KLIU'TKA
THE
ELECTR A
OF
EURIPIDES
TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH RHYMING VKRSE
WITH EXPLANATORY NOTES BY
GfLBKRT MURRAY, LLD., D.Lirr.
KK<jlU*> I'KOPKte'jUtt (IK UKLKK IN "1 HIC UNIVKRH'I V UP OXl'ORD
T\V5NTY-l'lkST yr
LONDON: (SKORGK ALLEN A UNWIN LTD.
RUSKJN IIODSK 40 MUSKUM STUKK'l 1 , W.C.
[All rights ic l *eivnl]
First Edition, November r
Reprinted, November 1906
,, February 1908
,, March 1.910
M December 1910
February 1913
April 1914
PKRFOKMED AT
THK COURT THKATRU, LONDON
IN 1907
INTRODUCTION 1
THE Eltctra of Euripides has the distinction of being,
perhaps, the best abused^ and, one might add, not the
best understood, of ancient tragedies. a A singular
monument of poetical, or rather unpoetical perver-
sity ; " " the very worst of all his pieces ; " are> for
instance, the phrases applied to it by Schlegel. Con-
sidering that he judged it by the standards of con-
ventional classicism, he could scarcely have arrived at
any different conclusion. For it is essentially, and
perhaps consciously, a protest against those standards.
So, indeed, is the tragedy of Tht Trojan Women ; but
on very different lines. The Electro has none of the
imaginative splendour, the vast ness, the intense poetry,
of that wonderful work. It is a close-knit, powerful,
well-constructed play, as realistic as the tragic con-
ventions will allow, intellectual and rebellious. Its
psychology reminds one of Browning, or even of Ibsen,
To a fifth-century Greek all history came in the
form of legend ; and no less than three extant
tragedies, Aeschylus* Libation- Bearers (456 B*C.), Euri-
pides* Elictra (413 B.c), and Sophocles 1 Eltctra (date
unknown : but perhaps the latest of the three) arc
based on the particular piece of legend or history
now before us. It narrates how the son and daughter
1 Mont of this introduction is reprinted, by the kind permission of
the Editors, from an article in the Independent Jtcvitw, vol. i. No. 4.
ri INTRODUCTION
of the murdered king, Agamemnon, slew, in due
course of revenge, and by Apollo's express command,
their guilty mother and her paramour.
Homer had long since told the story, as he tells so
many, simply and grandly, without moral questioning
and without intensity, The atmosphere is heroic.
It is all a blood-feud between chieftains, in which
Orestes, after seven years, succeeds in slaying his foe
Aegisthus, who had killed his father. He probably
killed his mother also ; but we are not directly told so,
His sister may have helped him, and he may possibly
have gone mad afterwards; but these painful issues
arc kept determinedly in the shade,
Somewhat surprisingly, Sophocles, although by his
time Electra and Clytemnestra had become leading
figures in the story and the mother-murder its essen-
tial climax, preserves a very similar atmosphere. His
tragedy is enthusiastically praised by Schlegel for " the
celestial purity, the fresh breath of life and youth,
that is diffused over so dreadful a subject." "Every-
thing dark and ominous is avoided, Orestes enjoys
the fulness of health and strength. He is beset
neither with doubts nor stings of conscience,"" Espe-
cially laudable is the "austerity" with which Aegisthus
is driven into the house to receive, according to
Schlegel, a specially ignominious death I
This combination of matricide and good spirits,
however satisfactory to the determined classicist, will
, probably strike most intelligent readers as a little
curious, and even, if one may use the word at all in
connection with so powerful a play, undramatic It
INTRODUCTION vii
becomes intelligible as soon as we observe that Sopho-
cles was deliberately seeking what he regarded as an
archaic or w Homeric " style (cf. Jebb, Introd. p. xli.) ;
and this archaism, in its turn, seems to me best
explained as 2 conscious reaction against Euripides'
starching and unconventional treatment of the same
subject (cf, Wiiamowitz in Htrnw, xviii. pp. 214 ),
In the result Sophocles is not only more " classical "
than Euripides | he is more primitive by far than
Aeschylus,
For Aeschylus, though steeped in the glory of the
world of legend, would not lightly accept its judg-
ment upon religious and moral questions, and above
all would not, in tha\ *egion, play at make-believe,
He would not elude the horror of this story by simply
not mentioning it, like Homer, or by pretending that
an evil act was a good one, like Sophocles, He faces
the horror; realises it; and tries to surmount it on
the sweep of a great wave of religious emotion, The
mother-murder, even if done by a god's command, is
% sin ; a sin to be expiated by unfathomable suffering,
Yet, since the god cannot have commanded evil, it is
a duty also. It is a sin that must be committed,
Euripides, here as often, represents intellectually
the thought of Aeschylus carried a step further, He
faced the problem just as Aeschylus did, and as
Sophocles did not But the solution offered by
Aeschylus did not satisfy him. It cannot, in its
actual dtitaiL, satisfy any one. To him the mother-
murder Iike most acts of revenge, but more than
most -was a sin and a horror. Therefore it should
fiii INTRODUCTION
not have been committed ; and the god who enjoined
it did command evil, as he bad done in a hundred
other cases I He is no god of light ; he is only a
demon of old superstition, acting, among other in-
fluences, upon a sore-btsct man, and driving him
towards a miscalled duty, the horror of which, when
done, will unseat his reason.
But another problem interest,. Euripides even more
than this, What kind of man was it -above all,
what, kind of woman can it have been, who would do
this deed of mother-murder, not in sudden fury but
deliberately, as an act of "justice," after many years I
A "sympathetic" hero and heroine are out of the
question ; and Euripides does not deal in stage villains.
He seeks real people. And few attentive readers of
this play can doubt that he has found them.
The son is an exile, bred in the desperate hopes
and wild schemes of exile; he is a prince without
;i kingdom, always dreaming of his wrongs and his
restoration j and driven by the old savage doctrine,
which an oracle has confirmed, of the duty and
manliness of revenge. He is, as was shown by his
later history, a man subject to overpowering impulses
and to fits of will-less brooding. Lastly, he is very
young, and is swept away by his sister's intenscr
nature.
That sister k the central figure of the tragedy, A
woman shattered in childhood by the shock of an
experience too terrible for a girl to bear ; a poisoned
and a haunted woman, eating her heart in ceaseless
brooding* of hate and love, alike unsatisfied hate
INTRODUCTION
her mother and stepfather, love for her dead
father and her brother in exile ; a woman who has
known luxury and state, and cares much for them ;
who is intolerant of poverty, and who feels her youth
passing away. And meantime there is her name, on
which all legend, if I am not mistaken, insists ; she is
A-lektra^ "the Unmated."
There is, perhaps, no woman's character in the
range of Greek tragedy so profoundly studied. Not
Aeschylus' Ciytemnestra, not Phaedra nor Medea.
One's thoughts can only wander towards two great
heroines of "lost" plays, Althaea in the Mehagtr^
and Stheneboea in the BellerGphon*
G. M.
ELECTRA
CHARACTERS IN THE PLAY
CLYTEMNBSTRA, Quern of Argos and Mycenae ; wi,;V<iy ,-/ xVv
ELKCTRA, daughter of 'Agamemnon and Cfytemnesfra,
OiUSSTES, son of Agamemnon and ClyUmnestrut, now in banhkmtnt.
A PEASANT, husband of Ekctrak
AN OLD T&&M) formerly servant to Agamemnon.
PYLADRS, son ef "Strofhios, King $f Pkocu ; friend to Ortstts.
AKGISTHUS, usurping King sf Argos and Myftnat, fvw husband
of Clytemnestra*
The Heroes CASTOR and POLYDIUCES.
CKOKUS of Argive Women, with their LEADER.
FOLLOWJKES Of O&BSTKS J HANDMAIDS of CLYTifiMNEST >A.
The Scene if laid in the mountains of Argos, The play wax
produced bttween the years 4x4 and 412 B.C.
ELECTRA
The teat represents a hut m a destkte mountain tide }
the rmr Inachus is visible in the distance. The
time is tht dust of early dawn^ btfire sunrise, The
PEASANT is discovered in front of the hut,
PEASANT,
Old gleam on the face of the world, I give thce
hail,
River of Ar^os land, where sail on sail
The long ships met, a thousand, near and far,
When Agamemnon walked the seas in war;
Who smote King Priam in the dust, and burned
The storied streets of Ilion, and returned
Above all conquerors, heaping tower and fane
Of Argos high with spoils of Eastern slain,
So in far lands he prospered ; and at home
Hi$ own wife trapped and slew him* Twas the doom
Acgisthus wrought, son of his father's for*
Gone is that King, and the old spear laid low
That Tantalus wielded when the world was young,
Acgisthus hath his queen, and reigns among
His people, And the children here alone,
Orestes and Electra, buds unblown
i EURIPIDES
Of man and womanhood, when forth to Troy
He shook his sail and left them lo, the boy
Orestes, ere Aegisthus* hand could fall,
Was stolen from Argo* borne by one old thrallj
Who served his father's boyhood, over seas
Far off, and kid upon King Stropliios" knees
In Phocis, for the old king's sake. But here
Tk maid Electra waited, year by year,
Alone, till the warm days of womanhood
Drew nigh and suitors came of gentle blood
In Hellas. Then Aegisthus was in fear
Lest she be wed in some great house, and bear
A son to avenge her father. Close he wrought
Her prison in his house, and gave her not
To any wooer. Then, since even this
Was full of peril, and the secret kiss
Of some bold prince might find her yet, ant! rend
Her prison walls, Aegisthus at the end
Would slay her. Then her mother, she so wild
Aforetime, pled with him and saved her child.
Her heart had still an answer for her lord
Murdered, but if the child's blood spoke, what word
Could meet the hate thereof? After that day
Aegisthus thus decreed : whoso should slay
The old king's wandering son, should win rich
meed
Of gold ; and for Electra, she must wed
With me, not base of blood in that I stand
True Mycenaean but in gold and land
Most poor, which maketh highest birth as naught.
So from a powerless husband shall be wrought
A powerless peril. Had some man of might
Possessed hcr ? he had called perchance to light
ELECTRA 5
Her father's blood, and unknown vengeances
Risen on Aegisthus yet.
Aye, mine she is :
But never yet these arms the Cyprian knows
My truth I have clasped her body, and she goes
A virgin still Myself would hold it shame
To abase this daughter of a royal name.
I am too lowly to love violence, Yea,
Orestes too doth move me, far away,
Mine unknown brother I Will he ever now
Come back and see his sister bowed so low ?
Doth any deem me fool, to hold a fair
Maid in my room and seek no joy, but spare
Her maidenhood ? If any such there be,
Let him but look within. The fool is he
In gentle things*, weighing the more and less
Of love by his own heart's untenderness.
[A i he erases ELKCTRA corner out of the hut. She
u in mourning gurb % and carries a large
pitcher on htr head. She speaks without
the PEASANT'S presence*
ELKCTRA.
Dark shepherdess of many a golden star,
Dost sec rne, Mother Night f And how this jar
Hath worn my earth- bo wed head, as forth and fro
For water to the hillward springs I go ?
Not for mere stress of need, but purpose set,
That never day nor night God may forget
Aegisthus* sin : aye, and perchance a cry
Cast forth to the waste shining of the sky
6 EURIPIDES
May find my father's ear. . . . The woman bred
Of Tyndareus, my mother on her head
Be curses ! from my house hath outcast me ;
She hath borne children to our enemy ;
She hath made me naught, she hath made Orestes
naught, . , .
\Ai the bitterness of her tone increase^ tht
PEASANT comes forward.
PEASANT,
What wouldst thou now, my sari one, ever fraught
With toil to lighten my toil ? And so soft
Thy nurture was ! Have 1 not chid thee oft,
And thou wilt cease not, serving without end f
ELECTRA (turning to him with impuhive affection).
friend, my friend, as God might be my friend,
Thou only hast not trampled en my tears.
Life scarce can be so hard, 'mid many fears
And many shames, when mortal heart can find
Somewhere one healing touch, as my sick mind
Finds thee. . . . And should I wait thy woni,
endure
A little for thine easing, yea, or pour
My strength out in thy toiling fellowship ?
Thou hast enough with fields and kinc to keep ;
'Tis mine to make all bright within the door,
*Tis joy to him that toils, when toil is o'er,
To find home waiting, full of happy things,
to EURIPIDES
My checks bleed silently.
And these bruise" d temples keep
Their pain, remembering thee
And thy bloody sleep.
Be rentj hair of mine bead I
As a swan crying alone
Where the river windetb cold,
For a loved, for a silent one,
Whom the toils of the fowler hold,
I cry, Father, to thcc,
slain in misery 1
The water, the wan water* f //// tfiit ;;,
Lapped him, and his head
Drooped in the hwl of slaughter
Low, as one wearieM 3
Woe for the edg^d axe,
And woe for the heart of hate;,
Houndlike about thy tracks,
conqueror desolate.
From Troy over land and sca^
Till a wife stood waiting thce ;
Not with crowns did she stand,
Nor flowers of peace in her hand \
With Aegisthus' dagger drawn
For her hire she strove,
Through shame and through blood alone ;
And won her a traitor's love.
\Ai she ceases ihtrt mttr from right and
left thf CHORUS, consisting of women &f
9 in fatal dnu*
8 EURIPIDES
To fly if men look close and watch my way j
If not, to seek my sister. For men sr.y
She dwelleth in these hills, no more a maid
But wedded. I must find her house, for aid
To guide our work, and learn what hath betid
Of late in Argos. Ha, the radiant lid
Of Dawn's eye lifteth I Come, friend ; leave we now
This trodden path. Some worker of the plough,
Or serving damsel at her early task
Will presently come by, whom we may ask
If here my sister dwells, But soft ! Even now
I see some bondmaid there, her death-shorn brow
Bending beneath its freight of well-water.
Lie close until she pass ; then question her,
A slave might help us well, or speak some sijjn
Of import to this work of mine and thine,
\The two men retire into ambttsh, KM-- 'H 1 -
titters^ returning from thi well.
ELKCTRA.
Onward, labouring trciui,
As on move the years ;
Onward amid thy tears,
O happier dead !
Let me icmcmbcr. I am she, \Strofhe
Agamemnon's child, and the mother of me
Clytemnestra, the evil Queen,
Helen's sister. And folk, I wccn,
That pass in the streets call yet my nnmc
Electra. . . . God protect my shame. *
ELECTRA 9
<"or toil, toil is a weary thing,
And life is heavy about my head 5
irnl thou far off, O Father and King,
In the lost lands of the dead.
)Ioody twain made these things be ;
e was thy bitterest enemy,
d one the wife that lay by thee.
:hcr, brother, on some far shore [Antistropht i,
it thou a city, is there a door
at knows thy footfall, Wandering One ?
10 left me, left me, when all our pain
LS bitter about us, a father slain,
;1 a |irl that wept in her room alone.
[lion couldsl break me this bondage sore,
(Inly thou, who art far away,
,uo'*e our lather, and wake once more. . . ,
Zeus, 7/cus, dost hear me pray ? . .
c sleeping blood and the shame and the doom !
eel that rest not > over the foam
distant seas, come home, come home !
lat boots this cruse that 1 carry ? [Strophe 2,
), set free my brow !
the gathered tears that tarry
rhrouj'ji the day and the dark till now,
y in the dawn are fre'%
at)i<*r, and How beneath
*. floor of the world, to be
is a song in the house of Death ;
m the rising up of the day
*y tfuidc my heart alway,
* silent tears unshed,
i my body mourns for the dead ;
to EURIPIDES
My checks bleed silently.
And these bruise" d temples keep
Their pain, remembering thee
And thy bloody sleep.
Be rentj hair of mine bead I
As a swan crying alone
Where the river windetb cold,
For a loved, for a silent one,
Whom the toils of the fowler hold,
I cry, Father, to thcc,
slain in misery 1
The water, the wan water* f //// tfiit ;;,
Lapped him, and his head
Drooped in the hwl of slaughter
Low, as one wearieM 3
Woe for the edg^d axe,
And woe for the heart of hate;,
Houndlike about thy tracks,
conqueror desolate.
From Troy over land and sca^
Till a wife stood waiting thce ;
Not with crowns did she stand,
Nor flowers of peace in her hand \
With Aegisthus' dagger drawn
For her hire she strove,
Through shame and through blood alone ;
And won her a traitor's love.
\Ai she ceases ihtrt mttr from right and
left thf CHORUS, consisting of women &f
9 in fatal dnu*
ELECTRA
CHORUS,
Some Women.
Child of the mighty dead, \$trophe
Electra, lo, my way
To tfiee in the dawn hath sped,
And the cot on the mountain grey,
For the Watcher hath cried this day :
He of the ancient folk,
The walker of waste and hill,
Who drinketh the milk of the flock 5
And he told of Hera's will ;
For the morrow's morrow now
They cry her festival,
And before her throne shall bow
Our damsels all
P.J.TCTRA,
Not unto joy, nor &wect
Music, nor shining of gold,
The wings of my spirit beat.
Let the brides of Argos hold
Their dance in the night, as of olti ;
I lead no dance ; 1 mark
No beat as the dancers sway ;
With tears I dwell in the dark,,
And my thought h of tears al ^vay,
To the going down of the day.
Look on my wasted hair
And raiment . , This that 1 bear,
EURIPIDES
Is it meet for the King my sire,
And her whom the King begot f
For Troy, that was burned with fire
And forgetteth not ?
CHURUS.
Other Women.
Hera is great !- Ah, come, [dntistropht,
Be kind ; and my hand shall bring
Fair raiment, work of the loom,
And many a golden thing,
For joyous robe-wearing,
Deemcst thou this thy woe
Shall rise unto God as prayer,
Or bend thine haters low ?
Doth God for thy pain have care ?
Not tears for the dead nor sighs.
But worship and joy divine
Shall win thee peace in thy skies,
daughter mine 1
EI.ECTHA.
No care comei.li to God
For the voice of the helpless ; nom.
For the crying of ancient Wood.
Alas for him that is gone,
And for thee, wandering one :
That now, methinks, in a land
Of the stranger must toil for hire,
And stand where the poor men stand,
A-cold by another's fire,
son of the mighty sirt :
ELECTRA S 3
While I in a beggar's cot
On the wrecked hills, changing not,
Starve in my soul for food ;
But our mother licth wed
In another's arms, and blood
Is about her bed.
LEADER.
On all of Greece she wrought great jeopardy,
Thy mother's sister, Helen, and on thee.
[ORESTES and PYLADP.S move out from their con-
cealment ; ORESTES comes forward: PYIADES
beckons to two ARMED SERVANTS and stays
with them in the background,
Kl.KCTRA.
Woe's me I No more of wailing ! Women, fiee !
Strange armc-d men beside the dwelling there
Lie ambushed ! They are rising from their lair.
Back by the road, all you, I will essay
The house ; and may our good feet save us 1
ORESTES (bftween EIHCTRA and tht hut).
Stay,
Unhappy woman ! Never fear my steel
ELRCTRA (in utttr panic).
bright Apollo I Mercy ! Sce ? I kneei j
Slay me not
14 EURIPIDES
O&BSTES.
Others I have yet to slay
Less dear than than.
ELICTRA,
Go from me I Wouldst thou lay
Hand on a body that is not for thee ?
ORESTES,
None is there I would touch more righteously,
ELECTRA,
Why lurk'st thou by my house ? And why a sword ?
ORESTES,
Stay. Listen ! Thou wilt nof gainsay my word.
ELECTRA,
There- -4 am still. Do what thou wilt with me,
Thou art too strong,
ORESTJSS.
A word I bear to thce ,
Word of thy brother,
ELECTRA,
Oh, friend I More than friend I
Living or daad f
He lives ; w let me send
My comfort foremost, ere the rest be heard,
KLEC'i'KA Z {
ELECTRA*
God love thee for the sweetness of thy word I
ORESTES.
God love die twain of us, both thce and me,
ELKCTRA.
He lives ! Prior brother ! In what land wcareth hi?
His exile?
ORBTB,
Nut one region nor one lot
fiis wasted lift hath trod,
KLECTRA.
He lackerh not
For bread I
In exile,
ORPKTFS,
Bread hath lie ; but a man is weak
ELBCTRA.
What charge laid Jhe on thec \ Speak.
ORESTES.
To learn if thou still live, and how the storm*
Irving, hath struck thce.
Wwttd , , .
KLECTRA,
That thou scesf. ; thf s f orra
i6 EURIPIDES
ORESTES.
Yea, riven with the fire of u.uc,
I sigh to look on thce.
ELECTRA,
My face ; arid, !o^
My temples of their ancient glory shorn*
ORESTES.
Methinks thy brother haunts tlicc, being forlorn ;
Aye, and perchance thy father, whom they dew. ,
ELECTRA.
What should be nearer to me than those two?
ORESTES,
And what to him, thy brother, halt so iltar
As thou ?
At need.
ELECTRA.
His is a distant love, not near
OKESTK:.,
But why this dwelling place, this life
Of loneliness?
ELECTRA (with audden iitttrnes$)>
Stranger, I ;*rn n wife. , t
ELECTRA r
ORESTES,!
That seals thy brother's doom
What Prince of Argos . . . ?
ELECTRA.
Not the man to whon
My father thought to give me.
ORESTES,
Speak ; that 1
May tell thy brother all,
ElKCTRA.
'Tis there, hard by,
His dwelling, where I 11 ve> far from men's eyes,
ORESTES.
Some ditcher's cot, or cowherd's, by its guise 1
ELKCTRA (struck with shame for htr ingratitude).
A poor man j but true-hearted, and to me
God-fearing.
ORESTES,
How f What fear of God hath he ?
ELECTRA.
He hath never held my body to his own,
ORESTES.
Hath he some vow to keep ? Or is It done
To scorn thee ?
il EURIPIDES
ELECTRA.
Nay ; he only scorns to si
Against my father's greatness.
OXKSTBS.
But to win
A princess I Doth his heart not leap for pride t
ELECTRA.
He honoureth not the hand that gave the bride,
ORESTES.
I sec, He trembles for Orestes' wrath ?
ELECTRA,
Aye, that would move him, But beside, he hath
A gcntk heart.
ORESTES*
Strange! A ^ooil man. , , 1 '<we;i
He well shall be requited,
ELECTRA.
Whensoever
Our wanderer conies again !
ORESTES.
Thy mother stays
Unmoved "mid all thy wrong f
F.1F.CTRA.
A lover weighs
More than a child in any woman's heart.
ELECTRA 19
ORESTES,
But what end seeks Aegisthus, by such art
Of shame ?
ELECTRA.
To make mine unborn chiMren low
And weak, even as my husband.
ORESTES.
Lest there grow
From t h c e (he avenger r
EIKCTRA.
Such his purport' is :
For which mny I requite him !
OKKVJTFS.
And of this
Thy virgin life Acgisthns knows it?
EI.KCTKA.
Nay,
We speak it not, It cometh not his way,
OEKSTES.
Thuse women hear us, Arc they friends to thee ?
KutcrRA.
Ayej friendi and true. They will keep faithfully
Ail words of mine and thine,
to EURIPIDES
ORESTES (trying her).
Thou art well stayed
With friends. And could Orestes give thee aid
In aught, if e'er , . .
ELECTRA.
Shame on thee ! Sees! thoit not ?
Is it not time ?
ORESTES (catching her txcitcnient),
How time ? And if he sought
To slay, how should he conic at his desire i 1
ELECTRA.
By daring, as they dared who slew his sue !
ORESTES,
Wouldst thou dare with him, if he came, than too,
To slay her?
ELECTRA.
Yes ; with the same axe that slew
My father 1
ORESTES.
'Tis thy message ? And thy mood
Unchanging ?
ElECTlU.
Let me shed my mother's blood,
And I die happy.
ELECTRA 2
ORESTES*
God ! . . . I would that no
Orestes heard thee here,
ELECTRA,
Yet, wottcst thou,
Though here I saw him, 1 should know him not
ORESTES,
Surely. Ye both were children when they wrought
Your parting.
ELECTRA,
One alone in all this land
Would know his face.
ORESTES,
The thrall, methinks, whose hand
Stole him from death or so the story ran i
ELECTRA.
He taught my father, too, an old old man
Of other days than these.
ORESTES,
Thy father's grave . . .
He had due rites and tendance ?
ELECTRA,
What chance gave,
My father had, cast out to rot in the sun.
n EURIPIDES
ORESTES.
Godj 'tis too much ! ... To hear of such things done
Even to a stranger, stings a man, ... But speak,
Tell of thy life, that I may know, and seek
Thy brother with a tale that must be heard
Howe'er it sicken. If mine eyes be blurred,
Remember, 'tis the fool that feels not Aye,
Wisdom is full of pity ; and thereby
Men pay for too much wisdom with much pain,
LEADER.
My heart is moved as this man's. I would fain
Learn all thy tale. Here dwelling on the hills
Little I know of Argos and its ills.
ELECTR.A,
If I must speak and at love's call, God knows,
I fear not I will tell thee all ; my woes,
My father's woes, and -0, since thou hast stirred
This storm of speech, thou bear him this my word
H i s woes and shame ! Tell of this narrow cloak
In the wind ; this grime and reck of toil, that choir e
My breathing ; this low roof that bows my head
After a king's. This raiment . . . thread by threaJ,
Tis I must weave it, or go bare- must bring.
Myself, each jar of water from the spring,
No holy day for me, no festival,
No dance upon the green ! From all, from ill
I am cut off. No portion hath my life
'Mid wives of Argos, being no true wife.
No portion where the maidens throng to praise
Castor my Castor, whom in ancient day^
ELECTRA 23
Ere he passed from us and men worshipped him,
They named my bridegroom I-
And she, she! , , . The grim
Troy spoils gleam round her throne, and by each
hand
Queens of the East, my father's prisoners, stand,
A cloud of Orient webs and tangling gold,
And there upon the floor, the blood, the old
Black blood, yet crawls and cankers, like a rot
In the stone 1 And on our father's chariot
The murderer's foot stands glorying, and the red
False hand uplifts that ancient staff, that led
The armies of the world ! . . . Aye, tell him how
The grave of Agamemnon, even now,
Lacketh the common honour of the dead ;
A desert barrow, where no tears are shed,
No tresses hung, no gift, no myrtle spray,
A ad when the wine is in him, so men say,
Our mother's mighty master leaps thereon,
Spurning the slab, or pcltcth stone on stone,
Flouting the lone dead and the twain that live ;
"Where is thy son Orestes ? Doth he give
Thy tomb good tendance ? Or & all forgot ? "
So is he scorned because he cometh not. , . .
O Stranger, on niy knees, I charge thcc, tell
This tale, not mine, but of dumb wrongs that swell
Crowding- - and I the trumpet of their pain,
This tongue, these arms, this bitter burning brain ;
These dead shorn locks, and he for whom they
died!
His father slew Troy's thousands in their pride :
He hath but one to kill, ... God, but one !
Is he a man, and Agamemnon's son ?
24 EURIPIDES
LEADER,
But hold : is this thy husband from the plain,
His labour ended, hasting home again ?
Enter the PEASANT,
PEASANT.
Ha, who be these ? Strange men in arms before
My house I What would they at this lonely door ?
Seek they for me f Strange gallants should not stay
A woman's goings,
ELECTRA,
Friend and helper !-~Nay,
Think not of any evil These men he
Friends of Orestes, charged with words for me ! r ,
Strangers, forgive his speech.
PlASANT.
What word have they
Of him ? At least he lives arid sees the flay I
ELECTRA,
So fares their tale and sure I doubt it not f
PEASANT.
And ye two still are living in his thought,
Thou and his father ?
ELECTRA.
In his dreams we live,
An exile hath small power.
ELECTRA
PEASANT*
And did he give
Some privy message ?
.LlF.CTRA,
None : they conic as spies
For news of me.
PEASANT,
Thine outward news their eyes
Can sec; the icst, mcthinks thyself will tell
ELECTRA.
They have seen all, heard all, I trust them well
PEASANT.
Why were our doors not open lon^ a(o I -
Be welcome, strangers both, and p;bs below
My lintel. In return for your glad word*;
EC sure all greeting that mine house affords
Is yours, Yc followers, bear in their geai I
Gainsay me not ; for his sake are ye dear
That sent you to our house ; and though my pair
In life be low, I am no churl at heart.
[The PEASANT goes to the ARMED SERVANTS
the backj te hflp thtm with the baggage.
ORESTES (aside to EUJCTRA).
Is this the man that shields thy maidenhood
Unknown, and will not wrong thy father's blood f
2 & EURIPIDES
ELECTRA.
He is called my husband. Tis for him I toil
ORESTES.
How dark lies honour hid 1 And what turmoil
In all things human : sons of mighty men
Fallen to naught, and from ill seed again
Good fruit : yea, famine in the rich man's scroll
Writ deep, and in poor flesh a lordly soul
As, lo, this man, not great in Argos, not
With pride of house uplifted, in a lot
Of unmarked life hath shown a prince's grace,
\To tfa PEASANT, who has rftut //<*,v
All that is here of Agamemnon's race,
And all that lacketh yet, for whom we conic,
Do thank thee, and the welcome of thy home
Accept with gladness. Ho, men ; hasten ye
Within ! This open-hearted poverty
Is blither to my sense than feasts of gold
Lady, thine husband's welcome makes me bolt! ;
Yet would thou hadst thy brother, before all
Confessed, to greet us in a prince's hall 1
Which may be, even yet. Apollo spake
The word 3 and surely, though small store I make
Of man's divining, God will fail us not,
[ORESTES and PYLADBS go in, following Mv
SERVANTS,
LEADER,
never was the heart of hope so hot
Within me. How ? So moveless in time past,
Hath Fortune girded up her loins at last i
ELECTRA r/
ELECTRA*
Now know'st thou not thine own ill furniture,,
To bid these strangers in, to whom for sure
Our btst were hardship, men of gentle breed I
PEASANY,
Nay, if the men be gentle, as indeed
1 deem them, they will take good dicer or ill
With even kindness.
ELECTRA.
s Twas ill done ; but still-
Go, since so poor thou art, to that old friend
W ho reared my father. At the realm's last end
lie dwells, where Taiiaos river foams between
Argos aul Sparta. Long time hath he been
An exile 'mid his flocks. Tell him what tiling
Hath rhanred on me, and bid him hi&te and bring
Meat for the strangers' tending, Glad, I trow,
That old man's heart will be, and many a vow
Wilt lift to God, to learn the child he stole
From denth, yet breathes, I will not ask a dole
From home $ how should my mother help me ? Nay*
i pity him that seeks that door, to say
Oirstes livetli I
PEASANT.
Wilt thou have it so i
I will take word to the old man. But go
Quickly within, and whatso there thou (iuO
Set out for them, A woman, if her mind
So turn, can light on many a pleasant thing
To fill her board. And surely plenishing
We have for this one day. Ti? in such shifts
2 g EURIPIDES
As these, I care for riches, to make gifts
To friends, or lead a sick man back to health
With ease and plenty. Else small aid is wealth
For daily gladness ; once & man be done
With hunger, rich and poor are all as one.
[The PEASANT jw offt* ths lefts EUECTRA &.
into the house.
CHORDS.
for the ships of Troy, the beat [Strophe j
Of oars that shimmered
Innumerable, and dancing feet
Of Nereids glimmered ;
And dolphins, drunken with the lyre,
Across the dark blue prows, Lie fire.
Did bound and quiver,
To cleave the way for Thetis' so f
Fleet-in-the-wind Achilles, on
To war, to war, till Troy be won
Beside the reedy river.
Up from Eubcea's caverns came [Anthtnph* i
The Nereids, bearing
Gold armour from the Lords of Flame,
Wrought for his wearing :
Long sought those daughters of the (!ep,
"Up Pciion's glen, up Ossa's steep
Forest enchanted,
Vjf here Peleus reared alone, afar,
Hjis lost sea-maiden's child, the star
Off Hellas, and swift help of war
When weary armies panted
JiLECTRA 29
There came a man from Troy, aad told [Stropht 2.
Here in the haven,
How, orb on orb, to strike with cold
The Trojan, o'er that targe of gold,
Dread shapes were graven.
All round the level rim thereof
Perseus, on winged feet, above
The long seas hied him ;
The Gorgon's wild and bleeding hair
He lifted and a herald fair,
He of the wilds, whom Mm bare,
God's Hermes, flew beside him,
t 2,
But midmost, where the boss rose higher,
A sun stood blazing,
Aad winged steeds, and stars in choir^
I fyad and Pleiad, fire on fire,
For Hector's dazing :
Across the golden helm, each way,
Two taloned Sphinxes held their prey,
Song-drawn to slaughter :
And round the breastplate ramping catnt
A mingled breed of lion and flame,
H ot-eyed to tear that steed of fame
That found Pirfnft's water.
The red red sword with steeds four-yoked \Epsdt t
Black-maned, was graven,
That laboured, and the hot dust smoktd
Cloudwise tot heaven.
30 EURIPIDES
Thou Tyndarid woman 1 Fair and tali
Those warriors were, and o'er them all
One king great-hearted,
Whom thou and thy false love did slay :
Therefore the tribes of Heaven one day
For these thy dead shall send on thcc
An iron death : yea, men shall see
The white throat drawn, and blood's red spray,
And lips in terror parted,
\Ai they ceasey then enters from tht kft a wy
old man^ bearing <? Iamt 9 a wineskin^ and
& wallet.
DID MAN*
Where is my little Princess ? Ah, not
But still my queen, who tended long a^o
The lad that was her father, , . , How steep-set
These last steps to her porch ! But faint not yet :
Onward, ye failing knees and back with pain
Bowed, till we look on that dear face again,
[Enter ELHCTRA.
Ah, daughter, is it thou ? Lo, here 1 am,
With gifts from all my store ; this suckling lamb
1 -esh from the ewe, green crowns for joyfulness,
id creamy things new-curdled from the press,
A T d this long-storid juice of vintages
Forgotten, cased in fragrance : scant it is,
But passing sweet to mingle nectar-wise
With feebler wine, G()j bear them in; mine eyes . . .,
Where is my ctekP-Thcy arc all blurred with
ELECTRA 31
ELKCTRA.
What tils thine eyes, old friend ? After these years
Doth my low plight still stir thy memories ?
Or think'st thou of Orestes, where he lies
In exile, and my father ? Aye, long love
Thou gavest him, and secst the fruit therrof
Wasted, for thee and all who love thce !
OLD MAN.
Al!
Wasted ! And yet 'tis that lost hope withal
I cannot brook. But now I turned aside
To sec my master's grave. All, far and wide,
Was silence ; so I bent these knees of mine
And wept and poured drink-offerings from the winr
1 bear the stranger*, and about the stone
I, siid myrtle sprays. And, child, I saw thereon
Just at the censer slain, a fkecixl ewe,
Deep black, in sacrifice : the blood was new
About it : and a tress of bright brown hair
Shorn as in mourning, close- Long stood I there
And wondered, of all men what man had gone
In mourning to that grave, My child, 'tis none
In Argos. Did there come . , , Nay, mark me
now . . .
Thy brother in the dark, last night, to bow
His head before that unadorid tomb ?
come, and mark the colour of it* Come
And lay thine own hair by that mourner's tress !
A hundred little things nwkc likenesses
hi brethren kirn, and ihow the father's blood.
ELSCTRA [trying to mask far excitement and resist the
contagion of his).
Old heart, old heart, is this a wise man's mood f , , ,
0, not in darkness, not in fear of men,
Shall Argos find him, when he comes again,
Mine own undaunted . . . Nay, and if it were,
What likeness could there be f My brother's hair
Is as a prince's and a rover's, strong
With sunlight and with strife : not like the long
Locks that a woman combs. . , , And many a head
Hath this same semblancej wing for wing, tho* bred
Of blood not ours, , . , Tis hopeless. Peace, old
mail.
OLD MAN.
The footprints ! Set thy foot by his, and scan
The track of frame and muscles, how they fit !
EtECTRA.
That ground will take no footprint ! All of it
Is bitter stone, ... It hath ? . . . And who hath
said
There should be likeness in a brother's tread
And sister's ? His is stronger every way,
OLD MAN,
jBiit hast thou nothing . . . ? If he came this day
And sought to show thce, is there no one sign
Whereby to know him? . . . Stay; the robe was
thine,
Work of thy loom, wherein 1 wrapt him o'er
That night, and stole him through the murderers 9 door.
ELECTRA 33
EWECTRA.
Thou knowestj when Orestes was cast out
1 was a child. ... If I did weave some clout
Of raiment ? would he keep the vesture now
tfe wore In childhood ? Should my weaving grow
A\$ his limbs grew ? . . . *Tis lost long since. No
more !
O, cither 'twas some stranger passed, and shore
His locks for very ruth before that tomb :
Or, if he fourcd perchance, to seek his home,
Some spy . . ,
OLD MAN.
The strangers 1 Where are they ? I fain
vFould see them, aye, and bid them answer plain . . .
ELECTRA.
Here at the door 1 How swift upon the thought I
Enter ORESTES and PYLADES.
OLD MAN.
High-born : albeit for that I trust them not.
The highest oft arc false. . . . Howe'er it be,
[Approaching thtm,
I bid the strangers hail !
ORESTES.
All hail to thee,
Greybeard 1 Prithee, what man of all the King
Trusted of old, is now this broken thing f
ELECTRA.
TTis he that trained my father's boyhood.
34 EURIPIDES
ORESTES.
How?
And stole from death thy brother i Sayest thou ?
ELBCTRA.
This man was his deliverer, if it be
Deliverance,
ORESTES.
How his old eye pierceth me ?
As one thai testeth silver and alloy !
Sees he some likeness here f
EI.ECTRA.
Perchance *tis joy f
To see Orestes' comrade, that lie feels.
ORESIKS.
None dearer. But what ails the man f He reel*
Dizzily back.
EI.ECTRA.
I marvel. 1 can say
No more,
OLD MAN (in a broken mitt).
Electra, mistress, daughter, pray I
Pray unto God 1
ELICTKA.
Of all things I crave,
The thousand things, or all that others have*
What should I pray for!
ELECTRA a
OLD MAN C
Pray thine arms may hold
At last this treasure-dream of more than gold
God shows us !
ElECTRA.
God, I pray thee ! . . . Wouldst thou more
OLD MAN*
Guzc now upon this muri, and bow bctorc
Thy dearest upon earth!
ELECTRA.
I f*,axe on t n o c '
0, hath time made thcc mad ?
OLD MAN,
Mad, that 1 sec
Thy brother ?
EI.KCTRA,
My . , . i know not what thou ray's'
1 looked not for it , . .
OLD MAN,
I tell thcc, here confessed
Standeth Orestes, Agamcmnon*s son !
ELKCTRA.
A sign before I trust thce I 0, but one !
How dost thou know . . . ?
36 EURIPIDES
OLD
There, by his brow, 1 se<
The scar he made, that day he ten with thcc
Chasing thy fawn, and fell.
ElBCTRA (In a dull voice),
A scar ? 'Tis so.
I see a scar.
OLD MAM,
And fearest still to throw
Thine arms round him thou lovest ?
ELECTRA.
0, no more !
Thy sign hath conquered me, . . . (throwing htrsflj
into ORESTES' arm). At last, at last ll
Thy face like light I And do I hold thcc fast,
Unhoped for f
ORESTES.
Yea, at last ! And I hold thec.
ELECTRA,
I never knew , *
ORESTES.
I dreamed not.
1 ELRCTRA,
Is it he,
ELECTRA 3;
ORSSTES.
Thy defender, yea, alone
To fight the world ! Lo, this day have I thrown
A net, which once unbroken from the sea
Drawn home, shall . . . Q y and it must surely be !
Klsc men shall know there is no God, no light
In Heaven, if wrong to the end shall conquer right
CHORUS.
Comest thou, comest thou now,
Chained by the years and slow,
() Day long sought ?
A light on the mountains cold
Is lit, yea, a fire burneth.
"Fis the light of one that turncth
From warnings manifold,
Hack out of exile old
To the house that knew him not,
Some spirit hath turned our way,
Victory visible,
Walking at thy right hand,
Beloved ; lift this day
Thine arms, thy voice, as a spell ;
And pray for thy brother, pray,
Threading the perilous land,
That all be well 1
ORESTES,
Enough ; this dear delight is mine at last
Of thine embracing ; and the hour comes fast
j8 EURIPIDES
When we shall stand again as now we stand,
And stint not. Stay, Old Man : then, being at hand
At the edge of time, advise mc 3 by what way
Best to requite my father's murderers. Say,
Have I in Argos any still to trust ;
( )r is the lovt^ once borne me, trod in dust,
Even as my fortunes arc ? Whom shall I seek ?
By day or night? And whither turn, to wreak
My will on them that hate us f Say.
OLD MAN.
My son,
In thine adversity, there is not one
Will call thec friend. Nay, that were treasure-trove,
A friend to share, not faltering from love,
Fair days and foul the same. Thy name is gone
Forth to all Argos, as a thing overthrown
And dead. Thou hast not left one spark to j^low
With hope in one friend's heart ! Hear all, ami
know :
Thou hast God's fortune and thine own right hand,
Naught else, to conquer back thy fatherland,
ORBTES.
The deed, the deed ! What must we do ?
OLD MAN,
Strike duwn
Aegisthu* . . . and thy mother.
ORBSTKS*
*Ti$ the crown
My race is run for. But how find him /
ELECTRA 39
OLD MAN,
Not
Within the city walls, however hot
Thy spirit,
ORESTES.
Ha ! With watchers doth he go
Begirt, and mailid pikemen ?
OLD MAN,
Even so :
He lives in fear of thcc, and night nor day
Hath slumber,
ORESTES,
That way blocked 1 -'Tfa thine to wy
What next remains,
Ou> MAN,
1 will ; and thou give ear.
A thought has found me 1
ORESTES,
All good thoughts be near,
For thcc to speak and me to understand I
OLD MAN.
Hut now I saw Aegisthu^ close at hand
As here I journeyed.
ORESTES,
That good word shall trace
My path fur me ! Thou saw'it him ? In what place ?
40 EURIPIDES
OLD MAN.
Out on the pastures where his horses stray.
ORESTES.
What did he there so far ?~- A gleam of day
Crosseth our darkness.
OLD MAN.
Twas a feast, methought,
Of worship to the wild- wood nymphs he wrought,
ORESTES.
The watchers of men's birth ? Is there a son
New born to him, or doth he pray for one
That cometh ? [Movement 0/Ei.FCTRA,
OLD MAN,
More I know not ; he had there
A wreathed ox, as for some weighty prayer,
ORESTES.
What force was with him ? Not his serfs alone ?
OLD MAN.
No Argive lord was there ; none but his own
Household.
ORESTES.
Not any that might know my race,
Or guess ?
OLD MAN.
Thralls, thralls ; who ne'er have seen thy fart,
ELECTRA 4*
ORESTES.
Once I prevailj the thralls will welcome me !
OID MAN.
The slaves' way, that ; and no ill thing for tliee !
ORISTIS.
How can 1 once come near him J
OLD MAN,
Walk thy ways
Hard by, where he may see thec, t-ic he slays
His sacrifice.
ORESW
How ? Is the nwd so nigh t
OLD MAN.
He cannot choose but sec thrr, j,u sin*; by,
And bid thec stay to share the Uast th<:y kill.
ORKSTKS.
A bitter fellow-fearer^ if God will !
OID MAN,
And then . . . then swift be heart and brain, to sec
God's chances !
( )RKSTES,
Aye, Well hast thou counselled me*
But . , . where is she?
45| EOR1PIDKS
OLD MAN.
In Ar^os now, I gue&J
But goes to join her husband, ere the pre^s
Of the feast.
ORKbl'KS,
Why //>cfh not MV mother -tntiVliT
Forth at her husband's side?
OLD MAN,
She lain will watt
Until the gathered country -folk be ROIIP.
Enough ! She knows what eyes a/c turned upon
Her passings in the land !
Ou> MAN.
Aye, all men hate
The unholy woman.
ORESTES,
How then run I set
My snare for wife and husband In one breath ?
Kl.KCTRA (taming forward],
Hold ! It is I must work our mother's death.
( )KBSTKS,
If that be done, 1 think the other lced
Fortune will guide
ELECTRA 42
ELECTRA,
This man must help our need,
One friend alone for both.
OLD MAN,
He will, he will !
Speak on. What cunning hast tkou found to fill
Thy purpose ?
ElKCTRA,
Get thec forth, Old Man, ami quick
Tell Clytemnestra . . . tell her I lie sirk,
New-mothered of a man-child,
OLD MAN,
Thou hast borne
A son I But when }
ELECTRA,
Let this be the tenth morn,
Till then a mother stays in sanctity.
Unseen,
OLD MAN,
And if I tell her, where shall be
The death in this ?
ELBCTRA.
That word let her but hear,
Straight she will seek me out !
44 EURIPIDES
OLD MAN.
The queen ! What can
Hath she for thee, or pain of thine ?
ELECTRO
She will
And weep my babe's low station !
OLD MAN,
Thou hast skill
To know her, child ; say on.
ELKCTRA.
But bring her here,
Here to my hand ; the rest will come,
OLD MAN,
I swear,
Here at the gate she shall stand palpable !
ELECTRA,
The gate : the gate that leads to me and Hell
OLD MAN.
Let me but see it, and 1 die content
ElKCTRA,
First, then, my brother : see his steps he bent . . .
OLD MAN.
Straight yonder, where Acgisthus makes his prayer 1
ELECTRA 4S
KI.KCTKA,
Then seek my mother 1 * presence, and dcclaie
My news.
OLD MAN'*
Thy very words, child, as fho 1 spoke
From thine nwn lips!
Ku-CTRA.
Brother, thine hour is struck
Thou ManiifM in the van of war this day,
Aye, 1 am ilwly. ... I will f>o my way,
It hut sonic m;in will ftuiiie me,
OLD MAN,
Here am I,
To spcctl thec to the end, ri^ht thankfully,
(turning at lie g*es and raising hh hands to
htawn).
'/cus of my siicsj '/cus of the lost battle,
KLKCTRA.
Have pity ; have pity; we have earned it well I
OM>
Pity these twain, of thine own body sprung!
EJ.ECTRA,
Queen o'er Arpvc altars, Hera high,
46 EURIPIDES
ORHSTHS*
Grant us thy strength, if for the fight we cry.
OLD MAN.
Strength to these twain, to right their father's wronp I
ELECTRA,,
Earth, deep Earth, to whom I yearn in vain,
ORESTES,
And deeper thou, father darkly slain,
OLD MAN,
Thy children call, who love thee : hearken thou 1
ORESTES,
Girt with thine own dead armies, wake, O wake !
EiJKCTRA.
With all that died at Ilion for th/ sake , . *
OLD MAN.
And hate earth's dark dcfilcrs ; help us now 1
ELKCTRA.
Uost hear us yet, thou in deadly wrong,
Wronged by my mother I
OLD MAN.
Child, we stay too long.
He hears 5 be sure he hears !
ELECTRA,
And while he hears,
1 speak this word for omen in his ears ;
ELECTRA 47
u Aegisthns dies, Aegisthus dies/ 1 , t , Ah me,
My brother, should it strike not him, but thce,
This wrestling with dark death 5 behold, I too
Am dead that hour, Think of me as one true^
Not one that lives. I have a sword made keen
For this, and shall strike deep.
1 will go in
And make all ready. If there come from thee
Good tilings, all ray house for ecstasy
Shall cry ; and if we hear that thou art dead,
Then conies the other end ! Lo, 1 have said.
ORESTES.
I know all, all.
Er.ECTftA.
Then be a man tcn!.iy !
[OKKSTES and the OLD MAM dtpart.
( ) Women, let your voices from this fray
Flash me a fiery signal, where I sit,
The sword across my knees, expecting it,
For never, though they kill me, shall they touch
My living limbs I I know my way thus much.
[4V;/ goes into tht houif.
CHORUS.
When wlute-haired folk are met
In Argos about the fold,
A story lingercth yet,
A voice of the mountains old,
That tells of the Lamb of Gold :
EURIPIDES
A Iamb from a mother mild,
But the gold of it curled and beat ;
And Pan, who holdeth the keys of the
Bore It to Atreus' feet :
His wild reed pipes he blew,
And the reeds were filled with peace,
And a joy of singing before him Hew,
Over the fiery fleece :
And up on the based rock,
As a herald cries, cried he :
"Gather ye, gather, Argive folk,
The King's Sign to see,
The sign of the blest of God>
For he that hath this, hath all I "
Therefore the dance of praise they trod
In the Atrci'd brethren's hull.
They opened before men's eyes \shithtroph*
That which was hid before,
The chambers of sacrifice,
The dark of the golden door,
And fires on the altar floor.
And bright was every street,
And the voice of the Muses' tree,
The carven lotus, was lifted sweet ;
When afar and suddenly,
Strange songs, and a voice that grew :
tt Come to your king, ye folk !
Mine, mine, is the Golden Ewe ! **
'Twas dark Thyestes spoke.
For, lo, when the world was still,
With his brother's bride he lay,
And won her to work his will,
And they stole the Lamb away I
ELECTRA 49
Then forth to the folk strode he,
And called them about his fold,
And showed that Sign of the King to be,
The fleece and the horns of gold.
Then, then, the world was changed ; [Sttofht ?.,
And the Father, where they ranged,,
nook the golden stars and glowing,
And the great Sun stood deranged
i the glory of his going.
l*o, from that day forth, the East
Bears the sunrise on his breast,
JH! the flaming Day in haven
Down the dim ways of the west
h'iveth, to he lost at etn.
The wet clouds to Noithward heat ;
Anil Lord Ammon's desert sat
'rscth from the South, unslakcn,
For the dews that once were sweet,
'or the rain that God hath taken.
Tis a children's tal<\ that old [dntistropht z
Shepherds on far hills have told ;
iwi we rcrk not of their telling
Deem not that the Sun of gold
>cr turned his iicry dwelling,
Or beat backward in the sky,
For the wrongs of man, the cry
)f his ailing tribes assembled,
To do jintly, ere they die I
>nce, men toll the tale, and tremUccf f
So EURIPIDES
Fearing God, Queen : whom thou
Hast forgotten^ til! thy brow
With old blood is dark and daunted,
And thy brethren, even now,
Walk among the rtars, enchanted*
LEADER.
Ha, friends, was that a voice? Or sonic drean
sound
Of voices shakcth me, as underground
God's thunder shuddering ? Hark, again, and clear 1
It swells upon the wind*- Conic forth and hew !
Mistress, Electm !
RiKCfRA, tf bar* mQfd in htr $uml % \.omti
from tht hduu,
KlJKCTRA,
Friends 1 Some nrws is brought
How hath the kittle ended ?
LKADKB,
i know uaufht,
There seemed a cry as of men massacred I
KLBCTRA.
1 heard it too. Far off, but still J hard.
LKADIR.
A distant floating voicr . . . Ah, plainer now !
ELECTRA $i
EUCTBA.
Of Argive inguish I Brother, is it them ?
LEADER,
1 know not. Many confused voices cry *
Death, then for me ! That answer bids me die.
LEADER,
Nuy, wait ! We know not yet thy fortune. Wait !
KLKCTRA.
No mc%cngcr from him ! Too latc> too late 1
LIADIR,
'I'lif mcssiij^e yet will comr. 1 Ti^ not a thing
So light of compass, to strike down a king.
Enttr it MEHC;ER, running.
Victory, Maids of Argo.% Victory f
Orestes ... all that love him, list to me I * ,
Hath conquered ! Agamemnon's murderer lies
Dead I give thanks to God with happy crie !
EtxcntA.
Who art thou f I mistrust thec* . * * Tils a plot I
Thy biother*s man. Ixiok well. Do^t know me nut f
55 EURIPIDES
ElECTHA,
Friend, friend my terror made me not to see
Thy visage. Now I know and welcome thee*
How sayst thou ? He is dead, verily dead,
My father's murderer . . . ?
MESSENGER.
Shall it be said
Once more ? I know again and yet again
Thy heart would hear. Aegisthus licth slain !
ELECTRA,
Ye Gods I And thou, Right, that seest all,
Art come at last ? ... But speak ; how did he fell f
How swooped the wing of death? . . I cravr
to hear.
MESSENGER,
Forth of this hut we set our faces clear
To the world, and struck the open chariot road ;
Then on toward the pasture lands, where stood
The great Lord of Mycenae. In & set
Garden beside i channelled rivulet,
Culling a myrtle garland for his brow,
He walked : but hailed us as we passed : M How now %
Strangers ! Who are ye ? Of what city sprung,
And whither bound ? " " Thessalians," answer?*?
young
Orestes : M to Alphefls journeying.
With gifts to Olympian Zeus,*' Whereat the king :
"This while, beseech you, tarry, and make full
The feast upon my hearth, We sky a bull
ELECTRA 53
Here to the Nymphs. Set forth at break of day
To-morrow, and 'twill cost you no delay,'
But come ''-and so he gave his hand, and led
The two men in "I must not be gainsaid j
Come to the house. Ho, there ; set close at hand
Vats of pure water, that the guests may stand
At the altar's ven'c, where falls the holy spray,**
Then quickly spake Orestes ; st By the way
We cleansed us in a torrent stream. We need
No purifying here. But if indeed
Strangers may share thy worship, here are we
Ready, King, and swift to follow thee."
So spoke they in the midst And every thrall
I /aid down the spears they served the King withal,
And hied him to the work. Some bore amain
The dcath~vat, sonic the corbs of hallowed grain ;
Or kindled fire, and round the fire and in
Set cauldrons foaming ; and a festal din
Filled all the place. Then took thy mother's lord
The rituil grains, and o'er the altar poured
Its due, and prayed : " Nymphs of Rock and
Mere,
With many a sacrifice for many si year,
May I and she who waits at home for me,
My Tyndarid Queen, adore you. May it be
Peace with us always, even as now ; and all
111 to mine enemies' 1 -- -weaning withal
Thee and Orestes. Then my master prayed
Against that prayer, but silently, and said
No word, to win once more his fatherland.
Then in the corb Acgistlms set his hand,
Took the straight blade, cut from the proud bull's head
A lock, and laid it where the fire was red j
54 EURIPIDES
Then, while the young men held the bull on I
Slew it with one clean gash 5 and suddenly
Turned on thy brother : Stranger, every true
Thcssalian, so the story goes, can hew
A bull's limbs clean, and tame a mountain steed.
Take up the steel, and show us if indeed
Rumour speak true." Right swift Orestes took
The Dorian blade, back from his shoulders shook
His brooched mantle, called on Pylades
To aid him, and waved back the thralls. With ease
Heelwise he held the bull, and with one glide
Bared the white limb; then stripped the mighty
hide
From off him, swifter than a runner runs
His furlongs, and laid clean the flank. At once
Aegisthus stooped, and lifted up with care
The ominous parts, and gazed. No lobe was there ;
But lo, strange caves of gall, and, darkly raised,
The portal vein boded to him that gazed
Fell visitations. Dark as night his brow
Clouded. Then spake Orestes : "Why art thou
Cast down so sudden ? * " Guest, 11 lie cried, " thrre k
Treasons from whence I know not, seeking me,
Of all my foes, 'tis Agamemnon's son ;
His hate is on my house, like war." " Have <loe I "
Orestes cried : "thou fear'st an exile's plot,
Lord of a city ? Make thy cold heart hot
With meat. Ho, Sing me a Thcssalian steel f
This Dorian is too light I will unseal
The breast of Mm." He took the heavier blade,
And clave the bone* And there Aegisthus stayed,
The omens in his hand, dividing slow
This sign from that ; till, while his head bent low,
ELECTRA 55
Up with a leap thj brother Hashed the sword,
Then down upon his neck, and cleft the cord
Of brain and spine. Shuddering the body stood
One instant in an agony of blood,
And gasped and fell The henchmen saw, and
straight
Flew to their spears, a host of them to set
Against those twain. But there the twain did
bland
Unfaltering;, each his iron in his hand,
Edge fronting edge. Til! Hold," Orestes calls :
" 1 come not as in wrath against these wails
And mine own people, One man righteously
1 have slain, who slew my father. It is I,
The wronged Orestes I Hold, and smite me not,
C )ld housefolk of my father 1 " When they caught
That name, their lances fell. And one old man,
An ancient in the house, drew nigh to scan
His face, and knew him. Then with one accord
They crowned thy brother's temples, and outpoured
Joy and loud songs. And hither now he fares
To show the head, no Gorgon, that he bears,
But that Aegisthus whom thou hatest ! Yea,
Blood against blood, his debt is paid this day,
[Hi fftt off t& meet the tf/jm~~ElECTRA standt
at thwgh ttuptfitd.
CHORUS.
Now, now thou shalt dance in our dances,
Beloved, as a fawn in the night !
The wind is astir for the glances
Of thy feet ; thou art robed with delight
1-6 EURIPIDES
He hath conquered, he cometh to free us
With garlands new-won,
More high than the crowns of Alphetls p
Thine own father's son :
Cry,, cry, for the day that is won I
ELFCTRA.
Light of the Sun, chariot wheels of flame,
Earth and Night, dead Night without a name
That held me 1 Now mine eyes are raised to see,
And all the doorways of my soul flung free.
Aeglsthus dead 1 My father's murderer dead !
What have I still of wreathing for the head
Stored in my chambers ? Let it come forth now
To bind my brother's and my conqueror's brow.
[Some garlands art trougkt wt fnm tht hw.t
ELECTRA,
CHORUS,
Go, gather thy garlands, and lay them
As a crown on his brow, many-tressed,
But our feet shall refrain not nor stay them :
'Tis the joy that the Muses have blest.
For our king is returned as from prison,
The old king, to be master again,
Our beloved in justice re-risen :
With guile he hath skin , . .
But cry, cry in joyance again !
[Thtre enter from tht kft ORESTIS and PW.ADBI,
tmt thralls.
ELECTRA 57
ELECTRA,
O conqueror, come ! The king that trampled Troy
Knoweth his son Orestes. Come in joy,
Brother, gnd take to bind thy rippling hair
Mj crowns I . . . what are crowns, that runners
wear
For some vain race f But thou in battle true
Hast felled our foe Aegisthu$ 5 him that slew
By craft thy sire and mine. [She crowns ORESTES,
And thou no less,
() friend at need, reared in righteousness,
Take, Pylades, this chaplet from my hand.
Twas half thy battle. And may ye two stand
Thus alway, victory-crowned^ before my face !
[She crowns PYLADES,
ORESTES.
Kleetra, first as workers of this grace
Praise thou the Gods, and after, if thou will,
Praise also me, as chosen to fulfil
God's work and Fate's. Aye, 'tis no more a
dream ;
In very deed I come from slaying him.
Thou hast the knowledge clear, but lo, I bring
More also. See himself, dead !
[dtlmdants bring in the body 0f AEGISI/WOS sn a bur.
Wouldst thou fling
This lord on the rotting earth for beasts to tear I
Or up, where all the vultures of the air
May glut them, pierce sind nail him for a sign
Far off ? Work all thy will Now he is thine*
58 EURIPIDES
ELECTRA.
It shames me 5 yet, God knows, I hunger sore
ORESTES.
What wouldst thou ? Speak ; the old fear nevermore
Need touch thec.
ELECTRA.
To let loose upon the dead
My hate 1 Perchance to rouse on mine own head
The sleeping hate of the world ?
ORESTES,
No man that live'-.
Shall scathe thee by one word,
ELECTRA,
Our city gives
Quick blame ; arid little love have men for me.
ORBSTRS.
If aught thou hast tinsaid ? sister, be free
And speak. Between this man and us no bar
Cometh nor stint, but the utter rage of war*
[Sht gut and stands over the body* A tnomwfs
silence,
ElECTRA.
Ah me, what have I ? What first flood of hate
To loose upon thee ? What last curse to sate
My pain, or river of wild words to flow
Bank-high between ? , , , Nothing ? . . And yet
I know
ELECTRA 59
There hath not passed one sun, but through the long
Cold dawns, over and over, like a song,
I have said them words held back, 0, some day jtt
To flash into thy face, would but the fret
Of ancient fear fall loose and let me free.
And free I am, now ; and can pay to thce
At last the weary debt.
Oh, thou didst kill
My soul within. Who wrought thce any ill,
That thou shouldst make me fatherless f Aye, me
And this my brother, loveless, solitary f
Twas thou, didst bend my mother to her shame :
Thy weak hand murdered him who led to fame
The hosts of Hellas thou, that never crossed
O'erscasto Troy ! . . , God help thee, wast thou lost
In blindness, long ago, dreaming, some- wise,
She would be true with thee, whose sin and lies
Thyself had tasted in my father's place ?
And then, that thou wert happy, when thy days
Were all one pain I Thou knewest ceaselessly
Her kiss a thing unclean, and she knew thee
A lord so little true, so dearly won 1
So lost ye both, being in falseness one,
What fortune else had granted ; she thy curse,
Who marred thee as she loved thee, and thou hers * . *
And on thy ways ihou heardst men whispering,
" I/o, the Queen's husband yonder "-not a the King,"
And then the lie of lies that dimmed thy brow.
Vaunting that by thy gold, thy chattels, Thou
Wert Something ; which themselves are nothingness,
Shadows, to clasp a moment ere they cease.
The thing thou art, and not the things thou hast,
Abidcth, yea, and bindeth to the last
60 EURIPIDES
Thy burden on thee : while nil else, ill-won
And sin-companioned, like a flower o'erblown,
Flics on the wind away.
Or didst thou find
In women . . . Women? . . . Nay, peace, peace:!
The blind
Could read thee. Cruel wast thou in thine hour,
Lord of a great king's house, and like a tower
Firm in thy beauty.
[Starting back with a losk of bathing,
Ah, that girl-like face !
God grant, not that, not that, but some plain grace
Of manhood to the man who brings me love :
A father of straight children, that shall move
Swift on the wings of War.
So, get thee gone !
Naught knowing how the great years, rolling on,
Have laid thee bare, and thy long debt full paid,
vaunt not, if one step be proudly made
In evil, that all Justice is o'ercast :
Vaunt not, ye men of sin, ere at the last
The thin-drawn marge before you glimmereth
Close, and the goal that wheels "twixt life and death,
LEADER,
Justice is mighty. Passing dark hath bn:n
His sin : and dark the payment of his sin.
EiECTRA (with a weary /i, turning from thi k</)>)
Ah me ! Go some of you, bear him from sight,
That when my mother come, her eyes may iij^ht
On nothing, nothing, till she know the sword . . .
[Tht body is borne into tlif hut, Py LADES goes with it,
KLECTRA 61
O&BSTis (hiking ahng the roaty,
Stay* 'tis a new thing ! We have still a word
To speak , . ,
ELECTRA.
What f Not a rescue from the town
l"hou scCst ?
ORESTES.
*Tis my mother comes : my own
Mother, that bare me* \Ht takss off his cwwn t
EilCTRA (springing) t It wer# 9 U life agaln^ and
htre sht cttn $M tht road),
Straight into the snare !
Ayty there she Comeths-Welcome in thy rare
Chariot 1 All welcome in thy brave array !
ORKSTKS*
What would we with our mother ? Didst thou say
Ol her f
EiECTRA (turning on him).
WhatJ Is it pity? Dost thou fear
To see thy mothcv's shape ?
ORRSTES,
'Twas she that tare
My body into life. She pvc me nick.
How cn 1 strike her ?
63 EURIPIDES
ELBCTM.
Strike her as she struck
Our father I
ORESTIS (to himself, brwding).
Phoebus^ God, was all thy mind
Turned unto darkness I
ELECTRA*
If % God be blind,
Shalt thou have light I
ORESTES (as btfirg).
ThoUj thou 3 didst bid me kill
My mother : which is sin*
ELKCTRA.
How brings it ill
To thec, to raise our father from the dust ?
ORESTES.
1 was a clean man once. Shall I be thrust
From men's sight, blotted with her blood ?
ELECTRA.
Thy blot
Is black as death if h i m thou succour not !
ORBSTKS.
Who shall do judgment OR me, when she dies}
ELECTRA 63
ElBCTRA,
Who shall do judgment, if thy father lies
Forgotten ?
ORESTES (turning suddenly to ELECTRA),
Stay ! How if some fiend of Hell,
Hid in God's likeness, spake that oracle?
ELECTRA.
In God's own house ? I trow not.
ORESTES,
And I trow
It was an evil charge ! \Ht mows away from her,
ELECTRA (almist despairing
To fail me now I
To fail me now ! A coward I brother, no I
ORESTES,
What shall it be, then ? The same stealthy blow . * *
ELBCT&A.
That slew our father! Courage I thou hast slain
Aegisthus.
ORESTES.
Aye, So be it, I have ta'en
A path of many terrors : and shall do
Deeds horrible. Tis God will have it so. . , ,
Is this the joy of battle, or wild woe f
\He gKi inti the
64 EURIPIDES
LEADS*,
Queen o'er Argos throned high*
Woman, sister of the twain,
God's Horsemen, stars without a stain
Whose home is in the deathless sky,
Whose glory in the sea's wild pain,
Toiling to succour men that die :
Long years above us hast thou been,
God-like for gold and marvelled power :
Ah, well may mortal eyes this hour
Observe thy state : All hail, Queen !
Enter frm the right CLYTIMNESTRA on a chariot,
accompanied by richly dressed Handmaidens,
CiYTIMNBTRA,
Down from the wain, ye dames of Troy, and hold
Mine arm as I dismount. . , .
[Answering EiiCTRA's thought.
The spoils and gold
Of Ilion I have sent out of my hall
To many shrines. These bondwomen are all
I keep in mine own house , . . Deerast thou the
cost
Too rich to pay me for the child I lost-
Fair though they be ?
ELKCTRA.
Nay, Mother, here ant I
Bond likewise, yea, and homeless, to hold high
Thy royal arm 1
ELECTRA 65
CiYTEMNESTR/L,
Child, the war-slaves are here 5
Thou needst not toil.
ELECTRA.
What was it but the spear
Of war, drove me forth too ? Mint enemies
Have sacked my father's house, and, even as thc-.e,
Captives and fatherless, made me their pay.
Cl.YTJBMNKSTRA.
It was thy father cast his child away,
A child he might have loved I . . * Shall I speak
outi
(Controlling htnelf) Nay ; when a woman once is
caught about
With evil fame, there riseth in her tongue
A bitter spirit wrong, I know ! Yet, wrong
Or right, I charge ye look on the deeds done ;
And if ye needs must hate, when all is known,
Hate on 1 What profits loathing ere yc know J
My father gave me to be his. 'Tis so,
But was it his to kill me, or to kill
The babes I bore ? Yet, lo, he tricked my will
With fables of Achilles' love : he bore
To Aulis and the dark ship-clutching shore,
He held above the altar*flame, and smote,
Cool as one reaping, through the strained throat,
My white Iphigenia. . . . Had it been
To save some falling city, leaguered in
66 EURIPIDES
With focmen ; to prop up our castle towers,
And rescue other children that were ours^
Giving one life for many, by God's laws
I had forgiven all I Not so, Because
Helen was wanton, and her master knew
No curb for her : for that, for that, he slew
My daughter ! Even then, with all my wrong,
No wild beast yet was in me ft Nay, for long,
I never would have killed him. But he came,
At last, bringing that damsel, with the flame
Of God about her, mad and knowing all :
And set her in my room 5 and in one wall
Would hold two queens 1 wild are woman's ey
And hot her heart I say not otherwise.
But, being thus wild, if then her master stray
To love far off, and cast his own sway,
Shall not her will break prison too, and wend
Somewhere to win some other for a friend ?
And then on us the world's curse waxes strong
In righteousness ! The lords of all the wrong
Must hear no curse 1 I slew him. I trod then
The only road : which led me to the men
He hated, Of the friends of Argos whom
Durst I have sought, to aid me to the doom
I craved ? Speak if thou wouldst, and fear not me,
If yet thou dcemst him slain unrighteously*
LBADER.
Thy words be just, yet shame their justice brings ;
A woman true of heart should bear all things
From him she loves. And she who feels it not^
I cannot rason of her f nor ipetk aught,
'Remember, mother, thy last word of grace,
Bidding me speak, and fc.tr not, to thy face*
Cl.TTFMNKSTRA.
So said I truly, child, and so jay still,
EI.KCT\A.
Wtjt softly htMr, and after work me ill?
Not v>, not x. 1 will but pleasure thec.
I answer then. And, mother, this shall be
My prayer of opening, where hangs the whole :
Would God that He had made thcc clean of soul!
Helen and thou 0, face and form were fair,
Meet for men\ praise ; but sifters twain ye were,
Both things of naught, a stain on Castor's star,
And Helen slew her honour, borne afar
In wilful ravishment ; but them didst slay
The highest man of the world. And now wilt say
'Twas wrought in justice for thy child laid low
At Auiis ? ... Ah, who knows thee as I know ?
Thou, thou, who long ere aught of ill was clone
Thy child, when Agamemnon scarce
Site at the looking-glass, and tress by tress
Didst comb the twinid gold in loneliness,
When my wife, her lord being far away,
Toils to be <kir f blot her out that day
68 EURIPIDES
As false within ! What would she with a cheek
So bright in strange men's eyes, unless she seek
Some treason I None but I, thy child, could so
Watch thee in Hellas : none but I could know
Thy face of gladness when our enemies
Were strong, and the swift cloud upon thine eyes
If Troy seemed falling, all thy soul keen-set
Praying that he might come no more I . . And yet
It was so easy to be true v A king
Was thine, not feebler, not in anything
Below Aegisthus ; one whom Hellas chose
For chief beyond all kings, Aye, and God knows,
How sweet a name in Greece, after the sin
Thy sister wrought, lay in thy ways to win.
Ill deeds make fair ones shine, and turn thereto
Men's eyes. Enough : but say he wronged thee ; slew
By craft thy child : what wrong had I done, what
The babe Orestes ? Why didst render not
Back unto us, the children of the dead,
Our father's portion ? Must thou heap thy bed
With gold of murdered men, to buy to thee
Thy strange man's arms ? Justice ! Why is not he
Who cast Orestes out, cast out again ?
Not slain for me whom doubly he hath slain,
In living death, more bitter than of old
My sister's ? Nay, when all the tale is told
Of blood for blood, what murder shall we make,
I and Orestes, for our father's sake ?
CLYTKMNISTRA.
Aye, child j I know thy heart, from long ago.
Thou hast alway loved him best. Tis oft-time so :
One is her father's daughter, and one hot
ELECTRA 69
To bear her mother's part, I blame thec not . , ,
Yet think not I am happy, child 5 nor flown
With pride now, in the deeds my hand hath done . . .
[Swing EltCTRA unsympathetic, she checks herself.
But thou art all untended, comfortless
Of body and wild of raiment ; and thy stre&s
Of travail scarce yet ended 1 ... Woe is me 1
Tis all as I have willed it. Bitterly
1 wrought against him, to the last blind dtep
Of bitterness. . . . Woe's me 1
ELICTRA.
Fair days to weep,
When help is not ! Or stay : though he lie cold
Long since, there lives another of thy fold
Far off; there might be pity for thy son F
CLYTEMNHSTRA.
I dare not I . . Yes, I fear him. Tis mine own
Life, and not his, comes first. And rumour saith
His heart yet burneth for his father's death,
ELKCTRA.
Why dost thou keep thine husband ever hot
Against me ?
CLYTEMNBSTRA.
'Tis his mood. And thou art not
So gentle, child !
ElICTRA.
My spirit is too sore I
Howbcit, from this day I will no more
Hate; him.
70
CIYTSMNESTRA (with a /ash ifhgpt),
daughter ! Then, indeed, shall he,
I promise, never more be harsh to thee 1
EtECTRA.
He licth in my house^ as 'twere his own,
Tis that hath made him proud,
CLYTEMNKSTRA.
Nay, an thoii flown
To strife again so quick, child ?
EIECTRA,
Wdlj I say
No more ; long have I feared him, and alway
Shall fear him, even as now I
CLYTEMNISTIUL
Nay, daughler, peace I
It bringeth little profit ? speech like this . . ,
Why didst thou call me hither i
EIECTRA.
It reached thee,
My word that si man-child is born to me ?
Do thou make offering for me for the rite
I know not as is meet on the tenth night,
I cannot 5 I have borne BO child rill now,
CLYTIMNISTRJL
Who tended thce ? Tis she should make the vow,
jELECTRA 71
ELECTRA,
None tended me. Alone I bare my child.
CLYTIMNESTRA
What, is thy cot so friendless ? And this wild
So far from aid ?
A beggar's house ?
ELECTRA.
Who seeks for friendship sake
ClYTKMNfiSTRA.
I will go ln f and make
Due worship for thy child, the Peace-bringer.
To all thy need I would be minister.
Then to my lord, where by the meadow side
He prays the woodland nymphs.
Ye handmaids, guide
My chariot to the stall, and when ye guess
The rite draws near its end, in readiness
Be here again. Then to my lord I * . I owe
My lord this gladness, too.
[The Attendants depart ; CLYTBMNESTRA, left
aim*) proceeds to enter thi house*
ELICTRA.
Welcome below
My narrow roof ! But have a care withal,
A grime of smoke lies deep upon the wall,
Soil not thy robe 1 . .
72 EURIPIDES
Not far now shall it be,
The sacrifice God asks of me and thee.
The bread of Death is broken, and the knife
Lifted again that drank the Wild Bull's life :
And on his breast ... Ha, Mother, hast slept well
Aforetime ? Thou shalt lie with him in Hell.
That grace I give to cheer thce on thy road ;
Give thou to me peace from my father's blood 1
[She follows her mother into iht hmt,
CHORUS,
Lo, the returns of wrong.
The wind as a changed thing
Whispereth overhead
Of one that of old lay dead
In the water lapping long :
My King, my King I
A cry in the rafters then
Rang, and the marble dome :
" Mercy of God, not thou,
"Woman I To slay me now,
a After the harvests ten
"Now, at the last, come home ! n
Fate shall turn as the tide,
Turn, with a doom of tears
For the flying heart too fond ;
A doom for the broken bond,
She hailed him there in his pride,
Home from the perilous ycn
ELECTRA 73
In the heart of his walled lands,
In the Giants* doud-capt ring j
Herself, none other, laid
The hone to the axe's blade ;
She lifted it in her hands,
The woman, and slew her king.
Woe upon spouse and spouse,
Whatso of evil sway
Held her in that distress I
Even as a lioness
Breaketh the woodland boughs
Starving, she wrought her way.
VOICE OF CimMNESTRA.
Children, Children ; in the name of God,
Slay not your mother !
A WOMAN.
Did yc hear a cry
Under the rafters ?
ANOTHER.
I weep too, yea, I ;
Down on the mother's heart the child hath trod 1
[A dtath-crj from within*
ANOTHER.
God bringeth Justice in his own slow tide,
Aye ? cruel is thy doom ; but thy deeds done
Evil, thoti piteous woman, and on one
Whose sleep was by thy side !
dsar bunts tpm, and ORESTES and
Eucnui some firth in diwrd*r Attend*
ants bring tut the kdw ^CLY
md AEGISTRUS.
74 EURIPIDES
LEADER.
Lo, yonder, In their mother's new-spilt gore
Red-garmented and ghastly, from the door
They reel * . . horrible ! Was it agony
Like this, she boded in her last wild cry f
There lives no seed of man calamitous,
Not hath lived, like this seed of Tantalus.
ORESTES.
O Dark of the Earth, O God,
Thou to whom all is plain ;
Look on my sin, my blood,
This horror of dead things twain :
Gathered as one they lie
Slain 5 and the skyer was I f
I, to pay for my pain I
ELECTRA.
Let tear rain upon tear,
Brother : but mine is the blame*
A fire stood over her,
And out of the ire I came,
I, in my misery. . . .
And I was the child at her knee,
4 Mother' I named her name,
CHORUS.
Alas for Fate, for the Fttc of ther,
O Mother, Mother of Misery :
And Misery, lo, hath turned again,
ELECT1A 75
To sky thee 5 Misery and more,
Even In the fruit thy body bore.
Yet hast them Justice^ Justice plain,
For a sire's blood spilt of yort !
ORESTES,
Apollo^ alms for the hymn
Thou sangcst ? as hope in mine far I
The Soncs; was of Justice dim 3
But the Deed is anguish clear j
And the Gift, long nights of fcar,
Of blood and of wandering,
Where comcth no Greek thing,
Nor sight, nor sound on the air.
Yea ? and beyond, beyond f
Roaming what rest is there ?
Who shall break bread with me f
Who, that is clean^ shall sec
And hate not the blood -red hand,
His mother's murderer }
EI.KCTRA.
And I ? What clime shall hold
My evil, or roof it above ?
I cried for dancing of old,
I cried in my heart for love :
What dancing waitcti* me now ?
What love that shall kiss my brow
Nor blench at the brand thereof?
CHORUS.
Buck, btokj In the wind and rain
Thy driven spirit wheeleth again.
76 EURIPIDES
Now is thine heart made clean within
That was dark of old and murder-fraught.
But, lo, thy brother ; what hast them wrought . ,
Yea, though I love thee . , . what woe, what sin,
On him, who willed it not !
OMSTES.
Saw ? $t thou her raiment there,
Sister, there in the blood ?
She drew it back as she stood,
She opened her bosom bare,
She bent her knees to the earth,
The knees that bent in my birth . . .
And I ... Oh, her hair, her hair . . .
[Ht bnaki into inarticufatt
CHORUS,
Oh, thou didst walk in agony,
Hearing thy mother's cry, the cry
Of wordless wailing, well know 1,
EISCTRA.
She stretched her hand to my check,
And there brake from her lips a moan ;
* Mercy, my child, my own 1 *
Her hand clung to my check ;
Clung, and my arm was weak ;
And the sword fell and was gone.
CHORUS.
Unhappy woman, could thine eye
Look on the blood, and se her lie,
Thy mother, whew she turned to die ?
ELECTRA 77
ORESTES,
I lifted over mine eyes
My mantle : blinded I smote,
As one smitetb a sacrifice ;
And the sword found her throat,
ELECTRA.
I gave thee the sign and the word ;
I touched with mine hand thy sword.
LEADER.
Dire is the grief ye have wrought
ORESTES.
Sister, touch her again :
Oh, veil the body of her ;
Shed on her raiment fair,
And close that death-red stain.
Mother! And didst thou hear,
Bear in thy bitter pain,
To life, thy murderer f
[The two kneel over the body of CLYTBMNESTRA,
and cover her with raiment.
ELECTRA.
On her that I loved of yore,
Robe upon robe I cast ;
On her that I hated sore.
CHORUS.
O House that hath hated sore,
Behold thy peace at the last I
7 8 EURIPIDES
LEADER.
Ha, see : above the roof-tree high
There shineth . . , Is some spirit there
Of earth or heaven f That thin air
Was never trod by things that die 1
What bodes it now that forth they fare,
To men revealed visibly ?
[Then appears m the air a vision of CASTOR and
POLYDIUCBS. The mortals kneel r wll
their faM*
CASTOR,
Thou Agamemnon's Son, give ear ! Tis we.
Castor and Polydeuces, call to thee,
God's Horsemen and thy mother's brethren twain,
An Argive ship, spent with the toiling main,
We bore but now to peace, and, here withal
Being come, have seen thy mother's bloody fall,
Our sister's. Righteous is her doom this day,
But not thy deed. And Phoebus, Phoebus .
Nay;
He is my lord 5 therefore 1 hold my peace,
Yet though in light he dwell, no light was this
He showed to thee, but darkness ! Which do tbou
Endure, as man must, chafing not And now
Fare forth where Zeus and Fate have laid thy life.
The maid Electra thou shalt give for wife
To Pylades 5 then turn thy head and flee
From Argos" land. TTis never more for thee
To tread this earth where thy dead mother lies.
And, lo, in the tir her Spirits, bloodhound
lilEC'i RA 79
Most horrible yet GcciliLe, bard at bed
Following shall scourge thec as a burning wheel,
Spccd-maJdcned. Seek tliou straight Atnena's land,
And round her awful linage clasp thine hr.iid,
Praying : and she will fence them back, though hot
With flickering serpents, that they touch dice not,
Holding above thy brow her gorgon shield.
There is a hill in Athens, Ares* field,
Where first for that lirst death by Ares done
( )n Halirrhothius, Poseidon's son,
Who wroRged his daughter, the great Gods of
yore
Held judgment : and trac judgments evermore
Blow from that Hiil, trusted of man and God,
There shalt thou stand arraigned of this blood j
And of those judges half shall lay on thec
Death, and half pardon 5 so shalt thou go free
For Phoebus in that hour, who bade thee shed
Thy mother's blood, shall take on his own head
The stain thereof. And ever from that strife
The law shall hold, that when, for deatu or life
Of one pursued, men's voices equal stand,
Then Mercy conquereth. But for thee, the band
Of Spirits dread, down, down, in very wrath,
Shall sink beside that Hill, making their path
Through a dim chasm, the which shall aye be trod
By reverent feet, where men may speak with God*
But thou forgotten and far 03* shalt dwell,
By great Alphcds' waters, in i dell
Of Arcady, where that gray Wolf-God's wall
Stands holy. And thy dwelling men shall call
Orestes* Town. So much to thee be spoke.
But this dead man, Aegisthus, all the folk
8o EURIPIDES
Shall bear to burial in a high green grave
Of Argos. For thy mother, she shall have
Her tomb from Menelaus, who hath come
This day, at last, to Argos, bearing home
Helen. From Egypt comes she, and the hall
Of Proteus, and in Troy hath ne'er at all
Set foot. Twas but a wraith of Helen, sent
By Zeus, to make much wrath and ravishment,
So forth for home, bearing the virgin bride,
Let Pylades make speed, and lead beside
Thy once-named brother, and with golden store
Stablish his house far off on Phocis* shore.
Up, gird thee now to the steep Isthmian way,
Seeking Athena's blessed rock ; one day,
Thy doom of blood fulfilled and this long stress
Of penance past, thou shalt have happiness.
LEADER (looking up),
Is it for us, Seed of Zeus,
To speak and hear your words ugain ?
CASTOR. Speak : of this blood ye bear no stain.
ELICTRA. I also, sons of Tyndareus,
My kinsmen ; may my word be said f
CASTOR* Speak : on Apollo's head we lay
The bloody doings of this day.
LEADER, Yc Gods, yc brethren of the dead,
Why held ye not the deathly herd
Of KeVes back from off this home ?
CASTOR. There came but that which needs must
come
By ancient Fate and that dark word
ELECTRA
81
That rang from Phoebus in his mood.
ELECTRA. And what should Phoebus seek with me,
Or all God's oracles that be,
That I must bear my mother's blood ?
CASTOR. Thy hand was as thy brother's hand,
Thy doom shall be as his. One stain,
From dim forefathers on the twain
Lighting, hath sapped your hearts as sand,
ORESTES After so long, sister, to see
(wkokasneyer Arid hold thee, and then part, then part
t aised his -.^ .. , , . , , ,
head, nor % a ^ at chained thee to my heart
ipokm to the Forsaken, and forsaking thee 1
CASTOR, Husband and house are hers. She bears
No bitter judgment, save to go
Exiled from Argos,
ELECTRA. And what woe,
What tears are like an exile's tears ?
ORESTES. Exiled and more am I ; impure,
A murderer in a stranger's hand !
CASTOR, Fear not. There dwells in Pallas 1 land
All holiness. Till then endure !
[ORESTES and ELECTRA embrace.
ORESTES. Aye, closer ; clasp my body well,
And let thy sorrow loose, and shed,
As o'er the grave of one new dead,
Dead evermore, thy last farewell I
[A Mund of weeping.
2 EURIPIDES
CASTOR, Aks;,, what would ye ? For that cry
Ourselves and all the sons of haven
Have pity. Yea, our peace is riven
By the strange pain of these that die,
>WTF$, No more to see thee! ELKCTEA. Nor thy
breath
Be near my face 1 ORESTES. Ah, so it
ends,
EI.CCTRA. Farewell, dear Argos. All ye friends,
Farewell ! ORESTES, faithful unto dath,
Thou goest ? ELECTRA. Aye, I pass from
you.
Soft-eyed at last, ORESTES, Go, Pylades,
And God go with you ! Wed in peace
My tall Electra, and be true.
[EiEcnu and PYLADES depart u tht left.
CASTOR.
Their troth shall fill their hearts. But on :
Dread feet are near thee* hounds of prey,
Snake-handed, midnight-visaged, yea
And bitter pains their fruit I Begone !
[ORESTES departs to the right,
But hark, the far Sicilian sea
Calls, and a noise of men and ships
That labour sunken to the lips
In bitter billows 5 forth go we,
Through the long leagues of fiery blue,
With saving ; not to souls unshriven $
But whoso in his life hath striven
To IOYC things holy and be trw 5
ELECTKA 83
Through toil and storm we guard him j we
Save, and he shall not die ! Therefore,
O praise the lying; man no more,
Nor with oath-breakers sail the sea :
Farewell, yc walker? on the shore
Of death I A God hath counselled ye.
[CASTOR and POLYDEUCES disappear,
CHORUS.
Farewell, farewell 1 But he who can so
And stumbleth not on mischief anywhere,
Blessed on earth is he !
NOTKS TO THE KLECTRA
THE chief characters in the play belong to oiie
family, as is bhowa iiy the two t^JKiaii^ics:
TANTALUS
i
i
Tliyeates
. .. ..
At{;imeimn>n Menelaus Augisthus
I
Eltctra Orestes
(Also, a sister of Agamemnon, name variously given,
married Strophios, and was the mother of Pylades.)
Tyiidareus Leda ~ Zeus
i""" ' r i i
Clytcmi) r,tra Castor I'olydeuces Helen
P. I, i 10, Son of his father's foe.] Both foe and
brother. Atrcus and Thyestes became enemies after
the theft of the Golden Lamb. See pp. 47 ff.
P. 2j I 34, Must wed with me.] In Aeschylus
and Sophocles Electra is unmarried. This story of
her peasant husband is found only in Euripides, but is
not likelj to have been wantonly invented by him.
It was no doubt an existing legendan w Xcxyo*, to
use the phrase attributed to Euripides in ^ the Frogs (I
1052! He may have chosen to adopt it for several
reasons. First, to marry Electra to a peasant was a
likely step for Aegisthus to take, since any child born
to her afterwards would bear a stigma, calculated to
damage him fatally as a pretender to the throne.
Again, it seemed to explain the name " A-lektra " (as
if from teK-rpov, u bed ;" cf. SchoL Ow/, 71, Soph.
EL 962, Ant. 917) more pointedly than the commoner
v ersion. And it helps in the working out of Elcctra's
character (cf. pp. 17, 22, &c.). Also it gives an oppor-
tunity of introducing the fine character of the peasant.
He is an Aurovpya^ literally "self- worker," a man who
works his own land, far from the city, neither a slave
nor a slave-master ; w the men,'* as Euripides says in
the Orestes (920), "who alone save a nation/' (Cf.
AM., p. 115 foot, and below, p, 26, 11. 367-390.) As
Euripides became more and more alienated from the
town democracy he tended, like Tolstoy and others, to
idealise the workers of the soil
P. 6, 1. 62, Children to our enemy.] Cf. 626,
Soph, El. 389. They do not seem to be in existence
at the time of the play.
Pp. 5-6.] Electra's first two speeches are ad-
mirable as expositions of her character the morbid
nursing of hatred as a duty, the deliberate posing, the
impulsiveness, the quick response to kindness.
r. 7, L 82, Pylades,] Pylades is a persona rnuta
both here and in Sophocles' Euctra, a fixed traditional
figure, possessing no quality but devotion to Orestes.
In Aeschylus' Libation- Bearert he speaks only once,
with tremendous effect, at the crisis of the play, to
rebuke Orestes when his heart fails him. In the
Iphigenia in TWu, however, and still more in the
Orestes 9 he is % fully studied character.
P. 10, 1. 151, A swan crying alone.] Cf.
NOTES 87
p. 152, * 4 As yearns the milk-white swan when old
bwans die."
P. n, 1L 169 ft, The Watcher hath cried this
day,] Hera was an old Pelasgian goddess, whose
worship was kept in part a mystery from the invading
Achaeans or Dorians, There seems to have been a
priest born " of the ancient folk," /.*., a Pelasgian or
aboriginal Mycenaean, who, by some secret lore
probably some ancient and superseded method of cal-
culating the year knew when Hera's festival was
due, and walked round the country three days before-
hand to announce it, He drank a the milk of the
flock" and avoided wine, either from some religious
taboo, or because he represented the religion of the
milk-drinking mountain shepherds.
P. 13, 11. 220 ff.'j Observe Electra's cowardice
when surprised ; contrast her courage, p. 47, when
sending Orestes off, and again her quick drop to
despair when the news docs not come soon enough.
P. 1 6, 11 247 fE, I am a wife. ... better dead !]
Rather ungenerous, when compared with her words
on p. 6. (Cf, also her words on pp. 24 and 26.) But
she feels this herself, almost immediately. Orestes
naturally takes her to mean that her husband is one
of Aegisthus* friends. This would have ruined his
plot, (Cf. above, p. 8, 1. 98.)
P. 22, 1 312* Castor.] I know no other mention
of Electra's betrothal to Castor. He was her kins-
man : see below on 1. 990.
Pp. 22-23, 1L 300-337.]- In this wonderful out-
break, observe the mixture of all sorts of personal
resentments and jealousies with the devotion of the
lonely woman to her father and her brother, "So
men say," is an interesting touch ; perhaps conscience
tells her midway that she docs not quite believe what
she is saying. So is the self-conscious recognition of
her (< bitter burning brain " that interprets all things
in a sort of distortion. Observe, too, how instinctively
88 EURIPIDES
she turns to the peasant for sympathy in the strain of
her emotion. It is his entrance, perhaps, which pre-
vents Orestes from being swept away and revealing
himself. The peasant's courage towards two armed
men is striking, as well as his courtesy and his sanity,
He is the one character in the play not somehow tainted
with blood-madness.
P. 27, 11. 403, 409.] Why does Electra send
her husband to the Old Man ? Not, I think, really
for want of the food. It would have been easier to
borrow (p. 12, 1. 191) from the Chorus ; and, besides,
what the peasant says is no doubt true, that, if she
liked, she could find "many a pleasant thing" in
the house. I think she sends for the Old Man be-
cause he is the only person who would know Orestes
(p, 21, 1. 285). She is already, like the Leader
(p. 26, 1. 401), excited by hopes which she will not con-
fess. This reading makes the next scene clearer also.
Pp. 28-30, 11, 432-487, for the Ships of Troy.]
The two main Choric songs of this play are markedly
what Aristotle calls J/A/^oX^a, "things thrown in/"
They have no effect upon the action, and form little
more than musical "relief." Not that they arc
positively irrelevant. Agamemnon is in our minds
all through the play, and Agamemnon's glory is of
course enhanced by the mention of Troy and the
praises of his subordinate king, Achilles.
Thetis, the Nereid, or sea-maiden, was won to
wife by Peleus. (He wrestled with her on the sea-
shore, and never loosed hold, though she turned into
divers strange beings a lion, and fire, and water, and
sea-beasts.) She bore him Achilles, and then, unable
permanently to live with a mortal, went back beneath
the sea. When Achilles was about to sail to Troy,
she and her sister Nereids brought him divine armour,
and guided his ships across the Aegean. The designs
on Achilles* armour, as on Heracles* shield, form a
feirly common topic of poetry.
NOTES 89
The descriptions of the designs are mostly clear.
Perseus with the Gorgon's head, guided by Hermes ;
the Sun on a winged chariot, and stars about him ;
two Sphinxes, holding as victims the men who had
tailed to answer the riddles which they sang; and,
on the breastplate, the Chimaera attacking Bellero-
phon's winged horse, Pegasus. The name Pegasus
suggested to a Greek Tnyyr;, "fountain;" and the great
spring of Pire v n&, near Corinth, was made by Pegasus
stamping on the rock,
Pp- 30-47.] The Old Man, like other old family
servants in Euripides the extreme case is in the Ion
is absolutely and even morbidly devoted to his
masters. Delightful in this first scene, he becomes
a little horrible in the next, where they plot the
murders ; not only ferocious himself, but, what seems
worse, inclined to pet and enjoy the bloodthirstiness
of his u little mistress."
Pp. 30-33, 11. 510-545.] The Signs of Orestes.
This scene, I think, has been greatly misunderstood
by critics. In Aeschylus' Libution-Beartr^ which
deals with the same subject as the Electra^ the scene
is at Agamemnon's tomb. Orestes lays his tress there
in the prologue. Electra comes bringing libations,
sees the hair, compares it with her own, finds that
it is similar u wing for wing" (Q/IQTTTC/W the same
word as here), and guesses that it belongs to Orestes.
She then measures the footprints, and finds one that
is like her own, one not; evidently Orestes and a
fellow-traveller 1 Orestes enters and announces him-
self; she refuses to believe, until he shows her a
"woven thing," perhaps the robe which he is wear-
ing, which she recognises as the work of her own
hand.
The same signs, described in one case by the
same peculiar word, occur here. The Old Man
mentions one after the other, and Electra refutes
or rejects them. It has been thought therefore that
go EURIPIDES
this scene was meant as an attacka very weal:
and undignified attack on Euripides* great master,
No parallel for such an artistically ruinous proceeding
is quoted from any Greek tragedy.. And, apart
from the improbability a priori^ I do "not think it
even possible to read the scene in this sense, *To
my mind, Electra here rejects the signs not from
reason, but from a sort of nervous terror, She dares
not believe that Orestes has come ; because, if it prove
otherwise, the disappointment will be so terrible. As
to both signs, the lock of hair and the footprints,
her arguments may be good ; but observe that she
is afraid to make the comparison at all. And as to
the footprint, she says there cannot be one, when
the Old Man has just seen it ! And, anyhow, she
will not go to see it ! Similarly as to the robe,
she does her best to deny that she ever wove it,
though she and the Old Man both remember it
perfectly. She is fighting tremulously, with all
her Bagging strength, against the thing she longs
for. The whole point of the scene requires that
one ray of hope after another should be shown to
Electra, and that she should passionately, blindly,
reject them all That is what Euripides wanted
the signs for.
But why, it may be asked, did he adopt Aeschylus*
signs, and even his peculiar word ? Because, whether
invented by Aeschylus or not, these signs were a
canonical part of the story by the time Euripides
wrote. Every one who knew the story of Orestes 1
return at all, knew of the hair and the footprint
Aristophanes in the Clouds (534 ff.) uses them pro-
verbially, when he speaks of his comedy "recognising
its Brother's tress," It would have been frivolous
to invent new ones, As a matter of fact, it seems
probable that the signs are older than Aeschylus ;
neither they nor the word ofwirrepos particularly suit
Aeschylus' purpose, (Cf, Dr. VerraiJ's introduction to
rtOTJSS 91
the Libtitwn~Be(jmt.) They probably come from the
old lyric poet, Stesichorus,
P, 43, 1, 652, New-inothcred of a llan-Cliild.]
Her true Han-Child, the Avenger whom they had
sought to rob her of! This pitiless plan was
suggested apparently by the sacrifice to the Nymphs
(p. 40), "Weep my babe's low station" is of
course ironical. The babe would set a seal on
Electra's degradation to the peasant class, and so end
the blood-feud, as far as she was concerned. Clytem-
nestra, longing for peace, must rejoice In Electra's
degradation. Yet she has motherly feelings too, and
in fact hardly knows what to think or do til! she can
consult Aetfisthus (p. 71), Elect ra, it would seem,
actually calculates upon these feelings, while despising
them,
P. 45, 1, 669, If but some man will guide me,]
A suggestion of the irresolution or melancholia that
beset Oresfe* afterwards, alternating with furious
action. (Cf. Aeschylus' Libation-Btartri) Euripides*
Andromticht and Qrtstfs.)
P, 45, 1. 671, Zeus of my sires, &c.] In this
invocation, short and comparatively unznoving, one
can see perhaps an effect of Aeschylus' play. In the
Libation-Beartrs the invocation of Agamemnon com-
prises 200 lines of extraordinarily eloquent poetry.
P, 47 ffl, II, 699 flyThe Golden Lamb. The theft
of the Golden Lamb is treated as a story of the First
Sin, after which all the world was changed and
became the poor place that it now is. It was at
least the First Sin in the blood-feud of this drama,
The story is not explicitly told. Apparently the
magic lamb was brought by Pan from the gods, and
given to Atreus as a special grace and a sign that he
was the true king. His younger brother, Thyestes,
helped by Atreus 1 wife, stole it and claimed to be
king himself. So good was turned into evil, and love
into hatred, and the tors shaken in their courses,
92 EURIPIDES
[It is rather curious tliat the Lamb should have
such a special effect upon the heavens and the
weather. It is the same in Plato (tollt. 268 f.) s
and more definitely so in the treatise De Astrohgia^
attributed to Lucian, which says that the Golden
Lamb is the constellation Aries, " The Ram.*' Hugo
Winckler (Weltanschauung des alien Orients, pp. 30,
31) suggests that the story is a piece of Babylonian
astronomy misundeKtood. 'It seems that the vernal
equinox, which is now moving from the Ram into
the Fish, was in the ninth and eighth centuries B.C.
moving from the Bull into the Ram. Now the
Bull, Marduk, was the special god of Babylon, and
the time when he yielded his place to the Ram was
also, as a matter of fact, the time of the decline of
Babylon. The gradual advance of the Ram not
only upset the calendar, and made ail the seasons
wrong; but seemed, since it coincided with the
fall of the Great City, to upset the world in general !
Of course Euripides would know nothing oi this.
He was apparently attracted to the Golden Lamb
merely by the quaint beauty of the story.]
P. 50, 1. 746, Thy brethren even now.] Castor
and Polydeuces, who were received into the stars
after their death. See below, on 1. 990.
P, 51, 1. 757, That answer bids me die.] Why ?
Because Orestes, if he won at all, would win by a
surprise attack, and would send news instantly. A
prolonged conflict, without a message, would mean
that Orestes and Pylades were being overpowered.
Of course she is wildly impatient,
P. 51, L 765, Who art thou ? I mistrust thee.]
Just as she mistrusted the Old Man's signs. See
above, p. 89.
P. 52 ft, 11 774 ff.] Messenger's Speech. This
speech, though swift and vivid, is less moving and
also less sympathetic than most of the Messengers*
Speeches. Less moving, because the skying of
NOTES 93
Acgisthus has little moral interest ; it is merely a
daring; and danjjr.rous exploit. Less sympathetic!
because even here, in the first and comparatively
blauielcMS step of th blood - ven ranee, Euripides
makes us feel the treacherous side of it. A &o\txf>wta,
it "slayitif: by guile/' even at its best, remains rather
an u[ r ,Iy thin*-
P." 53, i. 793, Then quickly spake Orestes.]
If Orestes had washed with Aegisthus, he would
have become his xeno^ or guest, 31$ much as if he had
eaten his bread and salt. In that case the slaving
would have been definitely a crime, a dishonourable
act Also, Aegistlms would have had the right to
ask his name.- The unsuspiciousness of Aegi'itinK is
partly natural ; it was not thus, alone ami unarmed,
that he expected Orestes to stand before him. Partly
it seems like a heaven-sent blindnc'*. Even the omens
'lo not warn him, though no doubt in a moment more
they would have done so.
P. 56, 1. 878, With guile he hath slain.] So
the MSS. The Chorus have already a faint feeling,
quickly suppressed, that there may be another side
to Orestes' action* Most editors alter the text to
mean " I fa hath slain these guileful ones,"
P. 58, L 900, It shames me, yet God knows I
hunger sore.] To treat the dead with respect was
one of the special marks of a Gieek as opposed to a
barbarian. It is possible that the body of Aegisthus
might legitimately have been refused burial, or even
nailed on a cross as Orates in a moment of excitement
suggests. But to insult him lying dead would be a
shock to all Greek feeling* ("Unholy it the voice
of loud thanksgiving over slaughtered men," Qtlysuy
xxii. 412.) Any excess of this kind, any violence
towards the helpless, was apt to rouse "The sleeping
wrath of the world.*' There was a Greek proverb,
u Even an injured dog has his Erinys" u,, his
unseen guardian or avenger. It is interesting though
94 EURIPIDES
not surprising, to hear that men had little love for
Ekctra, The wonderful speech that follows, though
to a conventional Greek perhaps the most outrageous
thing of which she is guilty, shows best the inherent
nobility of her character before years of misery had
"killed her sou! with in,"
P. 59, 11. 928 f., Being in falseness one, &c.] The
Greek here is very obscure and almost certainly
corrupt
P. 61, I 964, Tis my mother comes.] The
reaction has already begun in Orestes. In the
excitement and danger of killing his enemy he has
shown coolness and courage, but now a work lies
before him vastly more horrible, a little more treacher-
ous, and with no element of daring to redeem it.
Electra, on the other hand, has done nothing- yet ; she
has merely tried, not very successfully, to revile the
dead body, and her hate is unsatisfied. Besides, one
sees all through the pky that Acgisthus was a kind of
odious stranger to her ; it was the woman, her mother,
who came close to her and whom she really hated,
P. 63, 1, 979, Was it some fiend of Hell?] The
likeness to Hamkt is obvious, ("The spirit that I
have seen May be the Devil/' End of Act IL)
P. 63, 1. 983, How shall it be then, the same
stealthy blow r . , .] He means, I think, " the same
as that with which 1 have already murdered an
unsuspecting man to-day,'* but Electra for her own
purposes misinterprets him*
P. 64, 1. 990, God's horsemen, stars without a
stain.] Cf. above, 11. 312, 746. Cas>tor and Poly-
deuces were sons of Zeus and Leda^ brothers of
Helen, and half-brothers of Clytemnestra, whose
father was the mortal Tyndareus. They lived as
knights without reproach, and afterwards became
stars and demigods. The story is told that originally
Castor was mortal and Polydeuces immortal; but
when Castor was fatally wounded Polydeuces prayed
NOTES 95
that he might be allowed to give him half hrs im-
mortality. The prayer was granted; and the two
live as immortals, yet, in some mysterious way,
knowing the taste of death. Unlike the common
sinners and punishers of the rest of the play, these
Heroes find their " glory " in saving men from peril
and suffering, especially at sea, where they appear as
the globes of light, called St. Elmo's fire, upon masts
and yards.
Pp. 64-7 1, II. 998 ff.] Clytemnestra. "And
what sort of woman is this doomed and cvir
Queen ? We know the majestic murderess of
Aeschylus, so strong as to be actually beautiful, so
fearless and unrepentant that one almost feels her to
be right. One can imagine also another figure that
would be theatrically effective a * sympathetic '
sinner, beautiful and penitent, eager to redeem her
sin by self-sacrifice. But Euripides gives us neither.
Perhaps he believed in neither. It is a piteous and
most real character that we have here, in this sad
middle-aged woman, whose first words are an apology ;
controlling quickly her old fires, anxious to be as little
hated as possible. She would even atone, one feels,
if there were any safe way of atonement ; but the
consequences of her old actions are holding her, and
she is bound to persist. ... In her long speech it is
scarcely to Electra that she is chiefly speaking ; it is
to the Chorus, perhaps to her own bondmaids; to
any or all of the people whose shrinking so frets her."
(Independent Review ', /.<:)
P. 65, 1 ion, Cast his child away."]- The Greek
fleet assembled for Troy was held by contrary winds
at Aulis, in the Straits of Euboea, and the whole
expedition was in danger of breaking up. The
prophets demanded a human sacrifice, and Agamem-
non gave his own daughter, Iphigenla. He induced
Clytemnestra to send her to him, by the pretext that
Achilles had asked for her in marriage.
$6 EURIPIDES
P. 66, 1. 1046, Which led me to the men he
hated.] It made Clytemnestra's crime worse, that
her accomplice was the blood-foe.
Pp. 65-68. As elsewhere in Euripides, these two
speeches leave the matter undecided. He does not
attempt to argue the case out He gives us a flash
of light, as it were, upon Clytemnestra's mind and
then upon Electra's. Each believes what she is
saying, and neither understands the whole truth.
It is clear that Clytemnestra, being left for ten years
utterly alone, and having perhaps something of Helen's
temperament about her, naturally fell in love with the.
Lord of a neighbouring castle ; and having once
committed herself, had no way of saving her life
except by killing her husband, and afterwards either
killing or keeping strict watch upon Orestes and
Electra. Aegisthus, of course, was deliberately
plotting to carry out his blood-feud and to win a
great kingdom.
P. 72, L 1156, For the flying heart too fond.]
The text is doubtful, but this seems to be the literal
translation, and the reference to Clytemnestra is
intelligible enough.
P. 73, 1. 1157, The giants' cloud-capped ring.]
The great walls of Mycenae, built by the Cyclopes ;
cf, Trojan Women^ p. 04, "Where the towers of the
giants shine O'er Argos cloudily."
P. 75, 1. 1201, Back, back in the wind and rain.]
The only explicit moral judgment of the Chorus ;
cf. note on L 878.
P. 77, L 1225, I touched with my hand thy
sword.]- /.*., Electra dropped her own sword in
horror, then in a revulsion of feeling kid her hand
upon Orestes* sword out of generosity, that he
might not bear his guilt alone.
P. 78, 1. 1241, An Argive ship.jThis may have
been the ship of Menclaus, which wai brought to
Argos by Castor and Poly deuces* see L 1278^ Htltna
NOTES 97
1663. The ships labouring in the "Sicilian sea**
(p. 82, 1. 1347) must have suggested to the audiena
the ships of the great expedition against Sicily, then
drawing near to its destruction. The Athenian fleet
was destroyed early in September 413 B.C.: this play
was probably produced in the spring of the same year,
at which time the last reinforcements were being
sent out,
P, 78, 1 1249.]- Marriage ^ Py^ es an ^ Electra,
A good example of the essentially historic nature
of Greek tragedy. No one would have invented t
marriage between Electra and Pykdes for the purposes
of this play, It is even a little disturbing. But it is
here, because it was a xcd fact in the tradition (cf,
Ifihigenia in Taunt, 1. 915 ), and could not be
ignored. Doubtless there were people living who
claimed descent from Pylades and Electra,
P. 79, 1. 1253, Scourge thce as a burning wheel.]
At certain feasts a big wheel soaked in some inflam-
mable resin or tar was set fire to and rolled down
& mountain,
P. 79, L 1258, There is % hill in Athens.] The
great fame of the Areopagus as a tribunal for man-
slaying (see Aeschylus' Eumenides) cannot have been
due merely to its incorruptibility. Hardly any
Athenian tribunal was corruptible. But the Areopagus
in very ancient times seems to have superseded the
early systems of "blood-feud" or "blood-debt" by a
humane and rational system of law, taking account
of intention, provocation, and the varying degrees of
guilt. The Erinyes, being the old Pelasgian avengers
of blood, now superseded, have their dwelling in a
cavern underneath the Areopagus,
P. 80, 11. 1276 fF,] The graves of Aegisthus and
Clytemnestra actually existed in Argos (Paus. ii,
1 6, 7). They form, so to speak, the concrete material
fact round which the legend of this play circles (cf*
Ridgeway in Hilknu hurnal^ xxiv, p. xxxix.}.
9 8 EURIPIDES
P, 80, 1. 1280.] Helen. The story here adum-
brated is taken from Stesichorus, and forms the plot of
Euripides* play Helena (cf. Herodotus, ii. 113 ffi).
P. 80, 1 1295, I also, sons of Tyndarcus.]
Observe that Electra claims the gods as cousins (cf.
p. 22, 1. 313), addressing them by the name of their
mortal father. The Chorus has called them "sons
of Zeus." In the same spirit she faces the gods,
complains, and even argues, while Orestes never raises
his eyes to them.
P. 80, 1. 1300.] KSres. The death-spirits that
flutter over our heads, as Homer says, '* innumerable,
whom no man can fly nor hide from/ 1
P. 82, L 1329, Yea, our peace is riven by the
strange pain of these that die.] Cf. the attitude of
Artemis at the end of the Hippolytus. Sometimes
Euripides introduces gods whose peace is not riven,
but then they are always hateful, (Cf. Aphrodite in
the HippolytuS) Dionysus in the Bacfhae^ Athena in
the Trojan ff^omen.)
P. 82, L 1336, faithful unto death.] This is
the last word we hear of Electra, and it is interest-
ing. With all her unlovely qualities it remains true
that she was faithfulfaithful to the dead and the
absent, and to what she looked upon as a fearful duty,
Additional Note on the presence of the Argive
women during the plot against the King and Queen,
(Cf. especially p. 19, L 272, These women hear us.)
It would seem to us almost mad to speak so freely
before the women, But one must observe: i.
Stasis, or civil enmity, ran very high irt' 1 Greece, and
these women were of the party that hated Aegisthus.
2, There runs all through Euripides a very strong
conception of the cohesiveness of women, their
secretiveness, and their faithfulness to one another,
Medea, Iphigenia, and Creusa, for instance, trust
NOTES 99
their women friends with secrets involving life and
death, and the secrets are kept. On the other hand,
when SL man Xuthtis in the Ion tells the Chorus
women a secret, they promptly and with great
courage betray him. Aristophanes leaves the same
impression ; and so do many incidents in Greek
history. Cf. the murders plotted by the Athenian
women (Hdt. v. 87), and both by and against the
Lernnian women (Hdt. vi. 138). The subject is a
large one, but I would observe : I. Athenian women
were kept as a rule very much together, and apart
from men, 2. At the time of the great invasions the
women of a community must often have been of dif-
ferent race from the men ; and this may have started
a tradition of behaviour, 3. Members of a subject
(or disaffected) nation have generally this cohesive-
ness : in Ireland, Poland, and parts of Turkey the
details of a political crime will, it is said, be known
to a whole country side, but not a whisper come to
the authorities.
Of course the mere mechanical fact that the
Chorus had to be present on the stage counts for
something. It saved the dramatist trouble to make
his heroine confide in the Chorus. But I do not
think Euripides would have used this situation so
often unless it had seemed to him both true to life
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