first I swear +To thee and thine an everlasting oath, +That never from my land shall chieftain come +To lift against this land his martial spear. +Ourselves, though then we in our graves shall be, +Will on the breakers of our covenant +Send such disaster, such perplexity, +Such faintness, and such evil auguries, +That they shall surely rue their enterprise; +But if my people keep the covenant, +And ever true allies to thine remain, +My spirit shall fight with them from the tomb. +Now fare ye well, thou and thy citizens; +Still in war's wrestle may your foemen fall, +And ever on your spears sit victory. + + + + + +SOPHOCLES + + + + + +OEDIPUS THE KING. + + +Oedipus is the son of Laius, King of Thebes, and Queen Jocasta. It had +been prophesied of him, before his birth, that he would kill his +father and lie with his mother. To avert this, when born, he is +devoted by his mother to death by exposure on a mountain. But he is +saved and taken to Polybus, King of Corinth, who adopts him, and whose +son he believes himself to be. Having heard of the prophecy concerning +himself, he leaves Corinth to avoid its fulfilment; but on his road +falls in with Laius, has a quarrel with his attendants, and kills him. +He then goes to Thebes, delivers the Thebans from the Sphinx, by +guessing her riddle, is rewarded with the kingdom, and marries the +widowed Queen Jocasta, his own mother, who bears children to him. The +gods, offended by the presence of murder and incest, send a plague on +Thebes. Oedipus sends his brother-in-law, Creon, to consult the oracle +at Delphi respecting the visitation. The oracle bids the Thebans expel +the murderer of Laius. This leads to an inquiry after the murderer, +and through successive disclosures, in the management of which the +poet exerts his art, to the revelation of the dreadful secret. It is a +story of overmastering fate. + + * * * * * + +_THE PLAGUE_. + +The plague sent by the angry gods is raging at Thebes. +The people are gathered in supplication round the altars before +the palace of Oedipus, who comes forth to them. + +LINES 1-77. + +OEDIPUS. + +My children, progeny of Cadmus old, +Why in this posture do I find you here, +With wool-wreathed branches in your suppliant hands? +The city is with breath of incense filled, +Filled with sad chant, and voices of lament, +Whereof the truth to learn from other lips +Deeming not right, myself am present here, +That Oedipus, the world-renowned, am hight. +Say, reverend sir, since thee it well beseems +To speak for all, what moves this company, +Fear or desire? Know that I fain would aid +With all my power. Hard-hearted I must be +If pity for such suppliants touched me not. + +THE PRIEST. + +Oedipus, puissant ruler of our land, +Behold us prostrate at thy altars here, +And mark our ages; some are callow boys, +Others are priests laden with years, as I +Am priest of Zeus; others are chosen youths. +The rest, with suppliant emblems in their hands, +Sit in the mart, or at the temples twain +Of Pallas' or Ismenus' prescient hearth. +The city, as thou dost perceive, is tossed +On the o'er-mastering billows, and no more +Can lift her head above the murderous surge. +Her foodful fruits all withering in the germ, +Her flocks and herds expiring on the lea, +Her births abortive, while the fiery fiend +Of deadly pestilence has swooped on her, +Making the homes of Cadmus desolate, +And gluts dark Hades with the wail of death. +An equal of the gods, I and these youths +That here sit on this earth, account thee not; +But we account thee first of men to deal +With visitation or cross accident. +A stranger thou didst bring to us release +From tribute to that cruel songstress paid. +Advantage from our guidance thou hadst none, +'Twas by the inspiration of a god +As we believe that thou didst redeem our State. +Now, Oedipus, thou whom we all revere, +We bow before thee, and implore thy grace +To find some succour for us if thou canst +By heavenly teaching or through human aid. +In men, who by experience have been tried, +We find the happiest fruits of policy. +Come, best of men, lift up our city's head! +Look to thy own renown; thy zeal once shown +Has earned for thee a patriot saviour's name. +Let us not think of thee as of a prince +That raised us up to let us fall again; +But make our restoration firm and sure. +'Twas under happy omens that thou then +Didst succour us; what then thou wast, be now. +Our king thou art; if king thou wilt remain, +Reign o'er a peopled realm, not o'er a waste. +Naught is the bravest ship without her crew, +The strongest fort without its garrison. + +OEDIPUS. + +Poor children, little needs to tell me that +For which ye come to pray; too well I know +Ye all are sick. And, sick as ye may be, +There is not one whose sickness equals mine. +The grief of each of you touches himself, +And touches none beside: your sovereign's heart +Bears your griefs, and the city's and his own. +Not from a slumber have ye wakened me, +Trust me, I many an anxious tear have shed, +And many a path have tried in wandering thought. +Such remedy as, scanning all, I find +I have applied. Creon, Menoeceus' son +And my Queen's brother, to the Pythian shrine +Of Phoebus I have sent to ask what act +Or word of mine this city will redeem. +And now, as anxiously I mete the time, +My soul is troubled, for, to my surprise, +He has been absent longer than he ought. +But when he comes, a caitiff I shall be +If I do not all that the god ordains. + + * * * * * + +_THE DAWN OF DISCOVERY_. + +Oedipus, having learned from the oracle that the cause of the +wrath of the gods and of the plague is the presence of the +murderer of Laius in the land, sends for the blind prophet, +Tiresias, to tell him who is the murderer. Tiresias, knowing +the secret, is reluctant to reveal it, and an altercation ensues, +Oedipus suspecting that Tiresias has been set on by Creon, the +Queen's brother, who he thinks is intriguing to supplant him in +the monarchy. + +LINES 300-462. + +OEDIPUS. + +Tiresias, thou whose thought embraces all, +Revealed or unrevealed, in heaven or earth, +In how sad plight our city is, thy mind, +If not thy eye, discerns. Prophet, in thee +Resides our sole hope of deliverance. +Phoebus, if thou hast not the tidings heard, +Has to our envoys answered, that the plague +Will never leave this city till we find +The murderers of the late King Laius, +And slay them or expel them from the land. +Then, if a way thou know'st, by augury +Or divination, put forth all thy power, +Save this our commonwealth, thyself and me; +Put from us the pollution of this blood. +To thee alone we look; what gifts one has +To use for good is of all toil the best. + +TIRESIAS. + +Ah! what an ill possession knowledge is +When ignorance were gain. This well I know, +And yet forgot, else had I not come here. + +OEDIPUS. + +What ails thee that thou bring'st this face of gloom? + +TIRESIAS. + +Let me go home, for each of us will bear +His burden easiest if so thou dost. + +OEDIPUS. + +Whatever thou dost know, the voice of right +And call of patriot duty bids thee speak. + +TIRESIAS. + +Speech is not always opportune; in thee +It is not; thy mistake I would not share. + +OEDIPUS. + +Oh, by the gods, I pray thee stand not mute! +We all as suppliants kneel in heart to thee. + +TIRESIAS. + +Then are ye all misguided. As for me, +I tell not that which told would hurt us both. + +OEDIPUS. + +How! dost thou know and yet refuse to tell? +Wilt thou prove traitor and undo the State? + +TIRESIAS. + +I will not bring down woe on thee and me. +Press me no more; thy questioning is vain. + +OEDIPUS. + +O vilest of mankind, for thou would'st move +A stone to righteous wrath, wilt thou not speak +But still stand there unmoved and obdurate? + +TIRESIAS. + +Thou dost reprove my heart, yet near thine own +Is something that the censor wots not of. + +OEDIPUS. + +Whose wrath would not be kindled when he heard +Language so hateful to a patriot's ear? + +TIRESIAS. + +Even if I keep silence, it must come. + +OEDIPUS. + +That which must come why not disclose to me? + +TIRESIAS. + +I will speak no word more; then, if thou wilt, +Freely give vent to thy most savage wrath. + +OEDIPUS. + +Freely my anger shall give utterance +To what I think: I think that in thy mind +This murder was engendered, was thy act +Save the mere blow, and hadst thou not been blind, +I should have deemed thee the sole murderer. + +TIRESIAS. + +Ha! Then I call upon thee to be true +To thy own proclamation, and henceforth +Abstain from intercourse with these or me, +As he that brings on us the curse of blood. + +OEDIPUS. + +Hast thou the impudence such calumny +To vent, and dream'st thou of impunity? + +TIRESIAS. + +I fear thee not; truth's power is on my side. + +OEDIPUS. + +Whence did it come to thee? not from thy art. + +TIRESIAS. + +From thee that made me speak against my will. + +OEDIPUS. + +Speak how? Repeat thy words that I may know. + +TIRESIAS. + +Didst thou not understand or tempt'st thou me? + +OEDIPUS. + +Fully I did not. Say it once again. + +TIRESIAS. + +I say the murderer whom thou seek'st is thou. + +OEDIPUS. + +Unpunished twice thy slanders shall not go. + +TIRESIAS. + +Shall I say more, further to fire thy wrath? + +OEDIPUS. + +All that thou wilt; 'twill be of none effect. + +TIRESIAS. + +I say that thou dost with thy next of kin +Foully consort, not knowing where thou art. + +OEDIPUS. + +And think'st thou still unscathed to say these things? + +TIRESIAS. + +I do, if there is any strength in truth. + +OEDIPUS. + +In truth is strength, but that strength is not thine; +Thou in eyes, ears, and mind alike art blind. + +TIRESIAS. + +And thou art wretched, casting in my teeth +What all men presently will cast in thine. + +OEDIPUS. + +Thy lot is utter darkness; neither I +Nor any one who sees, can fear thy wrath. + +TIRESIAS. + +Not mine is chastisement; Apollo's might +Sufficient is, and will bring all to pass. + +OEDIPUS. + +Is this contrivance Creon's or thine own? + +TIRESIAS. + +Thyself, not Creon, is thy enemy. + +OEDIPUS. + +O wealth, O sovereignty, O art of arts +That givest victory in the race of life, +How are ye still by envious malice dogged! +This place of power, which now I hold, by me +Unsought, was by the city's will bestowed. +Yet the thrice-loyal Creon, my fast friend, +Seeks now to oust me by foul practices, +Using for tool this knavish soothsayer, +This lying mountebank, whose greedy palm +Has eyes, while in his science he is blind. +Show me the proofs of thy prophetic gift. +Why, when the riddling Sphinx was here, didst thou +Fail by thy skill to save the commonwealth? +The riddle was not such as all can read, +But gave thy art fair opportunity, +Yet neither inspiration served thee then, +Nor omens, but I, skilless Oedipus, +Out of my ignorance confounded her, +By my own wit, unhelped by auguries; +I, whom thou now conspirest to depose, +Hoping that thou wilt stand by Creon's throne. +These pious efforts, trust me, will be rued +By thee and him that sets thee on; thy years +Are thy defence from instant chastisement. + +CHORUS. + +To us, Lord Oedipus, alike thy word +And the seer's seem the utterance of your wrath. +Wrath here is out of place, what we would seek +Is a right reading of the oracle. + +TIRESIAS + +High is thy throne, yet must thou stoop so low +As to endure free speech; that power is mine. +I to my god am servant, not to thee, +And therefore, ask not Creon's patronage. +I tell thee who with blindness tauntest me, +Sight though thou hast thou seest not what thou art, +Nor where thou hast been dwelling, nor with whom. +Know'st thou thy birth? No, nor that thou art loathed +By thine own kin, the living and the dead. +One day thy sire's and mother's awful curse, +With double scourge, will whip thee from this land. +Dark then shall be those eyes which now are light, +And with thy cries what place shall not resound, +What glen of wide Cithaeron shall not ring, +As soon as thou dost learn into what port +Of marriage swelling sails have wafted thee? +Much is in store beside to bring thee down +Unto thy children's level and thy own. +Then trample upon Creon and my gift +Of prophecy. Of all mankind is none +Whom ruin more complete awaits than thee. + +OEDIPUS. + +Who can endure this caitiff's insolence? +Go to perdition on the instant; pack, +And of thy presence let this house be rid. + +TIRESIAS. + +I had not come except at thy command. + +OEDIPUS. + +I knew not then what folly thou would'st talk, +Else should I scarce have called thee to my house. + +TIRESIAS. + +Such it appears in thy conceit, am I, +A fool; yet to thy parents I seemed wise. + +OEDIPUS. + +My parents, hold there! Tell me who were they. + +TIRESIAS. + +This day shall bring thee parents and despair. + +OEDIPUS. + +Riddles again; still utterances dark. + +TIRESIAS. + +In guessing riddles art thou not supreme? + +OEDIPUS. + +Welcome the taunt which to my greatness points. + +TIRESIAS. + +And yet that day of greatness ruined thee. + +OEDIPUS. + +I reck not if it saved the commonwealth. + +TIRESIAS. + +I will be gone. Boy, lead me to my home. + +OEDIPUS. + +Yea, let him lead thee; thy intrusion here +Troubles us; thy departure were relief. + +TIRESIAS. + +I go, but first will my deliverance make +Maugre thy frown, which can do me no harm. +I tell thee that the man whom thou dost seek +With proclamations and with threat'nings dire, +The man who murdered Laius, is here; +In name a foreigner, a native born +In fact, as will to his small joy appear. +For he who now has sight will go forth blind, +He who is rich will go forth penniless, +Groping his way to dwell in a strange land; +Brother of his own offspring he has been, +As all the world shall know, husband of her +That brought him forth, with incest stained, and stained +With parricide. Get thee into thy house, +There think upon my words, and if I lie +Say I have lost the gift of prophecy. + + * * * * * + +_DISCOVERY_. + +A messenger from Corinth announces to Oedipus the death of his reputed +father, Polybus, king of Corinth, and incidentally reveals to him in +part the history of his birth. Jocasta, the queen of Oedipus and his +real mother, is on the scene when the messenger arrives; upon her the +fatal secret dawns at once. + +LINES 924-1085. + +MESSENGER. + +Strangers, I pray ye tell me if ye can +Where is the palace of King Oedipus; +Or better, where is Oedipus himself. + +CHORUS. + +This is the palace, in it is the king, +And there the mother of his children stands. + +MESSENGER. + +Blessed may she be, be all around her blessed, +If she indeed his honoured consort is. + +JOCASTA. + +Blessed be thou too, O stranger; such return +Thy courtesy demands; but let me know +Wherefore thou comest, what thou hast to tell. + +MESSENGER. + +Good news to thee, lady, and to thy lord. + +JOCASTA. + +What is the news, whence is thy embassage? + +MESSENGER. + +From Corinth, and the tidings on my lips +May please, must please, and yet perchance may pain. + +JOCASTA. + +What can it be that has this double power? + +MESSENGER. + +The denizens of yonder Isthmian land +Will make thy lord their king, as rumour goes. + +JOCASTA. + +What? Is old Polybus their king no more? + +MESSENGER. + +His lease of power has ended in his grave. + +JOCASTA. + +What say'st thou, that King Polybus is dead? + +MESSENGER. + +If I speak false let death be my reward. + +JOCASTA. + +Fly, fly, my handmaid, bear unto your lord +This news without delay. O oracles, +Where are ye? Oedipus in exile lives +Lest he should slay this prince, and lo, this prince, +Untouched by him, in course of nature dies. + +OEDIPUS (_entering_). + +Jocasta, dearest partner of my life, +Why from the palace hast thou summoned me? + +JOCASTA. + +Hear this man's tidings, and by them be taught +To what have come those reverend oracles. + +OEDIPUS. + +Who is the man? What is the news he brings? + +JOCASTA. + +He comes from Corinth, and the news he brings +Is that thy father, Polybus, is dead. + +OEDIPUS. + +What say'st thou, stranger? Tell it me thyself. + +MESSENGER. + +If it is this thou first wouldst surely know, +Then surely know that Polybus is gone. + +OEDIPUS. + +Died he of sickness or through treachery? + +MESSENGER. + +A touch will lay the aged form to sleep. + +OEDIPUS. + +He died, poor king, by sickness it would seem. + +MESSENGER. + +By sickness added to his length of years. + +OEDIPUS. + +Fie on it, wife! why should we ever waste +One thought on that prophetic Pythian shrine, +Or on the notes of birds whose boding cry +Foretold that I should be a parricide? +Beneath the ground my father lies, and I +Am guiltless of his blood, unless his heart +Broke at my loss, and thus through me he died. +These prophecies that trouble us are naught, +Are buried in the grave of Polybus. + +JOCASTA. + +Said I not from the first it would be so? + +OEDIPUS. + +Thou didst, but I was led astray by fear. + +JOCASTA. + +Henceforth dismiss these bugbears from thy soul. + +OEDIPUS. + +The incest--have I not still that to dread? + +JOCASTA. + +Why should man fear whose life is but the sport +Of chance, to whom the future is all dark? +'Tis best to live at hazard as one may. +For that predicted incest, dread it not, +For many a man has in a dream ere this +Lain with his mother. He who takes no thought +Of such hobgoblins, lives the easiest life. + +OEDIPUS. + +All thou hast said would have my full assent +Were not my mother still alive; but now, +Though thou say'st well, I cannot choose but fear. + +JOCASTA. + +A light of hope shines from your father's grave. + +OEDIPUS. + +Yes, but my mother lives, and fear with her. + +MESSENGER. + +What, lady, is the cause of your alarm? + +OEDIPUS. + +'Tis Merope, the Queen of Polybus. + +MESSENGER. + +And what is there in her to breed your fears? + +OEDIPUS. + +A dreadful ordinance of destiny. + +MESSENGER. + +Is it a mystery? May it be told? + +OEDIPUS. + +It may be told. The god before my birth +Foreshowed that with my mother I should lie, +And shed with my own hands my father's blood. +For which cause I have long my dwelling made +Far off from Corinth. Happily, 'tis true, +Yet to behold a parent's face is sweet. + +MESSENGER. + +Was this the fear that drove thee from that land? + +OEDIPUS. + +This, and the dreadful thought of parricide. + +MESSENGER. + +Why do I not at once, as here I am +Wishing thy good, relieve thee of that fear? + +OEDIPUS. + +Thou wouldst not fail to reap my gratitude. + +MESSENGER. + +'Twas to that end I came, that to thy home +When thou hadst come I might the gainer be. + +OEDIPUS. + +Home, while my mother lives, I will not go. + +MESSENGER. + +My son, 'tis plain thou know'st not what thou dost. + +OEDIPUS. + +How? By the gods, old man, explain to me! + +MESSENGER. + +If thou on her account dost shun thy home. + +OEDIPUS. + +I fear the god's prediction may prove true. + +MESSENGER. + +Touching the stain of incest, wouldst thou say? + +OEDIPUS. + +'Tis this, old man, I dread unceasingly. + +MESSENGER. + +Knowest thou not that thy alarms are vain? + +OEDIPUS. + +How vain, if of these parents I was born? + +MESSENGER. + +Polybus was no relative of thine. + +OEDIPUS. + +What say'st thou? Was not Polybus my sire? + +MESSENGER. + +As much thy sire as I am, and no more. + +OEDIPUS. + +Can father and not father be the same? + +MESSENGER. + +Neither did I beget thee nor did he. + +OEDIPUS. + +Then for what reason did he call me son? + +MESSENGER. + +Thou wast a gift to him, and from this hand. + +OEDIPUS. + +And could he take a foundling to his heart? + +MESSENGER. + +It was the yearning of a childless man. + +OEDIPUS. + +Was I thine own, or was I bought by thee? + +MESSENGER. + +I found thee in Cithaeron's bosky glade. + +OEDIPUS. + +What was it brought thee to this neighbourhood? + +MESSENGER. + +I kept the flocks that fed upon these hills. + +OEDIPUS. +Wast thou a shepherd wandering for hire? + +MESSENGER. + +Poor as I was, O King, I saved thy life. + +OEDIPUS. + +In what so evil plight then was I found? + +MESSENGER. + +Thy insteps to that question can reply. + +OEDIPUS. + +Alack! what evil memory is this? + +MESSENGER. + +Thy feet were pierced through when I rescued thee. + +OEDIPUS. + +A hapless babe, foul swaddling clothes had I. + +MESSENGER. + +Thy name is thy misfortune's monument. + +OEDIPUS. + +Was it my mother's or my father's act? + +MESSENGER. + +I know not; he who gave me thee may tell. + +OEDIPUS. + +Was I received, then, and not found by thee? + +MESSENGER. + +Another shepherd put thee in my hands. + +OEDIPUS. + +Who was he? Canst thou point him out to me? + +MESSENGER. + +A serving-man of Laius he was called. + +OEDIPUS. + +That Laius who was ruler of this land? + +MESSENGER. + +The same; the man I mean his herdsman was. + +OEDIPUS. + +Is he alive? can he be seen by me? + +MESSENGER. + +You that this land inhabit best can tell. + +OEDIPUS. +Does any one of you who stand around +The herdsman know of whom this stranger speaks? +Either afield or here has he been seen? +Speak out! 'tis time that all should be revealed. + +CHORUS. + +I ween it is no other than the hind +Of whom thou wast in quest some time ago; +But Queen Jocasta could most likely tell. + +OEDIPUS. + +Wife, dost thou know the man for whom erewhile +We sent? Is it of him that this man speaks? + +JOCASTA. + +Why ask? what matters it of whom he spoke? +Let not such follies dwell upon thy mind. + +OEDIPUS. + +Think not to hinder me, with such a clue, +From searching out the secret of my birth. + +JOCASTA. + +For Heaven's sake, for the sake of thy own life, +Desist! That I am stricken is enough. + +OEDIPUS. + +Fear not; though I be proved through three descents +Three times a slave, thy birth will take no stain. + +JOCASTA. + +Hear me, I do implore thee! Search no more. + +OEDIPUS. + +I will not stop till all has been revealed! + +JOCASTA. + +She that entreats thee has thy good at heart. + +OEDIPUS. + +Good it may be, yet does it please me ill. + +JOCASTA. + +Unhappy man! what thou art, never know. + +OEDIPUS. + +Go, some one; fetch the herdsman with all speed, +And let this lady vaunt her pedigree. + +JOCASTA. + +Alack! alack! Wretch, by no other name +Can I now call thee or shall call thee more! + (JOCASTA _rushes off the scene_.) + +CHORUS. + +O King, why has the lady rushed away +In this wild burst of grief? I sorely fear +Her silence prefaces a storm of woe. + +OEDIPUS. + +Let her storm on! resolved am I to find +The stem that bore me, lowly though it be. +She, very like, puffed with a woman's pride, +May feel ashamed of my ignoble birth. +For me, I do esteem me Fortune's child, +Nor blush to hold me of her favour born. +She is my mother; and my father, Time, +Whose months have on to greatness borne his child. +With such a parentage I fear no change +That should forbid me to search out my birth. + + * * * * * + +_THE CATASTROPHE_. + +Jocasta, in despair, hangs herself. Oedipus puts out his own eyes. The +scene is described by a second messenger, who has witnessed it. + +LINES 1223-1296. + +MESSENGER. + +O reverend priests and elders of this land, +What are ye doomed to hear? what to behold? +What sorrow will be yours if loyally +Ye love the royal house of Labdacus? +Ister or Phasis were too scant a stream, +To wash the bloodstains of this roof away, +Such horrors does it hide, and presently +Will show beneath the sun; horrors self-caused, +And self-caused woes are of all woes the worst. + +CHORUS. + +That which we knew already topped the height +Of misery. What hast thou more to tell? + +MESSENGER. + +What fewest words serve to impart is this, +Jocasta the illustrious is no more. + +CHORUS. + +Alas, poor Queen! How was it that she died? + +MESSENGER. + +By her own hand. That which is worst of all, +The sight of what was done, your eyes are spared; +But to your ears, so far as memory serves, +I will recount her most disastrous end. +When, in a storm of passion, hence she passed +To yonder house, straight to her marriage-bed, +Tearing her hair with both her hands, she flew. +She slammed the door behind her; then she cries +To Laius, that had long been in his grave, +Calling to mind the seed that they had raised +To murder its begetter, while his mate, +Was left to her own child's incestuous arms. +She cursed the bed which to a husband bore +A husband and gave children to a child. +Thereon she slew herself, I wot not how, +For, with loud outcries Oedipus rushed in, +And on his movements all our eyes were turned, +So that we could not mark Jocasta's end. +He, raving, shouted to us for a sword, +And asked where was his wife that was no wife, +But his own mother and his children's, too. +Then, in his frenzy, some mysterious power, +For it was none of us, showed him the way. +With a wild yell, as though one led him on, +He charged the doorway, from their sockets tore +The bolts, and headlong dashed into the room. +There we beheld Jocasta hanging dead, +Her neck entangled in the fatal noose. +This the King seeing, gave a fearful yell, +And loosed the rope; the corpse fell to the ground. +What then ensued was fearful to behold: +The golden buckles wherewith she was dight +He from her garment plucked, and, lifting them +On high, he smote the pupils of his eyes, +Crying aloud that they should look no more +Upon his suffering or his crimes, but dark +Henceforth betray their duty seeing those +Whom they ought not, not seeing those they ought. +Chanting this strain, once and again he smote, +With hand uplift, his eyeballs, till the blood +Ran from his wounded eyes down to his chin, +Not in slow-oozing drops of clotted gore, +But in a pelting shower of crimson hue. +Such is the wreck, not of a single life, +But of a husband's and a wife's in one. +The grandeur of this house in happier hours +Was grandeur worthy of the name. To-day +Sorrow and desolation, death and shame, +All evils for which man has names are here. + +CHORUS. + +Rests now the victim from this agony? + +MESSENGER. + +He calls to us to open wide the door +And let all Thebes behold the parricide. +His mother's--names too horrible he used, +Vowing he'll doom himself to banishment, +Nor live beneath the curse himself called down. +But some support and guidance he will need, +For he is stricken past man's strength to bear. +Thyself will see it, for behold, the gates +Open and will a spectacle disclose +That might the bitterest foe to pity move! + + * * * * * + +THE PARTING. + +Oedipus bewails his calamities. A scene follows between him and Creon, +his wife's brother, whom he had accused of treasonably plotting +against him in concert with Tiresias. + +LINES 1369-1514. + +OEDIPUS. + +That what is done is not done for the best, +Forbear to preach; thy counsel is in vain. +Could I have looked upon my father's face, +Meeting him yonder in the underworld, +Or on my hapless mother's, when to both +I had done wrongs worse than the worst of deaths? +Perchance you'll say to see my progeny +Were sweet! when I remembered whence they sprung. +Never, believe me, to their father's eyes; +Nor to see city, tower, or temple more, +From which, of all men most unfortunate, +When I had lived the noblest life in Thebes, +I did myself cut off, adjuring all +To drive the sinner out by heaven declared +Accursed and of the blood of Laius. +When I had thus proclaimed my infamy, +Could I meet, eye to eye, those citizens? +It might not be. Nay, were there any means +Of cutting off the source of hearing, too, +I would have closed all avenues of sense, +And made this wretched frame both blind and deaf. +The mind has peace that dwells apart from ills. +Why, O Cithaeron, didst thou cherish me, +Not end my life at once, that so my kind +Had never learned the secret of my birth? +O Polybus, and Corinth, and that home +By me paternal deemed, how foul beneath +Was that which ye brought up so outward fair! +I stand a villain, and of villains born. +O meeting of three ways, and lonely glen, +And copse, and narrow pass at the cross-roads, +That from my father's veins drank, by my hand, +The blood which filled my own, remember ye, +What ye beheld me do, and what I did +Thereafter in this land? Marriage ill-starred, +Thou gavest me birth, and then of me gave birth +To a fresh offspring, and before the sun +Showed fathers, brothers, children, parricides, +Brides, wives, and mothers in unnatural train, +With all things most abhorred among mankind. +But what is foul to do is foul to hear, +Therefore, at once bury me out of sight; +Put me to death, cast me into the sea, +That never eye of man may see me more. +Come, lay your hands upon my wretched frame, +Do as I pray ye, fearing naught, my load +Of woe no mortal can support but I. + (_Enter_ CREON.) + +CHORUS. + +At the right time thy wish to execute +And give thee counsel, Creon comes, now left +In place of thee sole guardian of our State. + +OEDIPUS. + +Alas! To him what can I find to say, +What plea of justice, since my conscience cries +That he has met foul treatment at my hands? + +CREON. + +I came not, Oedipus, to mock thy fall, +Nor to upbraid thee with unkindness past. +But ye, that stand around, if human hearts +Ye do not reverence, reverence yonder sun +Whose fire feeds all things, and expose no more +Unveiled to view this horror, which nor earth +Nor heaven's sweet rains nor sunlight can endure. +Bear him within; let there be no delay. +The sorrows of a household, piety +Reserves for kindred eyes and ears alone. + +OEDIPUS. + +Since thou my expectation hast belied, +Proving thyself as good as I am bad, +Grant what I ask, for thy behoof I speak. + +CREON. + +What is this thing that thou wouldst have me do? + +OEDIPUS. + +Cast me, and instantly, out of this land, +Beyond the pale of human intercourse. + +CREON. + +Already had I done this, but I first +Desired to ask the counsel of the god. + +OEDIPUS. + +The god had fully made his counsel known, +Which was to slay the impious parricide. + +CREON. + +So did we hold, yet in our present case +Better we deemed it to be circumspect. + +OEDIPUS. + +Wilt thou enquire about a wretch like me? + +CREON. + +Thyself by this hast learned to trust the gods. + +OEDIPUS. + +I do conjure thee, and enjoin on thee, +Her that within there lies, as seems thee fit, +Lay in the ground. To thee that care belongs. +But me, let never this my fatherland +Be so dishonoured as to hold alive. +Upon the mountains let my dwelling be, +Upon my own Cithaeron, which my sire +And mother chose as my appointed tomb, +And so let those who sought it take my life. +And yet past doubt it is that I was proof +'Gainst death in all its forms; if I were saved, +It must have been for some fell destiny. +But be my own lot what it may, my care +Is for my children, Creon. For the boys +I'd have thee take no thought; as they are men, +Where'er they be they'll find a livelihood. +But for my girls now lorn and desolate, +My girls, apart from whom was never set +Their father's table, who still had their share +Of everything on which his hand was laid, +I crave thy care. And first let me embrace +My darlings and unite my tears to theirs. +Pray, good my lord, +Consent, kind heart. To hold them in my arms +Would be to feel them mine as when I saw-- +What shall I say? + +(ANTIGONE _and_ ISMENE, OEDIPUS' _daughters, are brought +upon the scene_.) + +Is it my darlings' weeping that I hear? +Do my ears tell me true? Has Creon sent +My best beloved in mercy to their sire? +Say I aright? + +CREON. + +Thou say'st aright. 'Tis I that, knowing well +Thy heart's desire, have granted thee this boon. + +OEDIPUS. + +Fortune befriend thee for their presence here, +Heaven guard thee better than it guarded me. +Daughters, where are ye? Come unto these arms, +These arms that issued from one womb with you, +Which on the father that begot you brought +This darkness for the light he had before. +Blindly, my children, and unwittingly, +Offspring I got in an incestuous bed. +See you I cannot, but I weep for you, +When I bethink me of the bitter life +That ye must live, marks for the scorn of men. +To what assembly, to what festival, +Will ye e'er go and not be driven home +In tears, excluded from the spectacle? +And when your marriageable hour has come, +Where will be found the man so venturesome +To take upon him the reproach that falls +Upon my parents and from them on you? +What stain is lacking when your father slew +His father, her that bore him took to wife +'Gainst nature's law, and had you born to him +From the same womb from which himself was born? +In face of such reproaches who will wed? +No one will dare. Daughters, to waste away +Lonely and childless is your certain doom. +Son of Menoeceus, thou alone art left +As father to these children, in one day +Bereft of both their parents; let them not +Go forth to roam famished and desolate, +Nor let them be confounded with my crimes. +Have pity on them, seeing them so young, +Deprived of all saving thy charity. +Reach forth thy hand in token of assent. +Children, were ye of age to understand, +I had much counsel giv'n ye; but now pray +That you may dwell where it is best to dwell, +And yours may be a happier lot than mine. + + + + +OEDIPUS AT COLONUS. + + +After the day of horrors the blind Oedipus is cast forth from Thebes, +and becomes a wanderer over the face of the earth, guided and tended +by his faithful daughter, Antigone. He comes at last to Colonus, a +rural district near Athens, and one of the holy places of Attica. Here +he is destined to end his life, to be buried, and by the presence of +his remains to confer a blessing on the country which has given him a +last resting-place and a tomb. The dark cloud of involuntary guilt, +which has hitherto overshadowed him, lifts at the end, and is +succeeded by a calm evening light. + + * * * * * + +_OEDIPUS AND ANTIGONE ARRIVE AT COLONUS AND ENTER THE CONSECRATED +GROUND_. + +LINES 1-110 + +OEDIPUS. + +Child of a blind old man, Antigone, +Unto what land, whose city, have we come? +Who is there for this day to entertain +With scanty fare the wanderer, Oedipus, +Who asks but little and still less receives, +Yet with his dole is fain to be content-- +For time and suffering and a noble heart +Have taught me how to bear adversity. +But, daughter, if thou seest a resting-place, +Either in common ground or hallowed grove, +There guide me to a seat, that we may ask +What place is this: strangers, we come to learn +Of citizens and what they bid us do. + +ANTIGONE. + +Oedipus, my unhappy sire, the towers +That fence the city round far off appear. +This seems a holy place; 'tis full of pine, +Of laurel, and of vine under whose leaves +Trills her sweet notes full many a nightingale. +Here rest thee on this unhewn seat of rock; +The journey for thy aged feet was long. + +OEDIPUS. + +Guide thy old father safely to the seat. + +ANTIGONE. + +It is a lesson taught me long ago. + +OEDIPUS. + +Where is it we have halted? canst thou tell? + +ANTIGONE. + +Athens I know; this spot is strange to me. + +OEDIPUS. + +That it was Athens every traveller said. + +ANTIGONE. + +Wouldst thou that I go ask what place it is? + +OEDIPUS. + +Yea, daughter, if it is inhabited. + +ANTIGONE. + +Inhabited it is; but I may spare +My pains, for close at hand I see a man. + +OEDIPUS. + +Bends he his steps in our direction, child? + +ANTIGONE. + +Yes, and is now at hand. + +(_Enter_ STRANGER.) + +Whate'er is meet +For thee to say, speak; he is at thy side. + +OEDIPUS. + +O stranger, listen to this maid who sees +Both for herself and me, since our good luck +Hath sent thee to inform our ignorance. + +STRANGER. + +Ere thou dost question further, leave that place; +'Tis holy ground whereon thou mayest not tread. + +OEDIPUS. + +What, then, is the indwelling deity? + +STRANGER. + +I tell thee it is hallowed; it belongs +To the dread Daughters of the Earth and Night. + +OEDIPUS. + +What is their name? With reverence I would ask. + +STRANGER. + +With us, the Eumenides, of sleepless eye; +But different names seem good in different lands. + +OEDIPUS. + +May they receive the suppliant to their grace, +For I intend no more to leave this ground. + +STRANGER. + +What means this? + +OEDIPUS. + +'Tis the token of my doom. + +STRANGER. + +Myself I dare not thrust thee out until +On my report the State my act approves. + +OEDIPUS. + +To a poor wanderer, friend, be not unkind, +But what I humbly ask thee deign to tell. + +STRANGER. + +Speak on, and no unkind refusal fear. + +OEDIPUS. + +What is the place, then, upon which we stand? + +STRANGER. + +Thou shalt know all that I can tell. The place +Around is holy, dread Posidon here +Is present, present here the lord of fire, +Titan Prometheus. What thou standest on +Is of this region hight the Brazen Way, +The prop of Athens, while these neighbouring fields +Boast of Colonus, that famed charioteer, +As their first settler; and their denizens +Are proud to bear their founder's sainted name. +Such claims to pious reverence hath this place, +Stranger, which they who dwell here feel the more. + +OEDIPUS. + +There are then people who inhabit it? + +STRANGER. + +Yes, people named after their patron god. + +OEDIPUS. + +Has it a king or do the commons rule? + +STRANGER. + +The King of yonder city is its lord. + +OEDIPUS. + +And who now fills the seat of royalty? + +STRANGER. + +Theseus, the son of Aegeus, is his name. + +OEDIPUS. + +Would one of you my envoy be to him? + +STRANGER. + +To tell him aught, or bid him come to thee? + +OEDIPUS. + +To show him how small cost may bring great gain. + +STRANGER. + +And wherein can the blind advantage him? + +OEDIPUS. + +My eyes are blind, but when I speak I see. + +STRANGER. + +Attend my words if thou'rt an honest man, +And honest though ill-starred thou seemst to me. +Stir not from off this spot where thou dost stand, +Till to this township's rural denizens +I have recounted all. They will decide +Whether thou may'st remain or must depart. + +(_Exit_ STRANGER.) + +OEDIPUS. + +My daughter, has the stranger gone from us? + +ANTIGONE. + +He has, my father; all is still around. +Thou mayst speak freely for I only hear. + +OEDIPUS. + +Dread goddesses, of awful countenance, +Since in your holy precincts first I rest, +Be merciful to Phoebus and to me; +For Phoebus, when he all my woes foretold, +Promised me peace at last, then to be mine +When at my wandering's limit I should find +A shrine and hostel of the powers of awe. +Here of my misery was to be the goal, +And I was to bring blessings to my hosts, +And curses upon them that drove me out. +Tokens of this he pledged his word to send, +An earthquake, lightning, or a thunder peal. +Sure then I am that auguries from you, +Who cannot lie, my wandering feet have led +Unto this grove. How should the wayfarer +Else have on you first lighted, like himself, +Untasting of the wine-cup, and have found +This sacred seat unhewn? O goddesses, +Fulfil Apollo's oracles, and grant +Some termination of this weary life, +Unless my sum of pain seems incomplete, +When long unbroken sufferings I have borne. +O daughters dear of immemorial night, +Athens, of cities most illustrious, +That art to the great Pallas dedicate, +Take pity on this ghost of Oedipus; +Once I was not the thing that now I am. + + * * * * * + +_THE PRAISES OF COLONUS AND ATHENS_. + +LINES 668-719. + +CHORUS. + +Of this land of chivalry +Thou the garden here dost see, +White Colonus, in whose glade, +Underneath the greenwood shade, +Her loved haunt, the nightingale +Poureth oft her luscious wail. +Glossy-dark the ivy creeps; +Flourishes along the steeps +With berries store, scorched by no ray, +Rent by no storm, the sacred bay. +Here loves the jolly god to rove +With merry nymphs that round him move. +Here many a flower, heaven-watered, blows, +Worthy to bind immortal brows. +Narcissus waves its clusters gay, +And crocus gleams with golden ray. +Nor do the springs that feed thy flow, +Cephisus, intermission know: +Day after day their crystal stream +Makes the rich loam with plenty teem. +Nor do the muses keep afar, +Nor Aphrodite's golden car. +Here grows, what neither Asia's coast +Nor Pelops' Dorian Isle can boast, +The tree that Nature's bounty rears, +The tree that mocks the foeman's spears, +That nowhere blooms so fair and free +And rich--our own grey olive tree, +Of which no chieftain, old or young, +Shall rob the land from which it sprung. +Blue-eyed Athene is its guard, +And Morian Zeus its sleepless ward. +And loftier still the note of praise +That by the grace of heaven we raise +To this our motherland, for she +Is Queen of steeds, Queen of the sea. +Poseidon, son of Saturn, thou +Didst set this crown upon her brow, +When first upon Athenian course +Thou taughtst to curb the fiery horse. +The dashing oar our seamen ply, +Light o'er the wave our galleys fly, +Keeping the sea-nymphs company. + + * * * * * + +_LENGTH OF DAYS_. + +LINES 1211-1238. + +CHORUS. + +Little wisdom hath the man +That would over-live his span. +Length of days brings many a moan +When life's prime is past and gone; +But of pleasures, never a one. +Then all alike from dole to save, +Comes the dark and cheerless grave. + +Not to be is happiest; +Next with speed to part is best. +Bloodshed, battle, hatred, strife, +Youth with all these ills is rife. +Then comes the last, the dreariest stage, +Sour, companionless old age. + + * * * * * + +_THE END OF OEDIPUS_. + +LINES 1579-1667. + +MESSENGER. (_To the_ CHORUS.) + +Brief is the speech, my fellow-citizens, +Needed to tell that Oedipus is dead; +But a brief speech will not suffice to give +A full account of all that there befell. + +CHORUS. + +His life of sorrow then has found its end. + +MESSENGER. + +He is where he will never sorrow more. + +CHORUS. + +Died he by act of heaven and painlessly? + +MESSENGER. + +Herein consists the wonder of my tale. +When from this place he went, as thou didst see, +No longer guided by a friendly hand, +But himself acting as the guide of all, +Having arrived at the descending stair, +With brazen steps fast rooted in the earth, +He halted upon one of many paths, +Hard by the basin wherein treasured lie +Pledges of Theseus and Pirithous. +Midway from this to the Thorician rock, +The hollow pear-tree and the marble tomb, +He took his seat and disarrayed himself +Of his soiled weeds; then to his daughters called +Water to bring that he might cleanse himself. +They to a knoll that rose above the fane +Of boon Demeter, hastening, did with speed +That which their sire commanded,--bathed his limbs, +And in new garments seemly him arrayed. +When thus his heart's desire had been fulfilled, +And none of his behests remained undone, +Thunder beneath the earth was heard, whereat +The maidens quaked, and on their father's knees +They laid them down and wept, nor ceased to beat +Their breasts and to pour forth the long-drawn wail. +He, hearing all at once their bitter cry, +Folded his hands over their heads, and said, +"Daughters, this day your father is no more, +For now my course is ended and your life +Of travel sore in tending me is done. +Hard was that life, my daughters, well I know, +And yet a single word makes up for all. +Love did ye never meet at any hand +Greater than his, of whom henceforth bereft, +Ye must drag out whate'er remains of life." +Thus folded each in other's last embrace, +They sobbed and wailed. When they at last had done +Their weeping and their cry arose no more, +A silence followed; all at once a voice +Called him, and made the hair of each of us +That heard it stand on end with sudden fear. +Repeatedly it called, that mystic voice, +"Oedipus, linger thou no more," it said, +"Thine hour is come; too long is thy delay." +He, hearing the celestial summons, called +For our King Theseus to draw near to him; +And when the King drew near, he said, "Dear Prince, +Pledge to my daughters troth by your right hand, +As they will pledge their troth to thee, and swear +That thou wilt not desert them, but whate'er +Thou mayst do thou wilt do it for their good." +Theseus, with noble soul, calm and unmoved, +Swore to fulfil his stranger friend's request. +Which being ended, straightway Oedipus, +With his blind hands touching his daughters, said, +"Children, ye now must bear up gallantly +And from this spot depart, nor seek to see +Or hear that which may not be seen or heard. +Tarry no longer; what is now to come +Theseus alone may lawfully behold." +These words of his all that were present heard. +So we departed, and with streaming eyes +Walked by the maidens. Having gone some way +We turned, looked back, and saw that Oedipus +Had vanished, nor did trace of him appear, +While the King stood alone, holding his hand +Before his eyes as though some awful form, +Some overpowering vision had appeared. +And no long time had passed, when he was seen +Falling upon his knees and worshipping +At once the Earth and all the Olympian gods. +But in what way Oedipus left this life +Theseus alone of human kind can tell. +There flashed from heaven no lightning in that hour +To strike him dead; there came not from the sea +A tempest with its blast to sweep him off. +Some envoy from the gods was sent to him, +Or opening earth engulfed him painlessly. +The old man died without disease or pang +To make us grieve for him; by miracle, +If ever man so died. Thinkst thou I dream? +I know not how to show thee that I wake. + + + + +ANTIGONE. + + +Eteocles and Polynices, the unnatural brothers, having fallen by each +other's hands, Creon is King of Thebes. To Eteocles, who had died in +defence of the city, he awards honourable burial; Polynices, who had +fallen in attacking the city, he dooms to lie unburied, a great +dishonour and calamity in Hellenic opinion. Antigone resolves to +disregard the ordinance, and pay the funeral rites to her brother +Polynices. The conflict between the law of the State and the divine +law which Antigone obeys is the moral key-note of the play. Ismene is +Antigone's weaker sister and serves as a foil to her. Antigone is +betrothed to Haemon, a son of Creon. + + * * * * * + +_THE TWO SISTERS_. + +LINES 1-99. + +ANTIGONE. + +Ismene, sister mine in blood and heart, +All woes that had their source in Oedipus +Zeus will bring on us yet before we die. +Nothing there is disastrous or accursed, +No blot of shame, no brand of infamy, +Which in our list of ills I reckon not. +What is this proclamation that I hear +The general has put forth to all the host? +Say, canst thou tell, or art thou ignorant +That those we hate are threat'ning those we love? + +ISMENE. + +To me, Antigone, no word has come +Either of joyful tidings or of bad +Since we of our two brothers were bereft, +Slain in one day, each by the other's hand. +Last night the Argive army marched away; +This much I know, and I know nothing more +To add to or abate our misery. + +ANTIGONE. + +Of that I was assured, and called thee forth +Before the gate to speak to thee apart. + +ISMENE. + +What is it? Something ferments in thy soul. + +ANTIGONE. + +Creon to one of our two brothers grants, +But to the other he denies, a grave. +Eteocles, as they tell me, he has laid +With all due form and reverence in the tomb, +There to be ranked among the honoured dead. +But Polynices' miserable corpse, +It seems, by strict injunction he forbids +All citizens to bury or to mourn; +Ordering that it be left without a grave, +Unwailed, a welcome prey to ravening birds. +This proclamation Creon, worthy man-- +Look thou, look both of us alike--puts forth. +'Tis said he hither comes to publish it, +To all who know it not, nor deems the thing +Of small concern; for whoso disobeys +His penalty is to be stoned to death. +So stands the matter; it will now be seen +Whether thy soul is worthy of thy race. + +ISMENE. + +How, daring maid, can I in such a case, +Whether to loose or bind, assistance lend? + +ANTIGONE. + +Wilt thou take part and aid me? Ponder well. + +ISMENE. + +In what adventure? What is in thy mind? + +ANTIGONE. + +Will thy arm help me to uplift the corpse? + +ISMENE. + +How! Wouldst thou brave the law and bury him? + +ANTIGONE. + +Bury thy brother and mine own I would. +Do as thou wilt, my duty shall not fail. + +ISMENE. + +In face of Creon's edict? Art thou mad? + +ANTIGONE. + +Has he the right to part me from mine own? + +ISMENE. + +Sister, alack! think how our father fell, +O'erwhelmed with hatred and with infamy +Through sins which his own act had brought to light, +His eyes bereft of sight by his own hand; +How she that was his wife and mother too +Perished, self-strangled with a twisted cord, +And lastly our two brothers in one day +With fratricidal hands most ruefully +Upon each other brought a common doom. +Now only we are left, and worst of all +Our fate will be, if, in contempt of law, +Our ruler's will and order we defy. +Think first that we are women, and too weak +Battle to do against the strength of men; +And next, that we are subject unto power, +And must in harder things than this obey. +For my share then, I will entreat the dead +To pardon what I do unwillingly, +And bow to the command of those in power. +High vaulting virtue overleaps itself. + +ANTIGONE. + +I urge thee not; nay, didst thou wish to aid, +My heart would not accept thy partnership. +Hold to thy own opinion; him I mean +To bury; death were honour in that cause. +I in the tomb shall lie with those I love, +A glorious criminal. Longer will last +The praise of those below than those above. +There I shall ever dwell. Then, if thou wilt, +Treat as of no account the claim of heaven. + +ISMENE. + +I lack not piety, but lack the force +To fly in face of public ordinance. + +ANTIGONE. + +Cling to thy specious pretext while I go +To heap the earth upon a brother's grave. + +ISMENE. + +Too daring sister, how I quake for thee. + +ANTIGONE. + +Quake not for me, steer thine own course aright. + +ISMENE. + +At least disclose to none this thy design; +I too will keep it locked within my breast. + +ANTIGONE. + +Avaunt! reveal it! I shall hate thee more +If thou dost not proclaim it to the world. + +ISMENE. + +Hot is thy blood, but chill thy enterprise. + +ANTIGONE. + +I shall please those whom I am bound to please. + +ISMENE. + +Hadst thou the power, but desperate is thy aim. + +ANTIGONE. + +When my power fails I have but to desist. + +ISMENE. + +Where we must fail, not to attempt is wise. + +ANTIGONE. + +Such talk will make thee hateful unto me, +And by the dead man righteously abhorred. +Then leave me with my folly to endure +This dreadful penalty. Come what come may, +Nothing will rob me of a noble death. + +ISMENE. + +Art thou resolved? Go, then, and be assured +That though misguided thou art well beloved. + + * * * * * + +_SISTERLY LOVE DEFIES THE LAW_. + +Antigone is caught by the guard paying funeral rites to the corpse of +Polynices, and is brought before Creon. + +LINES 384-581. + +GUARD. + +Behold the guilty one, caught in the act +Of burial. Where is Creon to be found? + +CHORUS. + +Hither he comes returning from the house. + +CREON (_entering_). + +What makes my presence here so opportune? + +GUARD. + +My prince, let mortal man nothing forswear, +For resolution yields to afterthought. +Little I looked hither to come again, +So pelted with the hailstorm of thy threats. +But the good fortune that surpasses hope +Is of all pleasant things the pleasantest; +And so I come in spite of all my oaths, +And bring with me this maiden, who was caught +Decking the grave. This time no lot was cast; +The prize is mine of right, and mine alone. +And now, my prince, take and examine her +Thyself, as seems thee good. I claim my due, +From all these troubles to be let go free. + +CREON. + +Where, in what manner, was your prisoner found? + +GUARD. + +'Twas she that gave him burial; all is told. + +CREON. + +Art thou assured of that thou dost report? + +GUARD. +I saw this maiden burying the corpse +Which thou forbad'st to bury. Is that plain? + +CREON. + +By whom was she espied, and how entrapped? + +GUARD. + +Thus did it happen: When we reached our post, +Confounded by thy dreadful menaces, +We swept away with care each particle +Of dust, and having laid the carcase bare, +Then sat us down beneath the sheltering slope +Of a hillside, where we escaped the stench, +Each stirring up his fellow to the task, +And cursing him who should be slack in it. +So went we on until the sun's bright orb +Had reached the mid-arch of the firmament, +And its full heat was felt, when suddenly +A whirlwind, raising swirls of dust heaven-high, +Swept o'er the plain, stripping the wood of leaves, +Wherewith it filled the air. We with closed eyes +And lips sat bowing to the wrath of heaven. +When this had passed away, after some time, +Appeared this maiden, uttering piercing wails; +Like to the plaintive notes of a lorn bird, +That finds her nest robbed of its callow brood, +Her wailings were, when she beheld the corpse +Once more uncovered; and right bitterly +Cursed she the man whose hand had done the deed. +Straightway a handful of dry dust she brings, +Then thrice uplifting high a brazen urn, +Pours a three-fold libation on the corpse. +We at the sight, start up and quickly seize +The maiden, who was not a whit dismayed. +We charged her with what she before had done, +And what was doing. Nor denied she aught, +But made me feel sorrow and joy at once. +Oneself to have escaped calamity +Is cause for joy; to bring a friend to harm +Fills one with sorrow. But in my account +Of all things mine own safety is the first. + +CREON. + +(_To_ ANTIGONE.) + +Thou, that dost stand with eyes bent on the ground, +Dost thou plead guilty or deny the fact? + +ANTIGONE. + +Deny I do not, but avow my deed. + +CREON. + +(_To the_ GUARD.) + +Thou standst acquitted of a heinous charge, +And mayest betake thee hence whither thou wilt. + +(_To_ ANTIGONE.) + +But thou, answer, and briefly, didst thou know +The proclamation made against this act? + +ANTIGONE. + +I did; how should I not? The words were plain. + +CREON. + +Yet didst thou dare to violate the law? + +ANTIGONE. + +The proclamation went not forth from Zeus, +Or Justice, partner of the gods below, +Who had ordained these canons for mankind; +Nor deemed I proclamations had such power +That thereby mortal man could contravene +Heaven's law unwritten and unchangeable. +That law was not the child of yesterday, +Nor knoweth man the source from which it came. +I was not minded for what men might say +To break that law and brave the wrath divine. +That death would come I know, as come it must +Without thy proclamation, and to die +Before my hour I count it so much gain. +For when a life is full of wretchedness +As mine has been, is it not gain to die? +Little I care if I such doom must meet; +But I care much not uninterred to leave +His corpse that was of the same mother born. +One pains me sore, the other pains me not; +And if to thee I seem to play the fool +To me it seems that to a fool I play it. + +CHORUS. + +She shows the savage spirit of her sire, +And to misfortune is untaught to bend. + +CREON. + +Know that the most self-willed most often fall. +Iron that hath been tempered by the fire +To a surpassing hardness, when it breaks, +We often see shattered most thoroughly; +And a small bit suffices to subdue +The fiery steed. High thoughts beseem not those +Who owe subjection to another's will. +This maid before displayed her insolence +In overstepping what the laws ordained; +And now again displays it, glorying +And laughing in our face over her crime. +It is not I that am the man, but she +If she can thus usurp and go unscathed. +Be she my sister's child or child of one +Nearer in blood than all around our hearth, +She shall not the last penalty escape, +Nor shall her sister. For she, too, I hold, +Conspired to bring about this burial. +Summon her hither. Just now in the house +I saw her raving like a maid possessed. +When wickedness is gendered in the dark +The heart is apt its secret to betray. +But not less hateful is the shamelessness +Which, of foul acts convicted, calls them fair. + +ANTIGONE. + +To lead me to my death, is that enough? + +CREON. + +It is enough. This done, I ask no more. + +ANTIGONE. + +Then why delay, when of thy words to me +Not one gives pleasure or will ever give? +Nor are mine less displeasing unto thee. +And yet what greater glory could be mine, +Than, burying my own brother, I have won? +Well know I, all here present would applaud +But that their tongues by fear of thee are tied. +Sovereigns in many things are fortunate, +And they alone are free in act and speech. + +CREON. + +So thinkest thou; of other Thebans, none. + +ANTIGONE. + +So think they too, but they must cringe to thee. + +CREON. + +Art not ashamed to brave the public voice? + +ANTIGONE. + +It is no shame to pay our kin their due. + +CREON. + +Was not he kin that fell upon our side? + +ANTIGONE. + +His father and his mother both were mine. + +CREON. + +How then do service which offends his shade? + +ANTIGONE. + +The dead man will not second thy complaint. + +CREON. + +He will if he is levell'd with the vile. + +ANTIGONE. + +It was a brother, not a slave, that fell. + +CREON. + +Assailing what the other died to save. + +ANTIGONE. + +The powers below ask these observances. + +CREON. + +The good ask not like treatment with the bad. + +ANTIGONE. + +Who knows but this may be deemed right below? + +CREON. + +Hatred expires not when the hated dies. + +ANTIGONE. + +Not hate but love to share my nature is. + +CREON. + +Go, then, below and love, if love thou wilt, +But while I live no woman shall reign here. + +CHORUS. + +(ISMENE _entering_) + +Ismene, lo! before the gate appears, +A sister's grief o'erflowing in her tears; +The cloud of sorrow gathered on her face +Bedews her roseate cheek and mars its grace. + +CREON. + +(_To_ ISMENE.) + +And thou, too, in my home a lurking snake? +Didst drain my heart's blood, while I little thought +That I was cherishing two traitress fiends? +Wast thou a party to this burial, +Or wilt thou swear that thou art innocent? + +ISMENE. + +I did take part, if she will say I did, +And am content to bear my share of blame. + +ANTIGONE. + +That equity forbids; neither wert thou +Willing to act, nor I to act with thee. + +ISMENE. + +Yet would I not refuse mid thy distress, +Sister, to sail in the same barque with thee. + +ANTIGONE. + +Whose was the deed, the dead and Hades know. +I love not one whose friendship ends in words. + +ISMENE. + +Sister, deny me not the privilege +Of sharing both thy piety and death. + +ANTIGONE. + +Share not my death, nor claim the work in which +Thou hadst no hand; that I die is enough. + +ISMENE. + +What can life be to me, bereft of thee? + +ANTIGONE. + +Ask Creon, he is nearest thee in love. + +ISMENE. + +Why dost thou gird at me thus fruitlessly? + +ANTIGONE. + +My laugh is bitter when I laugh at thee. + +ISMENE. + +What can I do to aid thee even now? + +ANTIGONE. + +What, save thyself! I grudge not thy escape. + +ISMENE. + +Alack! and must I let thee die alone? + +ANTIGONE. + +Yes; for thy choice was life, and mine was death. + +ISMENE. + +But not unspoken was my mind to thee. + +ANTIGONE. + +Thy course was here approved, but mine below. + +ISMENE. + +Yet was the fault of both of us the same. + +ANTIGONE. + +Be of good cheer, thou livest; but my soul +Is with the dead, to whom my care is due. + +CREON. + +Of these two sisters, one, it seems to me, +Has lost her wits, and one was witless born. + +ISMENE. + +O Prince, the reason that is born in us +Abides not in the wretched, but departs. + +CREON. + +From thee it fled when thou didst share her crime. + +ISMENE. + +Without this maiden what can life be worth? + +CREON. + +Say not "this maiden," for she is no more. + +ISMENE. + +Wilt thou slay her that is thy son's betrothed? + +CREON. + +We shall find other fields enough to plough, + +ISMENE. + +Thou wilt not find such unison of hearts. + +CREON. + +I do not want a bad wife for my son. + +ANTIGONE. + +Dear Haemon, how thy father slights thy love. + +CREON. + +Thou and thy marriage are a weariness. + +ISMENE. + +Wilt thou bereave thy child of his betrothed? + +CREON. + +Hades it is that shall these nuptials bar. + +ISMENE. + +It is resolved, it seems, that she shall die. + +CREON. + +There I agree with thee. No more delay. +Slaves, take her in, and henceforth let these maids +Be women, and no more be left at large. +The stoutest hearts are apt to think of flight, +When they perceive that death is drawing near. + + * * * * * + +_THE CONTEST BETWEEN LOVE AND FILIAL DUTY._ + +LINES 631-780. + +CREON. + +Soon shall we know, my son, past prophecy +Whether, apprised of that our fixed decree, +Thou com'st in wrath upon thy bride's account +Or all we do is pleasing unto thee. + +HAEMON. + +My father, I am thine; thy wisdom guides +My steps aright and I will follow it; +No marriage can be dearer to my heart +Than is the blessing of thy governance. + +CREON. + +Be this, my son, implanted in thy breast, +Still to thy father's judgment to defer. +This is the reason for which men desire +To rear obedient offspring in their homes, +Who may confront their father's enemy, +And with him render service to his friends. +The father of unprofitable sons-- +What does he else but for himself beget +Trouble and exultation for his foes? +Never, my Haemon, for a woman's love +Let go thy better judgment. Thou must know +That cold and comfortless is the embrace +Of a bad partner in the marriage bed. +What sore is worse than ill-requited love? +Then cast away this maiden from thy heart, +And let her nuptial bower in Hades be, +Since I have openly convicted her +Of breaking law, by all beside obeyed. +My public act I will not falsify, + +The maid shall die; howe'er she may descant +On sacred kinship. If at home I give +Disorder license, where will order reign? +Whoever governs his own house aright +Will be a worthy member of the State. +The bold transgressor that defies the law, +Or thinks to override authority, +Need look for no encouragement from me +The lawful ruler's word must be obeyed, +Just or unjust, in great things and in small. +Who does this, I will warrant him a man +Fit to command alike and to obey, +And one who in the battle's storm will stand +Bravely and staunchly at his comrade's side. +There is no greater curse than anarchy; +It works the overthrow of commonwealths, +Lays homes in ruin, in the battle-field +Puts armies to the rout, while victory +And safety are the meed of discipline. +So must we stand by that which is decreed, +And not to an usurping woman yield. +Fall if we must, a man shall deal the blow: +'Twere shame to think a woman vanquished us. + +CHORUS. + +If age our judgment dims not, thou hast dealt +Rightly with all things which thy speech concerns. + +HAEMON. + +Father, the favour of the gods bestows +Wisdom, most precious of all precious gifts. +That thou hast not the right upon thy side +I cannot, if I could I would not, show. +Yet may another's argument be fair. +Nature hath set me to keep watch for thee +Over the words, acts, censures of the world. +The common man, awed by thy presence, shrinks +From uttering what he knows will please thee not. +I hear beneath the cloud of secrecy +How the whole city for this maiden mourns. +She, who the least deserves it, dies, they say, +A cruel death for a most noble deed, +The rescue of her brother's mangled corpse +From being left unburied on the field, +A prey to ravening dogs and carrion birds. +Has she not merited a crown of gold? +Such murmurs darkling spread among the crowd. +Father, I hold no treasure half so dear +As thy well-being; greater joy or pride +Is none than sons have in an honoured sire, +Or than a sire has in an honoured son. +Keep not one changeless temper in thy breast, +Nor fancy that thou art infallible. +Whoever dreams that he alone is wise, +Or is in speech or spirit singular, +Will, when unmasked, betray his emptiness. +Wise though a man may be, it is no shame +To have an open mind and flexible. +Thou seest by the winter torrent's side +The trees that bend go with their limbs unscathed, +While those that bend not perish root and branch. +And so the sailor who keeps taut the sheet, +And stiffly battles with the tempest's force, +Is apt thenceforth to float keel uppermost. +Bend, then, and give thy spirit room to change. +If from the lips of a young counsellor +Wisdom can come, I say it were far best +If we could all be born omniscient, +But as omniscience is not given to man, +'Tis well to good advisers to give ear. + +CHORUS. + +Prince, it beseems ye both, if either says +Aught apt, to listen; both have argued well. + +CREON. + +And shall our hoary hairs be put to school, +And shall we take instruction from this boy? + +HAEMON. + +In naught that is not right. Young as I am, +Thou shouldst my reasons weigh, not count my years. + +CREON. + +Does reason bid thee second anarchy? + +HAEMON. + +I would not ask e'en justice for the bad. + +CREON. + +Is not yon maiden sick of that disease? + +HAEMON. + +Not so avers the common voice of Thebes. + +CREON. + +Shall I my duty from the commons learn? + +HAEMON. + +Seest thou how youthful is that sentiment? + +CREON. + +Am I to govern by another's will? + +HAEMON. + +That is no state which owns one man for lord. + +CREON. + +Is not the state the ruler's property? + +HAEMON. + +Thou wouldst reign well over a desert land. + +CREON. + +The boy, it seems, will fight for yonder maid. + +HAEMON. + +If thou'rt the maid; it is for thee I care. + +CREON. + +Villain, why art thou wrangling with thy sire? + +HAEMON. + +Because thou errest from the path of right. + +CREON. + +Err I in claiming reverence for my state? + +HAEMON + +Reverence upon religion tramples not. + +CREON. + +O caitiff soul, thrall of a woman's face! + +HAEMON + +Thou wilt not see me by aught base enthralled. + +CREON. + +Yet is thy whole discourse a plea for her. + +HAEMON. + +For thee and me, and for the gods below. + +CREON. + +This maid shall never be thy living bride. + +HAEMON. + +Then will she die, and will not die alone. + +CREON. + +Hast thou the effrontery thus to threaten me? + +HAEMON. + +To gainsay folly, call'st thou that a threat? + +CREON. + +Thou'lt rue thy preaching, void thyself of sense. + +HAEMON. + +I'd say thou dotest, wert thou not my sire. + +CREON. + +Slave of a woman, do not gird at me! + +HAEMON. + +Wouldst thou have all the talking to thyself? + +CREON. + +Indeed! By heaven above, thou shalt repent! +Thus censuring first and then reviling me. +Bring out that hateful thing that she may die +Forthwith, and here before her lover's eyes. + +HAEMON. + +Never before my eyes, believe it not; +A witness of her death I will not be, +Nor shalt thou look upon my face again. +Rave at the friends who will thy raving brook. + +(_Exit_ HAEMON.) + +CHORUS. + +O Prince, the youth has rushed away in wrath, +And at his years anguish is violent. + +CREON. + +Let him go vent his overweening pride; +These maidens twain shall not escape from death. + +CHORUS. + +What? Is it thy resolve that both shall die? + +CREON. + +Not she that took no part. Thou hast well said. + +CHORUS. + +What is to be the manner of her death? + +CREON. + +I will convey her to a lonely place, +And shut her in a rock-hewn prison-house, +With food sufficient, for religion's sake, +Whereby we from pollution save the State. +There unto Hades, her sole deity, +Pattering her prayers, she will drive death away, +Or at the last be taught how vain it is +To spend devotion on the shades below. + + * * * * * + +_THE POWER OF LOVE._ + +LINES 781-800. + +CHORUS. + +Unconquered love, against whose might +Wealth's golden mansion hath no ward, +That in the maiden's dimpled cheek by night +Keepest thy guard; +The ocean wave to bear thy tread is taught; +The rural homestead, gods, and men are brought +Alike thy power to own; who feels it is distraught. +'Tis thou that upright hearts and pure dost lead +From virtue's ways to ways of sin. +'Tis thou whose influence in our Thebes does breed +Strife among kin. +O'er all prevails the charm of beauty's eyes, +Charm that with Law Supreme in empire vies, +For Aphrodite's power all rebel force defies. + + * * * * * + +_ANTIGONE IS SENT TO HER DEATH._ + +LINES 882-928. + +CREON. + +Be sure, of wails and dirges before death, +If leave were given, we ne'er should have an end. +Lead her away and in the rocky vault +Forthwith immure her, as my order was. +There leave her by herself, either to die, +Or linger on in that sepulchral cell. +We of this maiden's blood are clear, and yet +She will no longer dwell with those above. + +ANTIGONE. + +O tomb, my bridal bower, O rock-hewn cell, +My home that art to be, whither I go +To meet my kin, of whom Persephone +In her dark mansion holds a multitude. +Last of the train and most unfortunate, +I now must die before my destined hour. +And yet my hope is sure that by my sire, +By thee, beloved mother, and by thee, +Dearest of brothers, welcomed I shall be. +This hand washed every corpse and decked it out +For sepulture; this hand upon each grave +Libations poured; and, Polynices, now +In tending thy remains I meet this doom. +Yet wisdom will approve my honouring thee: +Had I a mother been and lost a child, +Had I been wed and had my husband died, +I would not thus have braved the public ire. +What is my principle, perchance you ask? +My husband lost, I might have wed again, +I might in time have borne a second child; +But, with both sire and mother in the grave, +Hope of a second brother there is none. +Upon this principle I honoured thee, +Dearest of brothers; but to Creon seemed +A sinner and the worst of criminals. +And now he hales me to the place of death. +From marriage and of bridal hymn cut off, +Cut off from joys of love and motherhood, +And reft of friends, poor maiden as I am, +I must go down into a living grave. +And yet what law divine have I transgressed? +How could I look for succour to the gods? +Whither for comfort go, when piety +Is thus requited with the pains of sin? +If this is righteous in the eye of heaven, +I'll own the justice of my chastisement; +But if the sin be on the other side, +May they but bear that which they lay on me. + + * * * * * + +_THE CATASTROPHE._ + +Creon, having been brought to repentance by the denunciations +of the prophet Tiresias, sets out to bury the corpse of +Polynices, and release Antigone from the cave of death. The +issue is recounted by a messenger to the Queen Eurydice. + +LINES 1155-1243. + +MESSENGER. + +Ye, that by Cadmus and Amphion's shrine +Do dwell, no mortal's life before its end +Will be by me pronounced blessed or unblessed. +Fortune is ever casting down the high, +Fortune is ever lifting up the low; +And none can prophesy what change may come. +Creon I deemed an enviable man: +He from our enemy had saved our state, +And, vested with a monarch's power supreme, +Ruled happy in the promise of his heir. +Now all is gone, for when a man has lost +The things that make life sweet, he lives in truth +No more, but is an animated corpse. +Have in your house what store of wealth you will, +Dwell in the state of sumptuous royalty, +Where joy is absent, I account the rest +Less than a shadow of a wreath of smoke. + +CHORUS. + +What evil has befallen our royal house? + +MESSENGER. + +Dead are some, others guilty of their death. + +CHORUS. + +Who is the murdered, who the murderer, say. + +MESSENGER. + +Haemon is dead, unnaturally slain. + +CHORUS. + +Slain by whose hand, his father's or his own? + +MESSENGER. + +His own, stung by his sire's cruel deed. + +CHORUS. + +O seer, thy prophesy has come too true. + +MESSENGER. + +So stands the case, whereon deliberate. + +(_Enter_ EURYDICE.) + +CHORUS. + +Yonder is the ill-starred Eurydice, +The Queen of Creon; from the house she comes +By chance, or brought by tidings of her son. + +EURYDICE. + +Citizens all, I overheard your words, +As from our portal I was setting forth +To pay my vows to Pallas at her fane. +Just as I drew the bolts that hold the door, +Sounds of disaster to our family +Smote on my ear. Affrighted, I fell back +In my attendants' arms and swooned away. +Repeat what then ye said; I am well schooled +In misery, and can bear to hear the worst. + +MESSENGER. + +Good lady, I was witness of the scene, +And nothing will suppress in my report. +Why tell a flattering tale, when soon the lie +Must be exposed? Plain truth is ever best. +I went as an attendant with the King +To yon high level where, a prey to dogs, +The uncared-for corpse of Polynices lay. +The corpse, with prayers put up to Hecate +And Pluto to look kindly on the dead, +We reverently washed, wrapped the remains +In fresh-plucked boughs, and burned them on a pyre. +Then on the dead we heaped his native earth. +Next to the maiden's bridal bower of death, +Within the hollowed rock, we took our way. +One of us hears afar a wailing shrill +Come from the spot where lay the unhallowed cell. +And running, tells to Creon what he heard. +To Creon's ear, as he drew nigh, was borne +A sound confused of weeping, and he cried +In bitterness, "Unhappy that I am, +Will my heart prove a prophet? Have I come +The most disastrous journey of my life? +Sure it is my son's voice that greets my ear. +Attendants, hasten to the cave of death, +Tear up the stones, creep to the chamber's mouth, +Tell me if Haemon's voice indeed I hear, +Or is it some illusion of my sense?" +We as our master in his anguish bade, +Looked in, and in the inmost cell we saw +The maiden hanging from the roof and dead, +A noose of shredded linen round her neck; +The youth, his arms folded around her waist, +Bewailing his lost bride, his marriage hour +Turned to despair, his father's cruelty. +Seeing him, Creon, with a bitter cry, +Moved towards him, and in anguish shrieked to him, +"My son, what hast thou done? what frantic thought +Possessed thy mind, how wast thou thus distraught? +Come forth, I do entreat thee, son, come forth." +Haemon, for answer, with eyes flashing rage, +Looked mute abhorrence, drew his two-edged sword, +And would have struck his father; but the King +Fled and escaped. Then on himself he turned +His wrath, and without more, into his breast +Drove to the hilt his sword, and conscious still, +Clung round the maiden with his failing arms, +While, swiftly welling from his wound, the blood +Spread over her pale cheek its crimson shower. +There lies he dead, with arms around the dead, +His marriage feast held in the world below, +Teaching by sad example that the worst +Of human evils is a mind distraught. + + + + +AJAX + + +Ajax and Ulysses were competitors for the arms of Achilles. The prize +was awarded to Ulysses. Ajax, deeming himself wronged, sallies forth +from his tent one night to take vengeance on those who had wronged +him, especially Ulysses and the two sons of Atreus. Athene, ever +watchful for her favourite Hellenes, smites Ajax with mental +blindness, so that instead of falling on his enemies, he falls on the +flocks and herds of the camp. Restored to his right mind, and finding +how he has dishonoured himself, he falls upon his sword. + + * * * * * + +_THE HERO'S MADNESS._ + +Tecmessa, a captive with whom Ajax lives as his wife, tells the Chorus +of Salaminian mariners what has befallen their chieftain. + +LINES 284-330. + +TECMESSA. + +Thou shalt hear all as one that shares our lot. +It was the dead of night, and now no more +The camp fires shone, when Ajax took his sword, +Uncalled, and was in act to leave the tent, +And I reproved him. "Ajax," I exclaimed, +"What errand is it upon which you go +Unbidden, summoned by no messenger, +No trumpet call; the host is all asleep?" +Brief was his answer in a well-known strain: +"Peace, woman; silence best beseems thy sex." +I said no more. He sallied forth alone. +What may have there befallen I cannot say. +Back to the tent he came, leading along +As captives bulls and herdsmen's dogs and sheep, +Of which a part he strangled, others felled +And cleft in twain; others again he lashed, +Treating those beasts like human prisoners. +Then rushing out, he with some phantom talked, +Launching against the sons of Atreus now, +Now 'gainst Ulysses, ravings void of sense, +Boasting how he had paid their insults home. +Then once more rushing back into the tent, +By slow degrees to his right mind he came. +But when he saw the tent with carnage heaped, +Crying aloud, he smote his head, and then +Flung himself down amid the gory wreck, +And with clenched fingers grasped and tore his hair. +So a long time he sat and spoke no word. +At last, with imprecations terrible +If I refused, he bade me tell him all, +What had befallen and how it came about. +And I, my friends, o'erwhelmed with terror, told +All that I knew of that which he had done. +Thereat he uttered piercing cries of grief, +Such as had never come from him before, +For in loud lamentations to indulge +He ever held a craven weakling's part, +And, stifling outcries, moaned not loud but deep, +Like the deep roaring of a wounded bull. +But in this plight, prostrate and desperate, +Refusing food and drink, my hero lies +Amidst the mangled bodies, motionless. +That he is brooding on some fell design, +His wails and exclamations plainly show. +But, O kind friends, 'twas to this end I came, +Enter the tent and aid me if ye can; +The words of friends are desperate sorrow's cure. + + * * * * * + +_REMORSE_. + +Ajax bewails his own fall. Tecmessa tries to comfort him, +and turn him from violent courses. + +LINES 430-595. + +CHORUS. + +I know not how, in case so desperate, +To bid thee speak, or bid thee to refrain. + +AJAX. + +Alas! who would have thought my name would prove +[Footnote: There is a play upon the name [Greek: Aias], the first +syllable of which is an ejaculation of sorrow unreproduceable in +English.] +So correspondent to the bearer's state? +Once and again that syllable of woe, +Being with woe o'erwhelmed, I may repeat. +My father once, from this Idaean land, +Crowned with the prize of valour by the host, +And full of glory, to his home returned; +While I, his son, coming to this same land +Of Troy with prowess no whit less than his, +After achievements not less glorious, +Meet from the Argives scorn and contumely. +And yet of this much am I well assured, +That had Achilles living been the judge +To whom his arm and valours prize should go, +Mine, and mine only, would those arms have been. +But now the Atridae to a cunning knave, +My exploits misprized, have surrendered them. +And had not strong delusion warped my sense, +And clouded o'er my vision, never more +Would they have an unrighteous sentence given. +But that stern-eyed, resistless child of Zeus, +Just as I put forth my avenging hand, +Brought madness on me, made me miss my aim, +And dye my sword with blood of slaughtered kine. +They have escaped, and they will mock at me, +Through no default of mine. When deity +Blasts the strong arm, weakness may strength defy. +What now am I to do, since of the gods +I am abhorred, of the Hellenic host +Hated, to Troy and all this land a foe? +Shall I to their own quarrel leave the Kings, +Unmoor, and homeward cross the Aegean wave? +How can I face my father Telamon? +How can he bear to look upon the son +Who comes to him disgraced, without the prize, +When glory's wreath has circled his own brow? +That may not be. Then shall I fling myself +Alone upon the Trojan battlements, +And having done some deed of valour, fall? +That might to the two Kings some joy afford. +That, too, is naught. On something I must think +Whereby I to my agéd sire may prove +That from his loins sprung no unworthy son; +For vile it is to crave for longer life, +When longer life brings no release from ill. +How can addition to the sum of days, +When all is but a respite, joy bestow? +I would not give a doit for any man +Who lets his heart be fired with idle hopes. +To live with honour, or with honour die, +Alone becomes the noble. I have done. + +CHORUS. + +None, Ajax, will pretend that these thy words +Are not thy own, or come not from thy heart; +But now control thyself. Discard these thoughts, +And let the counsels of thy friends prevail. + +TECMESSA. + +Ajax, my lord and master, man knows not +Aught sadder than a bondsman's helplessness. +I, that a freeman for my father had, +First of the Phrygian race in wealth and power, +Am now a slave. So have the gods decreed, +And thy strong arm determined. Of thy bed +Thus made the partner, I am true to thee, +And do implore thee by our household Zeus, +And by the couch which we together press, +Be not so cruel as to leave thy mate +In thraldom, and a prey to slanderous tongues. +Know, when thou diest, thy protection gone, +The Argives will that self-same day drag off +Me and thy helpless child to slavery. +Then will some slave-master speak bitter words, +Voiding his bile on us: 'Behold the mate +Of Ajax, once the hero of our host, +Fallen from her pride of place to menial toil.' +So will they say. For me, where fate may drive +I drift; but shame will be on thee and thine. +Think of thy father, in his drear old age +Bereft of thee; think of thy mother, too, +With her grey head, who puts up many a prayer +That she may welcome home her son alive. +Have pity on thy child, who will be left +In infancy, uncherished, and the ward +Of unkind guardians; lay to heart the woes +Which loss of thee would bring on him and me. +For I have nothing left to which to look +But thee; thy spear has laid my city low, +While, by another doom, my parents both +Have gone to dwell in the abodes of death. +What country can Tecmessa have but thee? +What staff of life? thou art my all in all. +Be mindful of thy mate; to taste love's joy +Is to owe something to the claim of love. +Affection still should be affection's meed; +When kindness leaves no trace upon the soul, +That soul is void of true nobility. + +CHORUS. + +Ajax, I would thy heart could beat with mine, +For if it could, her words would win thy praise. + +AJAX. + +Praise in full measure shall she have from me, +If she has sense to do what I command. + +TECMESSA. + +Whatever thou commandest, I will do. + +AJAX. + +Bring me my boy that I may look on him. + +TECMESSA. + +The truth to tell, I sent him hence in fear. + +AJAX. + +In fear of what? Of all this wretchedness? + +TECMESSA. + +Fear that if thou shouldst meet him, he might die. + +AJAX. + +That would have well beseemed my destiny. + +TECMESSA. + +My care prevented that calamity. + +AJAX. + +I do commend thy foresight heartily. + +TECMESSA. + +What can I do herein to serve thee more? + +AJAX. + +Let me behold the boy and speak to him. + +TECMESSA. + +He is at hand in the attendant's care. + +AJAX. + +Let him come hither, then, without delay. + +TECMESSA. + +My child, thy father calls. Whoe'er thou art +His infant steps that guidest, bring him here. + +AJAX. + +Is the child out of hearing or at hand? + +TECMESSA. + +Behold, the servant leading him is near. + +(_Enter Attendant with_ EURYSACES.) + +AJAX. + +Give me the boy; he will not be afraid +To look upon this bloody slaughter-house, +If verily he is his father's son. +At once we must in his sire's rugged ways +Train the young colt and mould him like to me. +Boy, mayst thou be more lucky than thy sire, +Else his true son, and thou'lt be not amiss. +Already have I cause to envy thee, +In that thou knowest nothing of these woes; +For blessed are the days of ignorance, +When joy and grief are both untasted still. +But when the time is come, see that thou show +My enemies what blood is in thy veins. +Till then, sweet airs breathe on thine infancy. +Be happy, boy, and cheer thy mother's heart. +I ween the Achaean lives not that on thee +Will dare to trample, e'en when I am gone, +So good a warden shall I leave for thee +In Teucer, who shall tend thee well, though now +He is far off, upon the foeman's trail. +And now, my warriors, that have sailed with me, +I crave one service at your loving hands, +And pray ye will of Teucer crave the same: +Bear to my home the boy, that Telamon +And Eriboea may their grandson see, +And he may be the prop of their old age. +My arms, no judges, nor my honour's foe +Shall ere set up as prizes for the host. +My shield, Eurysaces, my son, take thou, +[Footnote: Signifying "him of the broad shield."] +Thy namesake, by its well-knit handles wield +The impenetrable orb of seven-fold hide. +My other arms shall share their master's grave. +And now, Tecmessa, take the boy again; +Shut up the tent, and let us have no wails +Here at the door; women are made of tears. +Shut up the tent, I say; never wise leech +Did patter spells when steel was the sole cure. + +CHORUS. + +I tremble as I hear thy heated words, +The sharpness of thy speech disquiets me. + +TECMESSA. + +Ajax, my lord, what dost thou meditate? + +AJAX. + +Question me not. 'Tis good to be discreet. + +TECMESSA. + +Fear overwhelms my soul. Oh, by the gods, +And by thy child, I pray desert us not. + +AJAX. + +Thou art importunate. Dost thou not know +That I no more am debtor to the gods? + +TECMESSA. + +Hush! Be not impious. + +AJAX. + +Speak not to the deaf. + +TECMESSA. + +Wilt thou not yield? + +AJAX. + +Thou pratest overmuch. + +TECMESSA. + +My lord, I quake. + +AJAX. + +Shut up the tent at once. + +TECMESSA. +I do conjure thee. + +AJAX. + +Small must be thy sense, +If thou dost think to put this heart to school. + + * * * * * + +_THE RESOLVE_. + +Ajax pretends to be softened, and to be going forth only for the +harmless purpose of purification in a running stream, though he is +really going to his death. + +LINES 646-692. + +AJAX. + +Time in its long, immeasurable course, +Turns ever dark to light, and light to dark, +And nothing is past hope; the solemn oath +Is broken, and the stubborn heart gives way. +I, that was hard as tempered steel erewhile, +Am softened now by yonder woman's plaint. +I cannot bear to leave her desolate, +Or my boy fatherless among his foes. +I'll go to the fresh baths which lie beside +Yon cliff, that, having washed pollution off, +I may the goddess' heavy wrath avert. +I'll seek me out a solitary spot, +And there I'll hide this sword, this hateful sword, +Burying it where it shall be seen no more; +Let night and Hades be its armoury, +For ever since I took it as a gift +From Hector, our most mortal enemy, +Our Argive hearts have ne'er been kind to me. +True is the word, the gifts of enemies +Are no gifts, and they bring more loss than gain. +So for the future we shall learn to bow +To heaven's good will, and reverence the Kings; +Theirs is the power, submission is our part. +Whatever is most dread and masterful +Yields to authority: the winter's snow +In time makes way for summer crowned with fruits; +In time the weary round of night gives place +To the white steeds that bring returning day; +In time the blustering tempest leaves at rest +The roaring sea; in time profoundest sleep +Loosens its bond, and lets the sleeper wake; +Why should not time bring wisdom to us too? +By all means shall it. I have lately learned +That we should hate our enemy as one +Who yet may be a friend, and so far serve +Our friend as one that may to-morrow be +A friend no more, since, to the general, +Friendship is but a doubtful anchorage. +But for these matters all is ordered well. +Go in, Tecmessa, duly offer up +Thy prayers that my desire may be fulfilled. +And you, my comrades, honour equally +My wishes, and bid Teucer, when he comes, +Be a good friend to you and think of me. +Now go I forth upon my destined way. +Do ye my bidding, and ye soon may hear +That I have shuffled off this coil of ills. + + * * * * * + +_THE LAST SPEECH OF AJAX_. + +LINES 815-865. + +AJAX. + +The sword is set where it may best strike home, +If leisure were to dally with such thoughts, +The sword that Hector gave, the bitterest foe +And worst that I did ever treat withal; +And it is planted in the soil of Troy, +That hostile soil, fresh whetted for its work. +Carefully have I fixed it where it stands, +That quickly I may die, and painlessly. +So far all's well; in what comes now, O Zeus, +On thee for aid, and with good right, I call. +'Tis no great favour that I crave of thee: +Let some one bear to Teucer the ill news, +That he may be the first to lift my corpse +From off the sword, fresh streaming with my blood. +Let me not, by some foeman first espied, +Be cast a prey to carrion fowl and dogs. +This, Zeus, I ask of thee, and I invoke +Hermes, who leads the dead, that at one bound +Pierced through, and with no lingering agony +I may be laid in my eternal sleep. +Last on the dread Erinnyes I call, +That ever-virgin sisterhood, who see +All that is done among mankind, to mark +How the Atridae have my ruin wrought. +Come, ye swift powers of retribution, come, +And flesh you on the whole Achaean host. +Thou sun, whose chariot traverses the sky, +When on my native land thou lookest down, +Draw for a while thy glittering rein, and tell +The story of my madness and my doom +To my grey-headed father, and to her +That bare me, and that when she hears this news +Will make the city echo with her wail. +But to no purpose are these weak laments; +The thing must now be done, and done with speed. +O death, O death, come and thy office do; +Long, where I go, our fellowship will be. +O thou glad daylight, which I now behold, +O sun, that ridest in the firmament, +I greet you, and shall greet you never more. +O light, O sacred soil of my own land, +O my ancestral home, my Salamis, +Famed Athens and my old Athenian mates, +Rivers and springs and plains of Troy, farewell; +Farewell all things in which I lived my life; +'Tis the last word of Ajax to you all, +When next I speak 'twill be to those below. + + + + +ELECTRA. + + +The subject of the "Electra" of Sophocles is the same as that of the +"Choëphoroe" (the Libation-bearers) of Aeschylus. It is the return of +Orestes from exile to take vengeance on Aegisthus and Clytaemnestra, +for their murder of his father, Agamemnon. Electra plays the same part +which she plays in the "Choëphoroe," while her sister, Chrysothemis, +plays that of gentleness and comparative weakness. Orestes, in this +play, returns with a fictitious story of his death which throws +Aegisthus and Clytaemnestra off their guard. + + * * * * * + +_THE SNARE_. + +The Paedagogos (tutor or governor) of Orestes, to circumvent +Clytaemnestra, tells her a fictitious story of her son's death by a +fall in a chariot-race. Electra is on the scene. + +LINES 660-822. + +PAEDAGOGOS. + +Good ladies, tell a stranger in your land, +Does King Aegisthus in this mansion dwell? + +CHORUS. + +He does, my friend; thou hast conjectured right. + +PAEDAGOGOS. + +Shall I conjecture right if I take this +To be his Queen? She has a queenly look. + +CHORUS. + +Thou'rt right again; the Queen indeed she is. + +PAEDAGOGOS. + +Hail, royal lady. From a friend I bring +News good for thee and for Aegisthus too. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Thy words are pleasing to mine ear; but first +I must inquire of thee, who sent thee here? + +PAEDAGOGOS. + +The Phocian Phanoteus, on errand grave. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Say what it is; for as the name is dear +Of him that sent thee, glad will be thy news. + +PAEDAGOGOS. + +Orestes is no more: that is the sum. + +ELECTRA. + +Alas! alas! I am undone this day. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +What? what? repeat it; listen not to her. + +PAEDAGOGOS. + +Again, I say, Orestes is no more. + +ELECTRA. + +It is my death-blow; I am lost, am lost. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Look to thyself, girl. Stranger, tell me true, +In what way was it that he met his doom? + +PAEDAGOGOS. + +To this end was I sent; thou shalt hear all. +To those great games, the pride of Hellas, came +Orestes, fain to win the Delphic prize. +There, when he heard the herald with loud voice +Proclaim the race, which is the first event, +He entered, dazzling, and admired of all; +And shooting swift from starting-post to goal, +Bore off the prize of glorious victory. +Briefly to speak, exploits so marvellous, +Such proofs of prowess, never did I see. +Know that in every foot-race that as wont +The presidents proclaimed, he, midst the cheers +Of gratulating crowds, bore off the prize; +While heralds loud proclaimed the victor's name, +Argive Orestes, Agamemnon's son, +Heir to the glory of that conqueror. +So far he prospered; but when heaven decrees +That man shall fall, man's might is vain to save. +Another day, when in the early morn, +The chariot race was held upon the course, +Orestes came with many a charioteer. +One an Achaean, one a Spartan, was; +Two with their cars from distant Lybia came; +Orestes with his steeds of Thessaly +The fifth, the sixth was an Aetolian, +With bright bay steeds; then a Magnesian, +Then with white steeds an Aeneanian came; +Athens, the god-built city, sent the ninth; +In the tenth chariot a Boeotian rode. +Taking their stand, each where his lot was drawn, +And as the masters of the games ordained, +At trumpet's sound they started, and at once, +All shouting to their steeds, they shook the reins +To urge them onwards, while the course was filled +With din of rattling chariots; rose the dust +In clouds, the racers, mingled in a throng, +Plied, each of them, the goad unsparingly, +To clear the press of cars and snorting steeds, +So close, they felt the horses' breath behind, +And all the whirling wheels were flecked with foam. +Orestes showed his skill once and again, +Grazing the pillar at the course's end, +The near horse well in hand, his mate let go. +So far had all the chariots safely run; +But now the hard-mouthed Aeneanian steeds +O'erpowered their driver, and in wheeling round, +Just as, the sixth stretch past, the seventh began, +Dashed front to front on the Barcaean car. +Disaster on disaster came: now one +And now another car was overturned +And shattered; Crisa's plain was filled with wreck. +The skilful charioteer whom Athens sent +Then drew aside, slackened his pace and gave +The surge of wild confusion room to pass. +Last of the train Orestes drove, his steeds +Holding in hand, and trusting to the end; +But seeing only the Athenian left, +With piercing shouts, urging his team to speed, +He made for him, and side by side the pair +Drove onward, yoke even with yoke, now one +And now the other leading by a head. +Through all the courses but the last that youth +Ill-starred stood safely in an upright car. +But at the last, slackening his left-hand rein, +As his horse turned the goal, he unawares +The pillar struck and broke his axle-tree. +Out of the car he rolled, still in the reins +Entangled, while his horses, as he fell, +Rushed wildly through the middle of the course. +The whole assembly, when they saw him fall, +Raised a loud cry of horror at the fate +Of him that was the hero of the games, +Seeing him dragged along the ground, his feet +Anon flung skyward; till some charioteers, +With much ado, stopping the headlong steeds, +Released him, but so mangled that no friend +The gory and disfigured corpse would know. +They laid him on the funeral pyre, and now +Have Phocian envoys in a narrow urn +Brought the poor ashes of that mighty frame +For sepulture in his ancestral tomb. +Such is my story. Sad enough for those +Who hear; for those who saw most piteous +Of all the sights that e'er these eyes beheld. + +CHORUS. + +Alas, alas! it seems the noble stock +Of our old Kings is wholly rooted out. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +What shall I call this, Zeus? Is it good luck, +Or gain with sorrow blended? Sad it is +That I should owe my safety to my dole. + +PAEDAGOGOS. + +Why art thou downcast, lady, at my words? + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Strong is a mother's love; no injury +Can make her hate the offspring of her womb. + +PAEDAGOGOS. + +My errand then is bootless, as it seems. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Bootless it is not, and it could not be, +If thou hast brought me certain evidence +That he is dead, who, owing life to me, +Rebelled against the breast that suckled him; +Who, when self-banished, he had left the land +Looked on my face no more; who, charging me +With his sire's murder, threatened vengeance dire, +So that sweet sleep neither by night nor day +Could fold my weary sense, but every hour +Passed in the shadow of impending death. +Now--since this day doth end my fears from him, +And from this maid, whose presence in my home, +Draining the very life-blood of my heart, +Was to me yet more baneful--now at last +Rid of their menaces, we dwell in peace. + +ELECTRA. + +Alas, alas! well may we wail for thee, +Orestes, when thy mother can exult +Over her child's poor ashes. Is this well? + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Not well for thee, with him 'tis well enough. + +ELECTRA. + +Hear, Nemesis, the prayer of him that's gone. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +The right prayer she had heard and ratified. + +ELECTRA. + +Thy tongue is free, fortune is on thy side. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Thou and Orestes soon will put us down. + +ELECTRA. + +We put thee down? We are put down ourselves. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Stranger, thy mission would be blessed indeed +If thou could silence yonder termagant. + +PAEDAGOGOS. + +If I am no more needed, let me go. + +CLYTAEMNESTRA. + +Nay, it would shame my hospitality +And his that sent thee, thus to let thee go. +Come in with me, and leave this damsel here, +To mourn her friend's disasters and her own. + +(_Exeunt_ PAEDAGOGOS _and_ CLYTAEMNESTRA.) + +ELECTRA. + +How say ye? Does yon wretched woman seem +Deeply to mourn and bitterly bewail +The son that has so miserably died? +She goes off mocking us. Woe worth the day! +Dearest Orestes, I have died in thee. +For thou hast carried with thee to the grave +The only hope that in my heart yet lived, +The hope that thou wouldst some day come to venge +Thy sire and me. Now whither can I turn? +I am left desolate, deprived of thee, +As of my father. Once more I become +The slave of those whom I do hate like death, +My father's murderers. What a lot is mine! +But with those murderers I will dwell no more +Under one roof; an outcast at this gate +I'll fling me down, and pine away my life. +Let those within, then, if my grief offends, +Kill me at once. Welcome would be the blow; +Life is a burden, death would be a boon. + + * * * * * + +_THE SISTERS_. + +Electra's sister, Chrysothemis, having found the offering of Orestes +on his father's tomb, brings what she deems glad tidings to Electra, +who meets her with the announcement that the Pedagogos has just +brought certain news of their brother's death. Electra, now reduced to +despair, proposes to Chrysothemis that they should themselves attempt +to slay Aegisthus. + +LINES 871-1057. + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +Joy, dearest sister, has impelled my steps +To haste with no regard for dignity, +[Footnote: Composure in gait and manner was the rule for Hellenic +women.] +I bring to thee glad tidings and relief +From all the miseries thou hast undergone. + +ELECTRA. + +Whence canst thou any aid or comfort draw +For my misfortunes which are past all cure? + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +Orestes has come home. Doubt not my word. +As sure as now thou seest me, he is here. + +ELECTRA. + +Hast thou gone mad, unhappy one, that thus +Thou mockest at my miseries and thy own? + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +By our ancestral hearth I swear to thee +I say not this in mockery; he is here. + +ELECTRA. + +O misery, from what mortal hast thou heard +This story that has gained thy fond belief? + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +It is no hearsay: mine own eyes have seen +The certain proofs of that which I believe. + +ELECTRA. + +What is the token? What has met thy gaze +To fire thy silly heart with fevered hope? + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +Only give ear to what I have to tell, +Then call me mad, or not mad, as thou wilt. + +ELECTRA. + +Speak on, if thou hast pleasure in the tale. + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +All that I saw, I will recount to thee. +When to our old ancestral tomb I came, +I saw a stream of milk fresh running down, +From the mound's summit, and our father's grave +Crowned with a wreath of all the flowers that grow. +The sight amazed me and I looked around, +Fearing lest some intruder might be near. +But when I saw that all around was still, +I drew near to the tomb, and on its edge +I found a lock of hair, freshly cut off. +When I beheld that lock, into my soul +Rushed a familiar image, and meseemed +Orestes must have laid that token there. +I took it up, I opened not my lips, +But in my eyes the tears of joy o'erflowed. +That from one hand alone this gift could come +Is now, as then it was, my sure belief. +Who else could lay it there save you or me? +That 'twas not I, is certain, and no less +That 'twas not you, when scarcely you have leave +To go forth to the temples of the gods; +While, for our mother, she has little mind +To do such things, nor could she go unseen. +It is Orestes that his homage pays. +Be of good cheer, my sister; destiny +Unkind to-day, to-morrow may be kind. +So far it has been adverse, but this hour, +Perchance, may prove the dawn of happiness. + +ELECTRA. + +I pity as I hear thy foolish talk. + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +Why? Is not what I say sweet to thine ear? + +ELECTRA. + +Thou know'st not what thou dost or where thou art. + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +Not know the thing which my own eyes beheld? + +ELECTRA. + +He's dead, poor foolish heart. These proofs of thine +Are good for nothing. Look for him no more. + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +Unhappy me; who was it told thee this? + +ELECTRA. + +One that was present when he met his end. + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +Amazement fills my soul! Where is this man? + +ELECTRA. + +Within there, and our mother's welcome guest. + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +Thy words o'erwhelm me. Who, then, could have laid +Affection's offerings on our father's grave? + +ELECTRA. + +That some one brought them as memorials +Of dead Orestes, likeliest seems to me. + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +Unhappy that I am! And full of joy +I hastened with these tidings, ignorant +Of our dark fate. I left the cup of grief +Full, and I come to see it overflow. + +ELECTRA. + +So stands it now, but do what I advise, +And thou mayest lighten yet this load of woe. + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +How? Can I bring the dead to life again? + +ELECTRA. + +I meant not that, nor was so void of sense. + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +What wouldst thou have, that is within my power? + +ELECTRA. + +I'd have thee bravely do what I enjoin. + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +So it be helpful, I will not refuse. + +ELECTRA. + +Look, without effort nothing will go well. + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +'Tis true, and I will aid with all my might. + +ELECTRA. + +Hear now my resolution. Thou dost know +That we are friendless now; the friend we had +Hades has ta'en and left us desolate. +While I still heard that our Orestes lived, +And all was well with him, the hope remained +That he would come, and venge our murdered sire. +But now that he is gone I look to thee +To lend thy sister aid in taking off +Aegisthus; frankly such is my intent. +Where will thy sufferance end? what hope is left +For thee to look to? woe on woe is thine. +Of thy sire's wealth thou'rt disinherited, +And to this hour hast been condemned to pine +In cold companionless virginity. +Nor deem that thou shalt ever be a bride; +Aegisthus is not so devoid of sense +As to permit a shoot from thee or me +To spring which to his certain bane would grow. +But if thy soul can rise to my resolve, +First to thy sire and brother there below +Thou wilt discharge the debt of piety; +Next a free woman thou wilt be once more, +As thou wast born, and find a worthy mate, +For lover's eyes look to the good and brave. +Then seest thou not what glory thou wilt win +For both of us, embracing my design? +What citizen or foreigner will fail +Whene'er we pass, to pay his meed of praise? +"Look at yon pair of sisters; these are they +That from its fall redeemed their father's house, +That setting their own lives upon the die, +Their enemies, in power uplifted, slew. +To these we all should loving homage pay, +These ever honour at our festivals +And our assemblies for their bravery." +Such things the public voice will say of us, +In life or death our fame will never end. +Consent, dear sister; for thy father strike, +Strike for thy brother, rescue me from woe, +Redeem thyself. Those who are nobly born +Honour forbids to live the butt of scorn. + +CHORUS. + +Foresight in matters such as these is good, +For those who give and those who take advice. + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +Before she spoke, ladies, had not her mind +Been quite perverted, she would have held fast +The caution which she utterly lets go. +What puts it in thy heart, this desperate deed +Thyself to dare, and call on me to aid? +Dost thou not know that thou a woman art? +And that our enemies are mightier far? +While their good fortune waxes day by day, +Ours wanes as fast and leaves us destitute. +Who then that strikes at one so powerful +Can fail to pluck down ruin on himself? +Beware, lest to our ills we add more ill, +If these thy resolutions get abroad. +Little would all that glory profit us, +If we should die an ignominious death. +And death is not the worst that may befall; +It is worse still to long for death in vain. +I do conjure thee, ere thou ruin us +Beyond redemption, and cut off our race, +To moderate thy wrath; what thou hast said +I will regard as unsaid, null and void. +Do thou at last get thee some sober sense, +And yield to power as thou art powerless. + +CHORUS. + +Take her advice; there is not among men +A better thing than foresight and good sense. + +ELECTRA. + +All thou hast said I did anticipate; +What I proposed I knew thou wouldst reject. +Alone, with my own hand, I'll do the deed; +My resolution shall not come to naught. + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +What now thou art, would thou hadst been the day +Thy father died: thou wouldst have ruled the hour. + +ELECTRA. + +In heart I was the same, but not in sense. + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +Strive still to keep the sense that then thou hadst. + +ELECTRA. + +Thy preaching shows I shall not have thy aid, + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +No, for the enterprise is desperate. + +ELECTRA. + +Thy sense I envy, but thy spirit scorn. + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +Thy blame or praise to me is all the same. + +ELECTRA. + +Praise from these lips thou needest never fear. + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +That will be seen hereafter: time is long. + +ELECTRA. + +Get thee away, in thee there is no help. + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +Help is in me, knowledge in thee is not. + +ELECTRA. + +Go, if thou wilt, and tell our mother all. + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +Hate if I must, not so far goes my hate. + +ELECTRA. + +It goes so far as to dishonour me. + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +Not to dishonour but to care for thee. + +ELECTRA. + +And is my justice to be led by thine? + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +Learn to be wise, and thou shalt lead us both. + +ELECTRA. + +'Tis pity when good talkers go astray. + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +Thou hast exactly hit thy own disease. + +ELECTRA. + +What! have I not, then, justice on my side? + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +Justice itself may sometimes lead us wrong. + +ELECTRA. + +Let me not live where justice may be wrong. + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +Do it and thou wilt see that I was right. + +ELECTRA. + +Do it I will, and reckless of thy frown. + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +Thou wilt: and is no room for counsel left? + +ELECTRA. + +Base counsel is a thing my soul abhors. + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +It seems that we shall never be agreed. + +ELECTRA. + +Of that I was convinced a while ago. + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +I will begone: thy spirit will not brook +My counsel, nor can I thy ways approve. + +ELECTRA. + +Go then, but never shall I follow thee, +Entreat me as thou mayst, of that be sure: +Fools only look for that which none can find. +[Footnote: As no help or sympathy can be found in Chrysothemis.] + +CHRYSOTHEMIS. + +If thou dost seem unto thyself so wise +Hug thine own wisdom, soon in danger's hour +Thou wilt confess that I have counselled right. + +(_Exit_ CHRYSOTHEMIS.) + + * * * * * + +_THE RECOGNITION_. + +Orestes enters with the urn which, it is pretended, contains his +ashes. His recognition ensues. + +LINES 1097-1231. + +ORESTES. + +Say, ladies, have we been informed aright, +And has our journey led us to our mark? + +CHORUS. + +What is thy journey's mark? Whom dost thou seek? + +ORESTES. + +I fain would learn where King Aegisthus dwells. + +CHORUS. + +Thou hast not been misled, this is the place. +ORESTES. + +Would one of you announce to those within. +In courteous wise that strangers twain are here? + +CHORUS. + +That will this maid if kinship gives a claim. + +ORESTES. + +Go, lady, then, and tell them in the house +That Phocian envoys for Aegisthus look. + +ELECTRA. + +Alas! ye bear I ween the certain proofs +Of that which has already reached our ears. + +ORESTES. + +I know not what that is; old Strophius +Has charged me of Orestes news to bring. + +ELECTRA. + +Stranger, what is it? fear comes over me. + +ORESTES. + +He is no more, and here behold we bear +His poor remains, gathered in this small urn. + +ELECTRA. + +Alas! for me all doubt is over now; +Here is the sorrow present to my touch. + +ORESTES. + +If for Orestes thou hast cause to mourn +Know that whate'er is left of him is here. + +ELECTRA. + +Friend, if that urn indeed Orestes holds, +Give it, I do conjure thee, to my hands, +That I may weep my own calamities, +And those of our whole race, with this dear dust. + +ORESTES. + +Whoever she may be, give her the urn; +Her wish approves her not an enemy +But a good friend, perchance one near in blood. + +ELECTRA. + +Dearest of all memorials to my heart, +Relic of my Orestes, what a change +From those fond hopes with which I sent thee forth! +Full of bright promise wast thou then, and now +I see thee here reduced to nothingness. +Would I myself had died before the hour +When from the murderous hands that sought thy life +I snatched and sent thee to a foreign shore, +So hadst thou met thy end at once and slept +In thy forefather's tomb. Instead whereof +Thou hast died miserably far from home, +An exile, with no sister at thy side. +I was not there with loving hand to wash +Thy corpse, to lay thee out, or gather up, +As nature bade, the relics of the pyre. +Strange hands those rites performed; and thou art here, +A little dust clipt in a narrow urn. +Unhappy me! how bootless were the pains +Which many a day I spent in nursing thee, +A labour that I loved, for thou wert not +Thy mother's darling more than thou wert mine. +No menial hands tended thy infancy, +But I thy sister, joying in that name. +Now all has vanished in a single day, +And thou art gone, and like a storm hast swept +All off with thee. My father is no more, +Thy sister dies in thee, thyself art dust. +Our enemies exult, and, mad with joy, +Is that unnatural mother, whom to smite +With thine own hand thou oft didst promise me, +By secret messages which destiny, +Unkind to both of us, now brings to naught, +Sending me here, instead of that loved form, +Cold ashes and an ineffectual shade. + +Ah me! ah me! +Poor form. +Alas! alas! +Sent to the saddest bourne. +Ah me! ah me! +Dearest of brothers, thou hast ruined me, +Ruined thy sister, brother of my love. + +Receive me now in that abode of thine, +That, dust to dust, I may abide with thee +Forever there below. When thou wast here, +All things were common to us; now I crave +To be thy mate in death and share thy tomb, +For there I see they do not sorrow more. + +CHORUS. + +Electra, think; a mortal was thy sire. +Orestes was a mortal; calm thy grief +For loss is common to mortality. + +ORESTES. + +What can I say? words to my bursting heart +Are wanting. I can check my tongue no more. + +ELECTRA. + +What is it troubles thee? What means thy speech? + +ORESTES. + +Can what I see be fair Electra's face? + +ELECTRA. + +Her face it is, and in most piteous plight. + +ORESTES. +My heart is wrung by looking on such woe. + +ELECTRA. + +Can one unknown to thee thy pity move? + +ORESTES. + +O beauteous wreck, by heaven and man disowned! + +ELECTRA. + +The picture limned in those sad words is mine. + +ORESTES. + +Woe for thy cheerless and unwedded life. + +ELECTRA. + +Why dost thou gaze on me thus mournfully? + +ORESTES. + +It seems that of my woes I knew but half. + +ELECTRA. + +What have I said to breathe this thought in thee? + +ORESTES. + +'Tis bred by sight of sorrow's effigy. +ELECTRA. + +What thou dost see is of my griefs the least. + +ORESTES. + +What can be worse than what I now behold? + +ELECTRA. + +What can be worse? Life with the murderers. + +ORESTES. + +Murderers of whom? Thy tale of crime unfold. + +ELECTRA. + +My father's murderers, and their slave am I. + +ORESTES. + +What tyrant has imposed on thee this yoke? + +ELECTRA. + +My mother, little worthy of that name. + +ORESTES. + +And how? By persecution or by force? + +ELECTRA. + +By persecution, force, and all that's vile. + +ORESTES. + +And hast thou none to save thee from her hands? + +ELECTRA. + +One such I had, and thou hast brought his dust. + +ORESTES. + +Unhappy maid, my soul does pity thee. + +ELECTRA. + +Only in thee have I such pity found. + +ORESTES. + +I also am a partner of thy woe. + +ELECTRA. + +Art thou some kinsman come I know not whence? + +ORESTES. + +That thou shalt hear, provided these are friends. + +ELECTRA. + +And friends they are, thou mayest confide in them. + +ORESTES. + +Give back that urn, and I will tell thee all. + +ELECTRA. + +Nay, I conjure thee; let me keep it still. + +ORESTES. + +Do as I say and thou wilt not repent. + +ELECTRA. + +O grant my prayer, and rob not this poor heart. + +ORESTES. + +I must not leave it with thee. + +ELECTRA. + +Woe is me, +Orestes, if I may not tend thy dust. + +ORESTES. + +Peace, maiden, peace! thou hast no cause to mourn. + +ELECTRA. + +No cause to mourn, who have a brother lost? + +ORESTES. + +To speak of brothers lost is not for thee. + +ELECTRA. +Have I not then the mourner's privilege? + +ORESTES. + +Naught hast thou lost, and hast no part in this. + +ELECTRA. + +I have, if this contains my brother's dust. + +ORESTES. + +It does not, save in name and in pretence. + +ELECTRA. + +Where, then, does my ill-starred Orestes lie? + +ORESTES. + +Nowhere; for he who lives can have no grave. + +ELECTRA. + +What dost thou say, young man? + +ORESTES. + +I tell thee truth. + +ELECTRA. + +How! does he live? + +ORESTES. + +Sure as I live he lives. + +ELECTRA. + +And art thou he? + +ORESTES. + +Look on this signet ring, +Our father's once, and tell me if I lie. + +ELECTRA. + +Light of my life, most dear. + +ORESTES. + +Most dear indeed. + +ELECTRA. + +Is it that voice I hear? + +ORESTES. + +It is that voice. + +ELECTRA. + +And do these arms enfold thee? + +ORESTES. + +Ay, forever. + +ELECTRA. + +(_To the_ CHORUS.) + +My countrywomen and companions dear, +Behold Orestes that erewhile was dead. +Dead by device now by device alive. + +CHORUS. + +Maiden, we do behold him; at the sight, +The tears of joy are gathering in our eyes. + + + + + +THE TRACHINIAE. + + +Deianira, the wife of Hercules, fears that she has lost her husband's +love, and that it has been transferred to the beautiful captive Iole, +whom he has brought back with him on his return in triumph from the +storming of Oechalia. She bethinks her of a love-charm which she has +long had among her treasures. It is the blood of Nessus, the Centaur, +who, having offered her violence, and received his death-wound from +Hercules in her defence, had perfidiously persuaded her that his blood +would win back her husband's love. The blood, being infected with the +poison of the Lernsean Hydra, in which the arrows of Hercules were +dipped, proves the deadly instrument of the Centaur's posthumous +vengeance. Deianira sends a robe sprinkled with it as a gift to +Hercules, who, having put on the robe to offer his triumphal +sacrifice, expires in fiery torments. + +The play is called from the Trachinian women who form the Chorus. + + * * * * * + +_THE LOVE-CHARM._ + +Deianira imparts the secret of her device to the Chorus, and puts the +fatal robe into the hands of Lichas, the Herald who has brought Iole +to the house, that he may carry it to Hercules. + +LINES 531-632. + +DEIANIRA. + +Good friends, while yonder stranger, ere he part, +Is talking to the captive maids within, +I come forth secretly to speak to you. +What I devise I would to you confide, +And for my trouble I crave your sympathy. +That maid, a maid no more I guess, but wed, +I have received on board my barque, a bale +Of mockery and of outrage for my heart; +And now we twain beneath one quilt must lie, +And share the same embrace. Thus Heracles, +That excellent and faithful spouse of mine, +Repays the long-tried guardian of his home. +To play the angry wife I know not how, +So oft has he been sick of this disease. +But with this wench to dwell in partnership +As second wife, what woman could endure? +My youthful beauty now is on the wane, +While hers is growing, and the lover's eye +Turns from the withering to the blooming flower. +Heracles will, I fear, be mine in name, +In deed, the husband of a younger wife. +But, as I said, no wife not void of sense +Will show her wrath. The talisman, my friends, +That is to work the cure ye now shall hear. +I hold safe treasured in a brazen urn +The keepsake which a Centaur gave of old. +From shaggy Nessus when I was a maid +I had it, 'twas his dying legacy. +He over deep Evenus stream was wont +In his own arms to carry passengers, +Not using oars nor sails to ferry them. +And when, from my paternal home sent forth, +A bride I journeyed with my Heracles, +Bearing me on his back, in the midstream +He laid rash hands on me. I shrieked aloud. +The son of Zeus turned him and quick let fly +A shaft that, hurtling through the Centaur's chest, +Transfixed him. Feeling that his end was come, +The monster said to me, "Old Oeneus' child, +As thou art my last fare, hearken to me: +Thou shall have cause to thank thy ferryman. +If thou wilt bear away this clotted blood +That marks the spot whereon the arrow steeped +In the Lernaean Hydra's venom fell; +In it thou'lt ever find a spell to bind +The heart of Heracles, and to prevent +His loving any woman in thy stead." +Of this love-charm, my friends, bethinking me, +As, kept with care, it in my closet lay, +I steeped a robe in it, adding whate'er +The Centaur bade, and now my work is done. +Black arts I know not nor desire to know, +And all who practise such abominate; +But if so be, we can with this love-charm +Win from yon maid the heart of Heracles, +The means are found, unless my plan to thee +Seems ill-advised; if so, I give it o'er. + +CHORUS. + +Nay, if in any plan we could confide, +Thine, in our judgment, is not ill-advised. + +DEIANIRA. + +So far I can confide as judgment serves, +For no trial of the charm has yet been made. + +CHORUS. + +Then make one; knowledge that thou seemst to have +Thou hast not, till experience set its seal. + +DEIANIRA. + +All doubts will soon be cleared; here Lichas comes +Forth from the house, and soon he will be here. +Only, my friends, keep ye my counsel well; +Sin in the dark and thou shalt not be sham'd. + +LICHAS. + +Daughter of Oeneus, what are thy commands? +Too long already have we been delayed. + +DEIANIRA. + +To speed thy going I was taking thought, +While thou wert talking to the stranger maid. +Bear this well-woven garment to my lord, +An offering from his Deianira's hand. +Enjoin him straightly that before himself +No man be suffered to put on this robe, +And that it be exposed to no sun's ray, +No sacred altar's fire, no blazing hearth, +Until himself before the gods shall stand +Dight in it on the day of sacrifice. +I registered a vow that when I saw +Or heard of his home-coming, in this robe +I would attire him, that before the gods +Freshly in fresh array he might appear. +For token bear with thee this signet ring, +Which, when he sees it, he will recognise. +Set forth; first keep the law of messengers, +Which bids them not beyond their mission go. +Then what is now my husband's single debt, +If thou canst, double by my gratitude. + +LICHAS. + +Fear not, if I am Hermes' liegeman true, +That I shall fail thy bidding to perform, +To place this casket in thy husband's hands, +And therewith thy assurances repeat. + +DEIANIRA. + +Proceed then on thy road; thou canst report +To my good lord that all is well at home. + +LICHAS. + +I know and shall report that all is well. + +DEIANIRA. + +Thyself didst witness in how gentle wise +We did receive and welcome yonder maid. + +LICHAS. + +The sight astonished and delighted me. + +DEIANIRA. + +Then all thou hast to say is said. I fear +That thou wilt tell of my fond love for him +Ere thou canst tell of his fond love for me. + + * * * * * + +_THE CENTAUR'S REVENGE._ + +Deianira recounts to the Chorus an alarming and portentous incident. +Then Hyllus, the son of Hercules, comes and announces the catastrophe. + +LINES 663-820. + +DEIANIRA. + +Maidens, I greatly fear that I have gone, +In what I did, beyond the line of right. + +CHORUS. + +Daughter of Oeneus, say whence comes thy fear? + +DEIANIRA. + +I know not; but I tremble lest my act, +Done with fair hope, should end with foul mischance. + +CHORUS. + +Thou dost not mean thy gift to Heracles? + +DEIANIRA. + +Tis so, and I would counsel every one +Not to go fast, unless their way is sure. + +CHORUS. + +Tell, if thou may'st, what causes thy alarm. + +DEIANIRA. + +A thing has happened, maidens, which when told +Will fill your minds with awe and wonderment. +The tuft of wool, fresh shorn and bright, wherewith +I spread the ointment on that robe of state, +By no one of my household train destroyed, +But self-consumed, has vanished out of sight. +And on the pavement melted quite away. +That thou may'st know the whole, let me proceed. +Of all the Centaur in his agony, +Pierced by the deadly arrow, bade me do, +I naught forgot, but treasured every word, +As if inscribed on brass indelibly; +What he prescribed and I performed was this, +That I should keep this unguent closely shut +Beyond the reach of sun-heat or of fire, +Until the time had come for using it. +And so I did; but now, the occasion ripe, +I in my secret chamber laid it on, +With wool shorn from a sheep of our own flock; +And letting not the sunlight touch my gift, +Folded it in a casket, as ye know. +Entering the house again, I saw a sight +Passing the wit of man to understand: +The tuft of wool with which I had laid on +The unguent, I by chance had thrown aside +Into the sunshine, where, as it grew warm, +It crumbled all away, and on the ground +Lay scattered, as when wood is being sawn +We see the dust fall from the biting saw. +So did it look; and after, from the earth +Where it had lain, a clotted foam broke forth, +As when in mellow Autumn the rich juice +Of Bacchic vine is spilled upon the ground. +My mind distraught knows not which way to turn, +But something dreadful have I surely done. +How should the Centaur, in his agony, +Have sought to serve her that had caused his death? +He could not. To avenge him on the hand +That sped the shaft he cozened me, and I +See his fell purpose when it is too late. +I, if my boding soul deceive me not, +Alone shall be my hero's murderess. +That by which Nessus died was Chiron's bane, +Immortal though he was, all animals +Struck by it die; and shall not the dark blood, +That, poisoned by it, flowed from Nessus' wound, +Be fatal to my lord? Surely it will. +But if my lord miscarry, my resolve +Is fixed to keep him company in death. +A life of infamy she cannot bear +That would be true to her nobility. + +CHORUS. + +Shudder we must where is much cause for fear, +Yet let us hope till the event decides. + +DEIANIRA. + +Hope, where the act is guilty, there is none, +Or none that can bring comfort to the breast. + +CHORUS. + +But against those that sin unwittingly, +Anger is mild, and will be mild to thee. + +DEIANIRA. + +Ay, so say those that of the guilt are clear, +And have no heavy burden on their hearts. + +CHORUS. + +What more thou art in act to say withhold, +Unless thou wouldst unbosom to thy son. +He went to seek his sire and now is here. + +(_Enter_ HYLLUS.) + +HYLLUS. + +Mother! I would that of three wishes one +Could be fulfilled: I would that thou wert not, +Or that another were thy son than I, +Or that my mother had a better mind. + +DEIANIRA. + +What in thy mother thus thy horror moves? + +HYLLUS. + +Know that thy husband, rather should I say +My father, dies this day murdered by thee. + +DEIANIRA. + +Alas! my son, what word has passed thy lips? + +HYLLUS. + +A word too sure of its accomplishment. +The event once born can never be annulled. + +DEIANIRA. + +What dost thou say, my son? whence didst thou learn +That I had done a deed so horrible? + +HYLLUS. + +Learn it I did not from another's lips: +These eyes beheld my father's piteous fate. + +DEIANIRA. + +Where didst thou into his loved presence come? + +HYLLUS. + +Hear and I'll tell thee all. As having stormed +The famous town of Eurytus, he marched, +With spoils and trophies of his victory. +At the Cenaean headland he arrived, +Euboea's point, and there set out for Zeus +Altars ancestral and a precinct green. +Here met I him whom I had longed to see. +As he stood ready for the sacrifice +Comes his own herald Lichas from his home, +And brings thy gift, that robe imbrued with death, +Which he, fulfilling thy behest, put on, +And therein clad, was offering sacrifice, +Twelve steers unblemished, while of beasts in all +He to the altars led a hecatomb. +At first, unhappy one, with jocund heart +He prayed, rejoicing in his brave attire; +But when from the good oak logs and the flesh +Of victims slain, the bloody flame leaped forth. +A sweat broke out on him, and to his sides +The garment clave, enfolding every joint +As by a workman fitted, while his bones +Were racked with shooting pains, and as it seemed +A deadly serpent's venom fed on him. +Then did he loud on hapless Lichas call, +Him who was nowise party to thy crime, +And bade him say what wretch had set him on +To bring the robe. The herald knowing naught, +Said as thou badst him, that it was thy gift. +Whereupon Heracles, his heartstrings grasped +By agonising pains that pierced him through, +Seized Lichas by the ankle, hurled him down +From the cliff's edge upon a wave-washed rock +That jutted from the sea, shattered his skull, +So that his brains streamed mingled with his blood. +At the two sights, of frenzy and of death, +A universal cry of horror rose, +Nor was there one who dared approach my sire; +He in convulsions now sprang up, now fell +With yells which made the neighbouring cliffs, the crags +Of Locris and Euboea's headland ring. +Oft did he cast himself upon the ground, +Long did he utter lamentations loud, +Cursing his marriage, swearing that his tie +To Oeneus had brought ruin on his life. +When he gave o'er, with eye upturned with pain, +Glancing from out the smoke, me, in the crowd, +Weeping he saw, and called me to his side. +"My son," he murmured, "shrink not from thy sire, +Not though it be thy doom to die with him. +Bear me away and lay me, if thou may'st, +Where none may look upon my agony. +If that would pain thee from this hated coast +Ship me at least, and let me not die here." +Obedient to his wish, with much ado +We laid him in the hold and hither brought +Convulsed and bellowing. Ye will see him soon, +Lingering upon life's verge or newly dead. +Mother, of these dark crimes thou stand'st convict, +For which may heaven's high justice deal with thee +And the Erinnyes, if that prayer is meet +For a son's lips; and thou hast made it meet +By murdering, of all dwellers upon earth, +The noblest man, whose peer thou ne'er shalt see. + +CHORUS. + +(_To_ DEIANIRA _who leaves the scene_.) + +Canst thou depart in silence and not see +That silence pleads on the accuser's side? + +HYLLUS. + +Let her go where she will. Fair be the wind +That bears out of my sight that hated barque. +A mother's name is but a hollow sound +When all her doings are unmotherly. +May joy go with her, and such happiness +Be hers, as she has made my sire to feel. + + + + +PHILOCTETES. + + +Philoctetes is the possessor of the bow and arrows of Hercules, +without which Troy, which has now been besieged for ten years, cannot +be taken. Suffering from an ulcer caused by the bite of the Hydra, and +becoming intolerable by his yells of anguish to the Hellenic camp, he +has been put ashore by Ulysses on the lonely island of Lemnos, and +there left for the ten years, whence he has conceived a deadly hatred +of Ulysses and the Hellenic host. His bow and arrows being +indispensable, the crafty Ulysses undertakes the task of inveigling +him, and goes to Lemnos for that purpose, taking with him Neoptolemus, +the young and generous son of Achilles, as a decoy. Neoptolemus, at +the instance of Ulysses, filches from Philoctetes the bow and arrows, +but being overcome by his nobler nature restores them. Here is now a +crisis worthy of the intervention of a god. Hercules descends upon the +scene, bids Philoctetes go to Troy with his bow, and promises to send +Aesculapius to heal him of his sickness. + + * * * * * + +_THE DECOY._ + +Ulysses explains the plan of action to Neoptolemus, and labours to +bend him to his purpose. + +LINES 1-134. + +ULYSSES. + +This is the shore of Lemnos' lonely isle, +By man untrodden, where, O worthy son +Of great Achilles, by our Hellas deemed +Her mightiest chief, Neoptolemus, erewhile +The Melian son of Poeas I cast forth, +The Princes having so commanded me, +Since in his foot he had a wasting sore, +And would not let us sacrifice or pour +Libations undisturbed, but filled the camp +With lamentations wild and blasphemous, +Yelling in agony. Yet why dilate, +On what has happened? We will stint our words; +He may espy my presence, and my plan +Of capturing him be ruined utterly. +Now must thy part be done; look round and see +Where is a rocky cave with double mouth, +So formed that in the winter twice the sun +Falls on the sitter, and in summer time +The breeze wafts slumber through two apertures. +A little way below, on the left hand, +Thou'lt find a spring, if it is running still. +Approach, and signal to me silently +Whether he is near by or is gone forth, +That I may then impart the rest to thee, +And we may jointly execute my plan. + +NEOPTOLEMUS. + +My work, Ulysses, has been quickly done. +Methinks I see the cave of which you speak. + +ULYSSES. + +Is it above us, tell me, or below? + +NEOPTOLEMUS. + +Above us here, and sound of step is none. + +ULYSSES. + +See that he is not sleeping in his lair. + +NEOPTOLEMUS. + +I look, and none in the retreat appears. + +ULYSSES. + +And is there naught to show that man dwells there? + +NEOPTOLEMUS. + +A bed of leaves, as though one couched thereon. + +ULYSSES. + +Is all else bare? Is there no garniture? + +NEOPTOLEMUS. + +There is a wooden cup, the handiwork +Of some rough workman, and these kindling-sticks. + +ULYSSES. + +Thy inventory shows that he is here. + +NEOPTOLEMUS. + +Faugh! here are rags left in the sun to dry, +Full of the running of some putrid sore. + +ULYSSES. + +'Tis plain enough that here his dwelling is. +Himself, too, must be near; for how could one, +Lame with an ancient ulcer, travel far? +He has gone forth either for provender, +Or to bring home some herb which soothes his pain. +Send thy attendant to explore the coast, +Lest unawares I should fall in with him: +All Hellas were not such a prize as I. + +NEOPTOLEMUS. + +The attendant is despatched; watch will be kept. +Go on and tell me what thou dost desire. + +ULYSSES. + +Son of Achilles, what thou cam'st to do. +Thou must do bravely, not with hand alone, +But with thy heart, and if I ask aught new +Blench not; it is to aid me thou art here. + +NEOPTOLEMUS. + +What wouldst thou have me do? + +ULYSSES. + +Beguile the mind +Of Philoctetes by thy wily words. +When he asks who thou art, and whence, reply +Achilles' son; no lie is needed here. +But say thou'rt sailing homeward, having left +The Achaean host in mortal enmity, +Since, when their prayers had drawn thee from thy home, +They having no hope else of taking Troy, +They did refuse the arms Achilles bore +To the right heir, when he demanded them, +And gave them to Ulysses, heaping all +The foul reproaches that thou wilt on me, +For they'll not hurt me. If thou dost this not, +Thou wilt bring woe on the whole Argive host, +For if we fail yon archer's bow to win, +Thou ne'er shalt conquer the Dardanian land. +That thou canst safely and with confidence +Approach him, while I cannot, this will prove: +Thou didst not sail constrained by any oath, +Nor by compulsion, nor in the first fleet; +But I can nothing of all this deny. +Me if, still master of his arms, he sees, +I am undone, and shall undo thee too. +Thy task, then, is out of his hands to steal +By subtlety, the unconquerable bow. +Well do I know thy nature is not formed +For falsehood, nor for treacherous device, +But still success is sweet; stretch but a point, +To-morrow we'll return to righteousness. +For a small part of one brief day consent +To play the knave, then to the end of life +Be virtue's paragon and cynosure. + +NEOPTOLEMUS. + +Son of Laertes, what my ears abhor +To hear, my hand abhors to execute. +So was it, as they tell me, with my sire. +To take the man by force and not by guile +I am prepared: he is alone and lame, +While we are many: he would strive in vain. +Commissioned as I am to second thee, +I must be loyal, but would rather lose +With honour, than dishonourably win. + +ULYSSES. + +Son of a glorious sire, myself in youth +Was ready with my hand, and slow of tongue. +Experience has taught me that the tongue +Is a man's leading member, not his hand. + +NEOPTOLEMUS. + +What is it thou dost bid me do but lie? + +ULYSSES. + +I bid thee Philoctetes circumvent. + +NEOPTOLEMUS. + +Will not persuasion work as well as guile? + +ULYSSES. + +He will not yield, and force him thou canst not. + +NEOPTOLEMUS. + +Has he such might as to defy us all? + +ULYSSES. + +He has the unerring arrows winged with death. + +NEOPTOLEMUS. + +Is it not safe e'en to encounter him? + +ULYSSES. + +Only if thou canst snare him as I say. + +NEOPTOLEMUS. + +Seems it not shameful to thee thus to lie? + +ULYSSES. + +No, if the lie alone can do our work. + +NEOPTOLEMUS. + +How look him in the face and say such things? + +ULYSSES. + +With gain in view our scruples must give way. + +NEOPTOLEMUS. + +Suppose him brought to Troy, what gain to me? + +ULYSSES. + +Troy can be taken only by his bow. + +NEOPTOLEMUS. + +I, then, am not to be her conqueror. + +ULYSSES. + +Not by thyself, nor without thee the bow. + +NEOPTOLEMUS. + +If so it be, the bow must be secured. + +ULYSSES. + +Secure it and a double meed is thine. + +NEOPTOLEMUS. + +Prove this to me, and I will do thy will. + +ULYSSES. + +Thou wilt be hailed at once as wise and brave. + +NEOPTOLEMUS. + +Well, I will do it; all my qualms are gone. + +ULYSSES. + +Canst thou remember what erewhile I taught? + +NEOPTOLEMUS. + +That can I, since my word has once been passed. + +ULYSSES. + +Then bide thou here, and wait for his approach: +I will withdraw, lest I should meet his eye. +Our sentinels shall to the ship return, +And if ye seem to me to tarry long, +I will despatch the same man back again, +Having disguised him as a shipmaster, +That unsuspect he may my bidding do. +My son, in riddles he will speak to thee, +And see that thou dost read his riddle right. +I'll to the ship and leave the rest to thee. +May Hermes, god of cunning, help his own, +And may Athene, Queen of victory +And cities, save her votary once more. + + * * * * * + +_THE HERO BETRAYED._ + +Neoptolemus, having filched the bow of Philoctetes, Philoctetes prays +him to restore it. + +LINES 927-962. + +PHILOCTETES + +O pest, O bane, O of all villainy +Vile masterpiece, what hast thou done to me? +How am I duped? Wretch, hast thou no regard +For the unfortunate, the suppliant? +Thou tak'st my life when thou dost take my bow. +Give it me back, good youth, I do entreat. +O by thy gods, rob me not of my life. +Alas! he answers not, but as resolved +Upon denial, turns away his face. +O havens, headlands, lairs of mountain beasts, +That my companions here have been, O cliffs +Steep-faced, since other audience have I none, +In your familiar presence I complain +Of the wrong done me by Achilles' son. +Home he did swear to take me, not to Troy. +Against his plighted faith the sacred bow +Of Heracles, the son of Zeus, he steals, +And means to show it to the Argive host. +He fancies that he over strength prevails, +Not seeing that I am a corpse, a shade, +A ghost. Were I myself, he had not gained +The day, nor would now save by treachery. +I am entrapped. Ah me! what can I do? +Yet be thyself and give me back my bow. +Say that thou wilt. He speaks not; I am lost. +O rock, with twofold doorway, I return +To thee disarmed, bereft of sustenance. +Deserted, I shall wither in that cell, +No longer slaying bird or sylvan beast +With yonder bow. Myself shall with my flesh +Now feed the creatures upon which I fed, +And be by my own quarry hunted down. +Thus shall I sadly render blood for blood, +And all through one that seemed to know no wrong. +Curse thee I will not till all hope is fled +Of thy repentance; then accursed die. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Specimens of Greek Tragedy, by Goldwin Smith + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SPECIMENS OF GREEK TRAGEDY *** + +This file should be named 7073-8.txt or 7073-8.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 8grtr11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 8grtr10a.txt + +This eBook was produced by Juliet Sutherland, William Koven, +Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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