Aeschylus
The Libation Bearers
[The Choephoroi]
458 BC
[This translation, which has been prepared by Ian Johnston of Malaspina University-College, Nanaimo, BC, Canada, is in the public domain and may be used by anyone, in whole or in part, for any purpose, without permission and without charge, provided the source is acknowledged. Last revised May 2003]
Oresteia Page (links to the Agamemnon and the Eumenides)
[For a short introductory lecture on the Agamemnon and the Oresteia click here. For a summary of the legend of the House of Atreus, the immediate mythological background to the play, click here ]
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[Note that in the following text the numbers in square brackets refer to the Greek text]
Dramatis Personae
ORESTES:
son of Agamemnon and Clytaemnestra, brother of Electra
CHORUS: slave women (captured at Troy) serving the royal palace at Argos
ELECTRA: daughter of Agamemnon and Clytaemnestra, sister of Orestes
SERVANT: house slave serving the royal palace
CLYTAEMNESTRA: widow of Agamemnon, lover of Aegisthus, mother of Orestes
and Electra
PYLADES: friend of Orestes
CILISSA: Orestes' old nurse, a servant in the palace.
AEGISTHUS: son of Thyestes (brother of Atreus, father of Agamemnon), lover of Clytaemnestra
ATTENDANTS on Orestes and
Pylades and Aegisthus
Scene: Argos, the tomb of Agamemnon some years after his murder by Clytaemnestra and Aegisthus. Behind the tomb stands the royal palace of the sons of Atreus.
Enter Orestes and Pylades. They have just arrived in Argos.
ORESTES
Hermes, messenger to the dead, guardian
of your father's powers, help rescue me—
work with me, I beg you, now I've come back,
returned to this land from exile. On this grave,
on
this heaped-up earth, I call my father,
imploring him to listen, to hear me . . .
[Orestes cuts two locks of his hair and sets them one by one on the tomb]
Here's a lock of hair, offering to Inachus,
the
stream where I was raised. Here's another,
a token of my grief. I was not there,
my
father, to mourn your death. I couldn't stretch
10
my
hand out to you, when they carried off
your
corpse for burial.
[Enter Electra and the Chorus, dressed in black. They do not see Orestes and Pylades]
What's this I see?
[10]
What's
this crowd of women coming here,
all wearing black in public? What does it mean?
What new
turn of fate? Has some fresh sorrow
struck
the house? Or am I right to think
they
bring libations here to honour you,
my
father, to appease the dead below?
That
must be it. I see my sister there,
Electra.
That's her approaching with them.
20
She's grieving—in great pain—that's obvious.
O
Zeus, let me avenge my father's death.
Support me as
my ally in this fight.
Pylades,
let's stand over there and hide,
[20]
so
I can find out what's happening,
what brings these suppliant women here.
[Orestes and Pylades conceal themselves from the sight of Electra and the Chorus]
CHORUS
I've been sent here from the palace,
to bring libations for the dead,
to clap out the hands' sharp beat.
Blood flows down my cheeks
30
from cuts my nails have scratched.
As life
drags on and on, my heart
feeds
itself on my laments,
to the
sound of garments torn apart,
the sound
of sorrow in our clothes,
as we rip the woven linen
covering
our breasts.
No laughter
any more.
[30]
Our fortune
beats us down.
With hair-raising shrieks, Fear,
40
dream-prophet in this house,
breathed a furious cry of terror,
at night, while people were asleep.
Deep within the inner house
the heavy scream re-echoed, all the way
to rooms where women slept.
Those who read our dreams,
who speak by heaven's will,
declared, "The dead beneath the
ground
[40]
are
discontent—their anger grows
50
against
the ones who killed them."
O Earth, my mother Earth,
to
protect herself from harm
that
godless woman sends me here
with
gifts, with loveless gifts.
But
I'm too scared to speak her words,
the
prayer she wishes me to say.
What
can atone for blood
once
fallen on the ground?
Alas
for the grief-filled hearth,
60
Alas
for the buried home!
[50]
Sunless
darkness grips the house
which
all men hate, for now
their master's murdered.
It's gone—that
ancient splendour
no
man could resist or fight,
no
man could overcome.
Its
glory rang in every ear,
echoed
in every heart.
Now
it's been thrown away.
70
But
each man feels the fear.
For
now, in all men's eyes,
success
is worshipped,
[60]
more
so than god himself.
But
Justice is vigilant—
she tips the scales.
With some she's quick,
striking by light of day,
for
others sorrows wait,
delaying
until their lives
80
are
half way sunk in twilight,
while
others are embraced
by night that never ends.
The nurturing earth drinks blood,
she drinks her fill. That gore,
which cries out for revenge,
will not dissolve or seep away.
The guilty live in utter desperation—
madness preys upon their minds
infecting
them
completely. 90
[70]
The
man who violates a virgin's bed
cannot be redeemed. All rivers flow
into one stream to cleanse his hand
of black blood which defiles him.
Such waters flow in vain.
As for me—gods set a fatal noose
around my
city, so I was led
out of my
father's house a slave.
Now I do
what I have to do—
beat down
my bitter rage.
100
Against my
inclinations,
[80]
I
follow what my masters say,
whether
right or wrong.
Still,
behind our veils
we
weep for her, this girl,
her
senseless suffering,
as
grief, concealed and cold,
congeals
our hearts to ice.
ELECTRA
You women who keep our house in order,
now you're here attending me in prayers,
110
in supplication, give me your advice.
What should I say as I pour out these cups,
my offering to grief? How frame my words
to make my prayer a tribute to my father?
Shall I say I bring these gifts with love,
from doting wife to her beloved
husband,
[90]
from my
mother? I have no strength for that.
I don't know what to say, as I pour out
this oil and honey on my father's tomb.
Shall I recite the words men often use,
120
"May those who send this noble tribute
get back the same." No,
let him give them
a gift their treachery deserves! Or should
I
stand here in silence and dishonour, the way
my father died, empty out these cups,
with eyes averted as I toss the gift,
let the earth drink, and then retrace my steps,
like someone sent to carry out the trash
left over from some purifying rite?
Help me, my friends, with your advice.
130
[100]
We share a common hatred in the house.
Don't hide what's in your hearts. Don't be
afraid
of anyone. Fate waits for each of us—
the free and those in bondage to another.
Speak up, if you can think of something better.
CHORUS
LEADER
I respect your father's tomb, as if it were
an altar. So I'll speak straight from my
heart,
as you have asked.
ELECTRA
Then talk to me,
out
of your reverence for my father's grave.
CHORUS
LEADER
As you pour, bless those who are your friends.
140
ELECTRA
Of
those close to me, whom shall I call friends?
[110]
CHORUS
LEADER
First, name yourself—then anyone
who hates Aegisthus.
ELECTRA
Then I'll make this prayer
on my own behalf. Shall I include you too?
CHORUS
LEADER
That's your decision. In this ritual
you must let your judgment guide you.
ELECTRA
Who else should I then add to join with us?
CHORUS
LEADER
He may be far from home, but don't forget
Orestes.
ELECTRA
That's good. You give me excellent advice.
CHORUS
LEADER
Remember, too, the guilty murderers.
150
ELECTRA
What do I say? I've never practised this.
Teach me what I should say.
CHORUS
LEADER
Let some god
or mortal man come down on them.
ELECTRA
You
mean as judge or as avenger? Which?
[120]
CHORUS
LEADER
Pronounce these words—and clearly—
"Someone who'll pay back life by taking
life."
ELECTRA
Is it a righteous thing for me to do,
to petition gods like that?
CHORUS
Why not?
How can it not be a righteous thing to pray
to pay back one's enemies for evil?
160
ELECTRA
Oh Hermes, mighty herald, moving
between earth above and earth below,
messenger to the dead, assist me now—
summon the spirits there beneath the ground
who guard my father's house, to hear my prayers.
And call on Earth herself, who, giving birth
and nurturing all things, in due course takes
back
the swollen tide of their increasing store.
As I pour out these offering to the dead,
I call upon my father, "Pity me— 170
[130]
and
dear Orestes, too! How can we rule
in
our own home? We're beggars now,
as
if our mother traded us away,
exchanged us for her mate, Aegisthus,
her
partner in your murder. For now I live
just
like a slave. Orestes lives in exile,
far
from his estates. In their arrogance,
those
two squander all the wealth you worked for.
And
so I pray to you—dear father,
let
good fortune bring Orestes home!
180
Father,
hear me. Make me more self-controlled,
[140]
than
mother, my hand more righteous!
Those
are my prayers for us. Our enemies—
for them, my father, I pray someone will come
as your avenger, then kill your killers,
in retribution, as is just. As I pray
for our well being, I include this curse—
may
they be caught by their own evil.
Bring
us your blessing to the earth above,
with
help from gods, and Earth, and Justice,
190
all
combined to bring us victory."
[Electra pours out her libation on the tomb]
Those are my prayers, and over them I pour
libations.
Your duty now is to lament,
to
crown my prayers with flowers, chanting
[150]
your
mournful chorus for the dead.
CHORUS
Come, let our tears begin,
fall, and die, as our master died.
Let them guard us from evil,
preserve the good, and keep away
with our outpoured libations
200
the polluting curse.
Hear me, oh hear me,
my honoured master.
May your disembodied spirit
hear my prayer.
Alas, alas . . . ohhhhhhhh!
Let
him come
now,
[160]
some forceful man,
a
power with the spear.
May
he restore this house,
210
bent
Scythian bow in hand,
a
fist around his sword hilt.
Like
Ares, god of war,
let him begin the slaughter!
ELECTRA
My father's
now received his offerings.
The
earth has drunk them up. But look—
here's something new. Come, look at it with
me.
CHORUS
Speak up. My heart's afraid. It's
dancing.
ELECTRA
I see a lock of hair, an offering . . . on the
tomb.
CHORUS
Whose is it? A man's? A full-grown
girl's?
220
ELECTRA
It
shouldn't be too difficult to guess,
[170]
to sort out what this indicates.
CHORUS
How
so? Let your youth instruct your elders.
ELECTRA
No one but me could have cut this off.
CHORUS
You're right. Those who should make offerings,
cutting their hair in grief, are enemies.
ELECTRA
Look at this . . . It looks just like . . .
CHORUS
Like whose?
I want to know.
ELECTRA
Like mine. It looks identical.
CHORUS
Perhaps Orestes? Did he place it here,
a secret offering?
ELECTRA
It really looks like his . . .
230
these curls . . .
CHORUS
But how could he come back?
ELECTRA
He sent it here, a token of respect
[180]
for his dead father.
CHORUS
Those words of yours
give us fresh cause for tears, if there's no chance
Orestes will set foot in this land again.
ELECTRA
Over my heart, too, breaks a bitter wave.
I feel as if a sword had sliced right through me.
Seeing this hair, my eyes weep thirsty drops—
I can't hold back my flood of grief. There's no way
I would expect one of the citizens,
240
someone in Argos, to own this lock.
It's clearly not that murderess' hair,
my mother's—her
treatment of her children
[190]
profanes the very name of mother.
But how can I accept without a doubt
this offering's from the man I love the
most,
Orestes? I'm just clinging to a hope.
Alas. If only, like a messenger,
this hair possessed a friendly human voice,
my thoughts would not be so distracted.
250
It would tell me clearly what to do.
If
someone I detest had cut it off,
I'd throw
this lock away, but if it's from
my brother,
it could share my sorrow,
adorn this
tomb, a tribute to my father.
[200]
I call upon
the gods who understand
how storms
whirl us off course, like sailors.
But if
we're fated to come safely home,
then mighty trees can spring from tiny seeds.
[Electra notices footprints in the dirt around the tomb]
Here are some footprints—more evidence—
260
tracks
of feet, just like my own—in pairs—
two
sets of footprints, his own and others,
some
companion's. The heels, the arches—
these
prints are shaped just like my own . . .
[210]
[Electra traces the tracks from the tomb towards Orestes' hiding place. Orestes emerges to meet her as she follows the footprints]
The pain of this . . . my mind grows dizzy . . .
ORESTES
Pray for what must still be done. Thank the
gods
for answering your prayers. Entreat them
that all will work out well.
ELECTRA
What? The gods?
What have they given me?
ORESTES
You've come to see
the person you've been praying for all this time.
270
ELECTRA
Then you know the man I was calling for?
ORESTES
I know your sympathies are with Orestes.
ELECTRA
Yes, but how have my prayers been answered now?
ORESTES
I'm here. You need look no more for
friends.
I'm the dearest one you have.
ELECTRA
No, stranger.
You're
weaving a net to trap me with a trick.
[220]
ORESTES
If
so, I plot against myself as well.
ELECTRA
You just want to laugh at my distress.
ORESTES
If I laugh at you, I'm laughing at myself.
ELECTRA
Orestes . . . is it truly you? Can I
280
call you Orestes?
ORESTES
Yes, you can.
You're looking at Orestes in the
flesh.
Why take so long to recognize the truth?
When you saw the lock of hair, that token
of my grief, and traced my footprints in the
dust,
your imagination flew—you
thought
you saw
me. Look. Put this hair in place.
[230]
It's your
brother's. And it matches
yours.
See this
weaving here—that's your handiwork.
You worked
the loom. Look at this design,
290
these animals . . .
[Electra is finally convinced. She almost breaks down with joy]
Control yourself. Calm down.
Don't get
too overjoyed. Remember this—
our closest family is our
enemy.
ELECTRA
You dearest member of your father's house.
the seed of hope through all our weeping—
trust to your own strength and win back again
your father's home. How my eyes rejoice!
To me you are four different loves—fate
declares that I must call you father,
and on you falls the love I ought to feel
300
[240]
towards my mother, who's
earned my hate.
Then there's the love I bore my sister,
Iphigeneia, that cruel sacrifice—
and you're my faithful brother. You alone
sustained my sense of honour. May Power
and Justice
stand with us now, our allies—
and may almighty Zeus make
up the third.
ORESTES
O Zeus, Zeus, look down on what we do!
See the abandoned fledglings of the eagle,
whose
father perished in the viper's coils,
310
that deadly net. Orphans now, we bear
the pangs of hunger, not yet mature enough
[250]
to bring our father's quarry to the nest.
See us like this—I mean me and
Electra—
children without a father, both
outcasts,
banished from
our home. If you wipe out
these fledglings, what respect will you
receive
at
feasts from hands like his, their father's,
who offered you such wealthy sacrifice?
Kill off the eagle's brood,
then who will trust
320
the signs you send? If this royal stock decays,
[260]
it cannot consecrate your altars
with sacrificial oxen in the morning.
Stand by us. You can elevate our house
from its
debased condition, make it great,
though now it seems completely ruined.
CHORUS
LEADER
Children, saviours of your father's home,
don't speak too loud. Someone may hear you,
my children, and to hear his tongue run on
report this to those in charge. How I wish
330
I see them dead one day, roasting in flames,
sizzling like pitch.
ORESTES
Apollo's great oracle
surely will defend me. Its orders were
that I should undertake this danger.
[270]
It cried out in prophecy, foretelling
many winters
of calamity would chill
my
hot heart, if I did not take revenge
on those who killed my
father. It ordered me
to murder them the way they murdered him,
insisting they
could not pay the penalty
340
with their possessions. The oracle declared,
"If not, you'll pay the debt with your own life,
a life of troubles." It spoke a revelation,
making known to men the wrath of blood guilt—
from underneath the earth, infectious plagues,
leprous sores which gnaw the flesh, fangs chewing
[280]
living
tissue, festering white rot in the sores.
It mentioned other
miseries as well—
attacks
by vengeful Furies, stemming
from
a slaughtered father's blood, dark bolts
350
from
gods below, aroused by murdered kinsmen
calling
for revenge, frenzied night fits.
Such terrors plague the man—he sees them all
so
clearly, eyeballs rolling in the dark.
Then
he's chased in exile from the city,
his body
scourged by bronze-tipped whips.
[290]
A
man like this can never share the wine bowl,
no
libations mixed with love. We don't see
his
father's anger, but it casts him out—
no
access to an altar. There's no relief,
360
and
no one takes him in, until at last,
universally
despised, without a friend,
he
wastes in all-consuming pain and dies.
Am
I not right to trust such oracles?
Even
if I don't, the work must still be done.
Many
feelings lead to one conclusion—
the
gods' decree, my keen paternal grief,
[300]
the
weight of poverty I bear. Besides,
my
countrymen, most glorious of men,
whose
courageous spirit brought down Troy,
370
should
not be subject to a pair of women.
For
Aegisthus is at heart a woman—
if
not, we'll learn about it soon enough.
CHORUS
Oh mighty Fates, bring all this to pass.
Through Zeus' power, make all things right.
For Justice, as she turns the scales
exacting retribution, cries aloud,
"Hostile words for hostile words—
[310]
let it be done. One murderous stroke
is
paid off by another lethal blow.
380
The
one who acts must suffer."
So
runs the ancient saying,
now three
generations old.
ORESTES
Oh
my unhappy father,
what
can I say for you or do,
to
send you, where you rest
so
far away, some light
to
drive away your darkness?
But
nonetheless some joy
[320]
comes
from a funeral lament
390
for
glorious sons of Atreus,
who
once possessed the house.
CHORUS
My
child, among the dead
the
savage jaws of fire
cannot
destroy the spirit.
He'll
show his rage in time.
Dead
men receive their dirge—
the guilty stand revealed.
A father's
funeral lament,
strong
and clear and just,
400
searches
far and wide,
[330]
confounding
those who killed.
ELECTRA
Hear
us now, my father,
as,
in turn, we mourn and weep.
Your
two children at your tomb
now
sing your death song.
Your
tomb has welcomed us,
two suppliants
and outcasts.
What
in this is good?
What
free from trouble?
410
Who
wrestles death and wins?
CHORUS
But
if god wills it, he can turn
[340]
our
dirges into joyful songs—
instead of funeral laments
around this monument
chants of triumph ringing out
throughout the palace halls,
a welcome celebration
for reunion with a friend.
ORESTES
My father, if only you had died
420
hit by some Lycian spear at Troy!
You'd have left your glory
with your children in their home.
In their dealings with the world
men would now honour them.
[350]
You'd have won a tomb raised high
in lands across the seas, a death
your home could bear with ease.
CHORUS
Dear to the men you loved,
the ones who died so bravely,
430
you'd stand out under earth,
as a majestic lord, minister
of the mightiest gods below,
who rule the dead. In life,
you were a king of men—
[360]
the ones who hold the staff
that every man obeys,
those with authority
to sentence men to die.
ELECTRA
I don't want you dead, my father,
440
not even under Trojan walls,
with all those other men
who perished by the spear,
where the Scamander flows.
No. I'd much prefer
your killers had been killed
by their own families,
just as they murdered you.
People then in far-off lands
would hear about their
deaths
450 [370]
and not our present trouble.
CHORUS
Children, these things you say
are merely your desires,
finer than gold, greater still
than the great happiness
of those who live in bliss
beyond the northern wind.
But wishing is an easy thing.
Still, now it's striking home,
that double whip—for now
460
protectors underneath the earth
are helping us. Our masters
are unholy creatures
with polluted hands.
The children win the day!
ORESTES
Our
words, like arrows,
[380]
pierce down into the earth
straight to my father's ear.
O Zeus, Zeus, send us
from the world below
470
your long-delayed revenge,
pay back the wickedness
brought on by human hands.
Oh, let that come to pass—
and thus avenge all fathers.
CHORUS
Let my heart cry out in triumph
when that man is stabbed,
when that woman dies.
Why should my spirit hide
what hovers here before me,
480
when
driving hatred, like a storm,
[390]
a biting head wind,
breaks across my heart?
ELECTRA
Oh, when will mighty Zeus
strike them with his fist—
split their skulls apart!
Alas, alas! Give our land
some sign—confirm our faith.
From these crimes I seek
the rights of justice.
490
Oh Earth, hear me, and you,
blessed gods in earth below.
CHORUS
It's the law—once drops of
blood
[400]
are shed upon the ground
they cry out for still more blood.
Slaughter calls upon the Furies
of those who have been killed.
Thus,
hard on murder's heels
destruction comes again.
ORESTES
Lords of the world below, alas,
500
see the mighty curses of the dead.
See survivors of the line of Atreus,
here in our helplessness,
outcasts from home, dishonoured.
Oh Zeus, where can we turn?
CHORUS
My fond heart races once again
[410]
to hear your pitiful lament.
But as I listen to your words
I lose my hope. My heart
grows dark. But then again
510
hope comes to make me strong—
all my unhappiness is gone.
I see a bright new dawn.
ELECTRA
To what can we appeal? What else
but to the agonies we suffer,
anguish from the one who bore us,
our mother. So let her
grovel.
[420]
She'll not appease our pain.
We're bred from her, like
wolves,
whose savage hearts do not relent.
520
CHORUS
Like some Asian wailing woman,
I beat out my lament, my fists
keep pounding out the blows
in quick succession. You see
my hands—I stretch them out,
then strike down from above.
My torment beats upon my head
until it breaks for sorrow.
ELECTRA
Oh cruel and reckless mother,
[430]
that savage burial, our king,
530
no fellow citizens around,
no suffering procession—
you dared place him in the tomb
without the rites of mourning.
ORESTES
Alas. As you say, totally disgraced.
But she'll pay for his dishonour,
by the gods, by my own hands.
Let me kill her. Then let me die.
CHORUS
And let me tell you this—
she first hacked off his limbs,
540
[440]
then hung them round his neck.
That's how she buried him,
to make that slaughter
a burden on your life—
a thing you couldn't bear.
You hear me? Your father's death—
she made it an abomination.
ELECTRA
You describe my father's death,
but I too was utterly disgraced,
worth nothing, set apart,
550
inside a cell, as if I were
some rabid dog. I wept.
What had I to laugh about,
as I shed all those tears in hiding?
Hear that. Carve that on your heart.
[450]
CHORUS
Let your ears pick up her story,
but keep your spirit firm.
Things now stand as they stand.
You're keen to know what's next,
but you must wait, prepared
570
to fight on with no turning back.
ORESTES
Father, I call on you. Stand by your children.
ELECTRA
Through these tears I join his call.
CHORUS
In unison, our voices blend as one—
hear us. Return into the light.
Join us against our enemies.
[460]
ORESTES
Now war god Ares goes to meet
the war god Ares. Right fights with right.
ELECTRA
Dear gods, let justice choose what's right.
CHORUS
I hear these prayers and shudder.
580
This doom's been long delayed,
but it does come for those who pray.
Oh, family bred for torments,
for the bloody strokes
of harsh discordant ruin,
for pains beyond enduring,
grief that can't be staunched.
[470]
For
all this evil there's a remedy,
not from some stranger,
someone outside the house,
590
but from within, the cure
that blood strife brings,
their savage bloody fight.
To gods beneath the ground
we sing this hymn.
Hear
us, you blessed gods of earth,
hear this supplication, and assist
with your good will these children.
Give them the victory!
ORESTES
Father, you may not have perished like a king,
600
but, in answer to my prayer, make me
[480]
the master of your house.
ELECTRA
I, too, father,
have a request of you—let me escape,
once I've
accomplished this enormous task,
once Aegisthus is destroyed.
ORESTES
Yes.
Then men would set up on your behalf
those feasts of honour our laws demand.
But otherwise, when people sacrifice
burnt offering to Earth at solemn banquets
they will not honour you.
ELECTRA
And I, too,
610
at my marriage feast, from the full store
of what I inherit in my father's house,
will pour libations to you. And your tomb
I'll honour above all other shrines.
ORESTES
O Earth, send my father up to see our fight.
ELECTRA
O Persephone, grant us glorious power.
[490]
ORESTES
My father, remember that bath
where you were slaughtered.
ELECTRA
Remember the net in which they killed you.
ORESTES
My father, you were trapped in fetters,
620
but they weren't forged in bronze.
ELECTRA
They covered you
with their deceit and shame.
ORESTES
Father, these taunts—
do they not stir your spirit?
ELECTRA
Will you raise
that
beloved head of yours upright?
ORESTES
Either send
Justice here to stand with us,
the
ones you love, or let us, in our turn,
catch
them in our grip, as they caught you—
that is, if you want to beat them down,
after the way they overpowered you.
ELECTRA
Father, listen to my last appeal—
630 [500]
see your children huddled at your tomb.
Take pity on them, your son and daughter.
ORESTES
Don't let the seed of Pelops disappear.
With us alive, in death you cannot die.
ELECTRA
For to a man that's dead his children
are saving testament—like corks,
they hold up the net and keep the mesh
from sinking deep into the sea.
ORESTES
Hear us!
We're making our lament on your behalf.
Honour our request and save yourself.
640
CHORUS
LEADER
There's nothing wrong expanding your lament.
[510]
For that will honour this neglected tomb.
But since your heart is rightly set to act,
it's time to test your fortune, time to start.
ORESTES
You're right. But first we might ask this question:
Why did that woman send out these libations?
What did she have in mind, trying so late
to heal a crime which cannot be forgiven?
What she sent here was paltry tribute
to the unforgiving dead. I don't see
650
what she intends. The gift's too trivial
for her offence. As the old saying runs,
"Pour out all you've got to make amends
[520]
for bloodshed, your work is all in vain."
If you know her reason, tell me now.
I'd like to hear.
CHORUS
LEADER
My child, I know—I was there.
She had bad dreams. Vague terrors in the night
upset her. So that godless woman sent these gifts.
ORESTES
Do you know the nature of her dreams?
Can you give me details?
CHORUS
LEADER
She'd given birth,
660
but to a snake. That's what she told me.
ORESTES
How did the dream end up? What happened?
CHORUS
LEADER
She set it in bed wrapped in swaddling clothes,
just like a child.
ORESTES
And that newborn snake,
what did it want for nourishment?
[530]
CHORUS
LEADER
She dreamt she offered it her breasts.
ORESTES
Didn't the monster bite her nipple?
CHORUS
LEADER
No. But with her milk it sucked out clots of blood.
ORESTES
It's an omen. Her vision means a man.
CHORUS
LEADER
She woke up with a scream, quite terrified.
670
Many torches which stay unlit at night
were set ablaze throughout the house
to calm our mistress. Then she sent out
libations for the dead—in the hope
they'd work like medicine for her distress.
ORESTES
I pray to Earth and to my father's tomb
[540]
that this dream will fulfill itself in me.
I think it matches me in every point.
If that snake came from the same womb as me,
if it was wrapped up in my swaddling clothes
680
and opened up its jaws to suck the milk
that nourished me, mixing sweet milk with blood,
so she cried out in terror at the sight,
then that must mean she'll die by violence,
from nursing such a violent beast.
I am that snake. And I will kill her.
[550]
That's the meaning of this dream.
CHORUS
LEADER
Your reading of her dream seems right to me.
So let it come. Tell your friends the rest—
what they must do or take care not to do.
690
ORESTES
My plan is simple. First, Electra here
must go inside. I'm instructing her
to keep this bond with me a secret.
The two in there deceived a noble man,
then killed him. So we'll use deceit on them.
They'll die in the same net. Lord Apollo,
who's never wrong in what he prophesies,
has ordered this. I'll approach the outer gates,
[560]
pretending I'm a stranger, prepared
for anything. Pylades goes with me,
700
as guest and ally of the house. We two
will speak Parnassian dialect of
Phocis.
If no one at the gate is in the
mood
to let us in, alleging that the
house
is haunted by some evil demon,
we'll wait there so any
passer-by
will be intrigued and say,
"What's going on?
Why does Aegisthus shut his doors
like this
[570]
against a suppliant? Is he at home?
Is he aware of this?" If
I get past the gate,
710
across the outer threshold, then find
that man
seated on my father's throne or meet
him
face to face, his eyes will shift
and fall,
I promise you. Before he's had time to ask,
"Stranger, what country are you
from?"
I'll kill him quickly with my
sword.
Our Fury never lacked for blood—
for her third draught she'll
drink his pure.
Now, Electra, keep a close watch in there,
check what's going on inside the house.
720
We'll need to work on this together.
[580]
You women, be careful what you say—
keep quiet—speak
only when you have to.
As for the rest, I invoke Apollo
to cast his eyes down here and be my guide
when the time comes to fight it out with swords.
[Orestes, Pylades, and Electra leave together]
CHORUS
Earth brings forth many horrors—
terrors and agonies—the sea's
arms
hold monsters, savage
beasts.
Between the earth and
heaven
730
hang fiery lights,
suspended
high.
[590]
Winged birds and beasts
that walk along the ground
can also speak of storms,
the whirlwind's power.
But who of us can speak
about
the arrogance of men
or
women's reckless passion
beyond
all self-control,
so
they become conspirators
740
in
all our lethal woes?
Passionate desire
wins out—
it
gains a fatal victory
in every woman.
It
ends all married
love
[600]
in men and beasts.
A man with any sense
should recognize these things,
once he recalls Althaea,
ruthless child of Thestius,
750
who planned her own son's ruin.
She burned the fatal torch,
knowing that Meleager's life,
from the time he first appeared
howling from his mother's womb,
depended on that wood.
And so it was—he stayed
alive
[610]
until her fire doomed him.
Another story of a hateful
girl
tells of that murderous Scylla,
760
who
killed her father,
brought
to it by his enemies.
Tempted
by a gift from Minos,
a golden necklace made in Crete,
she
plucked out her father's hair,
the
one which made Nisus immortal.
As
he lay peacefully asleep,
[620]
he
died, murdered by that bitch,
and
Hermes led him off.
As
I recall these stories
770
of savagery without remorse,
it's time to speak of marriages
in which there was no love,
which laid a curse upon the house,
schemes devised by woman's cunning
against her warrior lord, a man
his enemies have cause to honour.
I value hearth and home
where passions do not rule,
where women's spirits
780
rein in their
waywardness.
[630]
Of
all such tales of crime, the worst
concerns the isle of Lemnos,
where all the women killed their men.
At that story people moan—
they weep for that abomination.
When some new troubles come
men measure them by Lemnos.
Horror at that deed brought on
the hatred of the gods, and thus,
790
cast out by humankind and in disgrace,
that women's race dies out.
No man can hold in reverence
what gods abhor. So of these tales
which one can I not
justly cite?
Justice wields her sword.
She thrusts it home—
hungry and
sharp,
[640]
it slices
deep,
right by the lungs—
800
and
so the lawlessness
of
those who flout what's right,
who
violate the majesty of Zeus,
lies
trampled underfoot.
The anvil of Justice now holds firm.
Fate
hammers out her sword—
she
forges it in time.
At
last the brooding Fury comes,
famous
spirit of revenge—
leading
a child inside the house,
810
to
cleanse the stain of blood,
[650]
the
family curse from long ago.
[Enter Orestes and Pylades, with a couple of attendants. They move up to the front doors of the royal palace. Orestes knocks loudly on the door]
ORESTES
Hey, in there! You hear this knocking on
the door?
I'll try again. Anyone in there?
All right, a third attempt. I'm knocking
here—
are you coming out? Anyone in there?
Hello! Does Aegisthus welcome strangers?
SERVANT
[from within]
All
right. All right. I hear you. Stranger,
what
country are you from? Who are you?
ORESTES
Announce
me to the masters of the house.
820
I've
come to bring them news. And hurry!
[660]
Night's
black chariot is speeding overhead.
It's
time for people on the road to rest—
drop
anchor where all strangers feel at home.
Tell
someone to come out who's in control—
the
mistress would be fine, the master
even
better. We could speak our minds.
After
all, politeness can obscure the sense.
When
we talk man to man, we get the point—
we
say just what we mean without reserve.
830
[Clytaemnestra and Electra enter through the palace doors]
CLYTAEMNESTRA
Stranger, welcome. Just ask for what you
need.
Inside we have all luxuries of home—
warm baths
and beds to charm away your pains.
[670]
We live
under the eyes of Justice here.
But if your
business is more serious,
men's work,
then we'll send for Aegisthus.
ORESTES
I'm a stranger—a Daulian
from Phocis—
coming to Argos on private
business,
carrying this pack. I need to pause and
rest.
On my way here I ran into a man—
840
we'd never
met before. He told me
where he
was going and asked my route.
As we
talked, I learned his name—Strophius.
He came
from Phocis, too. And he said this,
"Well,
friend, since you're heading off to
Argos,
[680]
here's
a message for Orestes' parents,
something
they've a right to know, so please
remember
it: Orestes is dead. Don't forget.
Then, when you return, you
can tell me
whether his family wants to
bring him back
850
or have him buried here in
Phocis,
where he's a stranger,
forever outcast.
Right now his ashes sit in
a bronze urn.
The man was truly
mourned." That's my message.
That's what I heard.
At this point I'm not sure
whether I'm telling this to
anyone who cares,
but Orestes' parent ought
to be
informed.
[690]
CLYTAEMNESTRA
I . . . this news . . . what you just said . . .
it's shattering . . . that curse we can't
repress.
It haunts the house, ranges everywhere . .
.
860
Someone kept safe and far away from here
the curse seeks out. Its arrow strikes and
kills.
It takes those I love, drives me to desperation.
And now Orestes. He was well prepared.
He kept his feet well clear of muddy ground
where hidden danger lurks. He offered hope
the Furies' striking revels in this house
might find a cure. Now, from what you say,
we've lost that hope.
ORESTES
As far as I'm
concerned,
[700]
with
hosts as prosperous as you, I wish
870
you'd
seen me as the bearer of good news
and
welcomed me for that. What's kinder
than
the link between a stranger and his host?
But
to my mind, it would have been profane
if
I'd not told his loved ones, as I promised,
as hospitality demands.
CLYTAEMNESTRA
Don't worry.
You'll
receive what you deserve. In this house
you're
no less welcome for your news,
which,
in any case, someone else would bring.
But
now's the time when strangers on the
road
880
[710]
get
entertained once their long journey's done.
[Clytaemnestra turns to Electra, ordering her as if she were a servant]
You there—take
this traveler to the rooms
we
use to entertain our guests—and with him
these fellow travelers, his attendants.
Look
after them the way this house requires.
Those
are my orders. See you follow them.
I'm
holding you responsible. Meanwhile,
I'll
go find the master of the house,
tell
him the news. We don't lack friends—
from
them we'll seek
advice about this death.
890
[Electra escorts Orestes, Pylades, and their attendants into the palace. Clytaemnestra enters the palace. The Chorus is left alone on stage]
CHORUS
LEADER
Dear
fellow slaves who serve this house,
how
long before our words can demonstrate
just how
strongly we support
Orestes?
[720]
CHORUS
O sacred Earth,
heaped-up burial mound,
lying above that noble corpse,
commander of the ships,
hear me now,
help me now.
Now's the moment
900
for Persuasion to come in
with her deceit,
for that stealthy god,
Hermes of the lower world,
to guide the fight,
the fatal clash of swords.
[Enter Orestes' Nurse, Cilissa, in tears]
CHORUS
LEADER
It seems the stranger's mischief is at
work.
[730]
Here comes Orestes'
nurse. I see she's crying.
Cilissa, why are you
walking by the gates,
with your unpaid companion
Sorrow?
910
NURSE
My mistress ordered me to
fetch Aegisthus
to meet the strangers—and
to hurry up—
so he can find out clearly,
man to man,
the news that's just
arrived. With servants
she puts on her gloomy face,
but deep down
her eyes are laughing at
how well all this
has ended up for
her. But for this
house
[740]
the stranger's news
is simply a disaster.
Once Aegisthus hears, gets
the full report,
he'll jump for joy.
How miserable I feel!
920
The old troubles of the
house of Atreus,
so hard to bear, how
they've hurt my heart.
I get these chest
pains. But a blow like this—
I've never had to bear such
sorrow.
Other troubles I've endured
with patience,
but dear Orestes, how it
breaks my heart.
When he was born, I got him
from his
mother.
[750]
I nursed him. I spent all
night on my feet,
answering his cries.
So much tiring work—
all for nothing. A
helpless child like that
930
one has to nurse as if he
were a beast.
How'd I do that? By
following his moods.
A child in swaddling
clothes can't speak at all.
So if
he needed something to eat or drink,
or had just wet himself,
his one response
came from his
instincts. So I had to use
a prophet's skill.
But often I was wrong.
I had to launder
linen. Yes, I was
wet nurse and washerwoman,
all in
one,
[760]
two special skills. I
received Orestes
940
from his own father's
hands. Now he's dead.
That's what I've been
told. It makes me cry.
Well, I must go. I
have to fetch Aegisthus,
the man who brought this
house to ruin.
He'll be glad enough to
hear my words.
CHORUS
LEADER
Did she tell him how to
come and what to bring?
NURSE
How's that? Say it again. I need a clearer sense
of what you're asking.
CHORUS
LEADER
Did she tell him
to come with guards or
unattended?
NURSE
She said he should bring
his spearmen with him.
950
CHORUS
LEADER
Don't give that message to
Aegisthus,
[770]
that hateful tyrant.
Tell him to come alone,
with a joyous heart, as
quickly as he can.
He won't suspect a thing.
The messenger
can straighten out a crooked
message.
NURSE
What? Does your heart
feel good about this news?
CHORUS
LEADER
Why not, if Zeus turns evil
into good?
NURSE
How's that to happen?
Orestes,
the house's hope, is gone.
CHORUS
LEADER
Not so fast.
A prophet who claimed that
would be a bad one.
960
NURSE
What are you saying?
Do you know something
more than what I've heard?
CHORUS
LEADER
Go on then.
Relay your message.
Do what you've been told.
Let the gods care about
what most concerns
them.
[780]
NURSE
All right, I'll go and do
what you suggest.
With blessings from the
gods, I pray all this
will work out for the best.
[Exit Nurse, off in search of Aegisthus, who is not in the palace]
CHORUS
Now, in answer to my prayers,
I implore you, Zeus,
father of Olympian gods,
970
restore this house,
give it good fortune, so those
who rightly love due order
may witness it right here.
In every word we cry,
we plead for justice.
O Zeus, protect what's right.
Zeus,
Zeus,
inside that palace
[790]
place him face to face
980
before his enemies.
If you exalt him
he'll willingly repay you,
three or four times over.
You
know that orphan colt,
child of a man you cherish,
stands now in harness,
yoked to a chariot of pain.
Control the way he runs,
preserve his pace,
990
so he will last the course,
and we may see
him surge,
as he races to his goal.
You
gods inside the house,
[800]
in those inner chambers,
where you celebrate its wealth,
hear me, you gods
who sympathize with us.
Cleanse that ancient blood
of crimes committed long ago.
1000
Let old murder cease to breed.
And
Apollo, you who dwell
in that massive well-built cavern,
grant that
this man's house
may raise its head once more,
so with loving eyes we see
the veil of darkness yield
[810]
to freedom's light.
May Hermes, Maia's son,
support him in what's right.
1010
He sends the finest winds
to hold an enterprise on course,
when that's his will—
and when he so desires,
he will make known
much hidden from our view,
or speak in riddles in the night,
darkening men's eyes,
which see no better by the light of day.
Soon
at last we'll shout in song
1020
of the deliverance of this house—
[820]
no shrill lament of those who mourn,
but robust songs the sea wives sing
when the wind sits fair,
"Good sailing now—for me,
for me this means more riches—
no dangers for the ones I love."
But
you, Orestes, do your part—
when your moment comes, be brave.
When she cries out "My son!"
1030
cry in return "My father's son!"
Then murder her in innocence.
[830]
In
your heart maintain
the heart of Perseus.
Satisfy the rage
of those you love
under the earth,
and here above.
With blood murder
inside the house
1040
eradicate the cause
of all our blood-guilt.
[Enter Aegisthus]
AEGISTHUS
A stranger's story called me here—
I'm told that travelers have arrived
with startling and unwelcome news—
[840]
Orestes is dead—yet
one more burden
laid upon this house, a terrifying load,
while it still bears raw festering wounds
from earlier murder. But is what they saw
the living truth? That's what I must confirm.
1050
Or is it some fearful women's gossip,
which blazes up, then dies away to nothing?
Can you clear my mind? What do you know?
CHORUS
LEADER
Well, we heard the news. But go inside.
You can learn it from the guests themselves.
The power in a messenger's report
is not like hearing what he has to say
when you confront him face
to face.
[850]
AEGISTHUS
I want to see this messenger and check
if he was present at Orestes' death,
1060
or if he's just repeating what he heard
from some vague rumours. I'll see through him.
These keen eyes of mine won't be deceived.
[Exit Aegisthus into the palace]
CHORUS
Zeus, O Zeus,
what do I say? How do I start
appealing to the gods in prayer?
How from a loyal heart
can I find what to say,
matching words with deeds?
Now blood-stained blades
1070
are slicing men to death
[860]
and totally destroy forever
Agamemnon's house, or else
with freedom's blazing
light
Orestes wins the throne,
and all his father's
riches.
The ambush now is set—
noble Orestes by himself
must face two enemies.
Let him emerge the victor!
1080
[Aegisthus screams in pain from inside the palace]
CHORUS
MEMBERS [speaking separately]
Listen!
[870]
What was that?
What's going on
in there, inside the
palace?
[Some members of the chorus start to move towards the palace doors]
CHORUS
LEADER
Stay back. Until this
work is finished,
we won't get involved in
all
the bloodshed.
That way no one can blame us.
[A servant emerges through the palace doors]
It's over.
Whatever the result, the
fighting's over.
SERVANT
Oh, it's horrible—my
master's killed!
He's dead.
Alas. I'll cry it out again,
a third time, Aegisthus is
no more!
[The servant moves to a side door and tries desperately to pull it open]
Come on! Come on! Open this door! Hurry!
1090
Unbolt the women's
doors! A strong right arm
is all it takes! Not
to help Aegisthus—
he's already dead. No
point in trying.
[880]
Come on! Am I
shouting to the deaf,
or are you all
asleep?
[The servant gives up pounding on the side door]
A waste of time.
Where's Clytaemnestra
gone? What's she doing?
Her own neck's resting on
the razor's edge—
this justice could strike
her down as well.
[Enter Clytaemnestra through the doors]
CLYTAEMNESTRA
What's happening? Why are you shouting
all around the house?
SERVANT
I'm telling you
1100
the dead are murdering the living!
CLYTAEMNESTRA
I see. I understand your paradox.
We're being destroyed by someone's trickery,
just as we destroyed. All right, then,
get me a man-killing axe—and quickly!
[Exit servant into the palace]
Let's see now if we win through or
lose.
[890]
The wretched business brings me
down to this.
[The palace doors open to reveal the dead body of Aegisthus with Orestes standing over it. Pylades is beside Orestes]
ORESTES
The very one I seek. This fellow here
has had enough.
CLYTAEMNESTRA
No, not Aegisthus,
not my love, my power . . . dead.
1110
ORESTES
You loved this man? Then
you'll find your rest
in a common grave with him—he's
one man
you won't abandon when he dies.
CLYTAEMNESTRA
Hold off, my son, my child.
Take pity
on these breasts. Here you
often lay asleep.
Your toothless gums sucked out the
milk
that made you strong.
ORESTES
Pylades, what do I do?
It's a dreadful act to kill my
mother.
PYLADES
What then becomes of what Apollo
said,
[900]
what he foretold at Delphi?
We made an oath.
1120
Make all men your enemies but not
the gods.
ORESTES
That's good advice. As judge in this debate
I say you prevail.
[Orestes turns on Clytaemnestra, pulls her towards the body of Aegisthus]
Over here.
I want to kill you right beside this man.
When he was alive, you considered him
better than my father, so once you're dead
you can sleep on by his side. You loved
him.
The man you should have loved you hated.
CLYTAEMNESTRA
I brought you up. Let me grow
old with you.
ORESTES
What? Kill my father and then
live with me?
1130
CLYTAEMNESTRA
My child, in this our fate's to
blame.
[910]
ORESTES
Then, in the same way, Fate brings
your death.
CLYTAEMNESTRA
My son, do you not fear your
mother's curse?
ORESTES
You bore me, then threw me
out to misery.
CLYTAEMNESTRA
No, no—I sent you to
live with a friend.
ORESTES
You sold me in disgrace—a free
man's son.
CLYTAEMNESTRA
What's the price I charged for you?
ORESTES
That's too shameful to declare in
public.
CLYTAEMNESTRA
Don't forget to name your father's
failings, too.
ORESTES
Don't charge him with anything—he
worked hard 1140
while you sat here at home.
CLYTAEMNESTRA
My son, it's painful
[920]
for women to go on without their men.
ORESTES
Maybe, but while they're safe at home, their men
look after them.
CLYTAEMNESTRA
My son, you really mean to do this—
to slaughter your own mother?
ORESTES
You kill yourself.
I'll not be the murderer. You
will.
CLYTAEMNESTRA
Take care.
The vicious hounds which avenge all mothers
will hunt you down.
ORESTES
What about my father's.
If I don't kill you, there's no escaping them.
CLYTAEMNESTRA
It seems as if, while still alive,
I waste
1150
my useless tears at my own tomb.
ORESTES
My father's destiny has marked you
out.
It states that you must die.
CLYTAEMNESTRA
Alas for me.
You are the snake I bore and
nourished.
ORESTES
Yes. That terror in your
dream foretold the truth.
You killed the man you should not
kill, and now
[930]
you'll suffer what no one should
ever see.
[Orestes
pushes Clytaemnestra inside the palace doors. Pylades goes with
them. The doors close behind them]
CHORUS LEADER
The fate of these two victims makes me grieve.
But long-suffering Orestes rides the crest
of so much bloodshed, we'd prefer he triumph—
1160
the
bright eyes of this house must never fade.
CHORUS
Just
as justice came at last
to
Priam and his sons,
a
crushing retribution,
so
a double lion comes
to
Agamemnon's house,
a
two-fold slaughter.
Apollo's
suppliant, the exile,
[940]
sees his action through,
driven
on by justice
1170
sent from gods above.
Raise now a shout of triumph
above our master's house,
free
of misery at last,
free
of that tainted couple
squandering
its wealth,
and
free of its unhappy fate.
He came back with a secret plan,
fighting to win crafty vengeance.
The
goddess took him by the hand,
1180
true
daughter of great Zeus,
his
guide throughout the fight.
[950]
Men
call her rightful Justice—
who destroys her enemies
once
she breathes in anger.
Raise a shout of triumph now
above
our master's house,
free
of misery at last,
free
of that tainted couple
squandering
its wealth,
1190
free
of its unhappy destiny.
From his shrine deep within the earth,
Parnassian Apollo spoke in prophecy—
"Well intentioned stealthy
trickery
will
conquer long-entrenched deceit."
I
pray his words somehow prevail,
so
I never am a slave to wickedness.
True
reverence should worship heaven's rule.
[960]
Look now, dawn is coming!
Great
chains on the home are falling off.
1200
Let
this house rise up! For far too long
it's
lain in pieces on the ground.
Time, which brings all things to pass,
will soon move
through these doors,
once purifying rites
expel
polluting
evil. That will change
the roll of
fortune's dice—they'll fall
so
all can see the fair result,
a
happy destiny once more
[970]
for
all who live within the house.
1210
Look now, dawn is coming!
Great
chains on the home are falling off.
Let
this house rise up! For far too long
it's
lain in pieces on the ground.
[The palace doors are thrown open, revealing Orestes standing above the bodies of Aegisthus and Clytaemnestra. Pylades stands beside Orestes. With them are attendants holding the bloodstained robes of Agamemnon]
ORESTES
Here
you see them—this
pair of tyrants.
They
killed my father, then robbed my home.
Once
they sat enthroned in regal splendour.
They're
lovers still, as you can witness here
by
how they died, true to the oaths they swore.
They made a pact to murder my poor father,
1220
then
die together. Well, they've kept their word.
[Orestes starts unfurling the robes in which Agamemnon was killed]
Look at this again, all those of you
[980]
who
pay attention to this house's troubles.
This
robe they used to trap my helpless father.
With
it they tied his hands and lashed his feet.
Spread
it out. Stand round here in a group—
put
it on display, my father's death shroud,
so
that the Father (not mine—the one
who
sees everything, the Sun) can see
my
mother's sacrilege. Then he will come
1230
on
the day when I am judged, to testify
that
I pursued and even killed my mother
in
a just cause. About Aegisthus' death
there's nothing I need say.
As an adulterer,
[990]
he
dies—our
law's just punishment.
But as for her who planned this evil act
against her husband, a man whose children
she carried in her womb—I loved her once,
but she became my bitter enemy,
as you can see. What do you make of her?
1240
If she'd been born a viper or sea snake,
she wouldn't need to bite—her very touch
would make men rot, so evil is her heart,
so reckless.
[Orestes stoops and picks up the bloody robe]
What do I call this?
What fine words will do? A snare for some
wild beast?
A corpse's shroud? The curtain from a bath
wrapped round his legs? No. It's a hunting
net.
That name sounds right—robes to trap a man,
[1000]
entangling his feet, something a highway thief
might use to trick and rob a stranger.
1250
With such a net he'd take so many lives,.
his pleasure in the work would warm his heart.
May I never live with such a woman.
Before that, let the gods destroy me—
let me die without a child.
CHORUS
Alas for this horrific act,
the monstrous way she died.
But woe on the survivor, too—
his suffering begins to flower.
ORESTES
Did she
commit the crime or not? Come here.
1260
[1010]
This clothing is my witness, dyed with blood.
It's from Aegisthus' blade. These bloody stains
with time have blotted out the fine embroidery.
But I can praise my father; now at last
I'm here to mourn him, as I hold this robe,
the net that brought about my father's death.
But I lament my act, my suffering.
I mourn the entire race, for though I've won,
I can't avoid the guilt which now pollutes me.
CHORUS
No mortal goes through life unscathed,
1270
free from pain until the end.
One trouble comes today,
yet another comes tomorrow.
[1020]
ORESTES
[starting to break down]
But still, you need to understand . . .
I don't know how this will end . . . I feel like
some
chariot racer lashing on my team,
but
we're way off track . . . My mind is racing . . .
it's
lost control. Something's overpowering me . . .
carrying
me off . . . Deep in my heart, fear
prepares
its furious song and dance.
1280
So
while I still have my wits about me,
to
all my friends I publicly proclaim
I
killed my mother not without just cause.
She
was guilty of my father's murder,
a
woman gods despised. What drove me on?
I
cite as my chief cause the Delphic prophet,
[1030]
Apollo's
priest, who said this to me,
"If
you carry out this act, you'll go free—
no
charge of evil. But if you refuse . . . "
I
won't describe the punishment—
1290
no
arrow fired from a bow could reach
the
top of so much pain.
[Pylades hands Orestes an olive branch, the mark of a suppliant to Apollo's oracle at Delphi]
Look at me now—
armed
with this branch and wreath, I go
a
suppliant to earth's central navel stone,
Apollo's
realm, to that sacred flame
which,
people say, never dies away,
an
exile who murdered his own blood.
Apollo's
prophet gave me his orders—
I'm
to go to his shrine, no other place.
As
to how I did this brutal act,
1300
I
call all men of Argos—be my witnesses
[1040]
to Menelaus when he comes back home.
Remember
me in years to come. Now I go,
wandering
in exile from my country.
Whether
I live or die, I leave with you
your
memory of me.
CHORUS
LEADER
But you've done great things.
Why
depress your spirit with such talk,
ominous
predictions, evil omens?
You've
freed the city, all of Argos,
hacking
off the heads of those two serpents,
1310
a
healing blow.
[Orestes is suddenly overpowered with fear by a vision of his mother's Furies coming after him]
ORESTES
No . . . They're here . . .
Look,
you women . . . over there . . .
like Gorgons draped
in black . . . their heads
hundreds of writhing snakes . . .
[1050]
I
can't stand it here . . .
CHORUS
LEADER
What's wrong? What are you looking at?
Of
all men you have a father's strongest love,
so
stay calm. Don't give in to fear
ORESTES
It's no imagined horror.
It's
real. Out there my mother's blood hounds wait.
They
want revenge.
CHORUS
LEADER
Your hands are still blood stained—
that's
made your mind disordered.
ORESTES
Lord Apollo! 1320
They
come at me! Hordes of them! Their eyes
drip
blood . . . it's horrible!
CHORUS
LEADER
There's just one cure—
Apollo's
touch will cleanse you, set you free
[1060]
of
these hallucinations.
ORESTES
You don't see them. I do.
They're
coming for me. I have to leave . . .
[Orestes runs off. Pylades follows him]
CHORUS
LEADER
Good
fortune go with you. And may god
watch
over you, protect you with his favours.
CHORUS
The
third storm has broken on the palace,
then
run its course across the royal clan.
First,
came the torments of those children
1330
slaughtered
for Thyestes' food. Next came
[1070]
the
suffering of a man, our warrior lord,
Achaea's
king. And now the third—
do
I call him our saviour or our doom?
When
will all this cease? When will murder,
its
fury spent, rest at last in sleep?
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