The Seven Plays in English Verse Part 35

From ambush deep and dread I 2 With power of many a hand And many hastening feet shall spring The Fury of the adamantine tread, Visiting Argive land Swift recompense to bring For eager dalliance of a blood-stained pair Unhallowed, foul, forbidden. No omen fair,-- Their impious course hath fixed this in my soul,-- Nought but black portents full of blame shall roll Before their eyes that wrought or aided there.

Small force of divination would there seem In prophecy or solemn dream, Should not this vision of the night Reach harbour in reality aright.

O chariot-course of Pelops, full of toil[4]! II How wearisome and sore Hath been thine issue to our native soil!-- Since, from the golden oar Hurled to the deep afar, Myrtilus sank and slept, Cruelly plucked from that fell chariot-floor, This house unceasingly hath kept Crime and misfortune mounting evermore.

_Enter_ CLYTEMNESTRA.

CLYTEMNESTRA. Again you are let loose and range at will.

Ay, for Aegisthus is not here, who barred Your rashness from defaming your own kin Beyond the gates. But now he's gone from home, You heed not me: though you have noised abroad That I am bold in crime, and domineer Outrageously, oppressing thee and thine.

I am no oppressor, but I speak thee ill, For thou art ever speaking ill of me-- Still holding forth thy father's death, that I Have done it. So I did: I know it well: That I deny not; for not I alone But Justice slew him; and if you had sense, To side with Justice ought to be your part.

For who but he of all the Greeks, your sire, For whom you whine and cry, who else but he Took heart to sacrifice unto the G.o.ds Thy sister?--having less of pain, I trow, In getting her, than I, that bore her, knew!

Come, let me question thee! On whose behalf Slew he my child? Was 't for the Argive host?

What right had they to traffic in my flesh?-- Menelaus was his brother. Wilt thou say He slew my daughter for his brother's sake?

How then should he escape me? Had not he, Menelaus, children twain, begotten of her Whom to reclaim that army sailed to Troy?

Was Death then so enamoured of my seed, That he must feast thereon and let theirs live?

Or was the G.o.d-abandoned father's heart Tender toward them and cruel to my child?

Doth this not argue an insensate sire?

I think so, though your wisdom may demur.

And could my lost one speak, she would confirm it.

For my part, I can dwell on what I have done Without regret. You, if you think me wrong, Bring reasons forth and blame me to my face!

EL. Thou canst not say this time that I began And brought this on me by some taunting word.

But, so you'd suffer me, I would declare The right both for my sister and my sire.

CLY. Thou hast my sufferance. Nor would hearing vex, If ever thus you tuned your speech to me.

EL. Then I will speak. You say you slew him. Where Could there be found confession more depraved, Even though the cause were righteous? But I'll prove No rightful vengeance drew thee to the deed, But the vile bands of him you dwell with now.

Or ask the huntress Artemis, what sin She punished, when she tied up all the winds Round Aulis.--I will tell thee, for her voice Thou ne'er may'st hear! 'Tis rumoured that my sire, Sporting within the G.o.ddess' holy ground, His foot disturbed a dappled hart, whose death Drew from his lips some rash and boastful word.

Wherefore Latona's daughter in fell wrath Stayed the army, that in quittance for the deer My sire should slay at the altar his own child.

So came her sacrifice. The Achaean fleet Had else no hope of being launched to Troy Nor to their homes. Wherefore, with much constraint And painful urging of his backward will, Hardly he yielded;--not for his brother's sake.

But grant thy speech were sooth, and all were done In aid of Menelaus; for this cause Hadst thou the right to slay him? What high law Ordaining? Look to it, in establis.h.i.+ng Such precedent thou dost not lay in store Repentance for thyself. For if by right One die for one, thou first wilt be destroyed If Justice find thee.--But again observe The hollowness of thy pretended plea.

Tell me, I pray, what cause thou dost uphold In doing now the basest deed of all, Chambered with the blood-guilty, with whose aid Thou slewest our father in that day. For him You now bear children--ousting from their right The stainless offspring of a holy sire.

How should this plead for pardon? Wilt thou say Thus thou dost 'venge thy daughter's injury?

O shameful plea? Where is the thought of honour, If foes are married for a daughter's sake?-- Enough. No words can move thee. Thy rash tongue With checkless clamour cries that we revile Our mother. Nay, no mother, but the chief Of tyrants to us! For my life is full Of weariness and misery from thee And from thy paramour. While he abroad, Orestes, our one brother, who escaped Hardly from thy attempt, unhappy boy!

Wears out his life, victim of cross mischance.

Oft hast thou taunted me with fostering him To be thy punisher. And this, be sure, Had I but strength, I had done. Now for this word, Proclaim me what thou wilt,--evil in soul, Or loud in cursing, or devoid of shame: For if I am infected with such guilt, Methinks my nature is not fallen from thine.

CH. (_looking at_ CLYTEMNESTRA).

I see her fuming with fresh wrath: the thought Of justice enters not her bosom now.

CLY. What thought of justice should be mine for her, Who at her age can so insult a mother?

Will shame withhold her from the wildest deed?

EL. Not unashamed, a.s.sure thee, I stand here, Little as thou mayest deem it. Well I feel My acts untimely and my words unmeet.

But your hostility and treatment force me Against my disposition to this course.

Harsh ways are taught by harshness.

CLY. Brazen thing!

Too true it is that words and deeds of mine Are evermore informing thy harsh tongue.

EL. The shame is yours, because the deeds are yours.

My words are but their issue and effect.

CLY. By sovereign Artemis, whom still I serve, You'll rue this boldness when Aegisthus comes.

EL. See now, your anger bears you off, and ne'er Will let you listen, though you gave me leave.

CLY. Must I not even sacrifice in peace From your harsh clamour, when you've had your say?

EL. I have done. I check thee not. Go, sacrifice!

Accuse not me of hindering piety.

CLY. (_to an attendant_).

Then lift for me those fruitful offerings, While to Apollo, before whom we stand, I raise my supplication for release From doubts and fears that shake my bosom now.

And, O defender of our house! attend My secret utterance. No friendly ear Is that which hearkens for my voice. My thought Must not be blazoned with her standing by, Lest through her envious and wide-babbling tongue She fill the city full of wild surmise.

List, then, as I shall speak: and grant the dreams Whose two-fold apparition I to-night Have seen, if good their bodement, be fulfilled: If hostile, turn their influence on my foes.

And yield not them their wish that would by guile Thrust me from this high fortune, but vouchsafe That ever thus exempt from harms I rule The Atridae's home and kingdom, in full life, Partaking with the friends I live with now All fair prosperity, and with my children, Save those who hate and vex me bitterly.

Lykeian Phoebus, favourably hear My prayer, and grant to all of us our need!

More is there, which, though I be silent here, A G.o.d should understand. No secret thing Is hidden from the all-seeing sons of Heaven.

_Enter the_ Old Man.

OLD M. Kind dames and damsels, may I clearly know If these be King Aegisthus' palace-halls?

CH. They are, sir; you yourself have guessed aright.

OLD M. May I guess further that in yonder dame I see his queen? She looks right royally.

CH. 'Tis she,--no other,--whom your eyes behold.

OLD M. Princess, all hail! To thee and to thy spouse I come with words of gladness from a friend.

CLY. That auspice I accept. But I would first Learn from thee who of men hath sent thee forth?

OLD M. Phanoteus the Phocian, with a charge of weight.

CLY. Declare it, stranger. Coming from a friend, Thou bring'st us friendly tidings, I feel sure.

OLD M. Orestes' death. Ye have the sum in brief.

EL. Ah me! undone! This day hath ruined me.

CLY. What? Let me hear again. Regard her not.

OLD M. Again I say it, Orestes is no more.

EL. Undone! undone! Farewell to life and hope!

CLY. (_to_ ELECTRA).