ORESTES.
PERSONS REPRESENTED.
ELECTRA.
HELEN.
HERMIONE.
CHORUS.
ORESTES.
MENELAUS.
TYNDARUS.
PYLADES.
A PHRYGIAN.
APOLLO.
ORESTES.
ELECTRA.
There is no word so dreadful to relate, nor suffering, nor heaven-inflicted calamity, the burden of which human nature may not be compelled to bear. For Tantalus, the blest, (and I am not reproaching his fortune, when I say this,) the son of Jupiter, as they report, trembling at the rock which impends over his head, hangs in the air, and suffers this punishment, as they say indeed, because, although being a man, yet having the honor of a table in common with the Gods upon equal terms, he possessed an ungovernable tongue, a most disgraceful malady. He begat Pelops, and from him sprung Atreus, for whom the Goddess having carded the wool[1] spun the thread of contention, and doomed him to make war on Thyestes his relation; (why must I commemorate things unspeakable?) But Atreus then[2] killed his children—and feasted him. But from Atreus, for I pass over in silence the misfortunes which intervened, sprung Agamemnon, the illustrious, (if he was indeed illustrious,) and Menelaus; their mother Aërope of Crete. But Menelaus indeed marries Helen, the hated of the Gods, but King Agamemnon obtained Clytæmnestra's bed, memorable throughout the Grecians: from whom we virgins were born, three from one mother; Chrysothemis, and Iphigenia, and myself Electra; and Orestes the male part of the family, from a most unholy mother, who slew her husband, having covered him around with an inextricable robe; the reason however it is not decorous in a virgin to tell; I leave this undeclared for men to consider as they will. But why indeed must I accuse the injustice of Phœbus? Yet persuaded he Orestes to kill that mother that brought him forth, a deed which gained not a good report from all men. But nevertheless he did slay her, as he would not be disobedient to the God. I also took a share in the murder, but such as a woman ought to take. As did Pylades also who perpetrated this deed with us. From that time wasting away, the wretched Orestes is afflicted with a grievous malady, but falling on his couch there lies, but his mother's blood whirls him to frenzy (for I dread to mention those Goddesses, the Eumenides, who persecute him with terror). Moreover this is the sixth day since his slaughtered mother was purified by fire as to her body. During which he has neither taken any food down his throat, he has not bathed his limbs, but covered beneath his cloak, when indeed his body is lightened of its disease, on coming to his right mind he weeps, but at another time starts suddenly from his couch, as a colt from his yoke. But it has been decreed by this city of Argos, that no one shall receive us who have slain a mother under their roof, nor at their fire, and that none shall speak to us; but this is the appointed day, in the which the city of the Argives will pronounce their vote, whether it is fitting that we should die being stoned with stones, or having whet the sword, should plunge it into our necks. But I yet have some hope that we may not die, for Menelaus has arrived at this country from Troy, and filling the Nauplian harbor with his oars is mooring his fleet off the shore, having been lost in wanderings from Troy a long time: but the much-afflicted Helen has he sent before to our palace, having taken advantage of the night, lest any of those, whose children died under Ilium, when they saw her coming, by day, might go so far as to stone her; but she is within bewailing her sister, and the calamity of her family. She has however some consolation in her woes, for the virgin Hermione, whom Menelaus bringing from Sparta, left at our palace, when he sailed to Troy, and gave as a charge to my mother to bring up, in her she rejoices, and forgets her miseries. But I am looking at each avenue when I shall see Menelaus present, since, for the rest, we ride on slender power,[3] if we receive not some succor from him; the house of the unfortunate is an embarrassed state of affairs.
ELECTRA. HELEN.
HEL. O daughter of Clytæmnestra and Agamemnon, O Electra, thou that hast remained a virgin a long time. How are ye, O wretched woman, both you, and your brother, the wretched Orestes (he was the murderer of his mother)? For by thy converse I am not polluted, transferring, as I do, the blame to Phœbus. And yet I groan the death of Clytæmnestra, whom, after that I sailed to Troy, (how did I sail, urged by the maddening fate of the Gods!) I saw not, but of her bereft I lament my fortune.
ELEC. Helen, why should I inform thee of things thou seest thyself here present, the race of Agamemnon in calamities. I indeed sleepless sit companion to the wretched corse, (for he is a corse, in that he breathes so little,) but at his fortune I murmur not. But thou a happy woman, and thy husband a happy man, have come to us, who fare most wretchedly.
HEL. But what length of time has he been lying on his couch?
ELEC. Ever since he shed his parent's blood.
HEL. Oh wretched, and his mother too, that thus she perished!
ELEC. These things are thus, so that he is unable to speak for misery.
HEL. By the Gods wilt thou oblige me in a thing, O virgin?
ELEC. As far as I am permitted by the little leisure I have from watching by my brother.
HEL. Wilt thou go to the tomb of my sister?
ELEC. My mother's tomb dost thou desire? wherefore?
HEL. Bearing the first offerings of my hair, and my libations.
ELEC. But is it not lawful for thee to go to the tomb of thy friends?
HEL. No, for I am ashamed to show myself among the Argives.
ELEC. Late art thou discreet, then formerly leaving thine home disgracefully.
HEL. True hast thou spoken, but thou speakest not pleasantly to me.
ELEC. But what shame possesses thee among the Myceneans?
HEL. I fear the fathers of those who are dead under Ilium.
ELEC. For this is a dreadful thing; and at Argos thou art declaimed against by every one's mouth.
HEL. Do thou then grant me this favor, and free me from this fear.
ELEC. I can not look upon the tomb of my mother.
HEL. And yet it is disgraceful for servants to bear these.
ELEC. But why not send thy daughter Hermione?
HEL. It is not well for virgins to go among the crowd.
ELEC. And yet she might repay the dead the care of her education.
HEL. Right hast thou spoken, and I obey thee, O virgin, and I will send my daughter, for thou sayest well. Come forth, my child Hermione, before the house, and take these libations in thine hand, and my hair, and, going to the tomb of Clytæmnestra, leave there this mixture of milk and honey, and the froth of wine, and standing on the summit of the mound, say thus: "Helen, thy sister, presents thee with these libations, in fear herself to approach thy tomb, and afraid of the populace of Argos:" and bid her hold kind intentions toward me, and thyself, and my husband, and toward these two miserable persons whom the God has destroyed. But promise all the offerings to the manes, whatever it is fitting that I should perform for a sister. Go, my child, hasten, and when thou hast offered the libations at the tomb, remember to return back as speedily as possible.
ELEC. [alone] O Nature, what a great evil art thou among men, and the safeguard of those who possess thee, with virtue! For see, how she has shorn off the extremities of her hair, in order to preserve her beauty; but she is the same woman she always was. May the Gods detest thee, for that thou hast destroyed me, and this man, and the whole state of Greece: oh wretch that I am! But my dear friends that accompany me in my lamentations are again present; perhaps they will disturb the sleeper from his slumber, and will melt my eyes in tears when I behold my brother raving.
ELECTRA, CHORUS.
ELEC. O most dear woman, proceed with a gentle foot, make no noise, let there be heard no sound. For your friendliness is very kind, but to awake him will be a calamity to me. Hush, hush—gently advance the tread of thy sandal, make no noise, let there be heard no sound. Move onward from that place—onward from before the couch.
CHOR. Behold, I obey.
ELEC. St! st! Speak to me, my friend, as the breathing of the soft reed pipe.
CHOR. See, I utter a voice low as an under note.
ELEC. Ay, thus come hither, come hither, approach quietly—go quietly: tell me, for what purpose, I pray, are ye come? For he has fallen on his couch, and been sleeping some time.
CHOR. How is he? Give us an account of him, my friend.
ELEC. What fortune can I say of him? and what his calamities? still indeed he breathes, but sighs at short intervals.
CHOR. What sayest thou? Oh, the unhappy man!
ELEC. You will kill him if you move his eyelids, now that he is taking the sweetest enjoyment of sleep.
CHOR. Unfortunate on account of these most angry deeds from heaven! oh! wretched on account of thy sufferings!
ELEC. Alas! alas! Apollo himself unjust, then spoke unjust things, when at the tripod of Themis he commanded the unhallowed, inauspicious murder of my mother.
CHOR. Dost thou see? he moves his body in the robes that cover him.
ELEC. You by your cries, O wretch, have disturbed him from his sleep.
CHOR. I indeed think he is sleeping yet.
ELEC. Will you not depart from us? will you not bend your footsteps back from the house, ceasing this noise?
CHOR. He sleeps.
ELEC. Thou sayest well.
CHOR. Venerable, venerable Night, thou that dispensest sleep to languid mortals, come from Erebus; come, come, borne on thy wings to the house of Agamemnon; for by our griefs and by our sufferings we are quite undone, undone.
ELEC. Ye were making a noise.
CHOR. No. (Note [A].)
ELEC. Silently, silently repressing the high notes of your voice, apart from his couch, you will enable him to have the tranquil enjoyment of sleep.
CHOR. Tell us; what end to his miseries awaits him?
ELEC. Death, death; what else can? for he has no appetite for food.
CHOR. Death then is manifestly before him.
ELEC. Phœbus offered us as victims, when he commanded[4] the dreadful, abhorred murder of our mother, that slew our father.
CHOR. With justice indeed, but not well.
ELEC. Thou hast died, thou hast died, O mother, O thou that didst bring me forth, but hast killed the father, and the children of thy blood. We perish, we perish, even as two corses. For thou art among the dead, and the greatest part of my life is passed in groans, and wailings, and nightly tears; marriageless, childless, behold, how like a miserable wretch do I drag out my existence forever!
CHOR. O virgin Electra, approach near, and look that thy brother has not died unobserved by thee; for by this excessive quiet he doth not please me.
ORESTES, ELECTRA, CHORUS.
ORES. O precious balm of sleep, thou that relievest my malady, how pleasant didst thou come to me in the time of need! O divine oblivion of my sufferings, how wise thou art, and the goddess to be supplicated by all in distress!—whence, in heaven's name, came I hither? and how brought? for I remember not things past, bereaved, as I am, of my senses.
ELEC. My dearest brother, how didst thou delight me when thou didst fall asleep! wilt thou I touch thee, and raise thy body up?
ORES. Raise me then, raise me, and wipe the clotted foam from off my wretched mouth, and from my eyes.
ELEC. Behold, the task is sweet, and I refuse not to administer to a brother's limbs with a sister's hand.
ORES. Lay thy side by my side, and remove the squalid hair from my face, for I see but imperfectly with my eyes.
ELEC. O wretched head, sordid with ringlets, how art thou disordered from long want of the bath!
ORES. Lay me on the couch again; when my fit of madness gives me a respite, I am feeble and weak in my limbs.
ELEC. Behold, the couch is pleasant to the sick man, an irksome thing to keep, but still a necessary one.
ORES. Again raise me upright—turn my body.
CHOR. Sick persons are hard to be pleased from their feebleness.
ELEC. Wilt thou set thy feet on the ground, putting forward thy long-discontinued[5] step? In all things change is sweet.
ORES. Yes, by all means; for this has a semblance of health, but the semblance is good, though it be distant from the truth.
ELEC. Hear now therefore, O my brother, while yet the Furies suffer thee to have thy right faculties.
ORES. Wilt thou tell any news? and if good indeed, thou art conferring pleasure; but if it pertain at all to mischief—I have enough distress.
ELEC. Menelaus has arrived, the brother of thy father, but his ships are moored in the Nauplian bay.
ORES. How sayest? Is he come, a light in mine and thy sufferings, a man of kindred blood, and that hath received benefits from our father?
ELEC. He is come; take this a sure proof of my words, bringing with him Helen from the walls of Troy.
ORES. Had he been saved alone, he had been more blest. But if he brings his wife, he has arrived with a mighty evil.
ELEC. Tyndarus begat an offspring of daughters, a conspicuous mark for blame, and infamous throughout Greece.
ORES. Do thou then be unlike the bad, for it is in thy power. And not only say, but also hold these sentiments.
ELEC. Alas! my brother, thine eye rolls wildly; quick art thou changed to madness, so late in thy senses.
ORES. O mother, I implore thee, urge not on me those Furies gazing blood, horrid with snakes, for these, these are leaping around me.
ELEC. Remain, O wretched man, calmly on thy couch, for thou seest none of those things, which thou fanciest thou seest plainly.
ORES. O Phœbus, these dire Goddesses in the shape of dogs will kill me, these gorgon-visaged ministers of hell.
ELEC. I will not let thee go, but, putting my arm around thee, will stop thy starting into those unfortunate convulsions.
ORES. Loose me. Thou art one of my Furies, and seizest me by the middle, that thou mayest hurl me into Tartarus.
ELEC. Oh! wretched me! what assistance can I obtain, since we have on us the vengeful wrath of heaven!
ORES. Give me my bow of horn, the gift of Phœbus, with which Apollo said I should repel the Fiends, if they appalled me by their maddened raging.
ELEC. Shall any God be wounded by mortal hand? (Note [B].)
ORES. Yes. She shall, if she will not depart from my sight... Hear ye not—see ye not the winged shafts impelled from the distant-wounding bow? Ha! ha! Why tarry ye yet? Skim the high air with your wings, and impeach the oracles of Phœbus.—Ah! why am I thus disquieted, heaving my panting breath from my lungs? Whither, whither have I wandered from my couch? For from the waves again I see a calm.—Sister, why weepest, hiding thine eyes beneath thy vests, I am ashamed to have thee a partner in my sufferings, and to give a virgin trouble through my malady. Pine not away on account of my miseries: for thou indeed didst assent to this, but the shedding of my mother's blood was accomplished by me: but I blame Apollo, who, after having instigated me to a most unholy act, with words indeed consoled me, but not with deeds. But I think that my father, had I, beholding him, asked him if it were right for me to slay my mother, would have put forth many supplications, beseeching me by this beard not to impel my sword to the slaughter of her who bore me, if neither he thereby could be restored to life, and I thus wretched must go through such miseries. And now then unveil thyself, my sister, and cease from tears, even though we be very miserable: but when thou seest me desponding, do thou restrain my distraction, and that which preys upon my mind, and console me; but when thou groanest, it becomes my duty to come to thee, and suggest words of comfort. For these are the good offices friends ought to render each other. But go thou into the house, O unfortunate sister, and, stretched at full length, compose thy sleepless eyelids to sleep, and take refreshment, and pour the bath upon thy fair skin. For if thou forsakest me, or gettest any illness by continually sitting by me, we perish; for thee I have my only succor, by the rest, as thou seest, abandoned.
ELEC. This can not be: with thee will I choose to die, with thee to live; for it is the same: for if then shouldst die, what can I do, a woman? how shall I be preserved, alone and destitute? without a brother, without a father, without a friend: but if it seemeth good to thee, these things it is my duty to do: but recline thy body on the bed, and do not to such a degree conceive to be real whatever frightens and startles thee from the couch, but keep quiet on the bed strewn for thee. For though thou be not ill, but only seem to be ill, still this even is an evil and a distress to mortals. (Note [C].)
CHORUS. Alas! alas! O swift-winged, raving[6] Goddesses, who keep up the dance, not that of Bacchus, with tears and groans. You, dark Eumenides, you, that fly through the wide extended air, executing vengeance, executing slaughter, you do I supplicate, I supplicate: suffer the offspring of Agamemnon to forget his furious madness; alas! for his sufferings. What were they that eagerly grasping at, thou unhappy perishest, having received from the tripod the oracle which Phœbus spake, on that pavement, where are said to be the recesses in the midst of the globe! O Jupiter, what pity is there? what is this contention of slaughter that comes persecuting thee wretched, to whom some evil genius casts tear upon tear, transporting to thy house the blood of thy mother which drives thee frenzied! Thus I bewail, I bewail. Great prosperity is not lasting among mortals; but, as the sail of the swift bark, some deity having shaken him, hath sunk him in the voracious and destructive waves of tremendous evils, as in the waves of the ocean. For what other[6a] family ought I to reverence yet before that sprung from divine nuptials, sprung from Tantalus?—But lo! the king! the prince Menelaus, is coming! but he is very easily discernible from the elegance of his person, as king of the house of the Tantalidæ.
O thou that didst direct the army of a thousand vessels to Asia's land, hail! but thou comest hither with good fortune, having obtained the object of thy wishes from the Gods.
MENELAUS, ORESTES, CHORUS.
MEN. O palace, in some respect indeed I behold thee with pleasure, coming from Troy, but in other respect I groan when I see thee. For never yet saw I any other house more completely encircled round with lamentable woes. For I was made acquainted with the misfortune that befell Agamemnon, [and his death, by what death he perished at the hands of his wife,][6b] when I was landing my ships at Malea; but from the waves the prophet of the mariners declared unto me, the foreboding Glaucus the son of Nereus, an unerring God, who told me thus in evident form standing by me. "Menelaus, thy brother lieth dead, having fallen in his last bath, which his wife prepared." But he filled both me and my sailors with many tears; but when I come to the Nauplian shore, my wife having already landed there, expecting to clasp in my friendly embraces Orestes the son of Agamemnon, and his mother, as being in prosperity, I heard from some fisherman[7] the unhallowed murder of the daughter of Tyndarus. And now tell me, maidens, where is the son of Agamemnon, who dared these terrible deeds of evil? for he was an infant in Clytæmnestra's arms at that time when I left the palace on my way to Troy, so that I should not know him, were I to see him.
ORES. I, Menelaus, am Orestes, whom thou seekest, I of my own accord will declare my evils. But first I touch thy knees in supplication, putting up prayers from my mouth, not using the sacred branch:[8] save me. But thou art come in the very season of my sufferings.
MEN. O ye Gods, what do I behold! whom of the dead do I see!
ORES. Ay! well thou sayest the dead; for in my state of suffering I live not; but see the light.
MEN. Thou wretched man, how disordered thou art in thy squalid hair!
ORES. Not the appearance, but the deeds torment me.
MEN. But thou glarest dreadfully with thy shriveled eyeballs.
ORES. My body is vanished, but my name has not left me.
MEN. Alas, thy uncomeliness of form which has appeared to me beyond conception!
ORES. I am he, the murderer of my wretched mother.
MEN. I have heard; but spare a little the recital of thy woes.
ORES. I spare it; but in woes the deity is rich to me.
MEN. What dost thou suffer? What malady destroys thee?
ORES. The conviction that I am conscious of having perpetrated dreadful deeds.
MEN. How sayest thou? Plainness, and not obscurity, is wisdom.
ORES. Sorrow is chiefly what destroys me,—
MEN. She is a dreadful goddess, but sorrow admits of cure.
ORES. And fits of madness in revenge for my mother's blood.
MEN. But when didst first have the raging? what day was it then?
ORES. That day in which I heaped the tomb on my mother.
MEN. What? in the house, or sitting at the pyre?
ORES. As I was guarding by night lest any one should bear off her bones.[9]
MEN. Was any one else present, who supported thy body?
ORES. Pylades, who perpetrated with me the vengeance and death of my mother.
MEN. But by what visions art thou thus afflicted?
ORES. I appear to behold three virgins like the night.
MEN. I know whom thou meanest, but am unwilling to name them.
ORES. Yes: for they are awful; but forbear from speaking such high polished words.[10]
MEN. Do these drive thee to distraction on account of this kindred murder?
ORES. Alas me for the persecutions, with which wretched I am driven!
MEN. It is not strange that those who do strange deeds should suffer them.
ORES. But we have whereto we may transfer the criminality[11] of the mischance.
MEN. Say not the death of thy father; for this is not wise.
ORES. Phœbus who commanded us to perpetrate the slaying of our mother.
MEN. Being more ignorant than to know equity, and justice.
ORES. We are servants of the Gods, whatever those Gods be.
MEN. And then does not Apollo assist thee in thy miseries?
ORES. He is always about to do it, but such are the Gods by nature.
MEN. But how long a time has thy mother's breath gone from her?
ORES. This is the sixth day since; the funeral pyre is yet warm.
MEN. How quickly have the Goddesses come to demand of thee thy mother's blood!
ORES. I am not wise, but a true friend to my friends.
MEN. But what then doth the revenge of thy father profit thee?
ORES. Nothing yet; but I consider what is in prospect in the same light as a thing not done.
MEN. But regarding the city how standest thou, having done these things?
ORES. We are hated to that degree, that no one speaks to us.
MEN. Nor hast thou washed thy blood from thy hands according to the laws?
ORES. How can I? for I am shut out from the houses, whithersoever I go.
MEN. Who of the citizens thus contend to drive thee from the land?
ORES. Œax,[12] imputing to my father the hatred which arose on account of Troy.
MEN. I understand. The death of Palamede takes its vengeance on thee.
ORES. In which at least I had no share—but I perish by the three.
MEN. But who else? Is it perchance one of the friends of Ægisthus?
ORES. They persecute me, whom now the city obeys.
MEN. But does the city suffer thee to wield Agamemnon's sceptre?
ORES. How should they? who no longer suffer us to live.
MEN. Doing what, which thou canst tell me as a clear fact?
ORES. This very day sentence will be passed upon us.
MEN. To be exiled from this city? or to die? or not to die?
ORES. To die, by being stoned with stones by the citizens.
MEN. And dost thou not fly then, escaping beyond the boundaries of the country?
ORES. How can we? for we are surrounded on every side by brazen arms.
MEN. By private enemies, or by the hand of Argos?
ORES. By all the citizens, that I may die—the word is brief.
MEN. O unhappy man! thou art come to the extreme of misfortune.
ORES. On thee my hope builds her escape from evils, but, thyself happy, coming among the distressed, impart thy good fortune to thy friends, and be not the only man to retain a benefit thou hast received, but undertake also services in thy turn, paying their father's kindness to those to whom thou oughtest. For those friends have the name, not the reality, who are not friends in adversity.
CHOR. And see the Spartan Tyndarus is toiling hither with his aged foot, in a black vest, and shorn, his locks cut off in mourning for his daughter.
ORES. I am undone, O Menelaus! Lo! Tyndarus is coming toward us, to come before whose presence, most of all men's, shame covereth me, on account of what has been done. For he used to nurture me when I was little, and satiated me with many kisses, dandling in his arms Agamemnon's boy, and Leda with him, honoring me no less than the twin-born of Jove. For which, O my wretched heart and soul, I have given no good return: what dark veil can I take for my countenance? what cloud can I place before me, that I may avoid the glances of the old man's eyes?
TYNDARUS, MENELAUS, ORESTES, CHORUS.
TYND. Where, where can I see my daughter's husband Menelaus? For as I was pouring my libations on the tomb of Clytæmnestra, I heard that he was come to Nauplia with his wife, safe through a length of years. Conduct me, for I long to stand by his hand and salute him, seeing my friend after a long lapse of time.
MEN. O hail! old man, who sharest thy bed with Jove.
TYND. O hail! thou also, Menelaus my dear relation,—ah! what an evil is it not to know the future! This dragon here, the murderer of his mother, glares before the house his pestilential gleams—the object of my detestation—Menelaus, dost thou speak to this unholy wretch?
MEN. Why not? he is the son of a father who was dear to me.
TYND. What! was he sprung from him, being such as he is?
MEN. He was; but, though he be unfortunate, he should be respected.
TYND. Having been a long time with barbarians, thou art thyself turned barbarian.
MEN. Nay! it is the Grecian fashion always to honor one of kindred blood.
TYND. Yes, and also not to wish to be above the laws.
MEN. Every thing proceeding from necessity is considered as subservient to her[13] among the wise.
TYND. Do thou then keep to this, but I'll have none of it.
MEN. No, for anger joined with thine age, is not wisdom.
TYND. With this man what controversy can there be regarding wisdom? If what things are virtuous, and what are not virtuous, are plain to all, what man was ever more unwise that this man? who did not indeed consider justice, nor applied to the common existing law of the Grecians. For after that Agamemnon breathed forth his last, struck by my daughter on the head, a most foul deed (for never will I approve of this), it behooved him indeed to lay against her a sacred charge of bloodshed, following up the accusation, and to cast his mother from out of the house; and he would have taken the wise side in the calamity, and would have kept to law, and would have been pious. But now has he come to the same fate with his mother. For with justice thinking her wicked, himself has become more wicked in slaying his mother.
But thus much, Menelaus, will I ask thee; If the wife that shared his bed were to kill him, and his son again kills his mother in return, and he that is born of him shall expiate the murder with murder, whither then will the extremes of these evils proceed? Well did our fathers of old lay down these things; they suffered not him to come into the sight of their eyes, not to their converse, who was under an attainder[14] of blood; but they made him atone by banishment; they suffered however none to kill him in return. For always were one about to be attainted of murder, taking the pollution last into his hands. But I hate indeed impious women, but first among them my daughter, who slew her husband. But never will I approve of Helen thy wife, nor would I speak to her, neither do I commend[15] thee for going to the plain of Troy on account of a perfidious woman. But I will defend the law, as far at least as I am able, putting a stop to this brutish and murderous practice, which is ever destructive both of the country and the state.—For what feelings of humanity hadst thou, thou wretched man, when she bared her breast in supplication, thy mother? I indeed, though I witnessed not that scene of misery, melt in my aged eyes with tears through wretchedness. One thing however goes to the scale of my arguments; thou art both hated by the Gods, and sufferest vengeance of thy mother, wandering about with madness and terrors; why must I hear by the testimony of others, what it is in my power to see? That thou mayest know then once for all, Menelaus, do not things contrary to the Gods, through thy wishes to assist this man. But suffer him to be slain by the citizens with stones, or set not thy foot on Spartan ground. But my daughter in dying met with justice, but it was not fitting that she should die by him.[16] In other respects indeed have I been a happy man, except in my daughters, but in this I am not happy.
CHOR. He is enviable, who is fortunate in his children, and has not on him some notorious calamities.
ORES. O old man, I tremble to speak to thee, wherein I am about to grieve thee and thy mind. But I am unholy in that I slew my mother; but holy at least in another point of view, having avenged my father. Let then thine age, which hinders me through fear from speaking, be removed out of the way of my words, and I will go on in a direct path; but now do I fear thy gray hairs. What could I do? for oppose the facts, two against two. My father indeed begat me, but thy daughter brought me forth, a field receiving the seed from another; but without a father there never could be a child. I reasoned therefore with myself, that I should assist the prime author of my birth rather than the aliment which under him produced me. But thy daughter (I am ashamed to call her mother), in secret and unchaste nuptials, had approached the bed of another man; of myself, if I speak ill of her, shall I be speaking, but yet will I tell it. Ægisthus was her secret husband in her palace. Him I slew, and after him I sacrificed my mother, doing indeed unholy things, but avenging my father. But as touching those things for which thou threatenest that I must be stoned, hear, how I shall assist all Greece. For if the women shall arrive at such a pitch of boldness as to murder the men, making good their escape with regard to their children, seeking to captivate their pity by their breasts, it would be as nothing with them to slay their husbands, having any pretext that might chance; but I having done dreadful things (as thou sayest), have put a stop to this law, but hating my mother deservedly I slew her, who betrayed her husband absent from home in arms, the generalissimo of the whole land of Greece, and kept not her bed undefiled. But when she perceived that she had done amiss, she inflicted not vengeance on herself, but, that she might not suffer vengeance from her husband, punished and slew my father. By the Gods, (in no good cause have I named the Gods, pleading against a charge of murder,) had I by my silence praised my mother's actions, what then would the deceased have done to me? To my mother indeed the Furies are present as allies, but would they not be present to him, who has received the greater injury? Would he not, detesting me, have haunted me with the Furies? Thou then, O old man, by begetting a bad daughter, hast destroyed me; for through her boldness deprived of my father, I became a matricide. Dost see? Telemachus slew not the wife of Ulysses, for she married not a husband on a husband, but her marriage-bed remains unpolluted in the palace. Dost see? Apollo, who, dwelling in his habitation in the midst of the earth, gives the most clear oracles to mortals, by whom we are entirely guided, whatever he may say, on him relying slew I my mother. 'Twas he who erred, not I: what could I do? Is not the God sufficient for me, who transfer the deed to him, to do away with the pollution? Whither then can any fly for succor, unless he that commanded me shall deliver me from death? But say not these things have been done "not well;" but say "not fortunately" for us who did them. But to whatsoever men their marriages are well established, there is a happy life, but to those to whom they fall not out well, with regard to their affairs both at home and abroad they are unfortunate.
CHOR. Women were born always to be in the way of what may happen to men, to the making of things unfortunate.
TYND. Since thou art bold, and yieldest not to my speech, but thus answerest me so as to grieve my mind, thou wilt rather inflame me to urge thy death. But this I shall consider a handsome addition to those labors for which I came, namely, to deck my daughter's tomb. For going to the multitude of the Argives assembled, I will rouse the state willing and not unwilling, to pass the sentence[16a] of being stoned on thee and on thy sister; but she is worthy of death rather than thee, who irritated thee against her mother, always pealing in thine ear words to increase thy hatred, relating dreams she had of Agamemnon, and this also, that the infernal Gods detested the bed of Ægisthus; for even here on earth it were hard to be endured; until she set the house in flames with fire more strong than Vulcan's.—Menelaus, but to thee I speak this, and will moreover perform it. If thou regard my hate, and my alliance, ward not off death from this man in opposition to the Gods; but suffer him to be slain by the citizens with stones, or set not thy foot on Spartan ground. Thus much having heard, depart, nor choose the impious for thy friends, passing over the pious.—But O attendants, conduct us from this house.
ORES. Depart, that the remainder of my speech may reach this man uninterrupted by the clamors of thy age: Menelaus, whither dost thou roam in thought, entering on a double path of double care?
MEN. Suffer me; having some thoughts with myself, I am perplexed to which side of fortune to turn me.
ORES. Do not make up thy opinion, but having first heard my words, then deliberate.
MEN. Say on; for thou hast spoken rightly; but there are seasons where silence may be better than talking, and there are seasons where talking may be better than silence.
ORES. I will speak then forthwith: Long speeches have the preference before short ones, and are more plain to hear. Give thou to me nothing of what thou hast, O Menelaus, but what thou hast received from my father, return; I mean not riches—yet riches, which are the most dear of what I possess, if thou wilt preserve my life. Say I am unjust, I ought to receive from thee, instead of this evil, something contrary to what justice demands; for Agamemnon my father having collected Greece in arms, in a way justice did not demand, went to Troy, not having erred himself, but in order to set right the error, and injustice of thy wife. This one thing indeed thou oughtest to give me for one thing, but he, as friends should for friends, of a truth exposed his person for thee toiling at the shield, that thou mightest receive back thy wife. Repay me then this kindness for that which thou receivedst there, toiling for one day in standing as my succor, not completing ten years. But the sacrifice of my sister, which Aulis received, this I suffer thee to have; do not kill Hermione, I ask it not. For, I being in the state in which I now am, thou must of necessity have the advantage, and I must suffer it to be so. But grant my life to my wretched father, and my sister's, who has been a virgin a long time. For dying I shall leave my father's house destitute. Thou wilt say "impossible:" this is the very thing I have been urging, it behooves friends to help their friends in misfortunes. But when the God gives prosperity, what need is there of friends? For the God himself sufficeth, being willing to assist. Thou appearest to all the Greeks to be fond of thy wife; (and this I say, not stealing under thee imperceptibly with flattery;) by her I implore thee; O wretched me for my woes, to what have I come? but why must I suffer thus? For in behalf of the whole house I make this supplication. O divine brother of my father, conceive that the dead man beneath the earth hears these things, and that his spirit is hovering over thee, and speaks what I speak. These things have I said, with tears, and groans, and miseries,[17] and have prayed earnestly, looking for preservation, which all, and not I only, seek.
CHOR. I too implore thee, although a woman, yet still I implore thee to succor those in need, but thou art able.
MEN. Orestes, I indeed reverence thy person, and I am willing to labor with thee in thy misfortunes. For thus it is right to endure together the misfortunes of one's relations, if the God gives the ability, even so far as to die, and to kill the adversary; but this ability again I want from the Gods. For I am come having my single spear unaided by allies, having wandered with infinite labors with small assistance of friends left me. In battle therefore we can not come off superior to Pelasgian Argos; but if we can by soft speeches, to that hope are we equal. For how can any one achieve great actions with small means? For when the rabble is in full force falling into a rage, it is equally difficult to extinguish as a fierce fire. But if one quietly yields to it as it is spreading, and gives in to it, watching well his opportunity, perhaps it may spend its rage, but when it has remitted from its blast, you may without difficulty have it your own way, as much as you please. For there is inherent in them pity, but there is inherent also vehement passion, to one who carefully watches his opportunity a most excellent advantage. But I will go and endeavor to persuade Tyndarus, and the city, to use their great power in a becoming manner. For a ship, the main sheet stretched out to a violent degree, is wont to pitch, but stands upright again, if you slacken the main sheet. For the God hates too great vehemence, and the citizens hate it; but I must (I speak as I mean) save thee by wisdom, not by opposing my superiors. But I can not by force, as perchance thou thinkest, preserve thee; for it is no easy matter to erect from one single spear trophies from the evils, which are about thee. For never have we approached the land of Argos by way of supplication; but now there is necessity for the wise to become the slaves of fortune.
ORESTES, CHORUS.
ORES. O thou, a mere cipher in other things except in warring for the sake of a woman; O thou most base in avenging thy friends, dost thou fly, turning away from me? But all Agamemnon's services are gone: thou wert then without friends, O my father, in thy affliction. Alas me! I am betrayed, and there no longer are any hopes, whither turning I may escape death from the Argives. For he was the refuge of my safety. But I see this most dear of men, Pylades, coming with hasty step from the Phocians, a pleasing sight, a man faithful in adversity, more grateful to behold than the calm to the mariners.
PYLADES, ORESTES, CHORUS.
PYL. I came through the city with a quicker step than I ought, having heard of the council of state assembled, and seeing it plainly myself, against thee and thy sister, as about to kill you instantly.—What is this? how art thou? in what state, O most dear to me of my companions and kindred? for all these things art thou to me.
ORES. We are gone—briefly to show thee my calamities.
PYL. Thou wilt have ruined me too; for the things of friends are common.
ORES. Menelaus has behaved most basely toward me and my sister.
PYL. It is to be expected that the husband of a bad wife be bad.
ORES. He is come, and has done just as much for me as if he had not come.
PYL. What! is he in truth come to this land?
ORES. After a long season; but nevertheless he was very soon discovered to be too base to his friends.
PYL. And has he brought in his ship with him his most infamous wife?
ORES. Not he her, but she brought him hither.
PYL. Where is she, who, beyond any woman,[18] destroyed most of the Grecians?
ORES. In my palace, if I may indeed be allowed to call this mine.
PYL. But what words didst thou say to thy father's brother?
ORES. I requested him not to suffer me and my sister to be slain by the citizens.
PYL. By the Gods, what said he to this request; this I wish to know.
ORES. He declined, from motives of prudence, as bad friends act toward their friends.
PYL. Going on what ground of excuse? This having learned, I am in possession of every thing.
ORES. The father himself came, he that begat such excellent daughters.
PYL. Tyndarus you mean; perhaps enraged with thee on account of his daughter.
ORES. You are right: be paid more attention to his ties with him, than to his ties with my father.
PYL. And dared he not, being present, to take arms against thy troubles?
ORES. No: for he was not born a warrior, but brave among women.
PYL. Thou art then in the greatest miseries, and it is necessary for thee to die.
ORES. The citizens must pass their vote on us for the murder we have committed.[19]
PYL. Which vote what will it decide? tell me, for I am in fear.
ORES. Either to die or live; not many words on matters of great import.
PYL. Come fly, and quit the palace with thy sister.
ORES. Seest thou not? we are watched by guards on every side,
PYL. I saw the streets of the city lined with arms.
ORES. We are invested as to our persons, as a city by the enemy.
PYL. Now ask me also, what I suffer; for I too am undone.
ORES. By whom? This would be an evil added to my evils.
PYL. Strophius, my father, being enraged, hath driven me an exile from his house.
ORES. Bringing against thee some private charge, or one in common with the citizens?
PYL. Because I perpetrated with thee the murder of thy mother, he banished me, calling me unholy.
ORES. O thou unfortunate! it seems that thou also sufferest for my evils.
PYL. We have not Menelaus's manners—this must be borne.
ORES. Dost thou not fear lest Argos should wish to kill thee, as it does also me?
PYL. We do not belong to these to punish, but to the land of the Phocians.
ORES. The populace is a terrible thing, when they have evil leaders.
PYL. But when they have good ones, they always deliberate good things.
ORES. Be it so: we must speak on our common business.
PYL. On what affair of necessity?
ORES. Supposing I should go to the citizens, and say—
PYL. —that thou hast acted justly?
ORES. Ay, avenging my father:
PYL. I fear they might not receive thee gladly.
ORES. But shall I die then shuddering in silence!
PYL. This were cowardly.
ORES. How then can I do?
PYL. Hast thou any chance of safety, if thou remainest?
ORES. I have none.
PYL. But going, is there any hope of thy being preserved from thy miseries?
ORES. Should it chance well, there might be.
PYL. Is not this then better than remaining?
ORES. Shall I go then?
PYL. Dying thus, at least thou wilt die more honorably.
ORES. And I have a just cause.
PYL. Only pray for its appearing so.
ORES. Thou sayest well: this way I avoid the imputation of cowardice.
PYL. More than by tarrying here.
ORES. And some one perchance may pity me—
PYL. Yes; for thy nobleness of birth is a great thing.
ORES. —indignant at my father's death.
PYL. All this in prospect.
ORES. Go I must, for it is not manly to die ingloriously.
PYL. These sentiments I praise.
ORES. Shall we then tell these things to my sister?
PYL. No, by the Gods.
ORES. Why, there might be tears.
PYL. This then is a great omen.
ORES. Clearly it is better to be silent.
PYL. Thou art a gainer by delay.
ORES. This one thing only opposes me.
PYL. What new thing again is this thou sayest?
ORES. I fear lest the goddesses should stop me with their torments.
PYL. But I will take care of thee.
ORES. It is a difficult and dangerous task to touch a man thus disordered.
PYL. Not for me to touch thee.
ORES. Take care how thou art partner of my madness.
PYL. Let not this be thought of.
ORES. Wilt thou not then be timid to assist me?
PYL. No, for timidity is a great evil to friends.
ORES. Go on now, the helm of my foot.
PYL. Having a charge worthy of a friend.
ORES. And guide me to my father's tomb.
PYL. To what end is this?
ORES. That I may supplicate him to save me.
PYL. This at least is just.
ORES. But let me not see my mother's monument.
PYL. For she was an enemy. But hasten, that the decree of the Argives condemn thee not before thou goest; leaning thy side, weary with disease, on mine: since I will conduct thee through the city, little caring for the multitude, nothing ashamed; for where shall I show myself thy friend, if I assist thee not when them art in perilous condition?
ORES. This it is to have companions, not relationship alone; so that a man who is congenial in manners, though a stranger in blood, is a better friend for a man to have, than ten thousand relatives.