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 A L C E S T I S 
 
 AND OTHER PLAYS 
 
 BY 
 
 EURIPIDES 
 
 TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH VERSE BY 
 
 ROBERT POTTER 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY HENRY MORLEY 
 
 LL.D., PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH LITERATURE AT 
 UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, LONDON 
 
 LONDON 
 GEORGE ROUTLEDG AND SONS 
 
 BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL 
 
 GLASGOW AND NEW YORK 
 
 1887
 
 MORLEY'S UNIVERSAL LIBRARY. 
 
 1. Sheridan's Plays. 
 
 2. Plays from Mo litre. By 
 
 English Dramatists. 
 
 3. Marlowe's Faustus and 
 
 Goethe's Faust. 
 
 4. Chronicle of the Cid. 
 
 5. Rabelais' Gargantua and the 
 
 Heroic Deeds of Pantagrvel. 
 
 6. Machiavelli' s Prince. 
 
 7. Bacon's Essays. 
 
 8. Defoe's Journal of the 
 
 Plague Year. 
 
 9. Locke on Civil Government 
 
 and Filmer's "Patriarcha." 
 
 10. Butler's Analogy of Religion. 
 
 11. Dryden's Virgil. 
 
 12. Scott's Demonology and 
 
 Witchcraft. 
 
 13. HerricKs Hesperides. 
 
 14. Coleridge's Table- Talk. 
 15- Boccaccio's Decameron. 
 
 1 6. Sterne's Tristram Shandy. 
 \ 7. Chapman's Hymer's Iliad. 
 
 1 8. Medun'al Tales. 
 
 19. Voltaire's Candide, and 
 
 Johnson's Rasselas. 
 
 20. J onsen's Plays and Poems. 
 
 21. Hobbes's Leviathan. 
 
 22. Samuel Butler's Hudibras. 
 
 23. Ideal Commonwealths. 
 
 24. Cavendish's Life of Wolsey. 
 25 & 26. Ztow Quixote. 
 
 27 . Burlesque Plays and Poems. 
 
 28. Dante's Divine Comedy. 
 
 LONGFELLOW'S Translation. 
 
 29. Goldsmith's Vicar of Wake- 
 
 field, Plays, and Poems. 
 
 30. 
 
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 43. 
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 49. 
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 54. 
 
 Fables and Proverbs from 
 
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 The History of Thomas 
 
 Ellwood. 
 
 Emerson's Essays, &c. 
 Southey's Life of Nelson. 
 De Quincey's Confessions 
 
 of an Opium-Eater, &*c. 
 Stories of Ireland. By Miss 
 
 EDGKWORTH. 
 Frere's Aristophanes: 
 
 Acharnians, Knights, Birds. 
 Burke' s Speeches and Letters. 
 
 7*Aomas cl Kempis. 
 Popular Songs of Ireland. 
 Potter's dZschylus. 
 Goethe's Faust: Part 
 ANSTER'S Translation. 
 Famous Pamphlets. 
 Francklin's Sophocles. 
 
 II.. 
 
 Terror and Wonder. 
 Vestiges of the Natural 
 
 History oj Creation. 
 Drayton's Barons' Wars, 
 
 Nymphidia, &c. 
 Cobbetfs Advice to Young 
 
 Men. 
 
 The Banquet of Dante. 
 Walker's Original. 
 Schiller's Poems and 
 
 Ballads. 
 
 Peele's Plays and Poems. 
 Harrington's Oceana. 
 Euripides : Alcestis and 
 
 other Plays. 
 
 ' Marve's of dear type and general neatness." Daily Telegraph.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 EURIPIDES is said to have been born on the day of the 
 battle of Salamis, in the year 480 before Christ. His 
 parents, Mnesarchus and Cleito, in dread of the invasion 
 of Xerxes, fled from Athens to the island of Salamis, and 
 on the memorable day of the great victory, Euripides was 
 bom there. 
 
 The three Greek Tragedians, in the order of their 
 seniority, were all associated by tradition with the battle 
 of Salamis: .^Eschylus, a man, fought in it; Sophocles, a 
 boy of fifteen, sang at the festival in celebration of it ; 
 Euripides was born on the day of it. The living fact 
 is that they were all born in the time of a great struggle 
 that brought out the energies of men. Greece was 
 threatened by an overwhelming force. Men fought with 
 all their souls for what was most worth caring about in 
 life; and it is when men are so stirred to the quick that 
 their manhood speaks most worthily, and Literature is 
 at its best.
 
 An oracle is said to have promised that Euripides 
 should be crowned with sacred garlands. He was 
 taught rhetoric by Prodicus, and so well trained in 
 gymnastics that he won prizes, as a boy, at public 
 games. He studied also philosophy and literature, 
 worked at physics under Anaxagoras, and acquired 
 technical skill as a painter. He collected books, and he 
 had Socrates among his friends. Socrates, it is said, 
 only went to the theatre when plays of Euripides were 
 acted. He wrote a tragedy at the age of eighteen, 
 but no play was acted in his name until his age 
 was about twenty-five. The play then acted " The 
 Peliades" is among those which are lost. In the year 441, 
 at the age of about thirty-nine, Euripides for the first time 
 gained the first prize as a dramatist. At forty, therefore, his 
 work in life was determined, and he had won his position. 
 That was sixteen years after the death of ^schylus. It 
 was about the same time probably that Euripides married 
 Choerilla, daughter of Mnesilochus, by whom he had three 
 -sons ; and he left Athens not long afterwards to visit the 
 Court of Archelaus, King of Macedonia. He died in the 
 year before Christ, 406, aged about seventy-four, torn in 
 pieces, it is said, by the king's dogs. 
 
 Euripides, after his first winning of the prize, continued 
 to write plays for more than thirty years. He is reported 
 to have written seventy-five tragedies, of which only 
 five obtained the prize ; he is reported also to have written
 
 INTRODUCTION. ^ 
 
 ninety- two tragedies, of which fifteen were successful. 
 There remain to us eighteen. 
 
 In these plays there is a philosophic spirit showing life in 
 action, with keen human sympathies. Euripides was once 
 accused of impiety in a court of justice, and his faith in the 
 gods of Greece had doubts and reservations that a hostile 
 critic could detect. He realized to his own mind the 
 legendary characters, and painted them as human beings 
 really are. As Aristotle said, Sophocles painted men as 
 they ought to be ; Euripides painted them as they are. 
 
 Of the plays given in this volume, " Alcestis " was pro- 
 duced in the year 438 B.C. and is the earliest of those 
 which remain to us. It is based on the old Greek myth 
 that set forth the true beauty of marriage, and caused our 
 Chaucer to make Admetus and Alcestis, under Venus, king 
 and queen of love. " Electra " was written probably almost 
 twenty-five years later, and " Orestes " was produced in 
 the year 408, thirty years after "Alcestis," and only two 
 years before the poet's death. The " Trojan Dames " had 
 been produced seven years earlier. 
 
 " Iphigenia in Aulis " was one of three plays brought out 
 at the great Dionysia by the youngest son of Euripides 
 after his father's death. The date of the " Iphigenia in 
 Tauris " cannot be determined. 
 
 Fables about Euripides abound. He is said to have 
 written his plays in a cavern. He is said to have had 
 two wives who were both false to him, statements against
 
 8 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 which there is a good deal of evidence, and for which 
 there is none. The dogs who tore him to death are said 
 to have been women ; and their reason for picking him to 
 pieces in that very decisive manner, was that he was 
 going to an assignation (aged seventy-five). In the year 
 414, eight years before his death, he was bitterly attacked 
 by Aristophanes in the " Thesmophoriazusse," and the ab- 
 sence from the attack of any reference to the two bad wives 
 is decisive against the fable. He was married to Chcerilla 
 at least thirty years. Fables abound among the chatter of 
 the world, and when the question is of a poet who was 
 alive two thousand two hundred and fifty years ago, they 
 are apt to be a little untrustworthy. They are not always 
 exactly fitted to the facts when they concern one of us who 
 are now living. On the whole, he is near truth who will 
 think or speak no evil of any one except on evidence 
 that would convince a jury. 
 
 H. M. 
 September 1887.
 
 EURIPIDES. 
 
 ALCESTIS. 
 
 ADMETUS and Alcestis were nearly related before their 
 marriage. ALolus, the third in descent from Prometheus, was 
 the father of Cretheus and Salmoneus ; .XEson the father of 
 Jason, and Pheres the father of Admetus, were sons of Cretheus ; 
 Tyro, the daughter of Salmoneus, was by Neptune mother to 
 Pelias, whose eldest daughter Alcestis was. The historian, who 
 relates the arts by which Medea induced the daughters of 
 Pelias to cut their father in pieces in expectation of seeing him 
 restored to youth, tells us that Alcestis alone, through the 
 tenderness of her filial piety, concurred not with her sisters in 
 that fatal deed. Diodor. Sic. 
 
 Pheres, now grown old, had resigned his kingdom to his son, 
 and retired to his paternal estate, as was usual in those States 
 where the sceptre was a spear. Admetus, on his first accession 
 to the regal power, had kindly received Apollo, who was 
 banished from heaven, and compelled for the space of a year to 
 be a slave to a mortal ; and the god, after he was restored to 
 his celestial honours, did not forget that friendly house ; but, 
 when Admetus lay ill of a disease from which there 'was no 
 recovery, prevailed upon the Fates to spare his life, on condi- 
 tion that some near relation would consent to die for him ; but 
 neither his father, nor his mother, nor any of his friends, was 
 willing to pay this ransom. Alcestis, hearing this, generously 
 devoted her own life to save her husband's. 
 
 Upon this wild and unpromising fable the poet has built this
 
 io EURIPIDES. 
 
 pleasing drama. With a beautiful simplicity which charac- 
 terizes the compositions of the ancients, and with a tenderness 
 of which his own heart was peculiarly susceptible, he has given 
 these scenes of domestic sensibility and distress their full effect. 
 The interview indeed between Pheres and Admetus is harsh 
 and indelicate ; the Chorus acknowledges it to be so, and 
 rebukes them both ; but it is the natural result of the manners 
 and ideas of the times, and therefore not offensive to an 
 Athenian audience, though to us it must appear indecent : it 
 shows what it was intended to show, the impassioned grief of 
 Admetus, and in those times the pnssions spoke their own 
 natural language without reserve ; nnd, according to the ideas 
 of those times, Pheres must be considered as guilty of the 
 basest and most unnatural pusillanimity. Virgil, the most 
 accurate observer of nature, gives even the unfeeling and 
 savage Mezentius the softening of parental affection, and makes 
 him exclaim, on the sight of his son, who died to save his 
 
 father 
 
 Tantane me tenuit vivendi, nate, voluptas, 
 Ut pro me hostili paterer succedere dextrae 
 Quern genui ? tuanc hsec genitor per vulnera servor, 
 Morte tuS. viven ? 
 
 The design of this tragedy is to recommend the virtue of 
 hospitality, so sacred among the Grecians, and encouraged on 
 political views, as well as to keep alive a generous and social 
 benevolence : the refinement of a double moral ill agrees with 
 the simplicity of the ancients. 
 
 The scene is in the vestibule of the house of Admetus. 
 
 Palaephatus has given this explanation of the fable : After 
 the death of Pelias, Acastus pursued the unhappy daughters to 
 punish them for destroying their father. Alcestis fled to 
 Pherae; Acastus demanded her of Admetu?, who refused to 
 give her up; he therefore advanced towards Pherae with a 
 great army, laying the country waste with fire and sword. 
 Admetus marched out of the city to check these devastations, 
 fell into an ambush, and was taken prisoner. Acastus 
 threatened to put him to death. When Alcestis understood 
 that the life of Admetus was in this danger on her account, 
 she went voluntarily and surrendered herself to Acastus, who
 
 ALCESTIS. ir 
 
 discharged Admetus, and detained her in custody. At this 
 critical time Hercules, on his expedition to Thrace, arrives at 
 Pheras, is hospitably entertained by Admetus, and, being 
 informed of the distress and danger of Alcestis, immediately 
 attacks Acastus, defeats his army, recovers the lady, and 
 restores her to Admetus. 
 
 PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. 
 
 APOLLO. 
 
 ORCUS. 
 
 ALCESTIS. 
 
 ADMETUS. 
 
 EUMELUS. 
 
 HERCULES. 
 
 PHERES. 
 
 ATTENDANTS. 
 
 CHORUS OF PHER^EANS. 
 
 APOLLO. 
 
 THY royal house, Admetus, yet again 
 
 I visit, where a slave among thy slaves 
 
 Thy table, though a god, I deigned to praise ; 
 
 To this compelled by Jove, who slew my son, 
 
 The healing sage, launching against his breast 
 
 The flaming thunder ; hence enraged I killed 
 
 The Cyclops, that prepared his fiery bolts. 
 
 For this a penal task my vengeful sire 
 
 Assigned me, to a mortal doomed a slave 
 
 Perforce ; I hither came, and fed his herds, 
 
 Who friendly entertained me, guarding then, 
 
 And to this day, his hospitable house. 
 
 Holy the house, and holy is its lord, 
 
 The son of Pheres ; him from death I saved 
 
 The Fates beguiling ; for those ancient powers 
 
 Assented that Admetus should escape 
 
 Death then approaching, would some other go, 
 
 Exchanged for him, to the dark realms beneath. 
 
 His friends, his father, e'en the aged dame 
 
 That gave him birth, were asked in vain ; not one
 
 12 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Was found, his wife except ; for him she willed 
 To die, and view no more th' ethereal light. 
 She in the house, supported in their arms, 
 Now sighs out her last breath : for she must die. 
 And this the fate-appointed day : for this, 
 Dear as it is, I leave the friendly mansion, 
 Lest there pollution find me. But I see 
 Orcus advancing near, priest of the dead ; 
 He to the house of Pluto will conduct her : 
 Observant of the stated time he comes, 
 True to the day when she perforce must die. 
 
 ORCUS, APOLLO. 
 
 ORC. Why art thou here? \Vhy dost thou make this house 
 Thy haunt, Apollo ? Thou dost wrong, again, 
 Th' infernal realms defrauding of their honours, 
 Torn from them, or delayed. Sufficed it not 
 T' have snatched Admetus from his doom, the Fates 
 With fraudful arts deluding ? Now again, 
 Armed with thy bow, why dost thou guard his wife, 
 Daughter of Pelias, bound by solemn vow, 
 Saving her husband's life, to die for him ? 
 
 APOL. Fear not ; thy right I reverence and just claim. 
 
 ORC. What means thy bow, if thou revere the right ? 
 
 APOL. It ever is my wont to bear these arms. 
 
 ORC. Ay, and unjustly to defend this house. 
 
 APOL. I mourn th' afflictions of the man I love. 
 
 ORC. Wouldst thou defraud me of this second dead ? 
 
 APOL. The first by violence I took not fcom thee. 
 
 ORC. How on the earth then walks he now alive ? 
 
 APOL. Ransomed by her, for whom thou now art come. 
 
 ORC. And I will lead her to the realms below. 
 
 APOL. Take her : I know not if I might persuade thee. 
 
 ORC. Him, whom I ought, to seize ; for that prepared. 
 
 APOL. No: but t' involve in death ripe, lingering age. 
 
 ORC. Full welt I understand thy speech and zeal. 
 
 APOL. May then Alcestis to that age be spared ? 
 
 ORC. No : honour, be assured, delights e'en me.
 
 ALCESTIS. 13 
 
 APOL. Thou canst but take a single life, no more, 
 
 ORC. Greater my glory when the youthful die. 
 
 APOL. More sumptuous obsequies await her age. 
 
 ORC. This were a law in favour of the rich. 
 
 APOL. What secret meaning hath thy wisdom here ? 
 
 ORC. They with their wealth would purchase to die old. 
 
 APOL. Wilt thou not then indulge me with this grace ? 
 
 ORC. Not I indeed : go to : thou knowest my manners. 
 
 APOL. Hostile to mortals, hateful to the gods. 
 
 ORC. Thou canst not have all that thou shouldst not have. 
 
 APOL. Yet, ruthless as thou art, soon wilt thou cease 
 This contest ; such a man to Pheres' house 
 Comes, to the frozen continent of Thrace 
 Sent by Eurystheus for the savage steeds 
 Yoked to the tyrant's car. He, in this house 
 A welcome guest t' Admetus, will by force 
 Take his wife from thee ; and no thanks from me 
 Will be thy due ; yet what I now entreat 
 Then thou wilt yield, and I shall hote thee still. 
 
 ORC. Say what thou wilt, nothing the more for that 
 Shalt thou from me obtain : this woman goes, 
 Be sure of that, to Pluto's dark domain. 
 I go, and with this sword assert my claim, 
 For sacred to th' infernal gods that head, 
 Whose hair is hallowed, by this charme'd blade. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 ist SEMICHOR. Before this royal mansion all is still : 
 What may this melancholy silence mean? 
 
 2nd SEMICHOR. And not a friend is nigh, from whom to 
 
 learn 
 
 \Vhether we ought to wail the queen now dead, 
 Or lives she yet, yet sees the light of heaven, 
 For conjugal affection justly deemed 
 By me, by all, the noblest of her sex. 
 
 ist SEMICHOR. Hear you a cry, hear you a clash of hands 
 Within, or lamentations for the dead ? 
 
 2nd SEMICHOR. Not e'en a servant holds his station here
 
 14 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Before the gates. O, 'midst this awful gloom 
 Appear, bright Paean, and dispel the storm ! 
 
 ist SEMICHOR. If she were dead, they would not be thus 
 
 silent ; 
 Nor could the body vanish from the house. 
 
 2nd SEMICHOR. Whence is thy confidence ? My fears o'er- 
 come me. 
 
 ist SEMICHOR. A wife so honoured would Admetus beaj 
 Without due pomp in silence to her tomb ? 
 
 2nd SEMICHOR. Nor vase of fountain water do I see 
 Before the doors, as custom claims, to bathe 
 The corse ; and none hath on the portal placed 
 His locks, in solemn mourning for the dead 
 Usually shorn ; nor does the younger train 
 Of females raise their sorrowing voices high. 
 
 ist SEMICHOR. Yet this the fatal day, when she must leave 
 The light of heaven. 
 
 2nd SEMICHOR. Why dost thou mention this ? 
 O, thou hast touched my heart, hast touched my soul. 
 
 ist SEMICHOR. When on the good afflictions fall, to grieve 
 Becomes the man that hath been prized as honest. 
 
 Strophe. 
 
 In vain, our pious vows are vain : 
 
 Make we the flying sail our care, 
 The light bark bounding o'er the main, 
 
 To what new realm shall we repair ? 
 
 To Lycia's hallowed strand ? 
 Or where in solitary state, 
 'Midst thirsty deserts wild and wide 
 That close him round on ev'ry side, 
 Prophetic Ammon holds his awful seat? 
 
 What charm, what potent hand 
 Shall save her from the realms beneath? 
 He comes, the ruthless tyrant Death : 
 
 I have no priest, no altar more, 
 
 Whose aid I may implore.
 
 ALCESTIS. 15 
 
 Antistrophe.. 
 
 O that the son of Phoebus now 
 
 Lived to behold th' ethereal light ! 
 Then might she leave the seats below, 
 Where Pluto reigns in cheerless night : 
 
 The Sage's potent art, 
 'Till thund'ring Jove's avenging power 
 Hurled his red thunders at his breast, 
 Could from the yawning gulf releast 
 To the sweet light of life the dead restore. 
 
 Who now shall aid impart ? 
 To ev'ry god at ev'ry shrine- 
 The king hath paid the rites divine : 
 But vain his vows, his pious care ; 
 And ours is dark despair. 
 
 CHORUS, FEMALE ATTENDANT. 
 
 CHOR. But of the female train one from the house 
 Comes bathed in tears : what tidings shall I hear ? 
 To weep, if aught of ill befalls thy lords, 
 Becomes thee : I would know if yet she lives, 
 Or sinks beneath the ruthless power of death. 
 
 AlT. As living I may speak of her, and dead. 
 
 CHOR. Living and dead at once, how may that be ? 
 
 ATT. E'en now she sinks in death, and breathes her last. 
 
 CHOR. Unhappy king, of what a wife bereft ! 
 
 ATT. Nor knows our lord his suffering, ere it comes. 
 
 CHOR. Is there no hope then yet to save her life ? 
 
 ATT. Th' inevitable day of fate is come. 
 
 CHOR. Have you prepared what the sad case requires? 
 
 ATT. Each honour that may grace her obsequies. 
 
 CHOR. Illustrious in her death, the best of wives : 
 The sun in his wide course sees not her equal. 
 
 ATT. The best of wives indeed ; who will gainsay it ? 
 What could the brightest pattern of her sex 
 Do more ? What greater proof give of the honour
 
 1 6 EURIPIDES. 
 
 She bears her husband, than a ready will 
 
 To die for him ! This all the city knows. 
 
 How in the house she hath demeaned herself 
 
 Will claim thy admiration. When she knew 
 
 The destined day was come, in fountain water 
 
 She bathed her lily-tinctured limbs, then took 
 
 From her rich chests of odorous cedar formed 
 
 A splendid robe, and her most radiant dress ; 
 
 Thus gorgeously arrayed she stood before 
 
 The hallowed fl.imes, and thus addressed her prayer .' 
 
 " O queen, I go to the infernal shades, 
 
 Yet, ere I go, with reverence let me breathe 
 
 My last request Protect my orphan children, 
 
 Make my son happy with the wife he loves, 
 
 And wed my daughter to a noble husband : 
 
 Nor let them, like their mother, to the tomb 
 
 Untimely sink, but in their native land 
 
 Be blest through lengthened life to honoured age." 
 
 Then to each altar in the royal house 
 
 She went, and crowned it, and addressed her vows, 
 
 Plucking the myrtle bouj>h : nor tear, nor sigh 
 
 Came from her, neither did th' approaching ill 
 
 Change the fresh beauties of her vermeil cheek. 
 
 Her chamber then she visits, and her bed ; 
 
 There her tears flowed, and thus she spoke : ' O bed, 
 
 To which my wedded lord, for whom I die, 
 
 Led me a virgin bride, farewell ! To thee 
 
 No blame do I impute, for me alone 
 
 Hast thou destroyed. Disdaining to betray 
 
 Thee, and my lord, I die. To thee shall come 
 
 Some other woman, not more chaste, perchance 
 
 More happy." As she lay, she kissed the couch, 
 
 And bathed it with a flood of tears : that passed, 
 
 She left her chamber, then returned, and oft 
 
 She left it, oft returned, and on the couch 
 
 Fondly, each time she entered, cast herself. 
 
 Her children, ao they hung upon her robes 
 
 Weeping, she raised, and clasped them to her breast 
 
 Each after each, as now about to die.
 
 ALCESTIS. 17 
 
 Each servant through the house burst into tears 
 
 In pity of their mistress ; she to each 
 
 Stretched her right hand ; nor was there one so mean 
 
 To whom she spoke not, and admitted him 
 
 To speak to her again. Within the house 
 
 These are our griefs. Admetus must have died, 
 
 Have perished ; but escaping is immersed 
 
 In sorrows, which his heart shall ne'er forget. 
 
 CHOR. Well may the groan burst from him, thus to lose 
 A wife with every excellence adorned. 
 
 ATT. He weeps indeed, and in his arms supports 
 His much-loved wife, entreats her not to leave him, 
 Asking impossibilities. She wastes 
 And fades with her disease ; her languid limbs 
 Supporting on his hand, yet while some breath 
 Of life remains she wishes to behold 
 The radiance of the sun, 'tis her last view, 
 As never more to see his golden orb. 
 I go to tell them thou art here : not all 
 Bear to their lords that firm unshaken faith 
 F attend them in their ills ; but thou of old 
 Hast to this house approved thyself a friend. 
 
 CHOR. Supreme of gods, is there no remedy 
 To these afflictions, from the storms of fate 
 No refuge to our lords ? Some means of safety 
 Hast thou assigned ? Or must these locks be shorn, 
 And sorrow robe me in her sable weeds ? 
 
 ATI'. Too plain, my friends, too plain : yet to the gods 
 Breathe we our vows, for great their power to save. 
 O royal Paean, for Admetus' ills 
 Find some relief ; assist him, O assist him ! 
 As thou before didst save him, save him now 
 From death ; repress the tyrant's murd'rous haste ! 
 
 CHOR. Alas, alas ! Woe, woe is me ! Thou son 
 Of Pheres, wilt thou bear to live, deprived 
 Of such a wife ? Will not despair unsheath 
 The self-destroying sword ? Will it not find 
 Some means of violent death ? This day thy wife- 
 Dear should I say ? nay, dearest to thy soul
 
 1 8 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Shalt thou see dead. But she comes forth, and with her 
 
 Her husband. Groan, thou land of Pheres, raise 
 
 The cry of mourning ; for the best of women 
 
 Wastes with disease, and drooping to the earth 
 
 Sinks to th' infernal Pluto's dreary realms. 
 
 Never will I pronounce the nuptial state 
 
 To pleasure more allied than grief : of old 
 
 This often have I noted, chiefly now 
 
 Viewing my king's affliction, who, bereft 
 
 Of this sweet excellence, is doomed to pass 
 
 A solitary life estranged from joy. 
 
 ALCESTIS, ADMETUS, EUMELUS, CHORUS. 
 
 ALC. Thou sun, and thou fair light of day, ye clouds 
 That in quick eddies whirl along the sky ! 
 
 ADM. Sees thee and me most wretched, yet in nought 
 Offending 'gainst the gods that thou shouldst die. 
 
 Al.c. O earth, ye tow'red roofs, thou bridal bed 
 Raised in lolcos, my paternal seat ! 
 
 ADM. O thou poor sufferer, raise thee, leave me not ; 
 Entreat the powerful gods to pity thee. 
 
 ALC. I see the two-oared boat, the Stygian barge ; 
 And he, that wafts the dead, grasps in his hand 
 His pole, and calls me, "Why dost thou delay? 
 Haste thee ; thou lingerest ; all is ready here. 
 Charon impatient speeds me to begone." 
 
 ADM. A melancholy voyage this to me. 
 O thou unhappy, what a fate is ours ! 
 
 ALC. He drags me, some one drags me to the gates 
 That close upon the dead : dost thou not see him, 
 How stern he frowns beneath his gloomy brows, 
 Th' impetuous Pluto? What wouldst thou with me ? 
 Off, let me go ! Ah, whnt a dreary path, 
 Wretched, most wretched, must I downwards tread ! 
 
 ADM. To thy friends mournful, most to me, and these 
 Thy children, who with me this sorrow share. 
 
 ALC. No longer hold me up, hold me no longer ; 
 Here lay me down : I have not strength to stand :
 
 ALCESTIS. 19 
 
 Death is hnrd by, dark night creeps o'er my eyes. 
 My children, O my children, now no more, 
 Your mother is no more : farewell ! May you 
 More happy see the golden light of heaven ! 
 
 ADM. Ah, what a mournful word is this ! To me 
 Than any death more painful. By the gods, 
 Forsake me not. Shouldst thou be taken from me, 
 I were no more ; in thee I live ; thy love, 
 Thy sweet society my soul reveres. 
 
 ALC. Thou seest, Admetus, what to me the Fates 
 Assign ; yet, ere I die, I wish to tell thee 
 What lies most near my heart. I honoured thee, 
 And in exchange for thine my forfeit life 
 Devoted ; now I die for thee, though free 
 Not to have died, but from Thessalia's chiefs 
 Preferring whom I pleased in royal state 
 To have lived happy here : I had no will 
 To live bereft of thee with these poor orphans ; 
 I die without reluctance, though the gifts 
 Of youth are mine to make life grateful to me. 
 Yet he that gave thee birth, and she that bore thee, 
 Deserted thee, though well it had beseemed them 
 With honour to have died for thee, t' have saved 
 Their son with honour, glorious in their death. 
 They had no child but thee, they had no hope 
 Of other offspring shouldst thou die ; and I 
 Might thus have lived, thou mightst have lived, till age 
 Crept slowly on, nor wouldst thou heave the sigh 
 Thus of thy wife deprived, nor train alone 
 Thy orphan children. But some god appointed 
 It should be thus : thus be it. Thou to me 
 Requite this kindness ; never shall I ask 
 An equal retribution, nothing bears 
 A value high as life : yet my request 
 Is just, thou wilt confess it ; for thy love 
 To these our children equals mine, thy soul 
 If wisdom tempers. In their mother's house 
 Let them be lords : wed not again, to set 
 A stepdame o'er my children, some base woman
 
 20 EURIPIDES. 
 
 That wants my virtues ; she through jealousy 
 
 Will work against their lives, because to thee 
 
 I bore them : do not this, I beg thee do not ; 
 
 For to the offspring of a former bed 
 
 A stepdame comes sharp as a serpent's tooth. 
 
 My son, that holds endearing converse with thee, 
 
 Hath in his father a secure protection. 
 
 But who, my daughter, shall with honour guide 
 
 Thy virgin years ? What woman shalt thou find, 
 
 New-wedded to thy father, whose vile arts 
 
 Will not with slanderous falsehoods taint thy name, 
 
 And blast thy nuptials in youth's freshest bloom 
 
 For never shall thy mother see thee led 
 
 A bride, nor at thy throes speak comfort to thee, 
 
 Then present when a mother's tenderness 
 
 Is most alive : for I must die ; the ill 
 
 Waits not a day, but quickly shall I be 
 
 Numbered amongst the dead. Farewell, be happy 
 
 And thou, my husband, mayst with honour boast 
 
 Thou hast been wedded to a virtuous wife ; 
 
 And you, my children, glory in your mother. 
 
 CHOR. Fear not : I boldly pledge my faith that this 
 He will perform, if reason holds her seat. 
 
 ADM. This shall be done, let not such fears disturb thee, 
 It shall be done ; for living thou wa5t mine, 
 And dead thou only shalt be called my wife. 
 Never in thy dear place Thessalian bride 
 Shall call me husband : no, nor other woman, 
 Though from a line of ancient kings she draws 
 Her noble blood, and boasts each peerless grace 
 Of native beauty. I am blest with children, 
 Nor wish I more ; in these I pray the gods 
 I may have joy, since all my joy in thee 
 Is lost. This mourning not one single year, 
 But to my life's last period, shall be borne. 
 How hateful are my parents ! for their words 
 Alone were friendly, not their deeds ; whilst ihou, 
 Paying the dearest forfeit for my life, 
 Hast saved me. Shall I ever cease to mourn,
 
 ALCESTIS. 2-1 
 
 Deprived of such a wife ? Hence I renounce 
 
 The feast, the cheerful guest, the flow'ry wreath, 
 
 And song that used to echo through my house : 
 
 For never will I touch the lyre again, 
 
 Nor to the Libyan flute's sweet measures raise 
 
 My voice : with thee all my delights are dead. 
 
 Thy beauteous figure, by the artist's hand 
 
 Skilfully wrought, shall in my bed be laid ; 
 
 By that reclining, I will clasp it to me, 
 
 And call it by thy name, and think I hold 
 
 My dear wife in my arms, and have her yet, 
 
 Though now no more I have her : cold delight 
 
 I ween ; yet thus th' affliction of my soul 
 
 Shall I relieve, and visiting my dreams 
 
 Shalt thou delight me ; for to see a friend 
 
 Is grateful to the soul, come when he will, 
 
 Though an unreal vision of the night. 
 
 Had I the voice of Orpheus, and his skill 
 
 Of power to soothe with my melodious strains 
 
 The daughter of bright Ceres, or her husband, 
 
 That from their realms I might receive thee back, 
 
 I would go down ; nor should th' infernal dog, 
 
 Nor the stern Charon, sitting at his oar 
 
 To waft the dead, restrain me, till thy life 
 
 I had restored to the fair light of day. 
 
 But there await me till I die ; prepare 
 
 A mansion for me, as again with me 
 
 To dwell ; for in thy tomb will I be laid 
 
 In the same cedar, by thy side composed ; 
 
 For ev'n in death I will not be disjoined 
 
 From thee, who hast alone been faithful to me. 
 
 CHOR. For her dear sake thy sorrows will I share 
 As friend with friend ; and she is worthy of it. 
 
 ALC. You hear, my children, what your father's words 
 Have promised, not to wed another woman 
 To your discomfort, nor dishonour me. 
 
 ADM. I now repeat it ; firm shall be my faith. 
 
 ALC. On this, receive thy children from my hands. 
 
 ADM. A much-loved gift, and from a much-loved hand.
 
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 ALC. Be now, instead of me, a mother to them. 
 
 ADM. If they lose thee, it must indeed be so. 
 
 ALC. When I should live, I sink among the dead. 
 
 ADM. Ah me, what shall I do bereft of thee! 
 
 ALC. Time will abate thy grief, the dead is nothing. 
 
 ADM. O lead me, by the gods, lead me down with thee. 
 
 ALC. Enough, it is enough that I die for thee. 
 
 ADM. O fate, of what a wife dost thou deprive me ! 
 
 ALC. A heavy weight hangs on my darkened eye. 
 
 ADM. If thou forsake me, I am lost indeed. 
 
 ALC. As one that is no more I now am nothing. 
 
 ADM. Ah, raise thy face : do not forsake thy children. 
 
 ALC. It must be so perforce : farewell, my children ! 
 
 ADM. Look on them, but a look ! 
 
 ALC. I am no more. 
 
 ADM. How dost thou ? Wilt thou leave us then ? 
 
 ALC. Farewell 1 
 
 ADM. And what a wretch, what a lost wretch am I ! 
 
 CHOR. She's gone ; thy wife, Admetus, is no more. 
 
 EUM. O my unhappy fate ! 
 My mother sinks to the dark realms of night, 
 Nor longer views this golden light ; 
 But to the ills of life exposed 
 Leaves my poor orphan state. 
 Her eyes, my father, see, her eyes are closed, 
 And her hand nerveless falls. 
 Yet hear me, O my mother, hear my cries, 
 It is thy son that calls, 
 Who prostrate on the earth breathes on thy lips his sighs. 
 
 ADM. On one that hears not, sees not : I and you 
 Must bend beneath affliction's heaviest lo.id. 
 
 EUM. Ah, she hath left my youth : 
 My mother, my dear mother, is no more, 
 Left me my sufferings to deplore ; 
 Who shall my sorrows soothe ? 
 Thou too, my sister, thy full share shalt know 
 Of grief, thy heart to rend. 
 Vain, O my father, vain thy nuptial vows,
 
 ALCESTIS. 
 
 Brought to this speedy end; 
 
 For, when my mother died, in ruin sunk thy house. 
 
 CHOR. Admetus, thou perforce must bear these ills : 
 Thou'rt not the first, nor shalt thou be the last 
 Of mortal men, to lose a virtuous wife : 
 For know, death is a debt we all must pay. 
 
 ADM. I know it well ; not unawares this ill 
 Falls on me; I foresaw, and mourned it long. 
 But I will bear the body hence ; attend : 
 And, whilst you wait, raise with alternate voice 
 The paean to the ruthless god that rules > 
 
 Below : and through my realms of Thessaly 
 I give command that all in solemn grief 
 For this dear woman shear their locks, r.nd wear 
 The sable g.>rb of mourning ; from your steeds, 
 Whether in pairs they whirl the car, or bear 
 Single the rider's rein, their waving manes 
 Cut close ; nor through the city be the sound 
 Of flute or lyre for twelve revolving moons. 
 Never shall I entomb one dearer to me, 
 Or one more kind : these honours from my hands 
 She merits, for she only died for me. 
 
 Strophe I. 
 
 Immortal bliss be thine, 
 Daughter of Pelias, in the realms below, 
 
 Immortal pleasures round thee flow, 
 Though never there the sun's bright beams shall shine. 
 
 Be the black- browed Pluto told, 
 
 And the Stygian boatman old, 
 Whose rude hands grasp the oar, the rudder guide, 
 
 The dead conveying o'er the tide, 
 Let him be told, so rich a freight before 
 
 His light skiff never bore ; 
 
 Tell him that o'er the joyless lakes 
 The noblest of her sex her dreary passage takes.
 
 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Strophe 2. 
 
 Thy praise the bards shall tell, 
 When to their hymning voice the echo rings, 
 
 Or when they sweep the solemn strings, 
 And wake to rapture the seven-chorded shell, 
 
 Or in Sparta's jocund bowers, 
 
 Circling when the vernal hours 
 Bring the Carnean feast, whilst through the night 
 
 Full-orbed the high moon rolls her light ; 
 Or where rich Athens proudly elevate 
 
 Shows her magnific state : 
 
 Their voice thy glorious death shall raise, 
 And swell th' enraptured strain to celebrate thy praise. 
 
 Antistrophe i. 
 
 O that I had the power, 
 Could I but bring thee from the shades of night 
 
 Again to view this golden light, 
 To leave that boat, to leave that dreary shore, 
 
 Where Cocytus deep and wide 
 
 Rolls along his sullen tide ! 
 For thou, O best of women, thou alone 
 
 For thy lord's life daredst give thy own. 
 Light lie the earth upon that gentle breast, 
 
 And be thou ever blest ! 
 
 But should he choose to wed again, 
 Mine and thy children's hearts would hold him in disdain. 
 
 Antistrophe 2. 
 
 When, to avert his doom, 
 His mother in the earth refused to lie ; 
 
 Nor would his ancient father die 
 To save his son from an untimely tomb ; 
 
 Though the hand of time had spread 
 
 Hoar hairs o'er each aged head ; 
 In youth's fresh bloom, in beauty's radiant glow, 
 
 The darksome way thou daredst to go,
 
 ALCESTIS. 25 
 
 And for thy youthful lord's to give thy life. 
 
 Be mine so true a wife ; 
 
 Though rare the lot : then should I prove 
 Th' indissoluble bond of faithfulness and love. 
 
 HERCULES, CHORUS. 
 
 HERC. Ye strangers, citizens of Pheras, say 
 If I shall find Admetus in the house. 
 
 CHOR. There is the son of Pheres, Hercules. 
 But what occasion, tell us, brought thee hither 
 To Thessaly ; to Pherae why this visit? 
 
 HERC. A toil imposed by the Tirynthian king. 
 
 CHOR. And whither roving ? on what journey bound ? 
 
 HERC. For the four steeds that whirl the Thracian's car. 
 
 CHOR. How to be won ; art thou a stranger there ? 
 
 HERC. A stranger, never on Bistonian ground. 
 
 CHOR. These horses are not won without strong contest. 
 
 HEKC. The toil, whate'er it be, I could not shun. 
 
 CHOR. He must be slain, or death awaits thee there. 
 
 HERC. Not the first contest this I have essayed. 
 
 CHOR. Shouldst thou o'ercome their lord, what is the prize ? 
 
 HERC. His coursers to Eurystheus I shall lead. 
 
 CHOR. No slight task in their mouths to place the curb. 
 
 HERC. I shall, though from their nostrils they breathe fire. 
 
 CHOR. With their fierce jaws they rend the flesh of men. 
 
 HERC. So feeds the mountain savage, not the horse. 
 
 CHOR. Their mangers shalt thou see all stained with blood. 
 
 HERC. From whom does he that bred them draw his race ? 
 
 CHOR. From Mars this king of golden-shielded Thrace. 
 
 HERC. How is this toil assigned me by my fate, 
 In enterprise so hazardous and high 
 Engaged, that always with the sons of Mars 
 I must join battle ? With Lycaon first, 
 With Cygnus next ; now with these furious steeds 
 And their proud lord another contest waits me : 
 But never shall Alcmena's son be seen 
 To tremble at the fierceness of a foe. 
 
 CHOR. But, see, the sceptred ruler of this land, 
 Admetus, from his house advances to thee.
 
 26 EURIPIDES. 
 
 ADMETUS, HERCULES, CHORUS. 
 
 ADM. Hail, son of Jove, of Perseus' noble blood. 
 
 HERC. Hail thou, Admetus, king of Thessaly. 
 
 ADM. I am no stranger to thy friendly wishes. 
 
 HERC. Why are thy locks in sign of mourning shorn ? 
 
 ADM. 'Tis for one dead, whom I must this day bury. 
 
 HERC. The god avert thy mourning for a child ! 
 
 ADM. My children, what I had, live in my house. 
 
 HERC. Thy aged father, haply he is gone. 
 
 ADM. My father lives, and she that bore me lives. 
 
 HERC. Lies then thy wife Alcestis 'mongst the dead ? 
 
 ADM. Of her I have in double wise to speak. 
 
 HERC. As of the living speakst thou, or the dead ? 
 
 ADM. She is, and is no more : this grief afflicts me. 
 
 HERC. This gives no information, dark thy words. 
 
 ADM. Knowst thou not then the destiny assigned her ? 
 
 HERC. I know that she submits to die for thee. 
 
 ADM. To this assenting is she not no more ? 
 
 HERC. Lament her not too soon ; await the time. 
 
 ADM. She's dead ; one soon to die is now no more. 
 
 HERC. It differs wide to be, or not to be. 
 
 ADM. Such are thy sentiments, far other mine. 
 
 HERC. But wherefore are thy tears ? What friend is dead ? 
 
 ADM. A woman ; of a woman made I mention. 
 
 HERC. Of foreign birth, or one allied to thee. 
 
 ADM. Of foreign birth, but to my house most dear. 
 
 HERC. How in thy house then did she chance to die ? 
 
 ADM. Her father dead, she came an orphan hither. 
 
 HERC. Would I had found thee with no grief oppressed. 
 
 ADM. With what intent dost thou express thee thus ? 
 
 HERC. To seek some other hospitable hearth. 
 
 ADM. Not so, O king ; come not so great an ill. 
 
 HERC. To those that mourn a guest is troublesome. 
 
 ADM. Dead are the dead : but enter thou my house. 
 
 HERC. Shame that with those who weep a guest should feast. 
 
 ADM. We have apartments separate, to receive thee. 
 
 HERC. Permit me to depart, much will I thank thee. 
 
 ADM. It must not be ; no, to another house
 
 ALCESTIS. 27 
 
 Thou must not turn aside. Go ihou before; 
 Ope those apartments of the house which bear 
 A different aspect ; give command to those 
 Whose charge it is to spread the plenteous table, 
 And bar the doors between : the voice of woe 
 Unseemly heard afflicts the feasting guest. 
 
 CHOR. What wouldst thou do, Admetus ? Such a grief 
 Now lying heavy on thee, canst thou bear 
 T' admit a guest ? Doth this bespeak thee wise ? 
 
 ADM. If from my house or city I should drive 
 A coming guest, wouldst thou commend me more ? 
 Thou wouldst not : my affliction would not thus , 
 Be less, but more unhospitable I ; 
 And to my former ills this further ill 
 Be added, I should hear my mansion called 
 The stranger-hating house. Besides, to me 
 His hospitable doors are always open, 
 Whene'er I tread the thirsty soil of Argos. 
 
 CHOR. Why didst thou then conceal thy present grief, 
 A stranger friend arriving, as thou sayst ? 
 
 ADM. My gate he would not enter, had he known 
 Of my affliction aught : yet acting thus 
 Some may perchance deem me unwise, nor hold me 
 Worthy of praise ; yet never shall my house 
 Know to dishonour or reject a guest. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Strophe i. 
 
 Yes, liberal house, with princely state 
 
 To many a stranger, many a guest 
 - Oft hast thou oped thy friendly gate, 
 
 Oft spread the hospitable feast. 
 Beneath thy roof Apollo deigned to dwell, 
 Here strung his silver-sounding shell, 
 And mixing with thy menial train 
 Deigned to be called the shepherd of the plain
 
 28 EURIPIDES. 
 
 And as he drove his flocks along, 
 Whether the winding vale they rove, 
 Or linger in the upland grove, 
 iHe tuned the pastoral pipe or rural song. 
 
 Strophe 2. 
 
 Delighted with thy tuneful lay 
 
 No more the savage thirsts for blood ; 
 
 Amidst thy flocks in harmless play 
 
 Wantons the lynx's spotted brood ; 
 Pleased from his lair on Othrys' rugged brow 
 
 The lion seeks the vale below ; 
 
 Whilst to thy lyre's melodious sound 
 The dappled hinds in sportive measures bound ; 
 
 And as the vocal echo rings, 
 
 Lightly their nimble feet they ply, 
 
 Leaving their pine-clad forests high, 
 Charmed with the sweet notes of thy gladdening strings. 
 
 Antistrophe i. 
 
 Hence is thy house, Admetus, graced 
 With all that Plenty's hand bestows, 
 
 Near the sweet-streaming current placed 
 
 That from the lake of Boebia flows. 
 Far to the west extends the wide domain, 
 
 Rich-pastured mead and cultured plain ; 
 
 Its bound, the dark Molossian air, 
 Where the Sun stations his unharnessed car, 
 
 And stretching to his eastern ray, 
 
 Where Pelion rising in his pride 
 
 Frowns o'er th' ;gean's portless tide, 
 Reaches from sea to sea thy ample sway. 
 
 Antistrophe 2. 
 
 Yet wilt thou ope thy gate e'en now, 
 E'en now wilt thou receive this guest : 
 
 Though from thine eye the warm tear flow, 
 Though sorrow rend thy suffering breast :
 
 ALCESTIS. 29 
 
 Sad tribute to thy wife, who knew in death 
 
 Lamented lies thy roof beneath. 
 
 But Nature thus her laws decreed, 
 The generous mind is prompt to generous deed ; 
 
 For all the power of wisdom lies 
 
 Fixed in the righteous bosom : hence 
 
 My soul assumes this confidence, 
 Fair to the virtuous shall Success arise. 
 
 ADMETUS, CHORUS. 
 
 ADM. Ye citizens of Pheras, present here, 
 Benevolent to me, my dead adorned 
 With every honour, the attendant train 
 Are bearing to the tomb and funeral pyre. 
 Do you, for ancient usage so requires, 
 Address her as she takes her last sad way. 
 
 CHOR. Thy father Pheres ! See, his aged foot 
 Advances ; his attendants in their hands 
 Bear gorgeous presents, honours to the dead. 
 
 PHERES, ADMETUS, CHORUS. 
 
 PHER. I come, my son, joint sufferer in thy griefs ; 
 For thou hast lost a good and virtuous wife, 
 None will gainsay it; but thou must perforce 
 Endure this, though severe. These ornaments 
 Receive, and let her go beneath the earth : 
 These honours are her due, since for thy life 
 She died, my son ; nor would she I should be 
 Childless, nor suffered me bereft of thee 
 To waste in grief my sad remains of life. 
 The life of all her sex hath she adorned 
 With added lustre by this generous deed. 
 O thou, that hast preserved my son, and raised 
 Our sinking glories, hail ! E'en in the house 
 Of Pluto be thou blest ! Such marriages 
 Pronounce I good ; others of little worth. 
 
 ADM. Thou comest not to these obsequies by me
 
 30 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Invited, nor thy presence do I deem 
 
 Friendly. She never in thy ornaments 
 
 Shall be arrayed, nor wants she aught of thine 
 
 To grace her funeral rites. Then was the time 
 
 To show thy social sorrow, when my life 
 
 The Fates demanded : thou couldst stand aloof, 
 
 Old as thou art, and give a younger up 
 
 To die ; and wouldst thou now bewail her death ? 
 
 Art thou my father? No; nor she, who says 
 
 She brought me forth, my mother, though so called ; 
 
 But the base offspring of some slave thy wife 
 
 Stole me, and put me to her breast. Thy deeds 
 
 Show what thou art by plain and evident proof : 
 
 And never can I deem myself thy son, 
 
 Who passest all in mean and abject spirit. 
 
 At such an age, just trembling on the verge 
 
 Of life, that wouldst not nay, thou daredst not die 
 
 For thine own son : but you could suffer her, 
 
 Though sprung from foreign blood. With justice then 
 
 Her only as my father must I deem', 
 
 Her only as my mother ; yet this course 
 
 Mightst thou have run with glory, for thy son 
 
 Daring to die ; brief was the space of life 
 
 That could remain to thee. I then had lived 
 
 My destined time ; she too had lived, nor thus 
 
 Of her forsaken should I wail my loss. 
 
 Yet all that makes man happy hadst thou proved, 
 
 Blest through thy life : in royalty thy youth 
 
 Grew up ; I was thy son t' inherit from thee 
 
 Thy treasures, that not childless hadst thou died, 
 
 Leaving thy desolated house a prey 
 
 To plundering strangers. Neither canst thou say 
 
 Thou gavest me up to death as one that held 
 
 Thy age in rude contempt : I honoured thee 
 
 With holy reverence, requited thus 
 
 By thee and her that bore me. Other sons 
 
 Wilt thou not therefore speed thee to beget, 
 
 To cherish thy old age, to grace thee dead 
 
 With sumptuous vest, and lay thee in the tomb ?
 
 ALCESTIS. 31 
 
 That office never shall my hand perform, 
 
 For, far as in thee lay, I died ; if yet 
 
 I view this light, fortune presenting me 
 
 Other deliverer, his son I am, 
 
 With pious fondness to support his age. 
 
 Unmeaning is the old man's wish to die, 
 
 Of age complaining and life's lengthened course ; 
 
 For, at th' advance of death, none has the will 
 
 To die : old age is no more grievous to them. 
 
 CHOR. Forbear ; enough the present weight of woe. 
 My son, exasperate not a father's mind. 
 
 PHER. Me as some worthless Lydian dost thou rate, 
 My son, or Phrygian slave bought with thy gold ? 
 Dost thou not know I am Thessalian born, 
 Of a Thessalian father, truly free ? 
 Opprobrious are thy words, reviling me 
 With youthful insolence, not quitted so. 
 I gave thee birth, thence lord of my fair house ; 
 I gave thee nurture, that indeed I owed thee, 
 But not to die for thee : such law from nature 
 Received I not, that fathers for their sons 
 Should die, nor does Greece know it. For thyself, 
 Whether misfortune press thee, or thy state 
 Be happier, thou wast born : thou hast from me 
 Whate'er behoves thee : o'er an ample realm 
 Thou now art king, and I shall leave thee more, 
 A large extent of lands ; for from my father 
 These I received. In what then have I wronged thee? 
 Or what deprived thee ? Die not thou for me, 
 Nor I for thee. Is it to thee a joy 
 To view the light of heaven ? and dost thou think 
 Thy father joys not in it ? Long I deem 
 The time below ? But little is the space 
 Of life, yet pleasant. Thou, devoid of shame, 
 Hast struggled not to die, and thou dost live 
 Passing the bounds of life assigned by fate, 
 By killing her. My mean and abject spirit 
 Thou dost rebuke, O thou most timid wretch, 
 Vanquished e'en by a woman, who for thee,
 
 32 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Her young and beauteous husband, freely died. 
 
 A fine device that thou mightst never die, 
 
 Couldst thou persuade who at the time might be 
 
 Thy wife to die for thee ; yet canst thou load 
 
 Thy friends with vile reproach, if they decline 
 
 To do it, base and timid as thou art. 
 
 But hold thy peace ; and think, if life be dear 
 
 To thee, it must be dear to all. On us, 
 
 If thou wilt throw reproaches, thou shalt hear 
 
 Enough of thy ill deeds, and nothing false. 
 
 CHOR. Too much of ill already hath been spoken : 
 Forbear, old man, nor thus revile thy son. 
 
 ADM. Say what thou wilt, I have declared my thoughts: 
 But if it gives thee pain to hear the truth, 
 Much it behoved thee not to wrong me thus. 
 
 PHER. Had I died for thee, greater were the wrong. 
 
 ADM. Is death alike then to the young and old? 
 
 PHER. With one life ought we live, and not with two. 
 
 ADM. Mayst thou then live a greater age than Jove ! 
 
 PHER. And dost thou, nothing injured, curse thy parents ? 
 
 ADM. I saw thee fondly coveting long life. 
 
 PHER. Her, that died for thee, wilt thou not entomb ? 
 
 ADM. These are the tokens of thy abject spirit. 
 
 PHER. By us she died not, that thou wilt not say. 
 
 ADM. Ah, mayst thou some time come to want my aid ! 
 
 PHER. Wed many wives, that more may die for thee. 
 
 ADM. On thee be that reproach, thou wouldst not die. 
 
 PHER. Sweet is this light of heaven, sweet is this light. 
 
 ADM. Base is thy thought, unworthy of a man. 
 
 PHER. Would it not joy thee to entomb my age ? 
 
 ADM. Die when thou wilt, inglorious wilt thou die. 
 
 PHER. An ill report will not affect me dead. 
 
 ADM. Alas, alas, how shameless is old age ! 
 
 PHER. She was not shameless, but thou foundst her mad. 
 
 ADM. Begone, and suffer me t' entomb the dead. 
 
 PHER. I go : thou shalt entomb her, as thyself 
 Her murderer. Look for vengeance from her friends. 
 Acastus is no man, if his hands fail 
 Dearly t' avenge on thee his sister's blood.
 
 ALCESTIS. 33 
 
 ADM. Why get thee gone, thou and thy worthy wife ; 
 Grow old together, as you well deserve, 
 Childless, your son yet living ; never more 
 Meet me beneath this roof. Go ! Were it decent 
 To interdict thee by the herald's voice, 
 I would forbid thee ever set thy foot 
 Within this mansion of thy ancestors. 
 But let us go, since we must bear our ill, 
 And place her body on the funeral pyre. . 
 
 CHOR. O thou unhappy, nobly daring woman, 
 Most generous, brightest excellence, farewell ! 
 Courteous my Hermes and th' infernal king 
 Receive thee : in those realms if aught of grace 
 Awaits the virtuous, be those honours thine, 
 And be thy seat nigh Pluto's royal bride. 
 
 ATT. To many a guest ere now, from various realms 
 Arriving, in this mansion have I spread 
 The hospitable feast ; but at this hearth 
 A viler than this stranger never shared 
 The bounty of Admetus : though he saw 
 My lord oppressed with grief, it checked him not, 
 He boldly entered ; nor with sober cheer 
 Took the refreshment offered, though he knew 
 Th' affliction of the house. If what he would 
 We brought not on the instant, he enforced 
 His harsh commands ; and, grasping in his hands 
 A goblet wreathed with ivy, filled it high 
 With the grape's purple juice, and quaffed it off 
 Untempered, till the glowing wine inflamed him ; 
 Then, binding round his head a myrtle wreath, 
 Howls dismal discord ; two unpleasing strains 
 We heard, his harsh notes, who in nought revered 
 Th' afflictions of Admetus, and the voice 
 Of sorrow through the family that wept 
 Our mistress ; yet our tearful eyes we showed not, 
 Admetus so commanded, to the guest. 
 My office bids me wait, and in the house 
 Receive this stranger, some designing knave, 
 Or ruffian robber : she meantime is borne 
 
 B
 
 34 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Out of the house, nor did I follow her, 
 
 Nor stretched my hand lamenting my lost mistress : 
 
 She was a mother to me, and to ail 
 
 My fellow-servants ; from a thousand ills 
 
 She saved us, with her gentleness appeasing 
 
 Our lord when angry : justly do I hate 
 
 This stranger then, who came amidst our grief. 
 
 HERCULES, ATTENDANT. 
 
 HERC. You fellow, why that grave and thoughtful look ? 
 Ill it becomes a servant's countenance 
 To frown on strangers, whom he should receive 
 With cheerfulness. A good friend of thy lord 
 Is present : all the welcome he can get 
 From thee, a sullen and contracted brow, 
 Mourning a loss that touches not this house. 
 Come hither, that thou mayst be wiser, friend ; 
 Knowst thou the nature of all mortal things ? 
 Not thou, I ween ; how shouldst thou ? Hear from me : 
 By all of human race death is a debt 
 That must be paid, and none of mortal men 
 Knows whether till to-morrow life's short space 
 Shall be extended : such the dark events 
 Of fortune ; never to be learned, nor traced 
 By any skill. Instructed thus by me 
 Bid pleasure welcome, drink, the life allowed 
 From day to day esteem thine own, all else 
 Fortune's. To Venus chief address thy vows 
 Of all the heavenly powers she, gentle queen, 
 Kindest to man, and sweetest : all besides 
 Reckless let pass, and listen to my words, 
 If thou seest reason in them, as I think 
 Thou dost : then bid excessive grief farewell, 
 And drink with us ; master these present ills, 
 And bind thy brows with garlands ; well I know 
 The circling bowl will waft thy spirits to bliss, 
 Now sunk in dark and sullen melancholy. 
 Since we me mortal, be our minds intent
 
 ALCESTIS. 35 
 
 On mortal things ; to all the grave, whose brows 
 With cares are furrowed, let me judge for thee, 
 Life is no life, but a calamity. 
 
 ATT. These things we know ; but what becomes us now 
 111 suits with festal revelry and mirth. 
 
 HERC. A woman dies, one unrelated ; check 
 Thy grief: the lords of this fair mansion live. 
 
 ATT. Live Knowst thou not th* afflictions of this house? 
 
 HERC. Unless thy lord in something hath deceived me. 
 
 ATT. Liberal his mind, too liberal to the guest. 
 
 HERC. No : for a stranger dead he hath done well. 
 
 ATT. No stranger, but a near domestic loss. 
 
 HERC. Is it some sorrow which he told not me ? 
 
 ATT. Go thou with joy ; ours are our lord's afflictions. 
 
 HERC. These are not words that speak a foreign loss. 
 
 ATT. If such, thy revelry had not. displeased me. 
 
 HERC. Then by my friendly host I much am wronged. 
 
 ATT. Thy coming was unseasonable ; this house 
 Wanted no guest : thou seest our locks all shorn, 
 Our grief and sable vests. 
 
 HERC. Who then is dead? 
 
 One of his children, or his aged father? 
 
 ATT. His wife Alcestis, stranger, is no more. 
 
 HERC. What sayst thou ? And e'en so could you receive me ? 
 
 ATT. It shamed him to reject thee from his house. 
 
 HERC. O wretch, of what a wife art thou bereft ! 
 
 ATI'. Not she alone, we all are lost with her. 
 
 HERC. I might have thought this when I saw his eye 
 Flowing with tears, his locks shorn off, and grief 
 Marked on his face : but he persuaded me, 
 Saying that one of foreign birth he mourned, 
 And bore her to the tomb : unwillingly 
 Ent'ring these gates I feasted in the house, 
 My hospitable friend with such a grief 
 Oppressed ; nay more, I revelled, and my head 
 With garlands shaded : but the fault was thine, 
 Who didst not tell me that a woe like this 
 Thy house afflicted. But inform me where 
 She is interred ; where shall I find her tomb ? 
 
 B 2
 
 26 EURIPIDES. 
 
 ATT. Right in the way that to Larissa leads 
 Without the city wilt thou find her tomb. 
 
 HERC. Now my firm heart, and thou, my daring soul, 
 Show what a son the daughter of Electryon, 
 Alcmena of Tirynthia, bore to Jove. 
 This lady, new in death, behoves me save, 
 And, to Admetus rend'ring grateful service, 
 Restore his lost Alcestis to his house. 
 This sable-vested tyrant of the dead 
 My eye shall watch, not without hope to find him 
 Drinking th' oblations nigh the tomb. If once 
 Seen from my secret stand I rush upon him, 
 These arms shall grasp him till his panting sides 
 Labour for breath ; and who shall force him from me, 
 Till he gives back this woman ? Should I fail 
 To seize him there, as coming not to taste 
 The spilt blood's thickening foam, I will descend 
 To the drear house of Pluto and his queen, 
 Which the sun never cheers, and beg her thence, 
 Assured that I shall lead her back, and place her 
 In my friend's hands, whose hospitable heart 
 Received me in his house, nor made excuse, 
 Though pierced with such a grief; this he concealed 
 Through generous thought and reverence to his friend. 
 Who in Thessalia bears a warmer love 
 To strangers ? Who, through all the realms of Greece ? 
 It never shall be said this generous man 
 Received in me a base and worthless wretch. 
 
 ADMETUS, CHORUS. 
 
 ADM. Ah me ! Ah me ! How mournful this approach ! 
 How hateful to my sight this widowed house ! 
 Ah, whither shall I go ? where shall I rest ? 
 What shall I say ? or what forbear to say ? 
 How may I sink beneath this weight of woe ? 
 To misery was I born, wretch that I am ; 
 I envy now the dead, I long for them, 
 Long to repose me in that house. No more
 
 ALCESTIS. 37 
 
 With pleasure shall I view the sun's fair beams, 
 No more with pleasure walk upon this earth : 
 So dear an hostage death has rent from me, 
 And yielded to th' infernal king his prey. 
 
 CHOR. Go forward, yet go forward ; to thy house 
 Retire. 
 
 ADM. Ah me ! 
 
 CHOR. Thy sufferings do indeed 
 
 Demand these groans. 
 
 ADM. O miserable me ! 
 
 CHOR. Thy steps nre set in sorrow, well I know, 
 But all thy sorrow nought avails the dead. 
 
 ADM. Wretch that I am ! 
 
 CHOR. To see thy wife no more, 
 
 No more to see her face, is grief indeed. 
 
 ADM. O. thou hast touched on that which deepest wounds 
 My mind : what greater ill can fall on man 
 Than of a faithful wife to be deprived ? 
 
 that I ne'er had wedded, in the house 
 
 Had ne'er dwelt with her ! The unmarried state 
 
 1 envy, and deem those supremely blest 
 Who have no children ; in one single life 
 To mourn is pain that may be well endured : 
 To see our children wasting with disease, 
 To see death ravaging our nuptial bed, 
 This is not to be borne, when we might pass 
 Our lives without a child, without a wife. 
 
 CHOR. Fate comes, resistless Fate. 
 
 ADM. Unhappy me ! 
 
 CHOR. But to thy sorrows wilt thou put no bounds ? 
 
 ADM. Woe, woe, woe, woe ! 
 
 CHOR. A ponderous weight indeed 
 
 To bear, yet bear them. Thou art not the first 
 That lost a wife : misery, in different forms 
 To different men appearing, seizes all. 
 
 ADM. Ye lasting griefs, ye sorrows for our friends 
 Beneath the earth ! Ah, why did ye restrain me ? 
 I would have cast myself into the tomb, 
 The gaping tomb, and lain in death with her,
 
 38 EURIPIDES. 
 
 The dearest, best of women ; there for one 
 Pluto had coupled two most faithful souls, 
 Together passing o'er th* infernal lake. 
 
 CHOR. I had a friend, by birth allied to me, 
 Whose son, and such a son as claimed his tears, 
 Died in the prime of youth, his only child ; 
 Yet with the firmness of a man he bore 
 His grief, though childless, and declining age 
 Led him with hasty steps to hoary hairs. 
 
 ADM. Thou goodly mansion, how shall I endure 
 To enter thee, how dwell beneath thy roof, 
 My state thus sunk! Ah me, how changed from that, 
 When 'midst the pines of Pelion blazing round, 
 And hymeneal hymns, I held my way, 
 And led my loved Alcestis by her hand : 
 The festal train with many a cheerful shout 
 Saluted her, now dead, and me, and hailed 
 Our union happy, as descended each 
 From generous blood and high-born ancestry. 
 Now for the nuptial song, the voice of woe 
 For gorgeous robes, this black and mournful garb 
 Attends me to my halls, and to my couch, 
 Where solitary sorrow waits me now. 
 
 CHOR. This sorrow came upon thee 'midst a state 
 Of happiness, a stranger thou to ills : 
 Yet is thy life preserved : thy wife is dead, 
 Leaving thy love ; is there aught new in this ? 
 Many hath death reft of their wives before. 
 
 ADM. My friends, I deem the fortune of my wife 
 Happier than mine, though otherwise it seems ; 
 For never more shall sorrow touch her breast, 
 And she with glory rests from various ills. 
 But I, who ought not live, my destined hour 
 O'erpassing, shall drag on a mournful life, 
 Late taught what sorrow is. How shall I bear 
 To enter here ? To whom shall I address 
 My speech ? Whose greeting renders my return 
 Delightful ? Which way shall I turn ? ' Within 
 In lonely sorrow shall I waste away,
 
 ALCESTIS. 39 
 
 As widowed of my wife I see my couch, 
 The seats deserted where she sate, the rooms 
 Wanting her elegance. Around my knees 
 My children hang, and weep their mother lost : 
 These too lament their mistress now no more. 
 This is the scene of misery in my house : 
 Abroad, the nuptials of Thessalia's youth 
 And the bright circles of assembled dames 
 Will but augment my grief : ne'er shall I bear 
 To see the loved companions of iny wife. 
 And if one hates me, he will say, " Behold 
 The man, who basely lives, who dared not die, 
 But, giving through the meanness of his soul 
 His wife, avoided death, yet would be deemed 
 A man : he hates his parents, yet himself 
 Had not the spirit to die." These ill reports 
 Cleave to me : why then wish for longer life, 
 On evil tongues thus fallen, and evil days ? 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Strophe i. 
 
 My vent'rous foot delights 
 To tread the Muses' arduous heights ; 
 Their hallowed haunts I love t' explore, 
 
 And listen to their lore : 
 Yet never could my searching mind 
 Aught, like necessity, resistless find ; 
 No herb of sovereign power to save, 
 Whose virtues Orpheus joyed to trace, 
 And wrote them in the rolls of Thrace ; 
 
 Nor all that Phoebus gave, 
 Instructing the Asclepian train, 
 When various ills the human frame assail, 
 To heal the wound, to soothe the pain, 
 'Gainst her stern force avail.
 
 40 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Antistrophe i. 
 
 Of all the powers divine 
 Alone none dares approach her shrine ; 
 To her no hallowed image stands, 
 
 No altar she commands ; 
 In vain the victim's blood would flow ; 
 She never deigns to hear the suppliant vow. 
 Never to me mayst thou appear, 
 Dread goddess, with severer mien, 
 That oft in life's past tranquil scene 
 
 Thou hast been known to wear. 
 By thee Jove works his stern behest : 
 Thy force subdues e'en Scythia's stubborn steel 
 Nor ever does thy rugged breast 
 
 The touch of pity feel. 
 
 Strophe 2. 
 
 And now, with ruin pleased, 
 On thee, O king, her hands have seized, 
 And bound thee in her iron chain : 
 
 Yet her fell force sustain. 
 For from the gloomy realms of night 
 No tears recall the dead to life's sweet light ; 
 No virtue, though to heaven allied, 
 Saves from th' inevitable doom : 
 Heroes and sons of gods have died, 
 
 And sunk into the tomb. 
 Dear, whilst our eyes her presence blest, 
 Dear, in the gloomy mansions of the dead ; 
 Most generous she, the noblest, best, 
 
 Who graced thy nuptial bed. 
 
 Antistrophe 2. 
 
 Thy wife's sepulchral mound 
 Deem not as common, worthless ground, 
 That swells their breathless bodies o'er 
 
 Who die, and are no more.
 
 ALCESTIS. 41 
 
 No : be it honoured as a shrine 
 Raised high, and hallowed to some power divine. 
 
 The traveller, as he passes by, 
 
 Shall thither bend his devious way, 
 
 With reverence gaze, and with a sigh 
 Smite on his breast, and say, 
 
 " She died of old to save her lord ; 
 Now blest among the blest : Hail, power revered ; 
 
 To us thy wonted grace afford ! " 
 
 Such vows shall be preferred. 
 But see, Admetus, to thy house, I ween, 
 Alcmena's son bends his returning steps. 
 
 HERCULES, ADMETUS, CHORUS. 
 
 HERC. I would speak freely to my friend, Admetus, 
 Nor what I blame keep secret in my breast. 
 I came to thee amidst thy ills, and thought 
 I had been worthy to be proved thy friend. 
 Thou toldst me not the obsequies prepared 
 Were for thy wife, but in thy house receivdst me 
 As if thou grievdst for one of foreign birth. 
 1 bound my head with garlands, to the gods 
 Pouring libations in thy house with grief 
 Oppressed. I blame this : yes, in such a state 
 I blame this : yet I come not in thine ills 
 To give thee pain ; why I return in brief 
 Will I unfold. This woman from my hands 
 Receive to thy protection, till returned 
 I bring the Thracian steeds, having there slain 
 The proud Bistonian tyrant ; should I fail, 
 Be that mischance not mine, for much I wish 
 Safe to revisit thee, yet should I fail, 
 I give her to the safeguard of thy house. 
 For with much toil she came into my hands. 
 To such as dare contend some public games, 
 Which well deserved my toil, I find proposed, 
 I bring her thence, she is the prize of conquest ; 
 For slight assays each victor led away
 
 42 EURIPIDES. 
 
 A courser ; but for those of harder proof 
 The conqueror was rewarded from the herd, 
 And with some female graced ; victorious there, 
 A prize so noble it were base to slight. 
 Take her to thy protection, not by stealth 
 Obtained, but the reward of many toils ; 
 The time perchance may come when thou wilt thank me. 
 ADM. Not that I slight thy friendship, or esteem thee 
 Other than noble, wished I to conceal 
 My wife's unhappy fate ; but to my grief 
 It had been added grief, if thou hadst sought 
 Elsewhere the rites of hospitality ; 
 Suffice it that I mourn ills which are mine. 
 This woman, if it may be, give in charge, 
 I beg thee, king, to some Thessalian else, 
 That hath not cause like me to grieve ; in Pheras 
 Thou mayst find many friends ; call not my woes 
 Fresh to my memory ; never in my house 
 Could I behold her but my tears would flow ; 
 To sorrow add not sorrow ; now enough 
 I sink beneath its weight. Where should her youth 
 With me be guarded ? for her gorgeous vests 
 Proclaim her young ; if mixing with the men 
 She dwell beneath my roof, how shall her fame, 
 Conversing with the youths, be kept unsullied ? 
 It is not easy to restrain the warmth 
 Of that intemperate age ; my care for thee 
 Warns me of this. Or if from them removed 
 I hide her in th' apartments late my wife's, 
 How to my bed admit her ? I should fear 
 A double blame my citizens would scorn me 
 As light, and faithless to the kindest wife 
 That died for me, if to her bed I took 
 Another blooming bride ; and to the dead 
 Behoves me pay the highest reverence 
 Due to her merit. And thou, lady, know, 
 Whoe'er thou art, that form, that shape, that air 
 Resembles my Alcestis. By the gods, 
 Remove her from my sight. It is too much,
 
 ALCESTIS. 43 
 
 I cannot bear it : when I look on her, 
 Methinks I see my wife ; this wounds my heart, 
 And calls the tears fresh gushing from my eyes. 
 This is the bitterness of grief indeed. 
 
 CHOR. I cannot praise thy fortune ; but behoves thee 
 To bear with firmness what the gods assign. 
 
 HERC. O that from Jove I had the power to bring 
 Back from the mansions of the dead thy wife 
 To heaven's fair light, that grace achieving for thee ! 
 
 ADM. I know thy friendly will. But how can this 
 Be done ? The dead return not to this light. 
 
 HERC. Check then thy swelling griefs; with reason rule 
 them. 
 
 ADM. How easy to advise, but hard to bear ! 
 
 HERC. What would it profit shouldst thou always groan? 
 
 ADM. I know it ; but I am in love with grief. 
 
 HERC. Love to the dead calls forth the ceaseless tear. 
 
 ADM. O, I am wretched more than words can speak. 
 
 HERC. A good wife hast thou lost, who can gainsay it ? 
 
 ADM. Never can life be pleasant to me more. 
 
 HERC. Thy sorrow now is new, time will abate it. 
 
 ADM. Time, sayst thou ? Yes, the time that brings me 
 death. 
 
 HERC. Some young and lovely bride will bid it cease. 
 
 ADM. No more : what sayst thou ? Never could I think 
 
 HERC. Wilt thou still lead a lonely, widowed life ? 
 
 ADM. Never shall other woman share my bed. 
 
 HERC. And think'st thou this will aught avail the dead ? 
 
 ADM. This honour is her due, where'er she be. 
 
 HERC. This hath my praise, though near allied to frenzy. 
 
 ADM. Praise me, or not, I ne'er will wed again. 
 
 HERC. I praise thee that thou'rt faithful to thy wife. 
 
 ADM. Though dead, if I betray her may I die ! 
 
 HERC. Well, take this noble lady to thy house. 
 
 ADM. No, by thy father Jove let me entreat thee. 
 
 HERC. Not to do this would be the greatest wrong. 
 
 ADM. To do it would with anguish rend my heart. 
 
 HERC. Let me prevail ; this grace may find its meed. 
 
 ADM. O that thou never hadst received this prize I
 
 44 EURIPIDES. 
 
 HERC. Yet in my victory thou art victor with me. 
 
 ADM. 'Tis nobly said : yet let this woman go. 
 
 HERC. If she must go, she shall: but must she go? 
 
 ADM. She must, if 1 incur not thy displeasure. 
 
 HERC. There is a cause that prompts my earnestness. 
 
 ADM. Thou hast prevailed, but much against my will. 
 
 HERC. The time will come when thou wilt thank me for it. 
 
 ADM. Well, if I must receive her, lead her in. 
 
 HERC. Charge servants with her ! No, that must not be. 
 
 ADM. Lead her thyself then, if thy will incline thee. 
 
 HERC. No, to thy hand alone will I commit her. 
 
 ADM. I touch her not ; but she hath leave to enter. 
 
 HERC. I shall entrust her only to thy hand. 
 
 ADM. Thou dost constrain me, king, against my will. 
 
 HERC. Venture to stretch thy hand, and touch the stranger's. 
 
 ADM. I touch her, as I would the headless Gorgon. 
 
 HERC. Hast thou her hand? 
 
 ADM. I have. 
 
 HERC. Then hold her safe. 
 
 Hereafter thou wilt say the son of Jove 
 Hath been a generous guest : view now her face, 
 See if she bears resemblance to thy wife, 
 And thus made happy bid farewell to grief. 
 
 ADM. O gods, what shall I say ? 'Tis marvellous, 
 Exceeding hope. See I my wife indeed? 
 Or doth some god distract me with false joy ? 
 
 HERC. In very deed dost thou behold thy wife. 
 
 ADM. See that it be no phantom from beneath. 
 
 HERC. Make not thy friend one that evokes the shades. 
 
 ADM. And do I see my wife, whom I entombed ? 
 
 HERC. I marvel not that thou art diffident. 
 
 ADM. I touch her ; may I speak to her as living ? 
 
 HERC. Speak to her ; thou hast all thy heart could wish. 
 
 ADM. Dearest of women, do see I again 
 That face, that person ? This exceeds all hope : 
 I never thought that I should see thee more. 
 
 HERC. Thou hast her ; may no god be envious to thee. 
 
 ADM. O, be thou blest, thou generous son of Jove ! 
 Thy father's might protect thee ! Thou alone
 
 ALCESTIS. 45 
 
 Hast raised her to me ; from the realms below 
 How hast thou brought her to the light of life ? 
 
 HERC. I fought with him that lords it o'er the shades. 
 
 ADM. Where with the gloomy tyrant didst thou fight ? 
 
 HERC. I lay in wait, and seized him at the tomb. 
 
 ADM. But wherefore doth my wife thus speechless stand? 
 
 HERC. It is not yet permitted that thou hear 
 Her voice addressing thee, till from the gods 
 That rule beneath she be unsanctified 
 With hallowed rites, and the third morn return. 
 But lead her in : and as thou'rt just in all 
 Besides, Admetus, see thou reverence strangers. 
 Farewell : I go t' achieve the destined toil 
 For the imperial son of Sthenelus. 
 
 ADM. Abide with us, and share my friendly hearth. 
 
 HERC. That time will come again ; this demands speed. 
 
 AD.M. Success attend thee ; safe mayst thou return. 
 Now to my citizens I give in charge, 
 And to each chief, that for this blest event 
 They institute the dance, let the steer bleed, 
 And the rich altars, as they pay their vows, 
 Breathe incense to the gods ; for now I rise 
 To better life, and grateful own the blessing. 
 
 CHOR. With various hand the gods dispense our fates ; 
 Now showering various blessings, which our hopes 
 Dared not aspire to; now controlling ills 
 We deemed inevitable ; thus the god 
 To these hath given an end exceeding thought. 
 Such is the fortune of this happy day.
 
 ELECTR A. 
 
 THE subject of this Drama is the same with that of the 
 Choephorae of ./Eschylus ; the disposition of it is different, as 
 might be expected from the different genius of the poets. The 
 reader, who was struck with the sublime conception, the glow- 
 ing imagery, and solemn magnificence of the Choephorae, will 
 here find his soul softened with compassion for the high-born 
 Electra forcibly wedded to a peasant, dwelling in a sordid 
 cottage, and compelled to the laborious offices of a menial 
 slave. Our own history gives us an example of the like unfeel- 
 ing insolence in the low-minded rulers of our unhappy kingdom 
 about the year 1648, who intended to apprentice the Princess 
 Elizabeth to a button-maker : the poor lady escaped their 
 malice by dying in prison at Carisbrooke Castle. The gentle- 
 ness of Electra in this humble state, and her faithful attention 
 to the domestic concerns of Auturgus, throw an amiableness 
 over her character, which neither ALschylus nor Sophocles, upon 
 their plans, could give her, and interest us warmly in her favour ; 
 and this is but a softer shade of the same "generous mind, the 
 same virtuous sense of duty, which shows itself so fierce and 
 determined in encouraging and assisting her brother to revenge 
 their father's murder. The three great poets have taken 
 different methods in the discovery of Orestes to his sister : in 
 /Eschylus this has most dignity, in Sophocles it is most affect- 
 ing, in Euripides most natural. In the circumstances which 
 lead to the agnition, as the critics call it, our poet is thought to 
 have reflected with an ill-natured severity on ^Eschylus. " C'est 
 une malice d'Euripide," says P. Brumoy, "pour tourner la recon-
 
 48 EURIPIDES. 
 
 noissance d'Eschyle en ridicule." If it be so, we are sorry for so 
 ungenerous a return for the many obligations he is under to his 
 great master ; but, after all, it may well be supposed that 
 the circumstances here reprobated were the popular tradition ; 
 for had ^Eschylus been left to his own invention, his rich 
 imagination would have formed something better ; and that 
 Euripides intended only to reject the weak proofs built on this 
 tradition, which, like the prophecy of Celsano and the completion 
 of it in the ^Ineid, could not be passed over unnoticed, we are 
 led to this supposition by the following circumstance. To the 
 surmise of the faithful preserver of Orestes, that he might have 
 returned in secret, and have paid these honours at the tomb of 
 his father, Electra says : 
 
 Unworthy of a wise man are thy words, 
 If thou canst think that to Mycenae's realms 
 My brother e'er with secret step will come, 
 Fearing ^gisthus. 
 
 This is consistent with the high spirit of Eleotra ; but she cen- 
 sures as unwise not only the circumstances alleged in proof 
 by the old man, but even the method dictated by the God of 
 Wisdom ; and probably the whole passage intends only to show 
 that Electra had no idea of her brother's return, and of course to 
 heighten her surprise and joy at the discovery. The circum- 
 stances of Clytemnestra's death are managed by Sophocles with 
 wonderful art : the scene, in which /Egisthus uncovers the body 
 expecting to have found that of Orestes, and instantly perceives 
 that vengeance is bursting upon him, is finely conceived, and 
 affords an excellent subject for picture ; but the consequence of 
 this is, that the death of ./Egisthus has nothing in it affecting . 
 he is a malefactor led to execution. vEschylus describes the 
 vindictive prince as rushing upon the adulterous murderer with 
 impatient fury : Euripides is long and minute in his account ; 
 some of the circumstances are pleasing, they all are curious, and 
 highly valuable, as giving an exact picture of the manners and 
 religion of the ancients. Euripides has with great judgment 
 preserved the characters of Orestes and Electra throughout 
 the drama, as they were at first designed by /Eschylus ; this 
 has not escaped the censure of some critics : but the poet is 
 defended with such strength of argument in the " Notes on the
 
 ELECTRA. 49 
 
 Art of Poetry," v. 127, that any attempt to a further vindication 
 here would be impertinent. 
 
 It may not be improper to observe that the word Auturgus 
 signifies a man who does his own work with his own hands, 
 and it is used by Euripides in that sense ; the translator hopes 
 to be excused for converting it into a proper name. 
 
 The scene is near the bounds of the Argive territory, a 
 mountainous country, and before the cottage of Auturgus. 
 
 AUTURGUS. 
 ELECTRA. 
 ORESTES. 
 PYLADES. 
 
 PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. 
 
 TUTOR. 
 MESSENGER. 
 
 CASTOR AND POLLUX. 
 
 CHORUS OF MYCENAEAN VIRGINS. 
 
 AUTURGUS. 
 
 THOU ancient glory of this land, famed stream 
 
 Of Inaches, thou sawst the mighty host, 
 
 When in a thousand ships to Phrygia's strand 
 
 The royal Agamemnon bore the war. 
 
 The Dardan monarch slain, the towers of Troy 
 
 And the proud city levelled with the ground, 
 
 To Argos he returned, and many spoils 
 
 From the barbarians rent triumphant fixed 
 
 In the high temples. There his toils were crowned 
 
 With conquest ; but by Clytemnestra's wiles, 
 
 His wife, and by ^Egisthus' murdering hands, 
 
 Son of Thyestes, in his house he died ; 
 
 Leaving the ancient sceptre, from the hand 
 
 Of Tantalus to him derived, he fell. 
 
 And now yEgisthus lords it <5'er the land, 
 
 His royal throne possessing, and his wife,
 
 50 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Daughter of Tyndarus. He, when for Troy 
 
 He sailed, his son Orestes in his house 
 
 And young Electra's budding beauties left. 
 
 Orestes, by /Egisthus marked for death, 
 
 The guardian of his father's youth by stealth 
 
 To Strophius bore, that in the Phocian land 
 
 He might protect him. In her father's house 
 
 Remained Electra : her, when youth's warm bloom 
 
 Glowed on her cheek, the high-born chiefs of Greece 
 
 In marriage sought : through fear lest she should bear 
 
 To any Argive sons that might revenge 
 
 The death of Agamemnon, in the house 
 
 ^Egisthus held her, and repulsed the suit 
 
 Of ev'ry wooer. But his gloomy fears 
 
 Still prompting that by stealth she might bear sons 
 
 To one of noble lineage, he resolved 
 
 To kill her ; but her mother, though her soul 
 
 Was fierce and ruthless, saved her from his hands : 
 
 She for her husband's murder had some plea 
 
 To urge, but dreaded from her children's blood 
 
 Public abhorrence. Then ^gisthus framed 
 
 These villainous designs : he offered gold, 
 
 The son of Agamemnon, from this land 
 
 Escaped, whoe'er would kill ; to me espoused 
 
 He gives Electra ; from Mycenae sprung 
 
 My parents, thus far no reproach is mine, 
 
 My race illustrious, but not blest with wealth, 
 
 And poverty obscures my noble birth. 
 
 To one thus sunk he gave her, that his fears 
 
 Might likewise sink ; for should she wed a man 
 
 Whose high rank gives him lustre, he might rouse 
 
 The murder of her father, sleeping now, 
 
 And vengeance then might on ^igisthus fall. 
 
 Yet, Venus be my witness, by my touch 
 
 She hath not been dishonoured ; she is still 
 
 A virgin". In my humble state I scorn 
 
 Such insult to the daughters of the great. 
 
 I grieve too for Orestes, hapless youth, 
 
 To me in words allied, should he return
 
 ELECTRA. 51 
 
 To Argos, and behold his sister placed 
 In marriage so unworthy of her birth. 
 This some may deem a folly, to receive 
 A virgin in my house, and touch her not ; 
 But let such know that by distorted rules 
 They measure continence, themselves depraved. 
 
 ELECTRA, AUTURGUS. 
 
 ELEC. O dark-browed Night, nurse of the golden stars, 
 In thee this vase sustaining on my head 
 I to the flowing river bend my steps 
 (Not by necessity to this compelled, 
 But to the gods to show the insolent wrongs 
 I suffer from /Egisthus), and my griefs 
 For my lost father to the wide extent 
 Of ether breathe : for from the royal house 
 Me my destructive mother hath driven forth, 
 To gratify her husband : having borne 
 T' ./Egisthus other children, she hath made 
 Me and Orestes outcasts from the house. 
 
 AUT. Why wilt thou thus, unhappy lady, toil, 
 For my sake bearing labours, nor desist 
 At my desire ? Not thus hast thou been trained. 
 
 ELEC. Thee equal to the gods I deem my friend ; 
 For in my ills thou hast not treated me 
 With insult. In misfortunes thus to find, 
 What I have found in thee, a gentle power 
 Lenient of grief, must be a mighty source 
 Of consolation. It behoves me then, 
 Far as my power avails, to ease thy toils, 
 That lighter thou mayst feel them, and to share 
 Thy labour, though unbidden : in the fields 
 Thou hast enough of work ; be it my task 
 Within to order well. The lab'rer, tired 
 Abroad, with pleasure to his house returns, 
 Accustomed all things grateful there to find. 
 
 AUT. Go then, since such thy will : nor distant far 
 The fountain from the house. At the first dawn
 
 52 EURIPIDES. 
 
 My bullocks yoked I to the field will drive, 
 And sow my furrows : for no idle wretch, 
 With the gods always in his mouth, can gain 
 Without due labour the support of life. 
 
 ORESTES, PYLADES. 
 
 ORES. O Pylades, thee first of all mankind 
 Faithful and friendly I esteem ; alone 
 Hast thou received Orestes, held me high 
 In thy dear love, thus with misfortunes pressed 
 And sufPring, as I suffer, dreadful ills, 
 Wrought by yEgisthus, whose accursed hand, 
 And my destructive mother joined her aid, 
 Murdered my father. But the Argive soil, 
 Commanded by the god's oracular voice, 
 No mortal conscious to my steps, I tread, 
 His murder on his murd'rers to avenge. 
 This night my father's tomb have I approached, 
 Poured the warm tear, presented my shorn locks, 
 And offered on the pyre the victim's blood, 
 Secret from those who lord it o'er this land. 
 The walls I enter not, a double charge 
 At once emprising ; to the Argive bounds 
 I come, that by the tyrant's spies if known 
 I to another's realms may soon retire ; 
 And seek my sister ; for they say that here 
 In marriage joined she dwells, a virgin now 
 No more : with her I would hold converse, hei 
 Take my associate in this deed, and learn 
 All that hath passed within the walls. But now, 
 For now the grey morn opes her radiant eye, 
 Retire we from this public path : perchance 
 Some ploughman, or some female slave, from whom 
 We may gain knowledge, may in sight appear. 
 And see, a female slave, her tresses shorn, 
 Bears from the spring her vase ; sit we awhile, 
 And question her, if haply from her words 
 We may learn aught for which we hither came.
 
 ELECTRA. 53 
 
 ELECTRA. 
 
 Strophe. 
 
 Begin, begin, for this the hour, 
 
 The mournful measures weeping pour. 
 
 Is there a wretch like me on earth ? 
 The royal Agamemnon gave me birth, 
 
 My mother Clytemnestra shame 
 
 Fall on that odious name ! 
 And me each tongue within Mycenae's walls 
 
 Th' unhappy, lost Electra calls. 
 
 My soul to grief a prey, 
 My hated life in anguish wastes away : 
 
 My tears for thee, my father, flow, 
 
 For in the shades below, 
 By cursed ^gisthus and his barb'rous wife 
 
 Ah me, ah me, my miseries ! 
 
 Basely deprived of life, 
 
 The royal Agamemnon lies. 
 ^ Yet once more raise the tearful strain, 
 The sweetly-mournful measures soothe my pain. 
 
 Antistrophe. 
 
 Begin, begin, for this the hour, 
 
 The mournful members weeping pour. 
 
 Unhappy brother, in what state, 
 What house is cruel servitude thy fate, 
 
 Thy sister, in those rooms confined 
 
 Once by her sire assigned 
 The chaste retirement of her happier years, 
 
 Thy wretched sister left to tears, 
 
 Tears which incessant flow 
 From the deep anguish of severest woe ? 
 
 O mayst thou come (O Jove, O Jove, 
 
 Hear from thy throne above !)
 
 54 EURIPIDES. 
 
 To soothe the pangs my tortured heart that rend : 
 T avenge thy father basely slain, 
 Mayst thou to Argos bend 
 Thy weary, wand'ring foot again. 
 Take from my head this vase, that high 
 
 May swell the mournful nightly melody. 
 
 Epode. 
 
 The dismal song, the song of death, 
 
 To thee, my father, will I raise, 
 
 To thee among the shades beneath : 
 
 So pass my mournful days. 
 
 For thee my bleeding breast I tear, 
 
 And beat my head, and rend my hair, 
 
 Shorn as an off 'ring to the dead : 
 
 Yes, poor Electra beat thy head. 
 
 As some broad-rolling stream along, 
 
 For his lost father torn away, 
 
 Caught in the wily net a prey, 
 
 The tuneful cygnet pours the song ; 
 
 So thee, my father, I lament, 
 
 In thy last bath deprived of breath, 
 
 Stretched on the bed of death : 
 
 So I deplore the curst intent 
 
 Formed 'gainst thy sad return from Troy, 
 
 The keen axe furious to destroy. 
 
 For thee no crown thy wife designed, 
 
 No festive wreath thy brows to bind, 
 
 But the relentless trenchant sword : 
 
 And, by her raging passions led, 
 
 Aids the base murd'rers deed abhorred, 
 
 Then takes him to her bed.
 
 ELECTRA. 55 
 
 ELECTRA, CHORUS. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Strophe i. 
 
 Daughter of Agamemnon, I with speed, 
 
 Electra, to thy rustic cottage fly : 
 
 For one, whose herds on these rude mountains feed, 
 
 A swain, on whose good faith we firm rely, 
 
 Came, from Mycenae came ; 
 
 The Argives, thus he says, proclaim 
 
 Three days of festal rites divine, 
 And all the virgins haste to Juno's shrine. 
 
 ELECTRA. 
 
 Strophe 2. 
 
 No more, my friends, the gorgeous vest, 
 Which in her happier hours Electra graced, 
 
 No more the gem in gold enchased, 
 With vivid radiance sparkling on my breast, 
 
 Delight my mind : my feet no more 
 
 The mazy-winding dance shall tread, 
 No more the train of Argive virgins lead. 
 
 In tears, ah me ! I melt away ; 
 In tears, sad solace of each wretched day, 
 
 My ceaseless mis'ries I deplore. 
 
 My sordid toils these locks defile, 
 
 Around me see these vestments vile : 
 Of Agamemnon's daughter this the fate ? 
 
 Where now my father's royal state ? 
 
 Where the proud glories of his name, 
 And Troy recording sad her conqueror's mighty fame ?
 
 56 EURIPIDES. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Antistrophe i. 
 
 Great is the goddess : go then, with us go ; 
 
 Receive whate'er thy beauties may improve, 
 
 The gold, the vests with various dyes that glow. 
 
 Thinkst thou with tears th' unhonoured gods to move ? 
 Not won by sighs their aid, 
 But by pure vows with rev'rence paid, 
 The gods, to crush thy foes, will send, 
 
 And blessings on thy future days t' attend. 
 
 ELECTRA. 
 Antistrophe 2. 
 
 My cries, my vows, no god will hear, 
 Nor heeded they my father's spouting gore. 
 
 Ah me ! the murdered I deplore, 
 And for the living exile pour the tear : 
 
 He, distant from his native land, 
 
 Wanders, poor outcast, o'er the earth, 
 And seeks mean refuge at some servile hearth, 
 
 Dragging from realm to realm his woes, 
 Though in his veins the blood of monarchs flows. 
 
 I, by oppression's iron hand 
 
 Driven from my father's royal seat, 
 
 Dwell in this low obscure retreat, 
 Here waste in toils my wretched life away, 
 
 Or o'er the rugged mountains stray: 
 
 Whilst, glorying in her impious deeds, 
 My mother to her bed the blood-stained murd'rer leads. 
 
 CHOR. The sister of thy mother, Helena, 
 Hath been the cause of many ills to Greece, 
 And to thy house. 
 
 ELEC. Ah me ! ye female train, 
 
 My measures I break off : some strangers, lodged
 
 ELECTRA. 57 
 
 Nigh to the cottage, from their ambush rise. 
 Fly by the path, I to the house will fly ; 
 Let us be swift t' escape their ruffian hands. 
 
 i 
 
 ORESTES, PYLADES, ELECTRA, CHORUS. 
 
 ORES. Stay, thou unhappy ; fear not aught from me. 
 ELEC. Thee, Phoebus, that I die not, I implore. 
 ORES. Others more hated would I rather kill. 
 ELEC. Away, nor touch one whom thou oughtst not touch. 
 ORES. There is not whom more justly I may touch. 
 ELEC. Why with thy sword in ambush near my house ? 
 ORES. Stay, hear; not vain thy stay thou soon shalt own. 
 ELEC. I stay ; the stronger thou, I in thy power. 
 ORES. Bearing thy brother's words to thee I come. 
 ELEC. Most welcome. Breathes he yet this vital air ? 
 ORES. He lives : I first would speak what brings thee joy. 
 ELEC. O, be thou blest for these most grateful words ! 
 ORES. To both in common this I give to share. 
 ELEC. Where is th' unhappy outcast wand'ring now ? 
 ORES. He wastes his life not subject to one state. 
 ELEC. Finds he with toil what life each day requires ? 
 ORES. Not so ; but mean the wand'ring exile's state. 
 ELEC. But with what message art thou from him charged ? 
 ORES. T' inquire, if living, where thou bearst thy griefs. 
 ELEC. First, then, observe my thin and wasted state. 
 ORES. Wasted with grief, so that I pity thee. 
 ELEC. Behold my head, its crisped honours shorn. 
 ORES. Mourning thy brother or thy father dead ? 
 ELEC. What can be dearer to my soul than these ? 
 ORES. Alas ! What deemst thou are thy brother's thoughts ? 
 ELEC. He, though far distant, is most dear to me. 
 ORES. Why here thy dwelling from the city far ? 
 ELEC. O stranger, in base nuptials I am joined. 
 ORES. I feel thy brother's grief. To one of rank ? 
 ELEC. Not as my father once to place me hoped. 
 ORES. That hearing I may tell thy brother ; speak, 
 ELEC. This is his house : in this I dwell remote. 
 ORES. This house some digger or some herdsman suits.
 
 58 EURIPIDES. 
 
 ELEC. Generous, though poor, in reverence me he holds. 
 
 ORES. To thee what reverence dqth thy husband pay ? 
 
 ELEC. He never hath presumed t' approach my bed. 
 
 ORES. Through sacred chastity, or from disdain ? 
 
 ELEC. Scorning my noble parents to disgrace. 
 
 ORES. How in such nuptials feels he not a pride ? 
 
 ELEC. Him, who affied me, not my lord he deems. 
 
 ORES. Thinking Orestes might revenge the wrong ? 
 
 ELEC. This too he fears ; yet modest is his mind. 
 
 ORES. A generous man, and one who merits much. 
 
 ELEC. If to his house the absent e'er returns. 
 
 ORES. But this debasement could thy mother brook ? 
 
 ELEC. Their husbands, not their childuen, wives regard. 
 
 ORES. Why did jEgisthus offer this base wrong ? 
 
 ELEC. Thus placing me, he wished my children weak. 
 
 ORES. That from thee no avengers might arise. 
 
 ELEC. For this design may vengeance on him fall. 
 
 ORES. That yet thou art a virgin doth he know ? 
 
 ELEC. He knows it not. This undisclosed we hold. 
 
 ORES. Are these, who hear us, faithful, and thy friends ? 
 
 ELEC. Never thy words or mine will they disclose. 
 
 ORES. What should Orestes do, if he return ? 
 
 ELEC. Canst thou ask this ? How base. The time now 
 
 calls 
 
 ORES. But how thy father's murd'rers should he slay ? 
 ELEC. Daring to do what they, who slew him, dared. 
 ORES. Couldst thou, with him, thy mother bear to kill ! 
 ELEC. With the same axe, by which my father fell. 
 ORES. This may I tell him, nnd thy soul resolved ? 
 ELEC. My mother's blood first shedding, might I die I 
 ORES. O, were Orestes nigh, to hear these words ! 
 ELEC. If seen, I should not know him, stranger, now. 
 ORES. No wonder, for when parted both were young. 
 ELEC. Nor by my friends, save one, would he be known, 
 ORES. Who bore him, as they say, by stealth from death ? 
 ELEC. The aged guardian of my father's youth. 
 ORES. Was thy dead father honoured with a tomb ? 
 ELEC. As he was honoured, from the house cast forth. 
 ORES. Alas the barbarous deed ! A sense of ills,
 
 ELECTRA. 59 
 
 Which strangers suffer, wounds the human heart. 
 
 But speak, that to thy brother I may bear, 
 
 By thee informed, words which perchance may wound 
 
 His ear, but which concerns him much to know. 
 
 Those, who have knowledge, feel the tender touch 
 
 Of pity, not th' unknowing ; yet to know 
 
 Too much is oft the bitter source of grief. 
 
 CHOR. My soul is with the same desire inflamed. 
 For, from the city distant, nought I know 
 Of the ills there ; I wish to be informed. 
 
 ELEC. I would speak, if I might ; and to a friend 
 May I not speak my sufifring father's wrongs, 
 And mine ? But, stranger, since to this discourse 
 Thou dost enforce me, I conjure thee tell 
 Orestes his calamities, and mine. 
 Tell him in what mean garb thou seest me clad, 
 How sordid, and beneath what lowly roof, 
 Born as I was to royalty, I lodge. 
 I, labouring at the loom the lengthened robe, 
 Shall want the vest to clothe my nakedness : 
 And, bearing water from the flowing fount, 
 No more partaker of the feast, no more 
 Myself a virgin, 'midst the virgin train 
 Leading the dance, to them I bid adieu ; 
 To Castor also bid adieu, to whom, 
 Ere to the gods advanced, I was betrothed, 
 As from the same illustrious lineage sprung. 
 Meantime my mother 'midst the Phrygian spoils 
 Sits on her throne, the Asiatic dames, 
 Made by my father's conquest slaves, attend 
 Her state, their rich idsean vests confined 
 With clasps of gold, my father's clodded gore 
 Yet putrid in the house ; and the same car, 
 In which my father rode, his murderer mounts 
 The sceptre, ensign of his kingly sway 
 O'er Greece in arms confederate, he. with pride 
 Grasps in his bloody hands. The monarch's tomb 
 Unhonoured nor libations hath received, 
 Nor myrtle bough ; no hallowed ornament
 
 60 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Hath dignified the pyre. Inflamed with wine 
 
 My mother's husband, the illustrious lord, 
 
 For so they call him, tramples on the earth 
 
 Insultingly where Agamemnon lies ; 
 
 And hurling 'gainst his monument a stone, 
 
 Thus taunts us with proud scorn : " Where is thy son, 
 
 Orestes where ? Right noble is thy tomb 
 
 Protected by his presence." Thus he mocks 
 
 The absent : but, O stranger, tell him this, 
 
 Suppliant I beg thee. Many give the charge, 
 
 And I interpret it ; my hands, my tongue, 
 
 My mind desponding with its grief, my head 
 
 Shorn of its tresses, and his father. Shame, 
 
 Base shame it were if, when his father's arm 
 
 Subdued the Trojans, he should want the power 
 
 Alone to hurl his vengeance on one man, 
 
 Now in youth's prime, and from a nobler sire. 
 
 CHOR. But see, the man, thy husband, to his toils 
 Giving a respite, hastens to his house. 
 
 AUTURGUS, ELECTRA, ORESTES, PYLADES, CHORUS. 
 
 AUT. Ha ! who these strangers, whom before my doors 
 I see ? Why come they to these rustic gates ? 
 Of me aught want they ? With young men to stand 
 Abroad, a woman's honour ill beseems. 
 
 ELEC. Thou faithful friend, let no suspicion touch 
 Thy mind : their converse truly shalt thou know. 
 These by Orestes charged, are come to me. 
 Strangers, forgive what he hath said amiss. 
 
 AUT. What say they ? Lives he ? Is he yet a man ? 
 
 ELEC. He lives, they say, and speak what wins my faith. 
 
 AUT. Remembers he his father, and thy wrongs ? 
 
 ELEC. This lives in hope : an exile's state is weak. 
 
 AUT. What from Orestes come they to relate ? 
 
 ELEC. He sent them secret to observe my ills. 
 
 AUT. Some they behold, and some thou mayst relate. 
 
 ELEC. They know them, of each circumstance informed. 
 
 AUT. Then long ago my lowly doors to them
 
 ELECTRA. 61 
 
 Should have been opened. Enter ye the house ; 
 
 And for your welcome tidings you shall share 
 
 Such hospitable viands as the stores 
 
 Of my poor mansion yield. You, who attend, 
 
 What for their journey needful they have brought 
 
 Bear in : nor you refuse ; for you are come 
 
 Friends to a friendly man ; poor though I am, 
 
 A sordid spirit never will I show. 
 ORES. Now by the gods, is this the man who holds 
 
 Thy marriage in such holy reverence, 
 
 Scorning to do Orestes shameful wrong? 
 
 ELEC. The poor Electra's husband this is called. 
 ORES. Nature hath giv'n no outward mark to note 
 
 The generous mind : the qualities of men 
 
 To sense are indistinct. I oft have seen 
 
 One of no worth a noble father shame, 
 
 And from vile parents worthy children spring, 
 
 Meanness oft grov'lling in the rich man's mind, 
 
 And oft exalted spirits in the poor. 
 
 How then discerning shall we judge aright ? 
 
 By riches ? Ill would they abide the test ; 
 
 By poverty ? On poverty awaits 
 
 This ill, through want it prompts to sordid deeds; 
 
 Shall we pronounce by arms ? But who can judge, 
 
 By looking on the spear, the dauntless heart ? 
 
 Such judgment is fallacious ; for this man, 
 
 Nor great among the Argives, nor elate 
 
 With the proud honours of his house, his rank 
 
 Plebeian, hath approved his liberal heart. 
 
 Will you not then learn wisdom, you whose minds 
 
 Error with false presentments leads astray ? 
 
 Will you not learn by manners and by deeds 
 
 To judge the noble ? Such discharge their trust 
 
 With honour to the state, and to their house : 
 
 Mere flesh, without a spirit, is no more 
 
 Than statues in the forum : nor in war 
 
 Doth the strong arm the dang'rous shock abide 
 
 More than the weak : on nature this depends, 
 
 And an intrepid mind. But we accept
 
 62 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Thy hospitable kindness : for the son 
 Of Agamemnon, for whose sake we come, 
 Present or not, is worthy : to this house 
 Go, my attendants ; I must enter it : 
 This man, though poor, more cheerful than the rich . 
 Receives me ; to his kindness thanks are due. 
 More would it joy me if thy brother, blest 
 . Himself, could lead me to his prosperous house ; 
 Yet haply he may come ; th' oracular voice 
 Of Phoebus firmly will be ratified : 
 Lightly of human prophecies I deem. 
 
 [ORESTES and his attendants enter the house. 
 
 CHOR. Ne'er till this hour, Electra, were our hearts 
 So warmed with joy : for fortune now perchance, 
 Though slow in her advance, may firmly stand. 
 
 ELEC. Why, thou unhappy, of thy humble house 
 Knowing the penury, wouldst thou receive 
 Such guests, of rank superior to thine own ? 
 
 Aux. Why not ? If they are noble, so their port 
 Denotes them, will they not alike enjoy 
 Contentment, be their viands mean or rich ? 
 
 ELEC. Since thou hast done what suits not thy low state, 
 To my loved father's aged guardian go ; 
 He near the river Tanus, which divides 
 The realms of Argos from the Spartan land, 
 An outcast from the city, leads his herds ; 
 Entreat him to attend thee to thy house, 
 Supplying what may entertain thy guests. 
 He will rejoice, presenting to the gods 
 His vows, when he shall hear the son, preserved 
 By him, yet lives ; for from my father's house 
 We from my mother nothing should receive ; 
 And bitter were the tidings, should she learn, 
 What most would grieve her, that Orestes lives. 
 
 AUT. These words, since such thy pleasure, I will bear 
 To the old man. But enter thou the house 
 With'speed, and all things set in order there ; 
 For many things a woman, be her thoughts 
 Intent, may find to form the grateful feast;
 
 ELECTRA. 63 
 
 And in the house such plenty yet remains, 
 
 As for one day may well supply their wants. 
 
 Yet on such subjects when my thoughts are turned, 
 
 I deem of wealth as having mighty power 
 
 To give the stranger welcome, and to aid 
 
 The body when afflicted with disease ; 
 
 But of small moment to the daily food 
 
 Which nature craves ; for to supply her wants 
 
 An equal measure serves the rich and poor. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Strophe i. 
 
 Ye gallant ships, that o'er the main 
 
 Rushed with innumerous oars, 
 Dancing amidst the Nereid train 
 To Troy's detested shores, 
 Your dark-beaked prows, whilst wanton round 
 The pipe enamoured dolphins bound, 
 
 The son of Thetis pleased to guide 
 Achilles, leaping on the strand 
 (With Agamemnon's martial band), 
 
 Where Simois rolls his tide. 
 
 Antistrophe I. 
 
 The Nereids left th' Eubcean shore, 
 
 And arms divinely bright 
 For Vulcan's golden anvils bore : 
 
 O'er Pelion's rocky height, 
 O'er sacred Ossa's wood-crowned brow, 
 Which shows the nymphs the plains below, 
 
 They passed, the warlike father where 
 Th' heroic son of Thetis bred, 
 The pride of Greece, by glory led 
 Th' Atridse's toils to share.
 
 64 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Strophe 2. 
 
 One, who the spoils of Troy had shared, 
 I saw in Nauplia's port, and raptured hung, 
 
 O son of Thetis, on his tongue, 
 Whilst he the glories of thy shield declared ; 
 
 On its bright orb what figures rise, 
 
 Terrific to the Phrygians' eyes : 
 Grasping the Gorgon's head, the verge around, 
 
 With waving wings his sandals bound, 
 A sculptured Perseus rises o'er the main : 
 
 Protector of the pastured plain, 
 
 Hermes, the messenger of Jove, 
 Seems with the favoured chief his golden wings to move. 
 
 Antistrophe. 2. 
 
 Full in the midst the orb of day 
 In all its radiance blazes through the sky ; 
 
 The fiery coursers seem to fly, 
 And silent rolling o'er the ethereal way 
 
 The stars refulgent through the night, 
 
 To Hector's eyes a dreadful sight ; 
 High on the helmet Sphinxes glow in gold, 
 
 Who, whilst their prey their talons hold, 
 In triumph seem their barb'rous song to pour 
 
 The richly burnished hauberk o'er ; 
 
 Breathing fierce flames, with horrid speed 
 The dire Chimaera springs to seize Pirene's steed. 
 
 Epode. 
 
 Dreadful the blood-stained spear ; the car 
 Four coursers whirl amidst the war, 
 Behind them clouds of dust black-rising roll. 
 Such martial chiefs the monarch led ; 
 Yet by a hand accursed he bled, 
 By his wife's hand : her noble blood 
 From the rich streams of Tyndarus flowed,
 
 ELECTRA. 65 
 
 But deeds of horror darken on her soul. 
 
 Yet may the gods' avenging power 
 
 On thee their righteous fury shower ; 
 
 Yet may thy neck the falchion wound, 
 Yet may I see thy blood distain the ground ! 
 
 OLD TU-TOR, ELECTRA, CHORUS. 
 
 TUT. Where is my honoured mistress, my loved child, 
 Daughter of Agamemnon, once my charge ? 
 Steep to her house and difficult th' ascent ; 
 With pnin my age-enfeebled feet advance, 
 Yet lab'ring on-.vards with bent knees I move 
 To seek my friends. O daughter, for mine eyes 
 Before the house behold thee, I am come, 
 Bringing this tender youngling from my fold, 
 These garlands, from the vases these fresh curds, 
 And this small flask of old and treasured wine 
 Of grateful odour; scanty the supply, 
 Yet, with ati^ht weaker if allayed, the cup 
 Will yield a grateful bev'rage. Let one bear i 
 
 Into the house these presents for thy guests. 
 I with these tattered vests meanwhile will wipe 
 Mine eyes, for they are wet with gushing tears. 
 
 ELEC. Why, good old man, thus wet thy tearful eyes ? 
 After this length of time dost thou recall 
 The memory of my ills? or mourn the flight 
 Of poor Orestes, or my father's fate, 
 Whom, in thy hands sustaining, once thy care 
 Nurtured, to thee and to thy friends in vain ? 
 
 TUT. In vain: but this my soul could not support; 
 For to his tomb, as on the way I came, 
 I turned aside, and falling on the ground, 
 Alone and unobserved, indulged my tears ; 
 Then of the wine, brought for thy stranger guests, , 
 
 Made a libation, and around the tomb 
 Placed myrtle branches ; on the pyre I saw 
 A sable ewe, yet fresh the victim's blood, 
 And clust'ring auburn locks shorn from some head : 
 
 c
 
 66 EURIPIDES. 
 
 I marvelled, O my child, what man had dared 
 Approach the tomb, for this no Argive dares : 
 Perchance with secret step thy brother came, 
 And paid these honours to his father's tomb. 
 But view these locks, compare them with thine own, 
 Whether like thine their colour : nature loves 
 In those who from one father draw their blood 
 In many points a likeness to preserve. 
 
 ELEC. Unworthy of a wise man are thy words, 
 If thou canst think that to Mycenae's realms 
 My brother e'er with secret step will come, 
 Fearing >gisthus : then between our locks 
 What can th' agreement be ? To manly toils 
 He in the rough palaestra hath been trained, 
 Mine by the comb are softened ; so that hence 
 Nothing may be inferred : besides, old man, 
 Tresses like-coloured often mayst thou find 
 Where not one drop of kindred blood is shared. 
 
 TUT. Trace but his footsteps, mark th' impression, see 
 If of the same dimensions with thy feet. 
 
 ELEC. How can th' impression of his foot be left 
 On hard and rocky ground ? But were it so, 
 Brother and sister never can have foot 
 Of like dimensions : larger is the man's. 
 
 TUT. But hath thy brother, should he come, no vest 
 Which thou wouldst know, the texture of thy hands, 
 In which, when snatched from death, he was arrayed ? 
 
 ELEC. Knowst thou not, when my brother from this land 
 Was saved, I was but young ? But were his vests 
 Wrought by my hands, then, infant as he was, 
 How could he now, in his maturer age, 
 Be in the same arrayed, unless his vests 
 Grew with his person's growth ? No ; at the tomb 
 Some stranger, touched with pity, sheared his locks, 
 Or native, by the tyrant's spies unmarked. 
 
 TUT. Where are these strangers ? I would see them : much 
 Touching thy brother wish I to inquire. 
 
 ELEC. See, from the house with hast'ning step they come.
 
 ELECTRA. 67 
 
 ORESTES, PYLADES, ELECTRA, TUTOR, CHORUS. 
 
 TUT. Their port is noble : but th' exterior form 
 Oft cheats the eye ; many of noble port 
 Are base : yet will I bid the strangers hail. 
 
 ORES. Hail, hoary sire ! Electra, of what friend 
 Doth chance present us the revered remains? 
 
 ELEC. The guardian, strangers, of my father's youth. 
 
 ORES. Is this the man who bore thy brother hence ? 
 
 ELEC. The man who saved him this, if yet he lives. 
 
 ORES. Why doth he scan me with that curious eye, 
 As if inspecting some bright impress marked 
 On silver ? Some resemblance doth he trace ? 
 
 ELEC. In thee he pleased may mark my brother's years. 
 
 ORES. A much-loved man. Why wheels he round me thus? 
 
 ELEC. I too am struck with wonder, seeing this. 
 
 TUT. My dear, my honoured child, address the gods. 
 
 ELEC. For what ? Some absent, or some present good ? 
 
 TUT. To hold the treasure, which the god presents. 
 
 ELEC. See, I address the gods : what wouldst thou say ? 
 
 TUT. Look now on him, my child, that dearest youth. 
 
 ELEC. I feared before thy senses were not sound. 
 
 TUT. My sense not sound, when I Orestes see ! 
 
 ELEC. Why speakest thou what all my hopes exceeds ? 
 
 TUT. In him beholding Agamemnon's son. 
 
 ELEC. What mark hast thou observed, to win my faith ? 
 
 TUT. That scar above his eyebrow, from a fall 
 Imprinted deep, as in his father's house 
 He long ago, with thee, pursued a hind. 
 
 ELEC. I see the mark remaining from his fall. 
 
 TUT. Why the most dear delayst thou yet t* embrace ? 
 
 ELEC. No longer now will I delay : the marks 
 By thee discovered are persuasive proofs. 
 O thou at length returned, beyond my hopes 
 Thus I embrace thee. 
 
 ORES. And my arms at last 
 
 Thus fondly clasp thee. 
 
 ELEC. This I never thought ; 
 
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 ORES. Nor could I hope it. 
 ELEC. Art thou he indeed ? 
 
 ORES. Alone to thee in arm alliance joined, 
 If well this net, my present task, I draw. 
 
 ELEC. I am assured ; or never must we more 
 Believe that there are gods, if impious wrongs 
 Triumphant over justice bear the sway. 
 
 CHOR. Yes, thou art come, O lingering day, 
 At length art come, and beaming bright 
 Showst to Mycenae's state his glorious light, 
 Who, from his father's palace chased, 
 A wretched wand'rer long disgraced, 
 Cheers us with his returning ray. 
 Some god, some god, my royal friend, 
 Back our O'.vn radiant victory leads. 
 Raise then thy hands, and to the skies 
 Let for thy brother suppliant vows arise, 
 That, as with daring foot he treads, 
 Success, success may on his steps attend. 
 ORES. So may it be. With joy thy dear embrace 
 I now receive : at length the time will come 
 When it shall be repeated. But, old man, 
 For opportune thy coming, tell me now 
 What I shall do on the base murd'rer's head, 
 And on my mother's, who impurely shares 
 His nuptial bed. t' avenge my father's death. 
 Have I no friend at Argos ? not one left 
 Benevolent ? Are, with my fortunes, all 
 Entirely lost ? To whom shall I apply ? 
 Doth the night suit my purpose, or the day ? 
 Or which way shall I turn against my foes ? 
 
 TUT. Amidst thy ruined fortunes, O my son, 
 Thou hast no friend. Where shall the man be found 
 Prompt in a prosp'rous or an adverse state 
 Alike to share ? But learn this truth from me, 
 For of thy friends thou wholly art bereft, 
 Nor doth e'en hope remain ; in thine own hand 
 Now, and in fortune, thou hast all wherewith 
 To gain thy father's house and regal state.
 
 ELECTRA. 69 
 
 ORES. What shall we do t' effect this glorious end ? 
 
 TUT. ^Egisthus and thy mother thou must kill. 
 
 ORES. For that I come : but how obtain that crown ? 
 
 TUT. Thou canst not enter, if thou wouldst, the walls. 
 
 ORES. With guards defended, and with spear-armed hands ? 
 
 TUT. Ay ; for he fears thee, nor untroubled sleeps. 
 
 ORES. Well ; let thine age some counsel then impart. 
 
 TUT. Hear me ; this now hath to my thought occurred. 
 
 ORES. Mayst thou point out and I perceive some good ! 
 
 TUT. I saw ./Egisthus, hither as I came. 
 
 ORES. I am attentive to thee : in what place ? 
 
 TUT. Near to those meadows where his coursers feed. 
 
 ORES. What doing ? Hope arises from despair. 
 
 TUT. A feast, it seems, preparing to the Nymphs. 
 
 ORES. Grateful for children born, or vows for more ? 
 
 TUT. I know but this, the victims were prepared. 
 
 ORES. With him what men ? Or with his slaves alone ? 
 
 TUT. No Argive there, but his domestic train. 
 
 ORES. Is there who would discover me, if seen ? 
 
 TUT. No : these are slaves who never saw thy face. 
 
 ORES. To me, if I prevail, they might be friends. 
 
 TUT. Such the slave's nature : but this favours thee. 
 
 ORES. How to his person near shall I approach ? 
 
 TUT. Beneath his eye pass when the victims bleed. 
 
 ORES. That way, it seems, some pastured fields are his. 
 
 TUT. That he may call thee to partake the feast. 
 
 ORES. A bitter guest, if so it please the gods. 
 
 TUT. Then, as th' occasion points, thy measures form. 
 
 ORES. Well hast thou said. But where my mother now ? 
 
 TUT. At Argo's ; but the feast she soon will grace. 
 
 ORES. Why not together with her husband come ? 
 
 TUT. Dreading the people's just reproach, she stayed. 
 
 ORES. She knows then the suspicions of the state ? 
 
 TUT. She does : the impious woman all abhor. 
 
 ORES. How then together shall I slay them both ? 
 
 ELEC, I will form measures for my mother's death. 
 
 ORES. Fortune shall guide them to a good event. 
 
 ELEC. May she in this be aiding to us both ! 
 
 ORES. It shall be so : but what dost thou devise ?
 
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 ELEC. To Clytemnestra go, old man, and say 
 To a male child Electra hath giVn birth. 
 
 TUT. That she long since, or lately bore this child ? 
 
 ELEC. Tell her the days require the lustral rites. 
 
 ORES. And how thy mother's death doth this effect ? 
 
 ELEC. Hearing my child-bed illness, she will come. 
 
 TUT. She hath no tenderness for thee, my child. 
 
 ELEC. Nay, my parturient honours she will weep. 
 
 TUT. Perchance she may : but brief thy purpose speak. 
 
 ELEC. Death, certain death awaits her, if she comes. 
 
 TUT. Within these gates then let her set her feet. 
 
 ELEC. Soon to the gates of Pluto shall she turn. 
 
 TUT. Might I see this, with pleasure I would die. 
 
 ELEC. First then, old man, conduct him to the place. 
 
 TUT. The hallowed victims where ^Egisthus slays ? 
 
 ELEC. Then meet my mother, and relate my words. 
 
 TUT. That she shall think them uttered by thy lips. 
 
 ELEC. Now is thy task : by thee he first must bleed. 
 
 ORES. Had I a guide, this instant would I go. 
 
 TUT. Thy steps with ready zeal I will direct. 
 
 ORES. God of my country, god of vengeance, Jove ! 
 O, pity us ! Our sufferings pity claim. 
 
 ELEC. Pity us, for our race from thee we draw ! 
 
 ORES. And thou, whose altars at Mycenae blaze, 
 Imperial Juno, give us victory, 
 If in a righteous cause we ask thy aid ! 
 
 ELEC. O, give us to avenge our father's death ! 
 
 ORES. And thou, my father, who beneath the earth 
 Hast thy dark dwelling, through unholy deeds 
 And thou, O Earth, to whom I stretch my hands, 
 Great queen protect thy children, O protect 
 Thy most dear children : come, and with thee bring, 
 To aid our cause, each mighty dead, that shook 
 The spear with thee, and with thee conquered Troy ! 
 Hearst thou, so foully by my mother wronged, 
 And all, the impious murderers who abhor ? 
 
 ELEC. All this, I know, -my father hears ; but now 
 The time demands thee. Go ! By thy bold hand, 
 I charge thee, let the vile yEgisthus die :
 
 ELECTRA. 7! 
 
 For in the fatal contest shouldst thou fall, 
 My life too ends ; nor say thou that I live, 
 For I will plunge the sword into my throat. 
 This go I to prepare. If glad report 
 Of thy success arrive, then all the house 
 Shall echo to my joy : but shouldst thou die, 
 All otherwise. Thou hearst what I resolve. 
 
 ORES. I know it all. 
 
 ELEC. In this behoves thee much 
 
 To be a man. Ye women, let your voice 
 Give signal, like a flaming beacon, how 
 The contest ends : I will keep watch within, 
 Holding the keen sword ready in my hands ; ' 
 For never shall my body from my foes, 
 If I must fall, indecent outrage bear. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Strophe i. 
 
 The Argive mountains round, 
 'Mongst tales of ancient days 
 From age to age recorded, this remains : 
 Tuned to mellifluous lays 
 Pan taught his pipe to sound, 
 And as he breathed the sprightly swelling strains, 
 The beauteous ram with fleece of gold, 
 God of shepherds on he drove. 
 The herald from the rock above 
 Proclaims, " Your monarch's wonders to behold, 
 Wonders to sight, from which no terrors flow, 
 Go, Mycenaeans, to th' assembly go." 
 With rev'rence they obey the call, 
 And fill th' Atridae's spacious hall. 
 
 Antistrophe i. 
 
 Its gates with gold o'erlaid 
 Wide oped each Argive shrine,
 
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 And from the altars hallowed flames arise ; 
 Amidst the rites divine, 
 Joying the Muse to aid, 
 
 Breathed the brisk pipe its sweet notes to the skies ; 
 Accordant to the tuneful strain 
 Swelled the loud acclaiming voice, 
 Now with Thyestes to rejoice : 
 He, all on fire the glorious prize to gain, 
 With secret love the wife of Atreus won, 
 And thus the shining wonder made his own ; 
 Then to th' assembly vaunting cried, 
 " Mine is the rich Ram's golden pride." 
 
 Strophe 2. 
 \ 
 
 Then, oh then, indignant Jove 
 , Bade the bright sun backward move, 
 And the golden orb of day, 
 And the morning's orient ray : 
 Glaring o'er the western sky 
 Hurled his rudely lightnings fly : 
 Clouds, no more to fall in rain, 
 Northward roll their deep'ning train : 
 Libyan Ammon's thirsty seat, 
 Withered with the scorching heat, 
 Feels nor showers nor heavenly dews 
 Grateful moisture round diffuse. 
 
 Antistrophc 2. 
 
 Fame hath said (but light I hold 
 What the voice of fame hath told) 
 That the sun, retiring far, 
 Backward rolled his golden car, 
 And his vital heat withdrew, 
 Sick'ning man's bold crimes to view. 
 Mortals, when such tales they hear, 
 Tremble with a holy fear,
 
 ELECTRA. 73 
 
 And th' offended gods adore : 
 She, this noble pair who bore, 
 Dared to murder, deed abhorred ! 
 This forgot, her royal lord. 
 
 CHOR. Ah me, ah me ! Heard you a noise, my friends ? 
 Or doth imagination startle me 
 With vain alarms ? Not indistinct the sounds, 
 Like Jove's low-mutt'ring thunder, roll along. 
 Come from the house, revered Electra, come. 
 
 ELECTRA, CHORUS. 
 
 ELEC. What hath befall'n, my friends, what danger comes ? 
 CHOR. This only know I, death is in that noise. 
 ELEC. I heard it, distant, yet it reached my ear. 
 CHOR. The sound comes rolling from afar, yet plain. 
 ELEC. Comes from an Argive, or my friends, the groan ? 
 CHOR. I know not : for confused the voices rise. 
 ELEC. This must to me be death ; why then delay ? 
 CHOR. Forbear : that clear thou mayst thy fortunes know. 
 ELEC. No : we are vanquished : none with tidings comes. 
 CHOR. They will : not light t' effect a monarch's death. 
 
 MESSENGER, ELECTRA, CHORUS. 
 
 MESS. To you, ye virgins of Mycenae, joy 
 I bring to all his friends my message speaks : 
 Orestes is victorious, on the ground 
 jEgisthus, Agamemnon's murd'rer, lies. 
 Behoves you then address th' immortal gods. 
 
 ELEC. And who art thou ? How wilt thou prove thy truth ? 
 
 MESS. Thy brother's servant knowst thou not in me ? 
 
 ELEC. O thou most welcome, through my fears I scarce 
 Distinguished thee : I recognize thee now. 
 What, is my father's hated murd'rer dead ? 
 
 MESS. Twice, what thou wishest, I his death announce. 
 
 CHOR. All-seeing justice, thou at length art come.
 
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 ELEC. What was the manner of his death ? How fell 
 This vile son of Thyestes ? I would know. 
 
 MESS. Departing from this house, the level road 
 We entered soon, marked by the chariot-wheel 
 On either side. Mycenae's noble king 
 Was there, amidst his gardens with fresh streams 
 Irriguous walking, and the tender boughs 
 Of myrtles, for a wreath to bind his head, 
 He cropt. He saw us ; he addressed us thus 
 Aloud : " Hail, strangers ! Who are ye, and whence, 
 Come from what country ?" Then Orestes said, 
 <( Thessalians, victims to Olympian Jove 
 We, at the stream of Alpheus, go to slay." 
 The king replied, " Be now my guests, and share 
 The feast with me ; a bullock to the Nymphs 
 I sacrifice ; at morn's first dawn arise, 
 Then you shall go : but enter now my house." 
 Thus as he spoke, he took us by the hand, 
 And led us nothing loth : beneath his roof, 
 Soon as we came, he bade his slaves prepare 
 Baths for the strangers, that the altars nigh, 
 Beside the lustral ewers, they might stand : 
 Orestes then, " With lavers from the pure 
 And living stream we lately have been cleansed : 
 But with thy citizens these rites to share, 
 If strangers are permitted, we, O king, 
 Are ready, to thy hospitable feast 
 Nothing averse." The converse here had end. 
 Their spears, with which they guard the king, aside 
 Th' attendants laid ; and to their office all 
 Applied their hands : some led the victim, some 
 The basket bore, some raised the flames, and placed 
 The cauldrons on the hearth : the house resounds. 
 Thy mother's husband on the altars cast 
 The salted cakes, and thus addressed his vows : 
 " Ye Nymphs that haunt the rocks, these hallowed rites 
 Oft let me pay, and of my royal spouse 
 Now absent, both by fortune blest as now, 
 And let our foes, as now, in ruin lie "
 
 ELECTRA. 75 
 
 Thee and Orestes naming. But my lord 
 Far other vows addressed, but gave his words 
 No utt'rance, to regain his father's house. 
 yEgisthus then the sacrificing sword 
 Took from the basket, from the bullock's front 
 To cut the hair, which on the hallowed fire 
 With his right hand he threw, and, as his slaves 
 The victim held, beneath its shoulder plunged 
 The blade ; then turning to thy brother spoke : 
 " Amongst her noble arts Thessalia boasts 
 To rein the fiery courser, and with skill 
 The victim's limbs to sever. Stranger, take 
 The sharp-edged steel, and show that fame reports 
 Of the Thessalians truth." The Doric blade 
 Of tempered metal in his hand he grasped, 
 And from his shoulders threw his graceful robe ; 
 Then, to assist him in the toilsome task, 
 Chose Pylades, and bade the slaves retire. 
 The victim's foot he held, and its white flesh, 
 His hand extending, bared, and stript the hide 
 Ere round the course the chariot twice could roll, 
 And laid the entrails open. In his hands 
 The fate-presaging parts ^gisthus took 
 Inspecting : in the entrails was no lobe ; 
 The valves and cells the gall containing show 
 Dreadful events to him that viewed them near ; 
 Gloomy his visage darkened. But my lord 
 Asked whence his saddened aspect. He replied, 
 " Stranger, some treachery from abroad I fear ; 
 Of mortal men Orestes most I hate, 
 The son of Agamemnon. To my house 
 He is a foe." <; Wilt thou," replied my lord, 
 " King of this state, an exile's treachery dread ? 
 But that, these omens leaving, we may feast, 
 Give me a Phthian for this Doric blade, 
 The breast asunder I will cleave." He took 
 The steel, and cut. ^gisthus, yet intent, 
 Parted the entrails ; and as low he bowed 
 His head, thy brother, rising to the stroke,
 
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 Drove through his back the pond'rous axe, and rived 
 The spinal joints. His heaving body writhed 
 And quivered struggling in the pangs of death. 
 The slaves beheld, and instant snatched their spears, 
 Many 'gainst two contesting ; but my lord 
 And Pylades with dauntless courage stood 
 Opposed, and shook their spears. Orestes then 
 Thus spoke: " I come not to this state a foe, 
 Nor to my servants ; but my father's death 
 I on his murd'rer have avenged. You see 
 Th' unfortunate Orestes ; kill me not, 
 My father's old attendants." At those words 
 They all restrained their spears ; and he was known 
 By one grown hoary in the royal house. 
 Crowns on thy brother's head they instant placed, 
 With shouts of joy. He comes, and with him brings 
 Proof of his daring, not a Gorgon's head, 
 But, whom thou hatest, ^Egisthus ; blood for blood, 
 Bitter requital, on the dead is fall'n. 
 CHOR. Now for the dance, my friend, thy foot prepare, 
 
 Now with joy-enraptured tread, 
 
 Light as the hind that seems to bound in air, 
 
 The sprightly measures lead. 
 
 Thy brother comes, and on his brows 
 
 A crown hath conquest placed : 
 
 A wreath so glorious ne'er the victor graced 
 
 Where famed Alpheiis flows. 
 
 Come then, and with my choral train 
 
 To Conquest raise the joyful strain. 
 ELEC. O light, and thou resplendent orb of day, 
 O earth, and night which I beheld before, 
 Now I view freely, freely now I breathe, 
 Now that ^Egisthus, by whose murd'ring hand 
 My father fell, is dead. Whate'er my house 
 To grace the head contains, I will bring forth, 
 My friends, and crown my brother's conq'ring brows. 
 CHOR. Whate'er of ornament thy house contains 
 
 Bring, to grace thy brother's head. 
 
 My choir the dance, accorded to sweet strains
 
 ELECTRA. 77 
 
 Dear to the Muse, shall lead. 
 
 For now our kings, whose honoured hand 
 
 The sceptre justly swayed, 
 
 Low in the dust th' oppressive tyrant laid, 
 
 Again shall rule the land. 
 
 Rise then, my voice, with cheerful cries, 
 
 Attempered to thy triumph rise. 
 
 ELECTRA, ORESTES, PYLADES, CHORUS. 
 
 ELEC. O glorious victor, from a father sprung 
 Victorious in th' embattled fields of Troy, 
 Orestes, for thy brows receive this crown. 
 From the vain contest of the length'ned course 
 Thou comest not, but victorious o'er thy foe, 
 ^Egisthus slain, by whom thy father bled, 
 And I have been undone. Thou too, brave youth, 
 Trained by a man most pious, in his toils 
 Faithful associate, Pylades, receive 
 From me this wreath ; for thine an equal share 
 Of danger. Ever let me hold you blessed. 
 
 ORES. First, of this glorious fortune deem the gods, 
 Electra, sov'reign rulers ; then to me, 
 The minister of fortune and the gods, 
 Give the due prnise. I come not to relate 
 That I have slain ^Egisthus : deeds shall speak 
 For me ; a proof to all, his lifeless corse 
 I bring thee : treat it as thy soul inclines : 
 Cast it by rav'nous beasts to be devoured, 
 Or to the birds, the children of the air, 
 Fix it, impaled, a prey: the tyrant now, 
 jE^isthus, is thy slave, once called thy lord. 
 
 ELEC. Shame checks my tongue : yet something would I 
 speak. 
 
 ORES. What wouldst thou ? Speak : thy fears are vanished 
 now. 
 
 ELEC. I fear t' insult the dead, lest censures rise. 
 
 ORES. Not one of all mankind would censure thee. 
 
 ELEC. Hard to be pleased our city, prompt to blame.
 
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 ORES. Speak what thou wouldst, my sister; for to him 
 Inexpiable enmity we bear. 
 
 ELEC. Let me then speak : but where shall I begin 
 Thy insults to recount ? With what conclude ? 
 Or how pursue the train of my discourse ? 
 I never with the opening morn forbore 
 To breathe my silent plaints, which to thy face 
 I wished to utter, from my former fears 
 If e'er I should be free : I now am free. 
 Now, to thee living what I wished to speak, 
 I will recount. Thou hast destroyed my hopes, 
 Made me an orphan, him and me bereft 
 Of a dear father, by no wrongs enforced. 
 My mother basely wedding, thou hast slain 
 The glorious leader of the Grecian arms, 
 Yet never didst thou tread the fields of Troy. 
 Nay, such thy folly, thou couldst hope to find 
 My mother, shouldst thou wed her, nought of ill 
 To thee intending : hence my father's bed 
 By thee was foully wronged. But let him know 
 Who with forbidden love another's wife 
 Corrupts, then by necessity constrained 
 Receives her as his own, should he expect 
 To find that chastity preserved to him, 
 Which to her former bed was not preserved, 
 He must be wretched from his frustrate hope. 
 And what a life of misery didst thou lead, 
 Though not by thee deemed ill ? Thy conscious mind 
 Of thy unholy nuptials felt the guilt : 
 My mother knew that she an impious man 
 In thee had wedded ; and, polluted both, 
 Thou hadst her fortune, she thy wickedness. 
 'Mongst all the Argives this had fame divulged, 
 The man obeys the wife, and not the wife 
 Her husband : shameful this, when in the house 
 The woman sovereign rules, and not the man. 
 And when of children speaks the public voice 
 As from the mother, not the father sprung, 
 To me it is unpleasing. He who weds
 
 ELECTRA. 79 
 
 A wife of higher rank and nobler blood, 
 
 Sinks into nothing, in her splendour lost. 
 
 This truth unknown, thy pride was most deceived, 
 
 Thyself as great thou vauntedst, in the power 
 
 Of riches vainly elevate ; but these 
 
 Are nothing, their enjoyment frail and brief; 
 
 Nature is firm, not riches ; she remains 
 
 For ever, and triumphant lifts her head. 
 
 But unjust wealth, which sojourns with the base, 
 
 Glitters for some short space, then flies away. 
 
 To women thy demeanour I shall pass 
 
 Unmentioned, for to speak it ill beseems 
 
 A virgin's tongue ; yet I shall make it known 
 
 By indistinct suggestion. Arrogance 
 
 Swelled thy vain mind, for that the royal house 
 
 Was thine, and beauty graced thy perfect form. 
 
 But be not mine a husband whose fair face 
 
 In softness with a virgin's vies, but one 
 
 Of manly manners ; for the sons of such 
 
 By martial toils are trained to glorious deeds : 
 
 The beauteous only to the dance give grace. 
 
 Perish, thou wretch, to nothing noble formed ; 
 
 Such wast thou found, and vengeance on thy head 
 
 At length hath burst ; so perish all, that dare 
 
 Atrocious deeds ! Nor deem, though fair his course 
 
 At first, that he hath vanquished Justice ere 
 
 He shall have reached the goal, the end of life. 
 
 CHOR. His deeds were dreadful ; dreadful hath he felt 
 Your vengeance. With great power is Justice armed. 
 
 ORES. So let it be. But bear this body hence, 
 My slaves ; to darkness let it be consigned ; 
 That when my mother comes, before she feels 
 The deadly stroke, she may not see the corse. 
 
 ELEC. Forbear ; to other subjects turn we now. 
 
 ORES. What, from Mycenae see I aid advance ? 
 
 ELEC. This is no friendly aid ; my mother comes. 
 
 ORES. As we could wish, amidst the toils she runs. 
 
 ELEC. High on her car in splendid state she comes. 
 
 ORES. What shall we do ? Our mother shall we kill ?
 
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 ELEC. On seeing her hath pity seized thy heart ? 
 
 ORES. She bore me, bred me ; her how shall I slay ? 
 
 ELEC. As she thy noble father slew and mine. 
 
 ORES. O Phoebus, wild and rash the charge thou gavst. 
 
 ELEC. Who then are sage, if Phoebus be unwise ? / 
 
 ORES. The charge to kill my mother : impious deed ! 
 
 ELEC. What guilt were thine t' avenge thy father's death ? 
 
 ORES. Now pure, my mother's murderer I should fly. 
 
 ELEC. Will vengeance for thy father be a crime ? 
 
 ORES. But I shall suffer for my mother's blood. 
 
 ELEC. To whom thy father's vengeance then assign ? 
 
 ORES. Like to the gods perchance some demon spoke. 
 
 ELEC. What, from the sacred tripod ! Vain surmise. 
 
 ORES. Ne'er can my reason deem this answer just. 
 
 ELEC. Sink not, unmanned, to weak and timorous thoughts. 
 
 ORES. For her then shall I spread the fatal net ? 
 
 ELEC. In which her husband caught by thee was slain. 
 
 ORES. The house I enter. Dreadful the intent : 
 Dreadful shall be my deeds. If such your will, 
 Ye heavenly powers, so let it be ; to me 
 A bitter, yet a pleasing task assigned. 
 
 CLYTEMNESTRA, ELECTRA, CHORUS. 
 
 CHOR. Imperial mistress of the Argive realms, 
 Drawing from Tyndarus thy noble birth, 
 And sister to th' illustrious sons of Jove, 
 Who 'midst the flaming ether dwell in stars, 
 By mortals lab'ring in the ocean waves 
 In honour as their great preservers held, 
 Hail ! Equal with the gods I thee revere, 
 Thy riches such', and such thy happy state ; 
 Thy fortune, queen, our veneration claims. 
 
 CLYT. First from the car, ye Trojan dames, alight ; 
 Then take my hand, that I too may descend. 
 The temples of the gods with Phrygian spoils 
 Are richly graced : these, from the land of Troy 
 Selected, for the daughter which I lost, 
 A small, but honourable prize, are mine.
 
 ELECT R A. 8 1 
 
 ELEC. And may not I, for from my father's house 
 I am an outcast slave, this wretched hut 
 My mean abode, thy blest hand, mother, hold? 
 
 CLYT. My slaves are here : labour not thou for me. 
 
 ELEC. Why hast thou driven me from the house a slave ? 
 For when the house was taken, I was seized, 
 As these, an orphan of my father reft. 
 
 CLYT. Such were the measures which thy father planned, 
 Where it beseemed him least, against his friends. 
 For I will speak (though when a woman forms 
 An ill opinion, from her tongue will flow 
 Much bitterness) my wrongs from him received : 
 These known, if for thy hatred thou hast cause, 
 'Tis just that thou abhor me ; but if not, 
 Why this abhorrence ? Me did Tyndarus 
 Give to thy father, not that I should die, 
 Nor my poor children : yet he led away, 
 Her nuptials with Achilles the pretence, 
 To Aulis led my daughter, in whose bay 
 His fleet was stationed ; on the altar there 
 My Iphigenia, like a blooming flower, 
 Did he mow down. Averting hostile arms 
 That threatened desolation to the state, 
 Or for the welfare of his house, to save 
 His other children, if for many one 
 A victim he had slain, the deed had found 
 Forgiveness : but for Helena, because 
 She was a wanton, and his faithless wife 
 Her husband could not punish, for this cause 
 My daughter he destroyed; yet for these wrongs, 
 Great as they were, I had not been enraged, 
 Nor had I slain my husband ; but he came, 
 And with him brought the raving prophetess 
 Admitted to his bed, and thus one house 
 Contained two wives. Women indeed are frail, 
 Nor other shall I speak ; but, this inferred, 
 Whene'er the husband from his honour swerves, 
 From his connubial bed estranged, the wife 
 Will imitate his manners, and obtain
 
 82 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Some other friend ; yet slander 'gainst our sex 
 Raises her voice aloud ; while those who cause 
 These trespasses, the men, no blame shall reach. 
 Had Menelaus in secret from his house 
 Been borne, ought I Orestes to have slain, 
 To save my sister's husband ? His son's death 
 How had thy father brooked? And should not he, 
 Who slew my daughter, die ? Was I to bear 
 Patient his wrongs ? I slew him ; to that path, 
 Which only I could tread, I turned my foot, 
 Uniting with his foes ; for of his friends 
 Against him who with me would lift the sword ? 
 If, that thy father not with justice died, 
 Aught thou wouldst urge against me, freely speak. 
 
 ELEC. What thou hast said is just; yet shame attends 
 That justice ; for the wife, if aught she knows 
 Of sober sense, should to her husband yield 
 In all things unreluctant. If thy mind 
 Dissents, nor to the measure of my speech 
 Accedes, yet let my mother her last words 
 Call to her memory ; let me freely speak. 
 
 CLYT. I now repeat them, nor retract, my child. 
 
 ELEC. But, hearing, wilt thou not inflict some ill ? 
 
 CLYT. I will not ; but with kindness will requite. 
 
 ELEC. Then I will speak, and preface thus my speech. 
 I wish, my mother, that a better mind 
 Were thine ; for excellence of form hath brought 
 To thee and Helena deserved praise. 
 Nature hath formed you sisters, light and vain, 
 Of Castor much unworthy. She was borne 
 Away, and by her own consent undone ; 
 Thou hast destroyed the noblest man of Greece : 
 Thy daughter's death thy pretext, thou hast slain 
 Thy husband ; but so well as I none knows, 
 Before it was decreed that she should die, 
 Whilst from Mycenae his departure yet 
 Was recent, at the mirror didst thou form 
 The graceful ringlets of thy golden hair. 
 The wife, that in her husband's absence seeks
 
 ELECTRA. 83 
 
 With curious care to set her beauty forth, 
 
 Mark as a wanton : she with nicest skill 
 
 Would not adorn her person to appear 
 
 Abroad, but that she is inclined to ill. 
 
 Of all the Grecian dames didst thou alone, 
 
 I know, rejoice, when prosperous were the arms 
 
 Of Troy ; but when defeated, on thine eyes 
 
 A cloud hung dark ; for never didst thou wish 
 
 That Agamemnon should from Troy return. 
 
 Yet glorious was th' occasion offered thee 
 
 The strength of female virtue to display : 
 
 Thou hadst a husband in no excellence 
 
 Inferior to yEgisthus : and so vile 
 
 Thy sister's conduct, thou hadst power from thence 
 
 The highest honour to thyself to draw ; 
 
 For in the foulness of th' example vice 
 
 Instructive holds a mirror to the good. 
 
 But if my father, as thou urgest, killed 
 
 Thy daughter, how have I to thee done wrong ? 
 
 My brother how ? Or why, when thou hadst slain 
 
 Thy husband, didst thou not to us consign 
 
 Our father's house, but make it the lewd scene 
 
 Of other nuptials purchased by that prize ? 
 
 Nor is thy husband exiled for thy son ; 
 
 Nor hath he died for me, though, far beyond 
 
 My sister's death, me living hath. he slain. 
 
 If blood, in righteous retribution, calls 
 
 For blood, by me behoves it thou shouldst bleed, 
 
 And by thy son Orestes, to avenge 
 
 My father : there if this was just, alike 
 
 Is it just here. Unwise is he, who weds, 
 
 Allured by riches or nobility, 
 
 A vicious woman : all that greatness brings 
 
 Must yield to that endeared domestic bliss, 
 
 Which on the chr.ste though humble bed attends. 
 
 CHOR. Respecting women fortune ever rules 
 In nuptials : some a source of joy I see 
 To mortals ; some nor joy nor honour know. 
 
 CLYT. Always, my daughter, was thy nature formed
 
 84 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Fond of thy father : not unusual this : 
 
 Some love the men, and on their mothers some 
 
 With greater warmth their sweet affections place. 
 
 I will forgive thee : nor indeed, my child, 
 
 In deeds done by me do I so rejoice. 
 
 But do I see thee, fresh from childbirth, thus 
 
 Unbathed, and in these wretched vestments clad ? 
 
 Ah, my unhappy counsels, that I urged 
 
 My husband 'gainst thee to a rage too hnrsh ! 
 
 ELEC. Too late to breathe the sigh, when thou canst 
 
 give 
 
 No healing medicine. My father dead, 
 Why not recall thy outcast wand'ring son ? 
 
 CLYT. I fear : my welfare I regard, not his, 
 Said to breathe vengeance for his father's death. 
 
 ELEC. Against us why thy husband so enrage ? 
 
 CLYT. Such is his nature : and impetuous thine. 
 
 ELEC. My grief is great : but I will check my rage. 
 
 CLYT. And he no longer will be harsh to thee. 
 
 ELEC. High his aspiring ; in my house he dwells. 
 
 CLYT. Seest thou what contests thou wouldst raise anew ? 
 
 ELEC. I say no more : I fear him, as I fear 
 
 CLYT. Cease this discourse. My presence why required ? 
 
 ELEC. That I am late a mother thou, I ween, 
 Hast heard : make thou the sacrifice for me, 
 I have no skill, on the tenth rising morn 
 What for my son the rites require ; for me, 
 This my first child, experience hath not taught. 
 
 CLYT. This is her task, who aided at the birth. 
 
 ELEC. Unaided and alone I bore the child. 
 
 CLYT. So neighbourless, so friendless stands thy house 
 
 ELEC. None with the poor a friendship wish to form. 
 
 CLYT. Then I will go, and offer to the gods, 
 The days accomplished, for thy son. This grace 
 For thee performed, I hasten to the fields, 
 Where to the nymphs my husband now presents 
 The hallowed victim. My attendants, drive 
 These chariots hence, and lead the steeds to stalls ; 
 When you imagine to the gods these rites
 
 ELECTRA. 85 
 
 I shall have paid, again be present here : 
 My husband too behoves it me to grace. 
 
 ELEC. Let my poor house receive thee ; but take heed 
 Lest thy rich vests the black'ning smoke denies. 
 There shalt thou sacrifice, as to the gods, 
 Behoves thee sacrifice : the basket there 
 Is for the rites prepared, and the keen blade 
 Which struck the bull : beside him shalt thou fall 
 By a like blow : in Pluto's courts his bride 
 He shall receive, with whom in heaven's fair light 
 Thy couch was shared : to thee this grace I give ; 
 Thou vengeance for my father shalt give me. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Strophe. 
 
 Refluent the waves of mischief swell, 
 
 The forceful whirlwind veers around. 
 
 Then in the bath my monarch fell : 
 
 The roofs, the battlements resound ; 
 
 The polished stones, that form the walls, 
 His voice re-echo, as the hero falls, 
 
 " Why, barb'rous woman, by thy hand, 
 After ten years of war on Phrygia's plain 
 Returned victorious to my native land, 
 
 Why, barb'rous woman, am I slain ?" 
 
 Antistrophs. 
 
 Now Justice, for the injured bed 
 
 Which light Love gloried to betray, 
 
 Turns back with vengeance on her head, 
 Who dared her lord to slay. 
 
 Long absent in the fields of fame 
 Scarce to the high Cyclopean towers he came, 
 
 Eager to shed his blood she strove ; 
 With her own hand the keen-edged axe she swayed, 
 With her own hand the murd'rous weapon drove, 
 
 And low her hapless husband laid.
 
 86 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Epode. 
 
 Hapless to such a pest allied, 
 She, like a lioness, in savage pride 
 
 Midst shaggy forests wild that feeds, 
 Dared such atrocious deeds. 
 
 CLYT. O, by the gods, my children, do not kill [ Within. 
 Your mother ! 
 
 CHOR. Heard you in the house her cry ? 
 
 CLYT. Ah me, ah me ! 
 
 CHOR. I too lament thy fate, 
 
 Fall'n by thy children's hands, Th' avenging god 
 Dispenses justice when occasion calls. 
 Dreadful thy punishment ; but dreadful deeds, 
 Unhappy, 'gainst thy husband didst thou dare. 
 Stained with their mother's recent-streaming blood, 
 See, from the house they come, terrible proof 
 Of ruthless slaughter. Ah ! there is no house, 
 Nor hath been, with calamities oppressed, 
 More than the wretched race of Tantalus. 
 
 ORESTES, PYLADES, ELECTRA, CHORUS. 
 
 ORES. O Earth, and thou all-seeing Jove, behold 
 These bloody, these detested deeds ! In death 
 Stretched on the ground beneath my hand they lie, 
 Both lie, a sad atonement for my wrongs. 
 
 ELEC. Much to be mourned, my brother, to be mourned 
 With tears, and I the cause. Unchecked, unawed 
 I to my mother came, I boldly came 
 To her that gave me birth. Alas thy fate, 
 Thy fate, my mother ! Thou hast suffered ills, 
 And from thy children, whose remembrance time 
 Can ne'er efface, deeds ruthless, and far worse 
 Than ruthless : yet with justice hast thou paid 
 This debt to vengeance for my father's blood. 
 
 ORES. O Phcebus, vengeance from thy hallowed shrine
 
 ELECTRA. 87 
 
 Didst thou command, unutterable deeds, 
 
 But not obscure, through thee are done, from Greece 
 
 The bloody bed removed. But to what state 
 
 Shall I now go, what hospitable house ? 
 
 Who will receive me ? Who, that fears the gods, 
 
 Will look on me, stained with my mother's blood ? 
 
 ELEC. And whither, to what country shall I fly, 
 Wretch that I am ? What nuptials shall be mine ? 
 What husband lead me to the bridal bed ? 
 
 ORES. Again, again thy sober sense returns, 
 Changed with the gale : thy thoughts are holy now, 
 Then ruled by frenzy. To what dreadful deeds, 
 O thou most dear, hast thou thy brother urged 
 Reluctant ? Didst thou see her, when she drew 
 Her vests aside, and bared her breasts, and bowed 
 To earth her body, whence I drew my birth, 
 Whilst in her locks my furious hand I wreathed ? 
 
 ELEC. With anguished mind. I know, thou didst proceed, 
 When heard thy wailing mother's piteous cries. 
 
 ORES. These words, whilst with her hand she stroked my 
 
 cheeks, 
 
 Burst forth, " Thy pity I implore, my son :" 
 Soothing she spoke, as on my cheeks she hung, 
 That bloodless from my hand the sword might fall. 
 
 CHOR. Wretched Electra, how couldst thou sustain 
 A sight like this ? How bear thy mother's death, 
 Seeing her thus before thine eyes expire ? 
 
 ORES. Holding my robe before mine eyes I raised 
 The sword, and plunged it in my mother's breast. 
 
 ELEC. I urged thee to it : I too touched the sword. 
 
 CHOR. Of deeds most dreadful this which thou hast done. 
 Cover thy mother's body ; in her robes 
 
 Decent compose her wounded limbs. Thou gavst 
 
 Being to those who were to murder thee. 
 
 ELEC. Behold my friends, and not my friends, we wrap 
 Her robes around her, to our house the end 
 Of mighty ills. 
 
 CHOR. But see, above the house 
 
 What radiant forms appear ? or are they gods
 
 88 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Celestial ? Mortals through th' ethereal way 
 Walk not : but why to human sight disclosed ? 
 
 CASTOR and POLLUX. 
 
 Hear, son of Agamemnon : for to thee 
 
 Thy mother's brothers, twin-born sons of Jove, 
 
 Castor, and this my brother Pollux, speak. 
 
 Late having calmed the ocean waves, that swelled 
 
 The lab'ring vessel menacing, we came 
 
 To Argos, where our sister we beheld, 
 
 Thy mother, slain. With justice vengeance falls 
 
 On her : in thee unholy is the deed. 
 
 Yet Phcebus, Phcebus But, my king is he, 
 
 I will be silent : yet, though wise, he gave 
 
 To thee response not wise : but I must praise 
 
 Perforce these things. Thou now must do what Fate 
 
 And Jove decree. To Pylades afify 
 
 Electra ; let him lead her to his house 
 
 His bride : but leave thou Argos ; for its gates, 
 
 Thy mother slain, to thee is not allowed 
 
 To enter ; for the Furies, hounds of hell, 
 
 Will chase thee, wand' ring, and to madness whirled. 
 
 Go then to Athens, seat of Pallas, clasp 
 
 Her hallowed image : that they touch thee not 
 
 She o'er thy head her Gorgon shield will hold. 
 
 They from her dreadful dragons will start back 
 
 Appalled. The mount of Mars is there, where first 
 
 On blood the gods sate judges, when enraged 
 
 That by unhallowed nuptials wrong had stained 
 
 His daughter, Mars, to ruthless vengeance fired, 
 
 Slew Halirrhothius, of ocean's lord 
 
 The son. Most righteous from that time is held 
 
 The judgment there, and by the gods confirmed : 
 
 There thou must make appeal, this bloody deed 
 
 Be there decided : from the doom of blood 
 
 Absolved the equal numbers of the shells 
 
 Shall save thee that thou die not ; for the blame 
 
 Apollo on himself will charge, whose voice 
 
 Ordained thy mother's death : in future times
 
 ELECTRA. 89 
 
 This law for ever shall be ratified, 
 
 The votes in equal number shall absolve. 
 
 At this the dreadful goddesses with grief 
 
 Deep-wounded through the yawning earth shall sink 
 
 E'en at the mount ; thence an oracular gulf 
 
 Hallowed, revered by mortals. On the banks 
 
 Of Alpheus, the Lycaean temple near, 
 
 Thou must inhabit an Arcadian state. 
 
 And from thy name the city shall be called. 
 
 This I have said to thee ; but in the earth 
 
 The citizens of Athens shall entomb 
 
 The body of ^Egisthus : the last rites 
 
 Due to thy mother Menelaus shall pay, 
 
 At Nauplia late from vanquished Troy arrived, 
 
 And Helena. From Egypt, from the house 
 
 Of Proteus, she returns : to I lion's towers 
 
 She went not ; but, that strife and bloody war 
 
 'Mongst mortal men might rise, an imaged form 
 
 Resembling Helena Jove sent to Troy. 
 
 This virgin now let Pylades receive 
 
 His bride, and home to the Achaian land 
 
 Conduct her. Him, to thee in words allied, 
 
 To Phocis let him lead, and give him there, 
 
 Just to his modest virtue, ample wealth. 
 
 Thou to the narrow Isthmus bend thy steps, 
 
 Thence speed thee to the blest Cecropian state. 
 
 The fated doom, assigned for blood, fulfilled, 
 
 Thou shalt be happy, from thy toils released. 
 
 CHOR. O sons of Jove, may we presume t' approach, 
 And converse with you be allowed to hold ? 
 
 CAST. You may ; no curse this blood derives on you. 
 
 ORES. May I address you, sons of Tyndarus? 
 
 CAST. Thou mayst : to Phoebus this dire deed I charge. 
 
 CHOR. Gods as you are, and brothers to the slain, 
 Why from the house did not your power avert 
 This deadly ill ? 
 
 CAST. The dire necessity 
 
 Of fate impelle4 it, and the voice unwise 
 Of Phoebus from his shrine.
 
 90 EURIPIDES. 
 
 ELEC. But me what voice 
 
 Of Phoebus urged, what oracle, that I 
 The murderer of my mother should become ? 
 
 CAST. Common the actions, common too the fates. 
 One demon, hostile to your parents, rent 
 The hearts of both. 
 
 ORES. For such a length of time 
 
 Not seen, loved sister, am I torn so soon 
 From thy dear converse, leaving thee so soon, 
 And left ? 
 
 CAST. She hath a husband, and a house, 
 Nor suffers aught severe, save that she leaves 
 The Argive state. 
 
 ORES. And what severer woe 
 
 Can rend the anguished heart, than to be driv'n 
 An outcast from our country ? I must leave 
 My father's house, and for my mother's blood 
 The sentence passed by foreign laws abide. 
 
 CAST. Resume thy courage : to the sacred seat 
 Of Pallas shalt thou come ; be firm, endure. 
 
 ELEC. O my loved brother, clasp, O clasp my breast 
 Close to thy breast. For from our father's house 
 A mother's curse hath torn us, dreadful curse ! 
 
 ORES. Thus let me clasp thee : o'er me, as now dead, 
 As o'er my tomb thy lamentations pour. 
 
 CAST. Ah, thou hast uttered sorrows e'en to gods 
 Mournful to hear. In me, in heaven's high powers 
 Is pity for the woes of mortal men. 
 
 ORES. I shall no more behold thee. 
 
 ELEC. And no more 
 
 Shall I come near thy sight. 
 
 ORES. No more with thee 
 
 Shall I hold converse : this my last address. 
 
 ELEC. Farewell, Mycenre ! And you, virgins, born 
 In the same state with me, farewell, farewell ! 
 
 ORES. O thou most faithful, dost thou go e'en now ? 
 
 ELEC. I go ; but dew my softened eyes with tears. 
 
 ORES. Go, Pylades, go thou with joy, and wed 
 Electra.
 
 ELECTRA. 91 
 
 CAST. Them the nuptial rites await. 
 Haste thou to Athens, fly these hounds of hell ; 
 For 'gainst thee they their hideous steps advance, 
 Gloomy and dark, their hands with serpents armed, 
 Rejoicing in the dreadful pains they give. 
 To the Sicilian sea with speed we go, 
 To save the vessels lab'ring in the waves. 
 But to the impious through th' ethereal tract 
 We no assistance bring. But, those to whom 
 Justice and sanctity of life is dear, 
 We from their dang'rous toils relieve, and save. 
 Let no one then unjustly will to act, 
 Nor in one vessel with the perjured sail ; 
 A god to mortals this monition gives. 
 
 CHOR. Oh, be you blest ! And those, to whom is giv'n 
 Calmly the course of mortal life to pass 
 By no affliction sunk, pronounce we blest.
 
 ORESTES. 
 
 To the Choephoras of /Eschylus we owe the " Electra " and 
 " Orestes " of Euripides, and particularly that wonderful scene in 
 which the madness of Orestes is represented. This was touched 
 with a masterly hand by the great father of tragedy ; but 
 Euripides, as hath been observed before, had the skill to give 
 this sketch its finishing, and to heighten it with the warmest 
 glow of colouring. Our poet is here, as Longinus describes him, 
 like a lion that at first disregards his assailants, but, as soon as 
 he feels the spear, lashes himself up to rage, and rushes on with 
 impetuous ardour. If his genius did not of itself carry him to 
 the sublime, he has here forced his nature to the true tragic 
 elevation. Here, as the critic finely observes, the poet himself 
 saw the Furies ; and what his imagination so finely conceived, 
 he forced his audience almost to see. Euripides, indeed, par- 
 ticularly studied to enrich his tragedies with these two passions, 
 Love and Madness ; and he succeeded very happily in them. 
 Shakespeare knew well how to paint the horrors of an imagina- 
 tion disturbed with the consciousness of guilt, and all that 
 perilous stuff which weighs upon the heart, when Macbeth 
 
 felt 
 
 His secret murders sticking on his hands : 
 
 but the frenzy of Orestes receives a peculiar heightening from 
 the tenderness with which the scene opens and concludes ; we 
 have here all the sublime conception and noble daring of 
 yEschylus united with that sympathetic softness which charac- 
 terizes Euripides. 
 
 As we form our first acquaintance with these Grecian princes
 
 94 EURIPIDES. 
 
 from Homer, and imbibe an early veneration for their noble 
 qualities embellished by the graces of his poetry, we are hurt at 
 finding the gallant Menelaus, the intrepid hero, the affectionate 
 brother, represented as an ungrateful, unfeeling, timid, designing 
 poltroon. Aristotle (Poet. c. 15) is generally understood as cen- 
 suring the poet for this unnecessary depravation of the hero's 
 manners ; but the words of the critic are so concise, and derive 
 so little light from the connection, that they may be considered 
 as a mysterious oracular sentence which wants an expounder ; 
 perhaps it excuses the poet upon the necessity, and indeed it is 
 not easy to conceive how the drama, had it given to Menelaus 
 other manners, could have been worked up to this terrible height 
 of tragic distress. 
 
 But a stronger and more important censure must ever fall on 
 the sanguinary spirit of revenge which breathes through this 
 drama. Even Tyndarus, who professes the highest reverence 
 for the laws, and declares his resolution to support them, urges 
 the death of Orestes and Electra, though he acknowledges that 
 the wisdom of their ancestors allowed the offenders to atone 
 their guilt by banishment : thus his argument confutes itself, and 
 he is a fine image of a person who deceives even himself with 
 the pretext of justice, by viewing things through the false 
 medium of passion. The cool and dispassionate Pylades 
 proposes to kill Helena, because her death would afflict the 
 heart of Menelaus with grief: Orestes readily engages in the 
 horrid design : the Chorus, the faithful guardian of virtue, ap- 
 proves it ; and Electra, far from expressing any abhorrence of 
 this cruel murder, advises her brother to seize Hermione, and, 
 should Menelaus refuse to save their lives, to plunge the sword 
 into her breast. We may be assured that these sentiments 
 were received with approbation, because the tender Virgil, whose 
 heart was alive to all the feelings of humanity, hath adopted 
 them, and given them to his pious ./Eneas : 
 
 Extinxisse tamen nefas, et sumpsisse merentis 
 Laudabor pcenas ; animumque explesse juvabit 
 Ultricis flammae, et cineres satiasse meorum. 
 
 sEneid, ii. 585. 
 
 But it should be remembered that this savage and sanguinary 
 spirit does not characterize Orestes or ./Eneas ; it was general
 
 ORESTES. 95 
 
 in those ages, when not to revenge an injury was considered as 
 a mark of a base and servile mind : their morality allowed, and 
 their religion sanctified, such revenge. If our minds are more 
 enlightened, and our manners more humanized, we know from 
 whence we derive the advantage. 
 
 The scene is in the royal palace at Argos. 
 
 ELECTRA. 
 
 HELENA. 
 
 ORESTES. 
 
 MENELAUS. 
 
 TVNDARUS. 
 
 PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. 
 
 PYLADES. 
 MESSENGER. 
 PHRYGIAN SLAVE. 
 
 CHORUS OF ARGIVE VIRGINS. 
 
 ELECTRA. 
 
 THERE is not in the stores of angry heaven 
 
 Aught terrible, affliction or distress, 
 
 But miserable man bears its full weight. 
 
 E'en Tantalus, the son of Jove, the blest 
 
 (Not to malign his fate), hangs in the air, 
 
 And trembles at the rock, which o'er his head 
 
 Projects its threat'ning mass ; a punishment 
 
 They say, for that to heaven's high feast admitted, 
 
 A mortal equal with th' immortals graced, 
 
 He curbed not the intemperance of his tongue ; 
 
 The sire of Pelops he, of Atreus this, 
 
 For whom the Fates weaving a diadem 
 
 Wove discord with the thread, to kindle war 
 
 Betwixt the brothers, Atreus and Thyestes. 
 
 But why recite things horrible to tell ? 
 
 Him Atreus feasted, having slain his sons. 
 
 From Atreus (may oblivion hide the rest) 
 
 Th' illustrious Agamemnon, if illustrious,
 
 95 EURIPIDES. 
 
 And Menelaus had birth ; Aerope 
 
 Of Crete their mother. Menelaus espoused 
 
 The fatal Helen, by the gods abhorred. 
 
 Th' imperial Agamemnon wooed the bed 
 
 Of Clytemnestra, memorable to Greece ; 
 
 From her three daughters sprung, Chrysothemis 
 
 And Iphigenia, and myself Electra, 
 
 One son, Orestes, from this wicked mother, 
 
 Who in th' inextricable robe entangled 
 
 Her husband murdered, for a cause which ill 
 
 Becomes a virgin's modest lips t' unfold. 
 
 Th' injustice of Apollo must I blame ? 
 
 Orestes he commands to slay his mother, 
 
 Nor bears to all the glory of the deed. 
 
 Not disobedient to the god he slew her. 
 
 I had my share, such as a woman might, 
 
 And Pylades assisted in the act. 
 
 Since then the poor Orestes pines away 
 
 Impaired with cruel sickness ; on his bed 
 
 He lies ; his mother's blood to frenzy whirls 
 
 His tortured sense : th' avenging powers, that haunt 
 
 His soul with terrors thus, I dare not name. 
 
 The sixth day this, since on the hallowed pile 
 
 My slaughtered mother purged her stains away. 
 
 No food hath passed his lips, no bath refreshed 
 
 His limbs ; but in his garments covered close, 
 
 When his severe disease abates a little, 
 
 He melts in tears ; and sometimes from his couch 
 
 Starts furious, like a colt burst from his yoke. 
 
 Meantime the state of Argos hath decreed 
 
 That shelt'ring roof, and fire, and conference 
 
 Be interdicted to us matricides. 
 
 And this decisive day the states pronounce 
 
 Our doom, to die crushed with o'erwhelming stones, 
 
 Or by th' avenging sword plunged in our breasts. 
 
 Yet have we one small my of bright'ning hope, 
 
 Hope that we die not ; for from Troy returned 
 
 After long wand'rings Menelaus arrives, 
 
 His vessels in the Nauplian hnrbour moored,
 
 ORESTES. 97 
 
 And to this strand impels his eager oar ; 
 
 But the woe-working Helen in the shades 
 
 Of shelt'ring night, lest some, whose sons were slain 
 
 Beneath the walls of Troy, seeing her walk 
 
 In day's fair light, with vengeful rage might rise, 
 
 And crush the shining mischief, first he lands, 
 
 And sends her to our house : there now she is, 
 
 Weeping her sister's fate and our afflictions. 
 
 Yet 'midst her grief this comfort she enjoys, 
 
 Hermione, her virgin daughter, whom 
 
 At Sparta, when she sailed for Troy, she left, 
 
 The father to my mother's care consigned ; 
 
 In her delighted she forgets her woes. 
 
 But my quick eye glances to each access, 
 
 If Menelaus advancing I might see. 
 
 Weak help from others, if not saved by him : 
 
 The house of the unhappy hath no friend. 
 
 ELECTRA, HELENA. 
 
 HEL. Daughter of Clytemnestra and the chief 
 That drew from Atreus his illustrious birth, 
 Virgin of ripest years, how is it, say, 
 With thee, unhappy, and the wretch Orestes, 
 Who in his mother's blood imbrued his hands ? 
 With thee conversing I am not polluted, 
 Charging the crime on Phoebus. Yet I mourn 
 My sister's fate ; for since I sailed to Troy, 
 Urged to that madness by th' offended gods, 
 These eyes have not beheld her ; yet, her loss 
 Deploring, at her fortunes drop the tear. 
 
 ELEC. Why should I tell thee what thine eyes behold, 
 The race of Agamemnon in distress ? 
 Myself attendant on th' unhappy dead, 
 But that he breathes a little he is dead. 
 Sit sleepless : yet reproach I not his ills. 
 But thou art happy, happy is thy husband ; 
 To us in our calamities ye come. 
 
 HEL. How long on this sick-bed hath he been laid? 
 
 D
 
 98 EURIPIDES. 
 
 ELEC. E'er since he shed her blood who gave him breath. 
 
 HEL. Ah, wretch ! Ah, wretched mother thus to perish ! 
 
 ELEC. Such our lost state I sink beneath our ills. 
 
 HEL. Do me one grace I beg thee by the gods. 
 
 ELEC. As watching at my brother's couch I may. 
 
 HEL. Wilt thou go for me to my sister's tomb ? 
 
 ELEC, My mother's dost thou mean ? And wherefore go ? 
 
 HEL. These locks and my libations to present. 
 
 ELEC. What hinders but thou visit thy friend's tomb ? 
 
 HEL. And show me to the Grecians ? Shame forbids. 
 
 ELEC. Too late discreet ; when shameless from thy 
 house 
 
 HEL. Just is thy censure, but not friendly to me. 
 
 ELEC. And at Mycenae dost thou feel this shame? 
 
 HEL. I dread the fathers, whose sons died at Troy. 
 
 ELEC. Against thee loud the voice of Argos cries. 
 
 HEL. Oblige me then, and free me from this fear. 
 
 ELEC. I could not look upon my mother's tomb. 
 
 HEL. To send these offerings by a slave were shame. 
 
 ELEC. Hermione, thy daughter, why not send ? 
 
 HEL. A virgin 'midst the crowd ! Indecent this. 
 
 ELEC. The favours of the dead, who trained her youth 
 With fond affection, thus she might repay. 
 
 HEL. 'Tis justly urged : I will obey thee, virgin, 
 And send my daughter ; for thy words are wise. 
 Hermione, come hither : to the tomb 
 Of Clytemnestra these libations bear, 
 And these my locks ; there pour this honied bowl 
 Foaming with milk and wine ; on the high mound, 
 Addressing thus the dead, " These hallowed gifts 
 Helen, thy sister, offers, who through fear 
 Approaches not thy tomb, dreading the crowd 
 Of Argos." Bid her be propitious to us, 
 To me, to thee, my husband, and these two, 
 These wretched two, whom Phoebus hath undone. 
 Then promise all that to a sister's shade 
 A sister should bestow : go, my child, haste, 
 Present these gifts ; then speed thy quick return. 
 
 ELEC. O nature, in the bad how great an ill ! [Alone.
 
 ORESTES. 99 
 
 But in the virtuous strong thy power to save. 
 See, she hath shorn th' extremity of her locks, 
 Anxious of beauty, the same woman still ! 
 May the gods hate thee, as thou hast ruined me, 
 And him, and universal Greece ! Ah me, 
 My loved companions come, whose friendly grief 
 Attunes their sad notes to my mournful strains. 
 He sleeps now; they will wake him, and my eyes 
 Will melt in tears, when I behold him rave. 
 
 ELECTRA, CHORUS. 
 
 ELEC. Dearest of women, softly set your feet, 
 Not to be heard ; gently advance ; no noise. 
 Kind is your friendship : but t' awake him now 
 From this sweet rest would be a grief to me. 
 CHOR. Silence, silence ! Softly tread : 
 
 Nor foot be heard, nor sound, nor noise. 
 ELEC. This way far, far from the bed. 
 CHOR. I obey. 
 ELEC. Hush, let thy voice 
 
 Steal on my ear 
 
 Soft as the whispers of the breathing reed. 
 CHOR. Soft as the whispers of the breathing reed 
 
 My voice shall steal upon thy ear. 
 ELEC. Ay, thus, low, low ; softly come near ; 
 
 Come softly, friends, and tell me why 
 
 This visit. A long sleep hath closed his eye. 
 CHOR. Doth hope then brighten on his ill ? 
 ELEC. Alas, what hope ? Behold him lie ; 
 
 He breathes, a little breathes, and still 
 
 Heaves at short intervals a sigh. 
 CHOR. Unhappy state ! 
 ELEC. Death were it, should you, as thus loud you weep, 
 
 Fright from his eyelids the sweet joys of sleep. 
 CHOR. Yet wail I his unhappy state, 
 
 Abhorred deeds of deadly hate, 
 
 Rage of vindictive, tort'ring woes, 
 
 Which the relentless powers of heaven impose. 
 
 D 2
 
 ioo EURIPIDES. 
 
 ELEC. Unjust, unjust the stern command, 
 
 The stern command Apollo gave 
 
 From Themis' seat, his ruthless hand 
 
 In blood, in mother's blood to lave. 
 CHOR. Ah, turn thine eye. 
 
 He stirs, he moves, rolled in the cov'ring vest. 
 ELEC. Wretch, thy rude clamours have disturbed his rest. 
 CHOR. And yet I think sleep locks his eye. 
 ELEC. Wilt thou be gone ? hence wilt thou fly, 
 
 That quiet here again may dwell ? 
 CHOR. Again composed he sleeps again. 
 ELEC. 'Tis well. 
 
 CHOR. Awful queen, whose gentle power 
 
 Brings sweet oblivion of onr woes, 
 
 And in the calm and silent hour 
 
 Distils the blessings of repose, 
 
 Come awful Night, 
 
 Come from the gloom of Erebus profound, 
 
 And spread thy sable-tinctured wings around ; 
 
 Speed to this royal house thy flight ; 
 
 For pale-eyed Grief, and wild Affright, 
 
 And all the horrors of Despair, 
 
 Here pour their rage, and threaten ruin here. 
 ELEC. Softly let your warblings flow ; 
 
 Further, a further distance keep ; 
 
 The far-off cadence sweet and low 
 
 Charms his repose, and aids his sleep. 
 CHOR. Tell us, what end 
 
 Awaits his mis'ries ? 
 ELEC. Death : that end I fear. 
 
 He tastes no food. 
 
 CHOR. Death then indeed, and near. 
 
 ELEC. When Phoebus gave the dire command 
 
 To bathe in mother's blood his hand, 
 
 By whom the father sunk in dust, 
 
 He doomed us victims. 
 
 CHOR. Dire these deeds, but just. 
 
 ELEC. She slew, she died. Thy hand abhorred 
 
 In dust my bleeding father laid :
 
 ORESTES. 101 
 
 And for thy blood, in vengeance poured, 
 
 We perish, perish as the dead. 
 
 The shadowy train 
 
 Thou joinest : but my life shall waste away 
 
 In tears the night, in sighs and groans the day. 
 
 But, ah ! to whom shall I complain ! 
 
 Nor child nor husband soothes my pain : 
 
 For ever drag I my distress, 
 
 Sigh, mourn, and weep in lonely wretchedness. 
 CHOR. Go nearer, royal virgin ; nearer view him, 
 That under this soft sleep the sleep of death 
 Deceive thee not : I like not this still rest. 
 
 ORESTES, ELECTRA, CHORUS. 
 
 ORES. O gentle Sleep, whose lenient power thus soothes 
 Disease and pain, how sweet thy visit to me, 
 Who wanted thy soft aid ! Blessing divine, 
 That to the wretched givest wished repose, 
 Steeping their senses in forgetfulness ! 
 Where have I been ! Where am I ? How brought hither ? 
 My late distraction blots remembrance out. 
 
 ELEC. My most dear brother, oh, what heart-felt joy 
 To see thee lie composed in gentle sleep ! 
 Wilt thou I touch thee ? Shall I raise thee up ? 
 
 ORES. Assist me then, assist me ; from my mouth 
 Wipe off this clotted foam ; wipe my moist eyes. 
 
 ELEC. Delightful office, fora sister's hand 
 To minister relief to a sick brother. 
 
 ORES. Lie by my side, and from my face remove 
 These squalid locks ; they blind my darkened eyes. 
 
 ELEC. How tangled are the ringlets of thy hair, 
 Wild and disordered through this long neglect i 
 
 ORES. Pray lay me down again: when this ill frenzy 
 Leaves me, I am very feeble, very faint. 
 
 ELEC. There, there : the bed is grateful to the sick, 
 A mournful, but a necessary tenure. 
 
 ORES. Raise me again ; more upright ; bend me forward. 
 
 CHOR. The sick are wayward through their restlessness.
 
 102 EURIPIDES. 
 
 ELEC. Or wilt thou try with slow steps on the ground 
 To fix thy feet ? Variety is sweet. 
 
 ORES. Most willingly : it hath the show of health ; 
 The seeming hath some good, though void of truth. 
 
 ELEC. Now, my loved brother, hear me, whilst the Furies 
 Permit thy sense thus clear and undisturbed. 
 
 ORES. Has thou aught new? If good, I thank thec 
 
 for it ; 
 If ill, I have enough of ill already. 
 
 ELEC. Thy father's brother, Menelaus, arrives ; 
 His fleet rides anchored in the Nauplian bay. 
 
 ORES. Comes he then ? Light on our afflictions dawns : 
 Much to my father's kindness doth he owe. 
 
 ELEC. He comes ; and, to confirm what now I say, 
 Brings Helena from Ilium's ruined walls. 
 
 ORES. More to be envied, were he saved alone ; 
 Bringing his wife, he brings a mighty ill. 
 
 ELEC. The female line of Tyndarus was born 
 To deep disgrace, and infamous through Greece. 
 
 ORES. Be thou unlike them then ; 'tis in thy power ; 
 And further than in words thy virtue prove. 
 
 ELEC. Alas, my brother, wildly rolls thine eye ; 
 So quickly changed ! the frentic fit returns. 
 
 ORES. Ah, mother ! Do not set thy Furies on me. 
 See, how their fiery eyeballs glare in blood, 
 And wreathing snakes hiss in their horrid hair ! 
 There, there they stand, ready to leap upon me. 
 
 ELEC. Rest thee, poor brother, rest thee on thy bed ; 
 Thou seest them not ; 'tis fancy's coinage all. 
 
 ORES. O Phoebus, they will kill me, these dire forms, 
 These Gorgon-visaged ministers of hell ! 
 
 ELEC. Thus will I hold thee, round thee throw mine arms, 
 And check th' unhappy force of thy wild starts. 
 
 ORES. Off, let me go ! I know thee, who thou art, 
 One of the Furies ; and thou grapplest with me, 
 To whirl me into Tartarus. Avaunt ! 
 
 ELEC. What shall I do ? Ah me, where shall I seek 
 Assistance, since th' unfriendly god frowns on us ! 
 
 ORES. Bring me the bow of horn which Phoebus gave me,
 
 ORESTES. 103 
 
 And with it bade me drive these fiends away, 
 Should they affright me with their madd'ning terrors. 
 
 ELEC. Shall any god by mortal hands be wounded ? 
 
 ORES. Should she not instant vanish from my sight. 
 Heard you the clang ? Saw you the winge'd shaft 
 Bound from the distant-wounding bow ? Ha, ha ! 
 Here yet ! On swift wings mount th' ethereal air, 
 And there impeach the oracle of Phoebus. 
 Whence this disquiet ? Why thus pants my breath ? 
 Ah, whither am I wandered from my bed ? 
 For from the storm the high-swoln waves subside. 
 Why dost thou weep, my sister? Why decline 
 Thy drooping head, and hide it in thy vest ? 
 I blush to give thee part in my disease, 
 And wound with grief thy virgin tenderness. 
 Let not my ills be thus infectious to thee ; 
 Thou barely didst assent ; I did the deed, 
 I shed her blood. But Phoebus I must blame, 
 Who urged me to this most unholy act ; 
 Then, save with soothing words, assist me not. 
 Had these eyes seen my father, had I asked him 
 In duty if I ought to slay my mother, 
 I think he would have prayed me not to plunge 
 My murdering sword in her that gave me birth ; 
 Since he could not revisit heaven's sweet light, 
 And I must suffer all these miseries. 
 But now unveil thy face and dry thy tears, 
 My sister, though afflictions press us sore : 
 And when thou seest me in these fitful moods, 
 Soothe my disordered sense, and let thy voice 
 Speak peace to my distraction ; when the sigh 
 Swells in thy bosom, 'tis a brother's part 
 With tender sympathy to calm thy griefs ; 
 These are the pleasing offices of friends. 
 But to thy chamber go, afflicted maid, 
 There seek repose, close thy long-sleepless eyes, 
 With food refresh thee, and th' enlivening bath. 
 Shouldst thou forsake me, or with too close tendance 
 Impair thy delicate and tender health,
 
 104 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Then were I lost indeed ; for thou alone, 
 Abandoned as I am, art all my comfort. 
 
 ELEC. Should I forsake thee ! No ; my choice is fixed ; 
 And I will die with thee, or with thee live, 
 Indifferent for myself; for shouldst thou die, 
 What refuge shall a lonely virgin find, 
 Her brother lost, her father lost, her friends 
 All melted from her ? Yet, if such thy wish, 
 I ought t' obey : recline thee on thy couch, 
 Nor let these visionary terrors fright thee ; 
 There rest ; though all be fancy's coinage wild, 
 Yet Nature sinks beneath the violent toil. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Strophe. 
 
 Awful powers, whose rapid flight 
 Bears you from the realms of night 
 To hearts that groan, and eyes that weep, 
 Where you joyless orgies keep, 
 Ye gloomy powers, that shake the affrighted air, 
 And armed with your tremendous rod, 
 Dealing terror, woe, despair, 
 Punish murder, punish blood, 
 For Agamemnon's race this strain, 
 This supplicating strain, I pour ; 
 No more afflict his soul with pain, 
 Nor torture him with madness more : 
 Breathe oblivion o'er his woes, 
 Leave him, leave him to repose. 
 Unhappy youth, what toils are thine, 
 Since Phoebus from his central shrine 
 Bade thee unsheath th' avenging sword, 
 And Fate confirmed th' irrevocable word !
 
 ORESTES. 105 
 
 Antistrophe. 
 
 Hear us, king of gods, O hear, 
 Where is soft-eyed Pity, where ? 
 Whence, to plunge thee thus in woes, 
 Discord stained with gore arose? 
 What vengeful Demon thus with footstep dread, 
 Trampling the blood-polluted ground, 
 Sternly cruel joys to spread 
 Horror, rage, and madness round? 
 Woe, woe is me ! In man's frail state 
 Nor height nor greatness firm abides : 
 On the calm sea secure of fate, 
 Her sails all spread, the vessel rides : 
 
 Now th' impetuous whirlwinds sweep, 
 Roars the storm, and swells the deep, 
 Till with the furious tempest tost 
 She sinks in surging billows lost. 
 Yet firm their fate will I embrace, 
 And still revere this heaven-descended race. 
 
 CHOR. But see, the royal Menelaus advances : 
 That awe-commanding and majestic port 
 Denotes him of the race of Tantalus. 
 Illustrious leader of a thousand ships, 
 That bore to Asia's strand thy martial host, 
 All hail ! Good fortune guides thee, and the gods, 
 Fav'ring thy vows, have blessed thy conq'ring arms. 
 
 MENELAUS, ORESTES, CHORUS. 
 
 MEN. From Troy returned, with pleasure I behold 
 This royal house, with pleasure mixed with grief: 
 For never saw I house encompassed round 
 With such afflictions. Agamemnon's fate, 
 How by his wife he perished, I long since 
 At Malea learned, when rising from the waves 
 Confessed to open view the sailors' prophet,
 
 lc6 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Unerring Glaucus, the dire bath disclosed, 
 
 The wife, and each sad circumstance of blood ; 
 
 A tale, that harrowed up my soul with grief, 
 
 And wrung the tear from the stern veteran's eye. 
 
 But to the Nauplian coast arrived, my wife 
 
 First landed, when I hoped with joy to fold 
 
 Orestes and his mother in my arms, 
 
 As happy now, a wave-washed fisherman 
 
 Told me that Clytemnestra is no more, 
 
 Slain by th' unholy sword. But, virgins, say 
 
 Where is Orestes, who these horrid ills 
 
 Hath dared ? For when the war called me to Troy, 
 
 An infant in his mother's arms I left him, 
 
 That now, if seen, his form would be unknown. 
 
 ORES. He whom thou seekst am I : I am Orestes. 
 To thee, O king, will I unfold my woes, 
 And willingly : but first I grasp thy knees, 
 And pour my plain unornamented prayer : 
 Save me ; for thou 'midst my distress art come. 
 
 MEN". Ye powers of heaven, what do mine eyes behold? 
 One from the regions of the dead returned ! 
 
 ORES. Well hast thou said : I view the light indeed, 
 But do not live ; such are my miseries. 
 
 MEN. How wild, how horrid hangs thy matted hair ! 
 
 ORES. The real, not th' apparent, racks my soul. 
 
 MEN. Thy shrunk and hollow eye glares dreadfully. 
 
 ORES. My whole frame wastes ; nought, save my name, is left. 
 
 MEN. Reason revolts at this thy squalid form. 
 
 ORES. Alas, I am the murderer of my mother. 
 
 MEN. I have heard it : spare mine ear the tale of woe. 
 
 ORES. I will : yet heaven is rich in woes to me. 
 
 MEN. What are thy suff rings ? What disease consumes thee ? 
 
 ORES. Conscience : the conscious guilt of horrid deeds. 
 
 MEN. How sayst thou ? Wisdom suffers when obscure. 
 
 ORES. A pining melancholy most consumes me. 
 
 MEN. Dreadful its power, but not immedicable. 
 
 ORES. And frenzy, fierce t' avenge my mother's blood. 
 
 MEN. When did its rage first seize thee ? What the day ? 
 
 ORES. The day I raised my hapless mother's tomb.
 
 ORESTES. 107 
 
 MEN. What, in the house, or sitting at the pyre? 
 
 ORES. By night, as from rude hands I guard her bones. 
 
 MEN. Was any present, to support thy weakness ? 
 
 ORES. My Pylades, who aided in her death. 
 
 MEN. What phantoms frighten thy disordered sense? 
 
 ORES. Three virgin forms I see gloomy as night. 
 
 MEN. Whom thy words mark I know, but will not name. 
 
 ORES. Awful they are : forbear irreverent words. 
 
 MEN. And do these haunt thee for thy mother's blood ? 
 
 ORES. Ah wretched me, how dreadful their pursuit ! 
 
 MEN. Thus dreadful sufferings dreadful deeds attend. 
 
 ORES. Yet have we where to charge our miseries. 
 
 MEN. Name not thy father's death ; that were unwise. 
 
 ORES. Phcebus, by whose command I slew my mother. 
 
 MEN. Of right and justice ignorant, I ween. 
 
 ORES. We to the gods submit, whate'er they are. 
 
 MEN. And doth not Phcebus in thine ills protect thee ? 
 
 ORES. Not yet : delays attend the powsrs divine. 
 
 MEN. How long then since thy mother breathed her last ? 
 
 ORES. This the sixth day ; the funeral pile yet warm. 
 
 MEN. How soon thy mother's blood these powers avenge ? 
 
 ORES. Unwisely said : though true, unkind to friends. 
 
 MEN. What then avails to have avenged thy father ? 
 
 ORES. Nought yet. Delay is as a deed not done. 
 
 MEN. In what light does the city view thy deeds ? 
 
 ORES. They hate us, so that none hold conference with us. 
 
 MEN. Hast thou yet purified thy hands from blood ? 
 
 ORES. Where'er I go, each house is barred against me, 
 
 MEN. What citizens thus drive thee from the land ? 
 
 ORES. QEax, through ranc'rous malice to my father. 
 
 MEN. On the avenging Palamedes' death ? 
 
 ORES. I wrought it not. But three pursue my ruin. 
 
 MEN. The others who ? Some of yEgisthus' -friends ? 
 
 ORES. They hurt me most, whose power now sways the state. 
 
 MEN. Commit they not the sceptre to thy hands ? 
 
 ORES. They, who no longer suffer us to live ! 
 
 MEN. How acting ? \Vhat thou art assured of speak. 
 
 ORES. Sentence against us will this day be given. 
 
 MEN. Of exile ? or to die ? or not to die ?
 
 io8 EURIPIDES. 
 
 ORES. To die, with stones crushed by our citizens. 
 
 MEN. Why fliest thou not far from this country's bounds ? 
 
 ORES. On every side we are enclosed with arms. 
 
 MEN. By private foes, or by the Argive state? 
 
 ORES. By the whole state : in brief, that I may die. 
 
 MEN. Wretch, thou hast reached misfortune's dire extreme. 
 
 ORES. In thee is all my hope, in thee my refuge : 
 Happy to us afflicted art thou come ; 
 Share with thy friends that happiness, alone 
 Enjoy not all the good thou hast received ; 
 In our afflictions bear a friendly part. 
 Think how my father loved thee, and requite 
 That love to us : it will become thee well : 
 They have the name of friends, but not the worth, 
 Who are not friends in our calamities. 
 
 CHOR. But see, the Spartan Tyndarus this way 
 Directs his aged feet, in sable weeds, 
 His locks, in grief for his dead daughter, shorn. 
 
 ORES. Ah me ! He comes indeed, whose presence most 
 Fills me with shame for what I have misdone. 
 I was his darling once ; my infant age 
 With tenderness he nursed, caressed me, bore 
 The child of Agamemnon in his arms, 
 And loved me like the twin-born sons of Jove : 
 Nor Leda less. And is it thus, my soul, 
 Thus, O my bleeding heart, that I requite 
 Their ill-paid love ! Ah, cover me, ye shades, 
 Ye clouds, with friendly darkness wrap me round, 
 And hide me from the terrors of his eye ! 
 
 TYNDARUS, MENELAUS, ORESTES, CHORUS. 
 
 TYND. Where shall I see my daughter's husband, where 
 Find Menelaus ? At Clytemnestra's tomb, 
 Libations as I poured, I heard that he, 
 With Helen, after all these tedious years, 
 Is safely in the Nauplian port arrived. 
 O lead me; for I long to grasp his hand, 
 To feast mine eyes after this length of years, 
 And welcome to our shores the man I love.
 
 ORESTES. 109 
 
 MEN. Hail, reverend sharer of the bed with Jove ! 
 
 TYND. With joy thy greeting I return, my son. 
 Ah, not to know the future, what an ill ! 
 Hateful to me this murd'rous dragon here 
 Glares pestilential lightnings from his eyes. 
 Wilt thou hold conference with th' unhallowed wretch ? 
 
 MEN. And wherefore not ? His father was my friend. 
 
 TVND. From such a father sprung a son so vile ? 
 
 MEN. He did ; to be respected, though unhappy. 
 
 TYND. Barb'rous thy manners, 'mongst barbarians learned. 
 
 MEN. Nay, Greece enjoins respect to kindred blood. 
 
 TYND. And not to wish to' be above the laws. 
 
 MEN. Necessity is to the wise a law. 
 
 TYND. Enjoy it thou ; I will have none of it. 
 
 MEN. Wisdom approves not anger in thy years. 
 
 TYND. What ! Is the contest then of wisdom with him ? 
 If virtuous and dishonourable deeds 
 Are plain to all, who more unwise than he ? 
 Deaf to the call of justice he infringed 
 The firm authority of the public laws : 
 For when beneath my daughter's murd'ring axe 
 Th' imperial Agamemnon bowed his head, 
 A horrid deed, which never shall I praise, 
 He ought t' have called the laws, the righteous laws, 
 T' avenge the blood, and by appeal to them 
 Have driven his mother from this royal house : 
 Thus 'midst his ills calm reason had borne rule, 
 Justice had held its course, and he been righteous. 
 But the same Fury, which had seized his mother, 
 Had now seized him ; and with ungoverned rage, 
 Justly abhorrent of her impious deed, 
 He did a deed more impious, slew his mother. 
 For, let me ask thee, should the faithless wife 
 Bathe in the husband's blood her murd'rous hands, 
 And should th' avenging son the mother slay, 
 His son ngain retaliate blood for blood, 
 What bound shall the progressive mischief know ? 
 The wisdom of our ancestors ordained 
 That he, who had the guilt of blood upon him,
 
 I io EURIPIDES. 
 
 Be not allowed the sight, the walks of men, 
 
 By banishment atoning, not by death : 
 
 Else one must always be to death devote, 
 
 Who hath the last pollution on his hands. 
 
 But these vile women doth my soul abhor, 
 
 And her, my daughter, first, who slew her lord : 
 
 Thy Helen too I never will commend, 
 
 Never hold converse with her ; no, nor thee 
 
 Can I approve, who for a worthless woman 
 
 In toilsome march hast trod the fields of Troy. 
 
 Yet to my power will I support the laws, 
 
 And check this savage, blood-polluted rage, 
 
 Which spreads wild havoc o'er th' unpeopled land. 
 
 Hadst thou the feelings of humanity, 
 
 Wretch, when thy mother cried to thee for mercy, 
 
 And bared her breast to thy relentless view ? 
 
 I saw it not, that scene of misery, 
 
 Yet the soft tear melts from my aged eye. 
 
 One thing confirms my words : the gods abhor, 
 
 With madness scourge thee, and with terrors haunt, 
 
 Vindictive of thy guilt. What need I hear 
 
 From other witness what mine eyes behold ? 
 
 Now, Menelaus, I warn thee, mark me well : 
 
 Do not, protecting him, oppose the gods, 
 
 But leave him to the vengeance of the state, 
 
 Or never set thy foot on Sparta's shore. 
 
 My daughter by her death hath rightly paid 
 
 The debt to justice : but from him that death 
 
 Was most unjust. Oh, happy had I been, 
 
 Had I no daughters : there I am a wretch ! 
 
 CHOR. Happy his state, whe, in his children blest, 
 Hath not there felt affliction's deepest wound. 
 
 ORES. In reverence to thy age I dread to speak 
 What I well know must pierce thy heart with grief. 
 I am unholy in my mother's death, 
 But holy, as my father I avenged. 
 The veneration due to those grey hairs 
 Strikes me with awe : else I could urge my plea 
 Freely and boldly ; but thy years dismay me.
 
 ORESTES. 1 1 1 
 
 What could I do ? Let fact be weighed with fact. 
 
 My father was the author of my being ; 
 
 Thy daughter brought me forth : he gave me life, 
 
 Which she but fostered : to the higher cause 
 
 A higher reverence then I deemed was due. 
 
 Thy daughter, for I dare not call her mother, 
 
 Forsook her royal bed for a rank sty 
 
 Of secret and adulterous lust : on me 
 
 The word reflects disgrace, yet I must speak it. 
 
 vEgisthus was this private paramour : 
 
 Him first I slew, then sacrificed my mother : 
 
 An impious deed ; but I avenged my father. 
 
 Thou threatens! the just vengeance of the state : 
 
 Hear me : deserve I not the thanks of Greece ? 
 
 Should wives with ruffian boldness kill their husbands, 
 
 Then fly for refuge to their sons, and think, 
 
 Baring their breast, to captivate their pity, 
 
 These deeds would pass for nothing, as the mood, 
 
 For something or for nothing, shall incline them. 
 
 This complot have I broke, by doing what 
 
 Thy pompous language styles atrocious deeds. 
 
 My soul abhorred my mother, and I slew her, 
 
 Who, when her lord was absent, and in arms 
 
 To glorious conquest led the sons of Greece, 
 
 Betrayed him, with pollution stained his bed ; 
 
 And, conscious of her guilt, sought not t' atone it, 
 
 But, to escape his righteous vengeance, poured 
 
 Destruction on his head, and killed my father. 
 
 Now by the gods, though in a charge of blood 
 
 111 it becomes me to invoke the gods, 
 
 Had I in silence tamely borne her deeds, 
 
 Would not the murdered, justly hating me, 
 
 Have roused the Furies to torment my soul? 
 
 Or hath she only her assisting fiends, 
 
 And he no fav'ring power t" avenge his wrongs ? 
 
 Thou, when to that bad daughter thou gavst birth, 
 
 Didst give me ruin ; for through her bold crime 
 
 I lost my father, and my mother slew. 
 
 Seest thou Ulysses' wife ? Telemachus
 
 112 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Shed not her blood ; for she, unstained with vice, 
 
 Guards her chaste bed with spotless sanctity. 
 
 Seest thou Apollo, who to mortal ears 
 
 Sounds from his central cave the voice of truth ? 
 
 Him we obey in all that he commands : 
 
 Obeying his commands, I slew my mother j 
 
 Drag him then to your bar, put him to death ; 
 
 The guilt is his, not mine. What should I do ? 
 
 The guilt on him transferred, is not the god 
 
 Sufficient to absolve me ? Where shall man 
 
 Find refuge, if the god, at whose command 
 
 I did it, will not now save me from death ? 
 
 Then say not that these deeds were done not well, 
 
 But to the doers most unhappily. 
 
 If well accorded, the connubial state 
 
 From all its strings speaks perfect harmony; 
 
 If ill, at home, abroad, the harsh notes jar, 
 
 And with rude discord wound the ear of Peace. 
 
 CHOR. That Peace to wound always our sex was born, 
 Augmenting by our ills the ills of men. 
 
 TYND. What, dost thou brave me, and in proud defiance 
 So answer, as to pierce my heart with grief? 
 This pride will fire me more to urge thy death. 
 One honest task I'll add to that which drew me 
 Hither, to grace my murdered daughter's tomb : 
 This instant to th' assembled Arrives go, 
 And rouse the willing state, an easy task, 
 To crush thee, and thy sister : she deserves, 
 E'en more than thou, to die, whose accursed tongue 
 Added new fierceness to thy fierce intents, 
 Thine ears assailing with some bitter speech, 
 That Agamemnon's shade haunted her dreams, 
 That the tremendous powers below abhorred 
 Th' adulterous bed, foul e'en to man's gross sense, 
 Till all this house blazed in the flames she kindled. 
 I tell thee, Menelaus, and I will do it, 
 If thou regard my hate, or my alliance, 
 Protect him not, by the just gods I charge thee, 
 But leave him to the rigour of the laws,
 
 ORESTES. ii 
 
 Or never dare to tread on Spartan ground. 
 Hear me, and mark me : league not with the vile, 
 Nor scorn thy friends, whose breasts with virtue glow. 
 Here, my attendants, lead me from this house. 
 
 ORESTES, MENELAUS, CHORUS. 
 
 ORES. Why get thee gone, that I may plead to him, 
 Uninterrupted by thy wayward age. 
 Why dost thou bend that way, then backward turn, 
 Thoughtful thy step, absorbed in anxious care ? 
 
 MEN. Forbear, and leave me to my thoughts, perplexed 
 And unresolved which cause I should espouse. 
 
 ORES. Suspend awhile thy judgment ; hear me first, 
 First hear my plea ; weigh it, and then resolve. 
 
 MEN. Speak ; thou hast reason. Wisdom sometimes loves 
 To dwell with silence, sometimes woos the ear. 
 
 ORES. Then let me urge my plea ; and, oh ! forgive me 
 If I seem tedious : grief is fond of words. 
 Give me not aught of thine, only return 
 What from my father's grace thou hast received. 
 I ask not thy rich treasures, yet a treasure 
 Richer than all thy stores : I ask my life. 
 Is this unjust ? Lt me from thee receive 
 Something unjust : such Agamemnon was, 
 Who led to Troy th' united arms of Greece : 
 Yet was the wrong not his ; but to avenge 
 Thy wife's incontinent and foul offence. 
 For all his dangers, all his toils in war, 
 Borne as becomes a friend, in a friend's cause, 
 Give me one day for his ten years in arms : 
 To vindicate thy honour, one short day 
 Stand firm, my friend, the guardian of my life. 
 For thee at Aulis my poor sister died ; 
 I am content, nor ask Hermione 
 A sacrifice for me. In my distress 
 Protect me, pity me ; I ask no more. 
 To my unhappy father grant my life, 
 And save my sister, save her virgin years.
 
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 The house of Agamemnon sinks with me. 
 
 Impossible thou'lt say: "When danger threats, 
 
 The friend comes forth resolved, and shields his friend : 
 
 In fortune's golden smiles what need of friends ? 
 
 Her fav'ring power wants no auxiliary. 
 
 Greece sees thou lovst thy wife." I speak not this 
 
 In flattery, to wind into thy bosom ; 
 
 But I conjure thee by that love Ah me ! 
 
 How am I fall'n ! Not for myself alone 
 
 I pour my prayer, but for my father's house. 
 
 Now by the kindred blood, whose royal tide 
 
 Rolls in thy veins ; by each endearing tie 
 
 Of fond relation and fraternal love, 
 
 Think that my murdered father's injured shade 
 
 Burst from the realms of death, and hovers o'er thee; 
 
 And think, oh. think the words I speak are his. 
 
 'Tis for my life I plead, life's dear to all, 
 
 With sighs, with groans, with tears : save me, oh, save me ! 
 CHOR. Low at thy knees a woman joins her prayer ; 
 
 Oh, save them, save th' unhappy, for thou canst ! 
 MEN. I hold thee dear, Orestes, and am willing 
 
 To give my friendly aid in thy distress ; 
 
 Th' affinity of blood calls loudly on us 
 
 To share its toils, if the gods grant the power, 
 Nor shrink appalled at danger or at death ; 
 And much I wish the gods would grant this power : 
 But with a thousand toils oppressed I come, 
 And lift a single spear, whose glitt'ring point 
 No squadrons follow wedged in firm array ; 
 Few my remaining friends, and small my force. 
 With Argos then should we engage in arms, 
 We could not conquer ; but with gentle words 
 Perchance we may: this way Hope smiles on us. 
 Who would with feeble forces aim at deeds 
 Of perilous proof? 'Twere folly to attempt it. 
 When roused to rage the madd'ning populace storms, 
 Their fury, like a rolling flame, bursts forth 
 Unquenchable ; but give its violence way, 
 It spends itself, and as its force abates
 
 ORESTES. 115 
 
 Learns to obey, and yields it to your will : 
 Their passions varying thus, now rough with rage, 
 Now melting with soft pity, Wisdom marks 
 The change, and turns it to a rich account. 
 Thus Tyndarus I will move, and th' Argive state, 
 To use their supreme power with gentleness. 
 The gallant bark, that too much swells her sails, 
 Oft is o'erset, but let her pride be lowered, 
 She rides secure, and glories in the gale. 
 Impetuous rage is hateful to the gods, 
 Hateful to men : with cool unpassioned reason 
 (Discretion guides my words) I must preserve thee, 
 And not, as thou perchance mayst deem, by force ; 
 Against the stronger what can force avail ? 
 Its trophies can my single spear erect 
 Victorious o'er the ills that now assault thee ? 
 To be a suitor hath not been my use 
 At Argos, but Necessity will teach us, 
 If wise, submission to the power of Fortune. 
 
 ORESTES, CHORUS. 
 
 ORES. Thou doughty champion of thy wife, good else 
 For nought, in thy friend's cause a coward base, 
 Thus dost thou slight me, turn thee thus away ? 
 Are Agamemnon's favours thus repaid ? 
 Thou hadst no friend, my father, in thy ills. 
 Ah me ! I am betrayed ; e'en Hope forsakes me, 
 And leaves me unprotected to my fate, 
 Who on his shelt'ring power alone relied. 
 But from his Phocians, see, with hasty step 
 Here comes a friend indeed, my Pylades ! 
 A pleasing sight : for in distress a friend 
 Comes like a calm to the tossed mariner. 
 
 PYLADES, ORESTES, CHORUS. 
 
 PYL. With swift pace speed I through the city, hearing 
 Their counsels, and discerning their intents 
 T' adjudge thee and thy sister to quick death,
 
 Ii6 EURIPIDES. 
 
 But what ! How fares my friend ? What thy design ? 
 Thou partner of my soul, companion dear, 
 Friend, kinsman, brother : thou art all to me. 
 
 ORES. To speak my woes in brief then, we are lost. 
 
 PYL. Then in thy ruin is thy friend involved. 
 
 ORES. The Spartan views us with malignant eye. 
 
 PYL. A vile wife to a husband matched as vile. 
 
 ORES. To me no joy doth his arrival bring. 
 
 PYL. Is he indeed then at this land arrived? 
 
 ORES. Late, but soon found unfaithful to his friends. 
 
 PYL. And brought he his disloyal wife with him ? 
 
 ORES. In truth he brought not her, but she brought him. 
 
 PYL. Where is this pest, that hath unpeopled Greece ? 
 
 ORES. Here in my house, if I may call it mine. 
 
 PYL. What to thy father's brother didst thou say ? 
 
 ORES. Not to see me and my poor sister slain. 
 
 PYL. Now, by the gods, what answer did he give? 
 
 ORES. Timid and cautious, like a faithless friend. 
 
 PYL. With what excuses his denial cloked ? 
 
 ORES. The father of these female worthies came. 
 
 PYL Incensed and chafing for his daughter's death ? 
 
 ORES E'en so ; for him my father was disdained. 
 
 PYL. And wants he courage here t' assert thy cause ? 
 
 ORES. No warrior he, but among women brave. 
 
 PYL. Then have thy woes their full weight ; thou must die. 
 
 ORES. First the deciding vote must pass against us. 
 
 PYL. Deciding what ? I tremble as I ask. 
 
 ORES. Or life or death. Few words speak <jreat events. 
 
 PYL. Fly then, and with thy sister leave this house. 
 
 ORES. Seest thou the guards that close their weapons round ? 
 
 PYL. Each street I saw, each pass secured with arms. 
 
 ORES. We are invested, like a sea-girt town. 
 
 PYL. Mine also is misfortune, ruin mine. 
 
 ORES. Ruin! From whence? Thy ills augment my woes. 
 
 PYL. My father in his rage hath banished me. 
 
 ORES. What, on some public, or a private charge ? 
 
 PYL. As impious, aiding in thy mother's death. 
 
 ORES. Unhappy, shah thou suffer in my ills ? 
 
 PYL. I shall not, like the Spartan, shrink from them
 
 ORESTES. 117 
 
 ORES. Like mine, should Argos meditate thy death ! 
 
 PYL. They have no right ; I am no subject here. 
 
 ORES. The many, when bad rulers prompt to ill, 
 Regard no rights. 
 
 PYL. But when good lead to good, 
 
 Their counsels well advised breathe temperate wisdom. 
 
 ORES. Well, be it so. But shall we now consult 
 Our common good? 
 
 PYL. Propose th' important theme. 
 
 ORES. To urge my plea before them. 
 
 PYL. Vindicate 
 
 Thy deed as righteous ? 
 
 ORES. Righteous, as avenging 
 
 My father's blood. 
 
 PYL. Harshly, I fear, their brows 
 
 Will frown upon thee. 
 
 ORES. Should fear hold me mute, 
 
 And yield me tame to death ? 
 
 PYL. Unmanly that. 
 
 ORES. What should I do ? 
 
 PLY. Hast thou, remaining here, 
 
 Prospect of safety ? 
 
 ORES. Safety dwells not here. 
 
 PYL. In going hast thou hope ? 
 
 ORES. Should it take well, 
 
 It might succeed. 
 
 PYL. Attempt it boldly then ; 
 
 Go : if to die, 'tis nobler to die there. 
 
 ORES. My cause is just. 
 
 PYL. Would heaven they so may think ! 
 
 ORES. Thus I avoid the charge of guilty fear. 
 Some one, indignant at my father's death, 
 Perchance may pity me. 
 
 PYL. I see it all, 
 
 And the bright lustre thy high birth throws round thee. 
 
 ORES. I will not stay, and like a coward slave 
 Die tamely here. 
 
 PYL. I praise thy noble spirit. 
 
 ORES. But to my sister shall we make this known ?
 
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 PYL. No, I conjure thee. 
 
 ORES. She would be all tears. 
 
 PYL. Avoid the omen then ; in silence go ; 
 Nor let her grief unseasonably detain thee. 
 
 ORES. Yet one distress afflicts me : should the Furies 
 Rouse all their terrors, and affright my soul. 
 
 PYL. My care shall watch around thee. 
 
 ORES. To attend 
 
 A man disordered thus, to guard, to hold him, 
 Is an unpleasing office. 
 
 PYL. But for thee 
 
 Delightful to my love. 
 
 ORES. Yet have a care 
 
 Lest my contagious frenzy seize on thee. 
 
 PYL. No more of frenzy. 
 
 ORES. Wilt thou not be shocked 
 
 At this hard task ? 
 
 PYL. No office shocks a friend. 
 
 ORES. Be thou my pilot then. 
 
 PYL. A welcome charge. 
 
 ORES. And guide my footsteps to my father's tomb, 
 That I may pour my supplications there, 
 And move his shade to aid me. 
 
 PYL. Pious this, 
 
 And just. 
 
 ORES. But from my mother's lead me far : 
 Let me not see it. 
 
 PYL. All is hostile there. 
 
 But haste thee, ere the fatal vote be passed. 
 Lean on me, let me throw my arm around thee, 
 Thus hold thee, thus support thy feeble limbs, 
 And bear thee through the crowd of gazing eyes 
 Regardless. Where shall friendship show its faith, 
 If now in thy afflictions I forsake thee ? 
 
 ORES. This is to have a friend : compared to this 
 What are the ties of blood ? The man who melts 
 With social sympathy, though not allied, 
 Is than a thousand kinsmen of more worth,
 
 ORESTES. 119 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Strophe. 
 
 Th' exalted state, th' imperial power, 
 Which spread o'er Greece its ample sway, 
 And, girt with war, on the barbaric shore 
 Taught the proud streams of Simois to obey, 
 Withdraw their glories. Discord (as of old 
 Fierce 'midst the sons of Tantalus she rose, 
 And for the rich ram fleeced with gold 
 Prepared the feast of horrid woes, 
 Whence Vengeance bared the flaming sword, 
 And blood for blood remorseless poured) 
 Now through the house of Atreus lords it wide, 
 And filled with carnage swells her sanguine pride. 
 
 Antistrophe. 
 
 Honour is honour now no more, 
 Since with fierce rage he dared invade 
 His parent's breast, and, his hand stained with gore, 
 Waved to the golden sun his crimson blade. 
 Ill actions are displeasing to the skies, 
 And moon-eyed Folly marks them for her own. 
 Heardst thou not Clytemnestra's cries, 
 Her thrilling shrieks, her dying moan ? 
 " The mother by the son to bleed ! 
 Ah, dare not : 'tis an impious deed : 
 Nor, in wild rev'rence to thy father's name, 
 Blot with eternal infamy thy fame ! '' 
 
 Epode. 
 
 Is there in all heaven's angry store 
 Misfortune, sorrow, sickness, pain, 
 Is there an ill that racks, that tortures more 
 Than by th' unpitying son the parent slain ?
 
 120 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Ah spare, unhappy youth, thy mother spare ! 
 
 'Tis done : like vultures see the Furies rise, 
 And rend his soul with wild despair : 
 See how he rolls his haggard eyes ! 
 When from her gold-embroidered vest 
 Suppliant she bared her heaving breast, 
 
 Ah, couldst thou strike ? He struck. O deed abhorred ! 
 
 And ruthless in her bosom plunged the sword. 
 
 ELECTRA, CHORUS. 
 
 ELEC. Ye virgins, hath the poor Orestes, struck 
 With madness from the gods, rushed from the house ? 
 
 CHOR. Not so ; but to th' assembled state of Argos 
 He goes, resolved to strive in this hard contest, 
 Where life to him and thee, or death's the prize. 
 
 ELEC. Ah me, what hath he done ? Who counselled this ? 
 
 CHOR.. Pylades. But this messenger will tell thee 
 All that hath passed touching thy brother there. 
 
 MESSENGER, ELECTRA, CHORUS. 
 
 . MESS. Unhappy daughter of that mighty chief, 
 Who led the powers of Greece, revered Electra, 
 How shall my tongue disclose this tale of woe ? 
 
 ELEC. Ah me ! We are no more. Thy falt'ring voice 
 In broken accents speaks the tragic tale. 
 
 MESS. E'en so : the fatal sentence is pronounced. 
 This day thy brother and thyself must die. 
 
 ELEC. Long have my fears, presaging this event, 
 With mournful expectation sunk my heart. 
 But was there no debate ? Whose ruling voice 
 Procured this sentence ? Tell me, good old man, 
 Arm they their hands with stones ? Or by the sword 
 Together sink we in one common death ? 
 
 MESS. I left my rural cottage, and the gates 
 Of Argos entered, with fond wish to learn 
 To thee and to Orestes what had chanced, 
 Prompted by that high reverence which I bore
 
 ORESTES. 121 
 
 Thy father ; for his house supported me, 
 
 Though poor, yet not unfaithful. Soon I saw 
 
 The thronging people hurry to that height 
 
 Where, as they say, ^gyptus gave them seats 
 
 When Danaus was adjudged to punishment. 
 
 Astonished at the sight, I asked if war 
 
 New threat'ning roused the city thus : an Argive 
 
 Gave answer, " Seest thou not Orestes there ? 
 
 He goes to plead his cause ; and life or death 
 
 Hangs on his voice." I looked, and near me saw 
 
 O piteous spectacle ! what least I hoped 
 
 To see, thy brother : as he walked, his eyes 
 
 Fixed on the ground, his fever-weakened limbs, 
 
 Supported by his friend, whose faithful care, 
 
 Touched with like grief, guided his feeble steps. 
 
 Soon as th' assembly sate, the herald's voice 
 
 Proclaimed free speech to all who willed to speak, 
 
 Whether Orestes for his mother slain 
 
 Should die, or not. Talthybius first arose, 
 
 Who with thy father stormed the towers of Troy ; 
 
 Double and dark his speech, as one who lives 
 
 The slave of greatness : to thy father high 
 
 Respect he paid, but to thy brother's praise 
 
 Silent, in honourable terms involved 
 
 His ill intent, as that he modelled laws 
 
 'Gainst parents not beseeming : but his eye 
 
 Always glanced cheerful on ^Egisthus' friends : 
 
 For such their nature ; the warm shine of fortune 
 
 Allures them, vassals to the rich and great. 
 
 Next rose the royal Diomede : his voice 
 
 Allowed not death, but exile, to atone 
 
 The deed. Discordant clamours echoed round, 
 
 As approbation prompted or dislike. 
 
 An Argive, not an Argive, next arose, 
 
 His birth barbaric, of licentious tongue, 
 
 Presumptuous, turbulent, and prompt to lead 
 
 With empty noise the populace to ill : 
 
 For the smooth tongue, that charms to mischief, bears 
 
 A pestilent power ; whilst Wisdom, aiming still
 
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 At virtue, brings its honourable thought, 
 
 Though late, to glorious issue. Her grave voice 
 
 Authority, that owes its best grace to it, 
 
 Should countenance, and check the factious tongue. 
 
 This wretch, suborned by Tyndarus, clamoured loud 
 
 For death, the harshest death, involving thee 
 
 In the same ruin. But another rose 
 
 Of different sentiment ; no sightly gaud, 
 
 But one in whose plain form the eye might note 
 
 A manly, free, direct integrity, 
 
 Tempered with prudence : one who rarely joined 
 
 The city circles, in his small domain, 
 
 Which his own culturing hand had taught to smile, 
 
 Passing in honest peace his blameless days. 
 
 His voice to Agamemnon's son decreed 
 
 A crown, his noble father who avenged 
 
 By slaying that abandoned impious woman, 
 
 Whose vile deeds checked the soldier's generous flame ; 
 
 For who in distant fields, at honour's call, 
 
 Would wield his martial arms, if in his absence 
 
 Pollution stain his wife, and his pure bed 
 
 Be made a foul sty of adulterous lust ? 
 
 The virtuous all approved. Orestes now, 
 
 Preventing further argument, advanced, 
 
 And thus addressed them : " Ye illustrious Argives, 
 
 Who from a line of ancient heroes draw 
 
 Your high-born race, to vindicate your honour, 
 
 Not less than to avenge my father's death, 
 
 I did this deed ! For should the husband's blood 
 
 Leave on the wife's hand no foul stain, full soon 
 
 The purple tide would flow, or you must sink 
 
 O shame to manhood ! vile slaves to your wives. 
 
 Now she, that to my father's bed was false, 
 
 Hath died for it. If you require my life, 
 
 The law hath lost its force ; and who shall say 
 
 His own life is secure, as these bold deeds 
 
 From frequency draw force and mock at justice ? " 
 
 These truths were lost in air ; and that vile talker, 
 
 Whose malice called for death to both, prevailed.
 
 ORESTES. 123 
 
 Harsh was the sentence, and th' unhappy youth 
 Scarce gained this sad indulgence, leave to die 
 By his own hand this day. Thou too must die. 
 Him from th' assembly Pylades with tears 
 Leads this way, by a fe\v, a faithful few, 
 Accompanied, whose eyes, melting with pity, 
 Rain bitter dew. He comes, a dismal sight, 
 To pierce thy soul with grief. But haste, prepare 
 The sword : thou too must die : thy high-born race 
 Avails not, nor the Oracle of Phoebus, 
 Whose fatal answer brings destruction on you. 
 
 CHOR. Why, miserable virgin, dost thou bend 
 Thy clouded eye to th' earth ? \Vhy silent thus ? 
 Give thy griefs voice, and let thy sorrows flow. 
 
 ELECTRA. 
 
 Strophe. 
 
 Yes, I will let my sorrows flow, 
 And give to grief the melancholy strain, 
 
 And, as the mournful notes complain 
 With all the heart-felt agony of woe, 
 
 These hands my bleeding cheeks shall tear, 
 
 And beat this head in wild despair, 
 Devoted to the queen, that rules beneath 
 
 The realms of darkness and of death. 
 Daughters of Argos, with loud shrieks deplore 
 
 The house of Atreus, now no more. 
 
 Fall'n, by too severe a fate, 
 From the proud glories of its splendent state. 
 
 Antistrophe. 
 
 Low, low they lie, th' imperial line, 
 Th' imperial race of Pelops vanished, gone ; 
 
 No trace remains, no name, no son ; 
 Their vaunted honours in the dust decline.
 
 124 EURIPIDES. 
 
 From envious gods these ruins come, 
 
 And the harsh city's bloody doom. 
 Short is the day of life, each little hour 
 
 With toils, with mis'ries clouded o'er ; 
 Should bright'ning hope, to cheer the troubled day, 
 
 Pour through the gloom a transient ray, 
 
 Fate comes, and o'er the darkened scene 
 Spreads the deep horrors of its dreary reign. 
 
 Epode. 
 
 Oh for an eagle's wing, whose rapid flight 
 
 Might bear me to th' ethereal height, 
 
 Where to Olympus fixed the golden chain 
 
 Suspends the pond'rous, trembling mass : 
 
 There should my woe-wild notes complain 
 
 To the hoar author of my race. 
 
 From Tantalus our lineage springs, 
 
 A mighty race of sceptred kings : 
 
 Great as they are, around them wait 
 
 The vengeful ministers of fate ; 
 
 Since Pelops, with impetuous force, 
 
 Lashed his proud steeds, and urged their fiery course ; 
 
 And as the bounding wheels they bore 
 
 Along Geraestus' rock-rough shore, 
 
 Saw Myrtilus extended there, 
 
 Hurled headlong from the rapid car ; 
 
 With gloomy joy he smiled, and gave 
 
 The mangled limbs to stain the foaming wave. 
 
 To Atreus thence pernicious came 
 
 From Maia's son the fatal Ram, 
 
 Who gave his golden fleece to shine 
 
 Destructive, a destrjctive sign. 
 
 Hence, Discord, hence thy horrid deeds 
 
 Startled the sun's indignant steeds ; 
 
 Back to the East they wing their way, 
 
 And meet the Morns affrighted ray; 
 
 The Pleiads, hast'ning to advance, 
 
 Start back, and change their sevenfold dance.
 
 ORESTES. 12 5 
 
 Hence false Aerope in honeyed smiles 
 Concealed her wanton, ruinous wiles ; 
 Hence to Thyestes' horrid feast 
 C.une slaughter, a tremendous guest; 
 And, her hand reeking with my father's blood, 
 Draws from my heart the purple flood. 
 
 CHOR. But see thy brother, by the Argive state 
 Condemned to bleed, advances slow ; and with him 
 The faithful Pylades, with a brother's love, 
 Shares in his griefs, and guides his feeble steps. 
 
 ELECTRA, ORESTES, PYLADES, CHORUS. 
 
 ELEC. Ah me, my brother ! Whilst I yet behold thee 
 Let me indulge my grief, ere yet the tomb, 
 Yet ere the solemn pyre in its black shade 
 Wraps our dead limbs, let me indulge my grief, 
 My frentic grief; fix my fond eyes upon thee, 
 That never, never must behold thee more. 
 
 ORES. Wilt thou not cease these womanish wailings, meet 
 This harsh decree with silence, and abide, 
 Firmly abide the rigour of our fate ? 
 
 ELEC. Can I be silent, when our eyes no more 
 Shall see yon golden sun's irradiate light ? 
 
 ORES. Kill me not thou ; forbear ! Enough of death 
 Have I already from the hands of Argos. 
 
 ELEC. Thy youth I mourn, and thy untimely death ; 
 Life was thy due, when, ah ! thou art no more. " 
 
 ORES. Now by the gods, throw not this softness round me, 
 Nor make th' unmanly tear drop at our woes. 
 
 ELEC. We die ; and shall the tear not flow ? That dew 
 Pity will shed o'er the lost joys of life. 
 
 ORES. This day must we needs die ; prepare we then 
 The sword, or other instrument of death. 
 
 ELEC. My brother, do thou kill me ; let no Argive 
 Touch with his rude hand Agamemnon's daughter. 
 
 ORES. No : in thy mother's blood I have enough; 
 I shed not thine ; but by thy own hand die.
 
 126 EURIPIDES. 
 
 ELEC. I will ; and not desert thy honest sword. 
 But let me throw my fond arms round thy neck. 
 
 ORES. Vain is the joy, if yet it be a joy, 
 In death to soothe thee with a last embrace. 
 
 ELEC. My brother ! O that dearest, best-loved name, 
 Dear to thy sister, partner of my soul ! 
 
 ORES. Why wilt thou melt me thus ? And yet I wish, 
 Returning thy embrace, to fold thee close, 
 Close in my arms ; nor modesty forbids ; 
 It is my sister. Let me clasp thee then, 
 And press thee to my bosom, fondly press thee. 
 This sweet exchange of love is all our woes 
 Allow us for the names of wedded joys. 
 
 ELEC. Oh, may the same sword end us, the same tomb 
 Close in its cedar hearsement our cold limbs ! 
 
 ORES. That would be joy ; but destitute of friends 
 Who shall inurn us in one common tomb ? 
 
 ELEC. Did Menelaus my father then betray ? 
 Did not the wretch plead earnest for thy life ? 
 
 ORES. He durst not show his false eye , but, his hopes 
 Fixed on the sceptre, feared to save his friends. 
 But let us in our death give shining proof 
 Of our illustrious birth ; my hand shall show 
 My high nobility, and plunge the sword 
 Intrepid through my breast : dare thou the like. 
 Thou, Pylades, be umpire of our death ; 
 With decent care compose our breathless limbs, 
 And lay them in my father's sepulchre. 
 Farewell ! I go to execute the deed. 
 
 PYL. Yet stay ; one charge against thee must I bring, 
 Shouldst thou but hope I would survive thy death. 
 
 ORES. And what avails it that thou die with me ? 
 
 PYL. Without thy converse what can life avail ? 
 
 ORES. Thou hast not slain thy mother : I slew mine. 
 
 PYL. I shared the deed : the suff ring I should share. 
 
 ORES. Oh, save thee for thy father ; die not with me : 
 Thou hast a country ; that name's lost to me : 
 Thou hast a father's house, hast greatness, wealth. 
 If this ill-fated maid, whom to thy arms,
 
 ORESTES. 127 
 
 The sanction ot our friendship, I betrothed 
 
 If she be lost, some other nuptial bed 
 
 Awaits to bless thee with a father's j oys. 
 
 Our dear relation is no more : my friend, 
 
 Thou, whose sweet converse was my soul's delight, 
 
 Farewell ! For thee the joys of life remain; 
 
 To us they wither in the shade of death. 
 
 PYL. Wide from my honest purpose dost thou stray. 
 May not the fertile earth, nor the bright air 
 Receive my blood, if ever I forsake thee, 
 To spare myself if ever I forsake thee. 
 Together I designed, together wrought 
 Thy mother's death, which draws this fate on thee : 
 Together will I die with thee, and her : 
 Dear to my soul, affianced to my bed, 
 I deem her as my wife. Should I return 
 To Delphi, the high citadel of Phocis, 
 Dare I name honour, if united thus 
 Whilst fortune favoured your high state, but now 
 The false friend shrink from your adversity ? 
 Not so : these things demand my deep regard. 
 Yet, ere we die, some measures let us form 
 T' afflict with grief the heart of Menelaus. 
 
 ORES. Let me see that, my friend, then let me die ! 
 
 PYL. Be then advised, and let the keen sword wait. 
 
 ORES. Shall then my just revenge burst on his head ? 
 
 PYL. No more : these women ; I distrust their faith. 
 
 ORES. They are all truth, all friendship ; fear them not. 
 
 PYL. Let us slay Helen : that would grieve his soul. 
 
 ORES. How ? I approve it, be it nobly done. 
 
 PYL. Let the sword end her : in thy house she lurks. 
 
 ORES. She doth, and seals its treasures for her own. 
 
 PYL. Espoused to Pluto she will seal no more. 
 
 ORES. But how, around her that barbaric train ? 
 
 PYL. What are they ? For the Phrygians nought I dread. 
 
 ORES. Marshals of mirrors and cosmetic washes. 
 
 PYL. Brings she these Trojan gewgaws back to Greece? 
 
 ORES. Greece ! 'Tis a paltry spot ; she breathes not in it. 
 
 PYL. Well may the free disdain a host of slaves.
 
 128 EURIPIDES. 
 
 ORES. T' achieve this deed, twice would I die with joy. 
 
 PYL. Twice would I die, might I thy vengeance aid. 
 
 ORES. Disclose thy purpose, and accomplish it. 
 
 PYL. We enter, as in readiness to die. 
 
 ORES. Thus far I comprehend thee, but no more. 
 
 PYL. To her with loud laments bewail our fate. 
 
 ORES. T' extort the tear, though her heart bounds with 
 joy. 
 
 PYL. This be her hour : the next may we enjoy. 
 
 ORES. How then to execute the destined deed ? 
 
 PYL. Bear we our swords concealed beneath our vests. 
 
 ORES. But can destruction reach her 'midst her train ? 
 
 PYL. Confined apart nought shall that crew avail. 
 
 ORES. And if one dares to clamour, let him die. 
 
 PYL. In that th* immediate exigence will guide us. 
 
 ORES. The death of Helen then, that is the word. 
 
 PYL. Agreed. That honour dictates this, now hear. 
 To dra v the sword against a virtuous woman 
 Would blot our names with infamy. Her blood 
 All Greece demands, for sons, for fathers slain 
 In her cursed cause, for the deep sigh that rends 
 The widowed matron's desolated heart. 
 Shouts of applause would rend the air, thick fires 
 Blaze to the gods, and many a fervent prayer 
 Draw blessings on our heads. No longer called 
 The murderer of thy mother, thou shalt hear 
 Th' applauding voice of Greece with triumph hail thee 
 Revenger of the mischief-working Helen. 
 What, shall the treacherous Menelaus then smile, 
 Proud of his high success ; and, whilst thy father, 
 Thyself, thy sister fall, thy mother too, 
 (But I forbear ; for honour at her name 
 Dims its pale fires,) seize thy rich-treasured house 
 As his inheritance, and in amorous folds 
 Clasp his fair wife, by Agamemnon's spear 
 Recovered to his arms ? Let me not live, 
 If I not draw the gloomy sword against her. 
 Failing in this, we'll set the house on flames, 
 And nobly in the blazing ruins die.
 
 ORESTES. 129 
 
 One must succeed : the glory shall be ours 
 To die with honour, or with honour live. 
 
 CHOR. This guilty fair, a scandal to her sex, 
 Merits th' abhorrence of each virtuous dame. 
 
 ORES. Life hath no blessing like a prudent friend, 
 Than treasured wealth more precious, than the power 
 Of monarchs, and the people's loud applause. 
 Thou on ^Egisthus guidedst my just rage, 
 Nor in my dangers wast thou absent : now 
 Thou givst me vengeance on mine enemies, 
 Nor shrinks thy firm foot back. But I forbear, 
 Nor with intemperate praise thine ear offend. 
 I will not tamely die, but in my fall 
 .Pull ruin on my foes : they too shall weep, 
 The traitors ; they shall have their share of woe. 
 Th' illustrious Agamemnon was my sire, 
 Imperial chief of Greece ; no tyrant he, 
 But clothed with th' awful power of the just gods. 
 I will not blot his splendours, like a slave 
 Crouching to death ; but with a liberal pride 
 Throw life away, first glorying in revenge. 
 Whiche'er succeeds, we triumph : yet if thence 
 Despair force safety, if the sword should glance 
 From us and wound their breasts, I have my wish. 
 Transport is in the thought, and the light words, 
 Charged with no costly pleasure, soothe my soul. 
 
 ELEC. And this suggests a thought which lifts my mind 
 To hope success and safety to us all. 
 
 ORES. The prescience of a god inspires thy voice. 
 But how ? Oh say, for wisdom too is thine. 
 
 ELEC. Then hear ; and thou, my brother, mark my words. 
 
 ORES. Speak : there is pleasure in the hope of good. 
 
 ELEC. The daughter of this Helen dost thou know ? 
 
 ORES. The fair Hermione, our mother's charge ? 
 
 ELEC. She now is gone to Clytemnestra's tomb. 
 
 ORES. With what intent ? Thy words awaken hope. 
 
 ELEC. To pour libations for her mother there. 
 
 ORES. As means of safety dost thou tell me this ? 
 
 ELEC. Her, when she enters, as an hostage seize. 
 

 
 130 EURIPIDES. 
 
 ORES. And what relief can thy thoughts hope from her ? 
 
 ELEC. If Menelaus shall for his slaughtered wife 
 Attempt revenge on thee, or me, or him 
 (For the close bond of friendship makes us one), 
 Tell him that thou wilt kill Hermione, 
 And hold the drawn sword to the virgin's breast : 
 If trembling for his daughter, when he sees 
 His wife all welt'ring in her blood, he saves 
 Thy life, the virgin give him back unhurt. 
 But should his wild ungovernable rage 
 Demand thy life, plunge deep th 3 unpitying steel. 
 Yet I am well assured his rage, though fierce 
 At first, will soften soon ; for Nature formed him 
 Nor bold, nor brave : this then I deem the fort 
 That guards our lives. You have what I advise. 
 
 ORES. Thou excellence, that to the form divine, 
 The sweet attractive charm of female grace, 
 Hast joined a manly spirit, shalt thou die ? 
 Shalt thou, my friend, deplore her loss, with whom, 
 Accomplished as she is, a life of love 
 Were happiness supreme ? 
 
 PYL. Would heaven indulge 
 
 My warm wish, towered Phocis should receive her, 
 With golden Hymen smiling in our train. 
 
 ORES. When will Hermione return ? Our toils, 
 If we can take the young one, must succeed, 
 And gloriously entangle the old savage. 
 
 ELEC. Each moment, such the distance, I expect her, 
 
 ORES. 'Tis well. My sister, my Electra, wait 
 Here, and receive the virgin. Let thine eye 
 Keep wary watch ; if friend, or partisan, 
 Or e'en my father's brother to the house 
 Approach to hinder us, some signal give, 
 Or beat the door, or raise thy shrilling voice. 
 And now, my friend, still faithful to my toils, 
 Address we to this great emprise, and ent'ring 
 Each with the sword of justice arm our hands. 
 And thou, who in the gloomy house of night 
 Hast thy sad dwelling, father, royal shade,
 
 ORESTES. 131 
 
 Thy son, Orestes, calls thee ! At my prayers 
 Assistant come : for thee these sufferings fall 
 Unjustly on my head, for my just deeds. 
 Betrayed by thy base brother, 'gainst his wife 
 My stern intents are bent : aid our revenge. 
 
 ELEC. Father, if in the realms beneath thou hear 
 Thy children call, oh come ! For thee we die. 
 
 PYL. Spirit of Agamemnon, kindred shade, 
 Hear me too, hear thy suppliant : save thy children ! 
 
 ORES. I slew my mother. 
 
 PYL. My hand touched the sword. 
 
 ELEC. And my bold counsels prompted to the deed. 
 
 ORES. T' avenge thee, father. 
 
 ELEC. Nor did I betray thee. 
 
 PYL. Hear this, indignant shade, and save thy children ! 
 
 ORES. Accept th' oblation of these tears. 
 
 ELEC. Accept 
 
 These groans . 
 
 PYL. Now cease ; and haste we to the deed. 
 
 If to the realms beneath prayers wing their way, 
 He hears. Thou Jove, our great progenitor, 
 Awfully just, to him, to me, to her 
 Extend thy guardian power ; this trinal band 
 One cause, one safety, or one ruin joins : 
 We live together or together die. 
 
 ELECTRA, CHORUS. 
 
 ELEC. Virgins of high Pelasgian race, 
 
 Achaia's pride, Mycenae's grace ! 
 CHOR. Why, royal maid, these plaintive strains ? 
 
 That name, that title yet remains. 
 ELEC. Divide, divide ! With careful view 
 
 Watch you the street, the entrance you. 
 CHOR. And why to us this task assigned ? 
 
 Unfold, sweet friend, unfold thy mind. 
 ELEC. Lest any, standing near the gate, 
 
 Find in this scene of blood her fate, 
 ist SEMICHOR. Haste, to your stations quickly run : 
 
 My watch be towards the rising sun. 
 
 E 2
 
 132 EURIPIDES. 
 
 2nd SEMICHOR. Be mine with cautious care addrest 
 
 To where he sinks him in the west. 
 ELEC. Now here, now there, now far, now nigh, 
 
 Quick glancing dart th' observant eye. 
 ist SEMICHOR. With fond affection we obey, 
 
 Our eyes quick glancing ev'ry way. 
 ELEC. Glance through that length of hair, which flows 
 
 Light waving o'er your shaded brows. 
 ist SEMICHOR. This way a man comes hast'ning down ; 
 
 His garb bespeaks some simple clown. 
 ELEC. Undone, undone, should he disclose 
 
 These couched, armed lions to their foes, 
 ist SEMICHOR. He passes on, suppress thy fear, 
 
 And all this way again is clear. 
 
 ELECTRA, to 2nd SEMICHORUS. 
 
 And that way doth no footstep rude 
 
 Disturb the wished-for solitude ? 
 2nd SEMICHOR. This way no rude step beats the ground, 
 
 But all is still, all safe around. 
 ELEC. Patience exhausted bears no more : 
 
 Near will I listen at the door. 
 
 Favoured with silence, why so slow 
 
 To let the purple torrent flow ? 
 
 Blinded by beauty's dazzling ray 
 
 Do your charmed swords refuse t' obey? 
 
 They hear not. Roused at these alarms 
 
 Some Argive soon will rush in arms ; 
 
 And in her aid vindictive spread 
 
 Horror and ruin on our head. 
 
 "Watch, virgins, watch with strictest care, 
 
 Repose hath nothing to do here. 
 CHOR. With transverse watch our heedful eye 
 
 Each various way 
 
 HEL. Io, Pelasgian Argos, I am slain ! [Within. 
 
 ELEC. Hark! Their bold hands are in the bloody act. 
 
 It was the cry of Helena, I deem. 
 CHOR. O Jove, eternal power, hear us, and ever 
 
 Protect our friends I
 
 ORESTES. 133 
 
 HEL. My dearest Menelaus, 
 
 I die ! Where art thou ? Fly, oh fly to save me ! 
 ELEC. Kill, slay, strike, wound, dispatch, destroy : 
 
 With iron smiles of gloomy joy 
 
 Plunge deep the huge tempestuous blade, 
 
 For blood, for death, for carnage made, 
 
 Deep in her breast. She basely fled 
 
 Her father's house, her husband's bed : 
 
 Hence many a Greek in battle slain 
 
 Lies mould'ring on the Phrygian plain : 
 
 Hence, to call forth the bursting tear, 
 
 The arrowy shower, the hurtling spear, 
 
 And hence Scamander's silver flood 
 
 Whirls his swoln eddies stained with blood. 
 CHOR. Hark ! hark ! I hear the sound of feet : 
 
 The marble pavement now they beat. 
 ELEC. Whilst slaughter is at work, my virgin friends, 
 Hermione comes : cease we the measure then : 
 She walks into our toils, a goodly prize. 
 Silent resume your stations ; fixed your eye, 
 Let not your countenance betray the deed. 
 My eye shall take again its mournful cast, 
 As unacquainted with this havoc here. 
 
 HERMIONE, ELECTRA, CHORUS. 
 
 ELEC. From Clytemnestra's tomb comest thou, virgin 
 Thy hallowed offerings and libations paid ? 
 
 HERM. I have appeased her shade. But from this house 
 The voice of loud lament ere my approach 
 Struck my astonished ear : it makes me tremble. 
 
 ELEC. Well it beseems us : we have cause for cries. 
 
 HERM. Be thy voice tuned to good. Is there aught new? 
 
 ELEC. Orestes and myself are doomed to die. 
 
 HERM. Be it not so, by blood to me allied ! 
 
 ELEC. Necessity lays its iron yoke on us. 
 
 HERM. For this did these laments sound from the house ? 
 
 ELEC. Suppliant at Helen's feet he raised the cry. 
 
 HERM. Who? For my knowledge on thy words depends. 
 
 ELEC. The poor Orestes, for his life and mine.
 
 134 EURIPIDES. 
 
 HERM. Just cause for lamentation hath this house. 
 
 ELEC. Can nature know a stronger ? But come thou, 
 Join in the supplication of thy friends, 
 Fall at thy mother's knees how blest her state ! 
 That Menelaus allow not that we die. 
 O thou, who from my mother's hand receivdst 
 Thy infant nurture, look with pity on us, 
 Our woes alleviate, to the trial go : 
 My foot shall lead, sweet prop of all our hopes ! 
 
 HERM. And willingly I follow : if my voice, 
 My prayers, my power avail, ye shall not die. 
 
 ELEC. You there within the house, ye arme'd friends, 
 Will you not seize your prey ? 
 
 HERM. Ah, who are these 
 
 Terrible to mine eye ! 
 
 ORES, No noise, no cry ! ^Advancing 
 
 To us, not to thyself, thou bringest safety. 
 
 ELEC. Here, seize her, seize her ! To her trembling breast 
 Point your keen swords, and awe her into silence. 
 Let Menelaus perceive he hath found men, 
 Not Phrygian slaves : men, whose bold spirits dare 
 Retort his foul wrongs on his own base head. [They lead her off. 
 Now, my loved virgins, raise your voices high ; 
 Before the house ring out the notes of woe, 
 That this bold deed spread no alarm, nor call 
 Th' astonished Argives to these royal gates, 
 Till I see Helen rolling in her blood, 
 Or from the slaves attending learn her fate. 
 
 CHOR. Justice unsheathed her awful sword, 
 
 And Vengeance snatched it from her hand : - 
 From heaven her rapid flight she poured, 
 And plunged in Helen's breast the glitt'ring brand. 
 For this accursed, this fatal fair 
 Filled Greece with many a mournful tear, 
 Since the pernicious Phrygian boy 
 Enamoured bore her wanton charms to Troy. 
 Hush, hush ! the palace door resounds ; break off. 
 A Phrygian slave comes forth : learn we from him 
 What fate hath wrought within.
 
 ORESTES. 135 
 
 PHRYGIAN, CHORUS. 
 
 PHRY. The Grecian sword from death I fled, 
 In these barbaric sandals was my flight, 
 Climbing the pillar's sculptured head, 
 And o'er the cedar rafter's height : 
 For th' unkind earth refused to save 
 A flying, a barbaric slave. 
 Whither, ah, whither shall I fly ? 
 Oh say, ye virgin strangers, say, 
 Mount the grey regions of the sky, 
 Or through the foaming billows dash my way, 
 Where, the firm globe encircling wide, 
 Vexed Ocean rolls his roaring tide ? 
 
 CHOR. Servant of Helen, Phrygian, whence these cries? 
 
 PHRY. O Ilium, Ilium ! Woe, woe, woe ! 
 
 Ye towers, the fertile Phrygia's stately boast ! 
 
 sacred Ida's pine-crowned brow ! 
 
 1 mourn, I mourn your glories lost : 
 For you these doleful notes complain, 
 A mournful, a barbaric strain. 
 From Leda's egg, the Swan her sire, 
 The beauteous, baleful Helen rose : 
 Whose eye on heaven-built Troy glares fire, 
 And the rich seat of Ganymede o'erthrows : 
 Hence flows, for chiefs, for heroes slain, 
 The mournful, the barbaric strain. 
 
 CHOR. No longer hold us in suspense ; relate 
 Each circumstance : conjecture errs from truth. 
 
 PHRY. It is the song of death ; your pardon then 
 That I indulged the melancholy strain. 
 In Asia with barbaric voice we raise 
 These notes of woe, when by the ruthless sword 
 The blood of kings is shed upon the earth. 
 But to my tale. Of lion port came in 
 Two of your Grecians : father to the one 
 Th' illustrious leader of your troops : and one 
 The son of Strophius, of deep reserve,
 
 136 EURIPIDES. 
 
 And dang'rous, dark design ; such was the chief 
 Of Ithaca, but faithful to his friends, 
 In battle bold, and in the works of war 
 Of sage experience ; as a dragon fierce. 
 Perdition on his silence, which concealed 
 Designs of death. Together they advanced 
 To the bright queen whom Paris called his wife, 
 Their eyes suffused with tears, humble their mien, 
 And at her knees, on each side one, they fell 
 Besieging her. Back start the slaves, back starts 
 Each Phrygian minister, some fearing fraud, 
 More unsuspicious some, whilst others thought 
 This dragon, crimson with his mother's blood, 
 The beauteous Spartnn in his toils enclosed. 
 
 CHOR. Where then wast thou ? Hadst thou first fled through 
 fear? 
 
 PHRY. I then was standing, in our Phrygian mode 
 Was standing near, and with the feathered fan 
 Raised the soft gales to breathe upon her cheeks, 
 In our barbaric mode, to bid their breath 
 Sport in the ringlets of her waving hair. 
 Her curious fingers guide the thread, the spoils 
 Of Phrygia, whose rich te-xture formed the woof 
 T' adorn the purple pall, a mournful present 
 To Clytemnestra. With mild voice Orestes 
 Entreats her to arise, and go with him 
 To an age-honoured altar, in old times 
 The seat of Pelops, his great ancestor, 
 That she might hear his words. He led her, ah ! 
 He led her ! Unprophetic of her fate 
 She followed. The vile Phocian, his compeer, 
 Seized the occasion, and with stern command 
 Bade us be gone ; then, dragged to separate cells, 
 Confined us from our royal mistress far. 
 
 CHOR. What terrible event ensued ? Oh, say ! 
 
 PHRY. Goddess of Ida, potent, potent queen ! 
 What scenes of blood, what impious deeds these eyes, 
 These eyes amidst the royal rooms beheld ! 
 Each in his fierce hand grasped the sword concealed
 
 ORESTES. 137 
 
 Beneath their purple vests, his fiery glance, 
 
 Heedful of interruption, darting round ; 
 
 Then, like two mountain boars, before the queen 
 
 They stood, and thundered, " Thou shalt die, shalt die ; 
 
 Thy coward husband kills thee, who in Argos 
 
 Betrays his brother's family to death." 
 
 She shrieked aloud, and raising her white arm 
 
 In miserable manner beat her head ; 
 
 Then bent her golden- sandalled feet to flight. 
 
 But, rushing fierce, Orestes in her hair 
 
 Locked his rude hand, and bending to the left 
 
 Her head, prepared to plunge th' impetuous sword 
 
 Deep in her throat. 
 
 CHOR. Where were her Phrygians then ? 
 
 They ran, belike, on all sides to her aid. 
 
 PHRY. Roused by her cries we burst the bars, and each 
 From forth his separate cell rushed to her aid : 
 Some in their hasty hands snatched stones, some seized 
 The beamy spear, th' unwieldy falchion some : 
 'Gainst us in dreadless rage the Phocian came, 
 Fierce as the Trojan Hector, fierce as Ajax, 
 Whose triple-crested helm I saw, I saw 
 Dreadfully waving in the gates of Priam. 
 Clashing our swords met his ; but then, oh then 
 Was seen how weak, how spiritless our arms 
 Opposed in fight against the force of Greece ; 
 One hasty running, dying one, one gashed 
 With wounds, wild with affright another bends 
 Imploring mercy ; sheltering in the dark 
 We fly, and all was terror, blood, and death. 
 Just as th' uplifted sword threatened to shed 
 Her mother's blood on th' earth, Hermione came ; 
 Swift with unhallowed rage they dart on her, 
 And seize their trembling prey ; then turn again 
 To execute the work of death on Helen. 
 Meanwhile, O heaven ! O earth ! O day ! O night 1 
 Forth from the chamber through the vestibule, 
 Whether by some enchantment, by the power 
 Of magic, or the stealth of fav'ring gods,
 
 138 EURIPIDES. 
 
 She vanished. What hath happened since I know not, 
 
 Intent on hasty flight to save myself. 
 
 For all his toils, all his distressful toils, 
 
 Barren return hath Menelaus received, 
 
 And led his beauteous wife from Troy in vain. 
 
 CHOR. Terror succeeds to terror ; for mine eyes 
 Behold Orestes there before the house 
 Walk with disordered pace, and grasp his sword. 
 
 ORESTES, PHRYGIAN, CHORUS. 
 
 ORES. Where is the slave, who this way fled my sword ? 
 
 PHRY. Low at thy feet, such our barbaric use, 
 Thus prostrate I implore thy mercy, king. 
 
 ORES. This is not Ilium, but the land of Greece. 
 
 PHRY. In any land life to the wise is sweet. 
 
 ORES. Hast thou raised cries to call the Spartan's aid? 
 
 PHRY. Thee rather would I aid : more worthy thou. 
 
 ORES. This Helen then, with justice did she die? 
 
 PHRY. Most justly : had she three lives, she should lose them. 
 
 ORES. Thy servile fear smooths thy dissembling tongue. 
 
 PHRY. No. Should she live who wasted Greece and Troy ? 
 
 ORES. Swear, I will kill thee else, thou flatterest not. 
 
 P.HRY. Now by my life I swear, sincerely swear. 
 
 ORES. Was the steel dreadful thus to all at Troy ? 
 
 PHRY. Keep thy sword off: near, it glares terror to me. 
 
 ORES. Freeze not to stone, as seen the Gorgon's head. 
 
 PHRY. Let me not die ; no Gorgon's head I know. 
 
 ORES. Feara a slave death, the end of all his ills ? 
 
 PHRY. To slave or free sweet is the light of heaven. 
 
 ORES. Well urged : thy wisdom saves thee : go thou in. 
 
 PHRY. Thou wilt not kill me then ? 
 
 ORES. In safety go. 
 
 PHRY. Thy words breathe music. 
 
 ORES. But I may retract 
 
 This lenity. 
 
 PHRY. No music breathes in that. 
 
 ORES. Fool, if thou thinkst thy blood shall stain my sword, 
 Nor woman thou, nor in the scale of men.
 
 ORESTES. 139 
 
 To stop thy clamours came I : Argos soon 
 Is roused at every noise. For Menelaus 
 We fear him not : our swords shall welcome him : 
 Let him then come, proud of his golden locks 
 That wanton o'er his shoulders. Should he raise 
 The men of Argos, and for Helen's death 
 Lead them against this house, and menace me, 
 My sister, and my friend, he shall behold 
 His daughter, with his wife, welt'ring in blood. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 ist SEMICHOR. Other horrors, other woes 
 
 Rise this royal house t' enclose. 
 2nd SEMICHOR. Haste we then to spread th' alarm 
 
 Or keep silence, shunning harm ? 
 ist SEMICHOR. See the sudden smoke arise, 
 
 Waving tidings to the skies ! 
 2nd SEMICHOR. From the torch that dusky wreath 
 
 Threatens ruin, flames, and death. 
 CHOR. .What event the gods assign, 
 
 Mortal, to submit is thine. 
 Here some stern relentless power 
 Bade the horrid ruin roar, 
 When the blood-stained car beneath 
 Myrtilus lay rolled in death. 
 But see, with hasty step the Spartan comes, 
 Informed, belike, of these rough deeds of death. 
 Quick, quick, ye royal youths make fast these gates, 
 Prevent the foe ; for to th' unfortunate, 
 Like thee, Orestes, dreadful are the wrongs 
 Of insolent and rude prosperity. 
 
 MENELAUS below, ORESTES, PYLADES, ELECTRA, 
 HERMIONE above, CHORUS. 
 
 MEN. I heard the horrid and atrocious deeds 
 Of these two lions, men I call them not ; 
 My wife not dead, I hear, but disappeared. 
 This idle rumour I received from one,
 
 140 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Bewildered with his fears ; the bitter scoff, 
 
 The artifice of him that slew his mother. 
 
 Open the gates here : slaves, I speak to you, 
 
 Unbar the gates, that I at least may save 
 
 My daughter from their bloody hands, and bear 
 
 My poor lost wife away, whose murderers 
 
 This vengeful hand should recompense with death. 
 
 ORES. Stand off ! forbear ! Spartan, I speak to thee 
 low'ring in pride ! Dare but to touch the gate, 
 I will rend down this ancient pinnacle 
 That crowns the battlements, and crush thy head. 
 The gates are shut, and barricadoed strong, 
 To guard me from thy efforts and thy friends'. 
 
 MEN. Ha ! what is this? What mean these blazing 
 
 torches ? 
 
 Why on the battlements this station fixed ? 
 Why at my daughter's bosom points that sword ? 
 
 ORES. Is it thy will to question, or to hear me ? 
 
 MEN. Neither ; but by compulsion I must hear thee. 
 
 ORES. Be thou assured, thy daughter I will kill. 
 
 MEN. Thou hast killed Helen : wilt thou shed more blood ? 
 
 ORES. Would I had killed her, nor the gods beguiled me ! 
 
 MEN. Her murder dost thou tauntingly deny? 
 
 ORES. With sorrow I deny it : 'twas my wish. 
 
 MEN. What to have done ? Thy words excite my fear. 
 
 ORES. To sacrifice this baleful pest of Greece. 
 
 MEN. Give me the body, that I may entomb it. 
 
 ORES. Ask of the gods : but I will kill thy daughter. 
 
 MEN. The mother slain, wilt thou add blood to blood ? 
 
 ORES. T' avenge my father ; yet betrayed by thee. 
 
 MEN. Art thou not sated with thy mother's blood? 
 
 ORES. Never, with punishing such impious women. 
 
 MEN. And art thou, Pylades, accomplice with him ? 
 
 ORES. His silence speaks : sufficient my reply. 
 
 MEN. But short thy joy, unless thou fly on wings. 
 
 ORES. We will not fly : but we will fire the house. 
 
 MEN. Thy father's royal seat in ruins sink ! 
 
 ORES. That it may ne'er be thine : and at the flames 
 Her will I sacrifice.
 
 ORESTES. 141 
 
 MEN. Ay, kill her, do ; 
 
 I will have vengeance, ample vengeance on thee. 
 
 ORES. Thus then. 
 
 MEN. Ah, stay thee ! do not, do not kill her ! 
 
 ORES. Be silent now, and with composure bear 
 Th' afflictions, which with justice light on thee. 
 
 MEN. What, is it justice then that thou shouldst live? 
 
 ORES. Live ! Ay, and reign. 
 
 MEN. Where wouldst thou reign ? 
 
 ORES. In Argos, 
 
 Pelasgian Argos. 
 
 MEN. At the sacred rites 
 
 Well would those hands the cleansing lavers touch. 
 
 ORES. And wherefore not ? 
 
 MEN. And, ere the spear is raised, 
 
 Offer the hallowed victim ! 
 
 ORES. Dost not thou ? 
 
 MEN. And well : my hands are pure. 
 
 ORES. But not thy heart. 
 
 MEN. Who will hold converse with thee ? 
 
 ORES. He that loves 
 
 His father. 
 
 MEN. He too, who reveres his mother ? 
 
 ORES. Happy his state. 
 
 MEN. Unhappy then is thine. 
 
 ORES. Because such impious women I abhor. 
 
 MEN. Take, from my daughter's bosom take thy sword. 
 
 ORES. False are thy words. 
 
 MEN. My daughter wilt thou kill ? 
 
 ORES. Now thou speakst truth. 
 
 MEN. Ah me, what shall I do ? 
 
 ORES. Go to the Argives, and persuade them 
 
 MEN. What 
 
 Shall I persuade them ? 
 
 ORES. Ask the state to spare 
 
 Our lives. 
 
 MEN. Or you will kill my daughter? 
 
 ORES. Ay. 
 
 MEN. Unhappy Helen !
 
 142 EURIPIDES. 
 
 ORES. Am not I unhappy ? 
 
 MEN. From Troy I brought thee to be butchered here. 
 
 ORES. Would it were so ! 
 
 MEN. After a thousands toils 
 
 ORES. But not for me. 
 
 MEN. These dreadful ills fall on me. 
 
 ORES. Thou hadst no will to serve me. 
 
 MEN. Thou hast caught me. 
 
 ORES. No : by thy baseness thou hast caught thyself. 
 But go, Electra, fire the house below : 
 And thou, my Pylades, my faithful friend, 
 Set from these battlements the roof on fire. 
 
 MEN. Arm, arm, ye sons of Greece ! ye warlike Argives, 
 Fly to my aid. Despair of life, and guilt 
 Stained with his mother's blood, prompt his bold hand 
 In one wide ruin to involve the city. 
 
 APOLLO. 
 
 Cease, Menelaus, forbear this fiery rage : 
 Apollo speaks : revere the present god. 
 And thou, Orestes, whose uplifted sword 
 Threatens that virgin's life, forbear, and hear. 
 Her whom thy rage, to work him woe, assailed, 
 This radiant form in tissued clouds enshrined, 
 Snatched from thy sword I saved ; such the command 
 Of heaven's high king : his beauteous progeny 
 Soars above mortal fate, and orbed in heaven 
 Immortal 'midst her kindred stars she shines, 
 Beaming kind influence on the mariners. 
 Lead to thy royal house another wife ; 
 Since by her beauty the just gods awoke 
 'Twixt Greece and Troy the rage of war, to free 
 The groaning earth from impious multitudes. 
 Such is the fate of Helen. Thou, Orestes, 
 Quitting this country, in Parrhasia's plains 
 For one revolving year thy dwelling fix, 
 And give the place thy name; that honour share 
 With Azan and with Areas. Pass from thence
 
 ORESTES. 143 
 
 To Athens ; there against the Furies urge 
 
 Thy plea, acquit thee of thy mother's blood : 
 
 There in that awful court the gods shall sit 
 
 Thy judges ; and thy just cause shall prevail. 
 
 Her, at whose throat thy angry sword was pointed, 
 
 The gods decree thy wife ; though Pyrrhus dreams 
 
 Of nuptial joys, the Delphic sword awaits him ; 
 
 My vengeance on Achilles this demands. 
 
 To Pylades thy sister is betrothed ; 
 
 Give him his bride : and happiness attends 
 
 To pour her blessings on their future years. 
 
 Thou, Menelaus, yield that Orestes reign 
 
 At Argos : haste to Sparta, reign thou there, 
 
 And wear that crown, the dowry of thy wife, 
 
 The well-earned meed of all the toils she caused thee. 
 
 It shall be mine t' appease the state to him, 
 
 Compelled by my command to slay his mother. 
 
 ORES. Thou god of oracles, prophet of good, 
 True are thy words, and faithful. Yet my soul 
 Was struck with horror, lest some vengeful power 
 Spoke this, which I misdeemed thy voice divine. 
 But all is well. Obedient to thy word 
 I drop the sword : and, if her father gives her, 
 Wish to receive Hermione my bride. 
 
 MEN. Daughter of Jove, bright Helen, hail ! Thy state 
 'Midst the blest mansions of th' immortal gods 
 I reverence. Now, Orestes, give I thee 
 My daughter, at the bidding of the god. 
 Illustrious in thy race thou takest a wife 
 Not less illustrious : blessings on thy hand 
 That takes her, and on mine that gives her to thee. 
 
 APOL. Each now depart, as I commanded : cease 
 Your strife. 
 
 MEN. T' obey is ours. 
 
 ORES. Such are my thoughts. 
 
 Now, Menelaus, to all these evils past 
 My soul speaks peace ; and to thy oracles. 
 
 APOL. Go then your ways, now go, and reverence Pence, 
 Most beauteous of the gods. I will conduct
 
 144 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Th' immortal Helen to the house of Jove 
 O'er yon star-spangled sky, to the bright seats 
 Where, with majestic Juno, and the bloom 
 Of Hebe ever young, Alcides' joy, 
 A goddess she shall hear the vows of mortals ; 
 And honoured with the twin-born sons of Jove 
 Guide the tost mariners, and rule the sea. 
 
 CHOR. O victory, I revere thy sober triumphs ; 
 Thus ever guard, thus ever crown my life !
 
 IPHIGENIA IN AULIS, 
 
 THE translator thought it not improper to arrange the tragedies 
 of Euripides, as he had before arranged those of yEschylus, 
 according to the historical series of their subjects. [Some 
 variation has been made in this edition to secure equal interest 
 for each of the volumes, but the relation of plays to each other 
 has been kept in view.] The following tragedies have relation 
 to the Trojan war and the events which arose from it : these 
 are great and important, rr.ve a close connection, and reflect 
 light on each other by being thus placed in regular succession. 
 [The other plays of Euripides relating to the Trojan war will 
 be included in the next of the three volumes which, in course of 
 time, will secure a complete translation of that poet in the 
 " Universal Library."] 
 
 The combined fleet of Greece was assembled at Aulis, and 
 had been long detained there by contrary winds : the Oracle 
 declared that they would not be permitted to sail, unless 
 Iphigenia were sacrificed to Diana ; but that, if the goddess 
 were thus propitiated, they should reach the Phrygian shore, and 
 lay the towers of Troy level with the ground. Upon this 
 Agamemnon had been prevailed upon to send for his daughter 
 under pretence of giving her in marriage to Achilles : 
 the arguments of Ulysses, his affection for his brother, his 
 desire of glory, his love of his country, and his reverence for the 
 gods, had impelled him to this measure : but he had consented 
 with reluctance, and felt all the fondness of a father. This 
 conflict of his mind is finely described throughout the drama. At 
 length paternal tenderness prevails over all other considerations :
 
 146 EURIPIDES. 
 
 he secretly forms measures to prevent her coming, is detected, 
 and disappointed. Iphigenia a/rives attended by her mother - t 
 but instead of her nuptials with the most accomplished of all 
 the Grecian princes, she soons learns that she is destined to 
 bleed as a victim on the altar of Diana. Never did Euripides 
 succeed better in painting scenes of distress ; never was he 
 more powerful in exciting the softest emotions of pity. The 
 characters of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra are admirably 
 sustained ; Aristotle seems to have formed a different judg- 
 ment concerning that of Iphigenia (Poetic, c. xv.). For the 
 reader's satisfaction, the objection made by that critic and the 
 defence of the poet are here subjoined. " Aristotle's words are 
 ' Iphigenia is an instance of the inconsistent character ; for 
 there is no probable conformity between her fears and supplica- 
 tions at first, and her firmness and resolution afterwards.' But 
 how doth this appear, independently of the name of the great 
 critic ? Iphigenia is drawn indeed, at first, fearful and 
 suppliant ; and surely with the greatest observance of nature- 
 The account of her destination to the altar was sudden, and 
 without the least preparation ; and, as Lucretius well observes, 
 Nubendi tempore in ipso ; when her thoughts were employed, 
 and, according to the simplicity of those times, confessed to be 
 so, on her promised nuptials. The cause of such destination 
 too, as appeared at first, was the private family interest of 
 Menelaus. All this justifies, or rather demands, the strongest 
 expression of female fear and weakness. v But she afterwards 
 recants, and voluntarily devotes herself to the altar.' And this 
 with the same strict attention to probability. She had now 
 informed herself of the importance of the case. Her devote- 
 ment was the demand of Apollo, and the joint petition of all 
 Greece. The glory of her country, the dignity and interest of her 
 family, the life of the generous Achilles, andtier on future fame, 
 were all nearly concerned in it. All this considered, together 
 with the high, heroic sentiments of those times, and the superior 
 merit, as was believed, of voluntary devotement, Iphigenia's 
 character must have been very unfit for the distress of a whole 
 tragedy to turn upon, if she had not, in the end, discovered the 
 readiest submission to her appointment. But, to show with 
 what wonderful propriety the poet knew to sustain his characters,
 
 1PHIGENIA IN AULIS. 147 
 
 we find her, after all, and notwithstanding the heroism of the 
 change, in a strong and passionate apostrophe to her native 
 Mycenu?, confessing some involuntary apprehensions and regrets, 
 the remains of that instinctive abhorrence of death, which had 
 before strongly possessed her. 
 
 ' Once the bright star of Greece 
 
 But I submit to die.' 
 
 This I take to be not only a full vindication of the consistency 
 of Iphigenia's character, but as delicate a stroke of nature, as is, 
 perhaps, to be found in any writer." Comment, on the Epistle to 
 l/ie Pisos. 
 
 Happy Euripides in such an advocate ! P. Brumoy has the 
 same sentiments concerning the character of Iphigenia. The 
 reasons he employs are nearly the same. " Only," to continue 
 the words of the same critic, " he confirms them all by showing 
 that the Iphigenia of Racine, which is modelled, not according 
 to the practice of Euripides, but the comment of Aristotle, is, in 
 all respects, so much the worse for it." The same must be said 
 concerning the character of Achilles, as it is drawn by Racine : 
 P. Brumoy, in the comparison, has well defended the Achilles 
 of Euripides "on the sure principles of nature and common 
 sense." Yet, with him, we ought to allow much to the different 
 manners of different ages and different nations : and, in justice 
 to the merit of the excellent Racine, we should reflect that he 
 wrote for the French nation, Euripides for the Athenians. It 
 is difficult to forbear pointing out the singular beauties of this fine 
 drama; but " I have too much respect for the understanding of 
 my readers to take that liberty." 
 
 The scene is at Aulis, before the house of Agamemnon. 
 
 AGAMEMNON. 
 
 MENELAUS. 
 
 ACHILLES. 
 
 PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. 
 
 IPHIGENIA. 
 
 ATTENDANT 
 
 MESSENGER. 
 
 CLYTEMNESTRA. 
 
 CHORUS, FEMALES OF CHALCIS.
 
 148 EURIPIDES. 
 
 AGAMEMNON, ATTENDANT. 
 
 AGAM. Thou old and faithful servant, from the house 
 Come forth. 
 
 ATT. I come. What recent care disturbs 
 
 The royal Agamemnon ? 
 
 AGAM. Thou shalt know. 
 
 ATT. I haste : for not to sleep inclines my age, 
 Nor in these eyes is dull. 
 
 AGAM. What star is that 
 
 There sailing? 
 
 ATT. Sirius, in his middle height 
 
 Near the seven Pleiads riding. 
 
 AGAM. Not the sound 
 
 Of birds is heard, nor of the sea ; the winds 
 Are hushed in silence on the Euripus. 
 
 ATT. Why doth the royal Agamemnon then 
 Rush from his tent ? Through Aulis quiet reigns, 
 And motionless the watch their station hold. 
 Let us go in. 
 
 AGAM. I envy thee, old man ; 
 
 I envy all, who pass their lives secure 
 From danger, to the world, to fame unknown : 
 But those to greatness raised I envy not. 
 
 ATT. The dignity of life in greatness lies. 
 
 AGAM. Yet is that dignity unsafe : the chase 
 Of glory is delightful, but when won 
 It brings disquiet. One while from the gods, 
 Their worship ill directed, ruin conies ; 
 One while the various and discordant views 
 Of men distract the mind, and wound its peace. 
 
 ATT. This I approve not in a potent chief. 
 Not to all good, without a taste of ill, 
 Did Atreus give thee birth : it must be thine 
 To joy, it likewise must be thine to grieve, 
 For thou art mortal born ; and though perchance 
 To thee not pleasing, thus the gods decree. 
 The blazing lamp didst thou display, and write
 
 IPHIGENIA IN AULIS. 149 
 
 That letter, which thou holdest in thy hand 
 E'en now ; the writing didst thou blot ; then seal, 
 And open it again ; then on the floor 
 Cast it in grief, the warm tear from thine eye 
 Fast flowing, in thy thoughts distracted near, 
 As it should seem, to madness. What new care, 
 My royal lord, say what new care disturbs thee ? 
 Tell me, impart it .to me . to a man 
 Honest and faithful wilt thou speak, a man 
 By Tyndarus of old sent to thy wife, 
 A nuptial present, to attend the bride, 
 One of tried faith, and to his office just. 
 
 AGAM. To Leda were three beauteous daughters born, 
 Phoebe, and Clytemnestra now my wife, 
 And Helena : to her the youths of Greece, 
 Those of the noblest rank, as wooers came. 
 Each menaced high, on deeds of blood resolved, 
 Should he not win the virgin ; this was cause 
 To Tyndarus her father of much doubt, 
 To give, or not to give her, and how best 
 To make good fortune his ; at length this thought 
 Occurred, that each to each the wooers give 
 Their oath, and plight their hands, and on the flames 
 Pour the libations, and with solemn vows 
 Bind their firm faith that him who should obtain 
 The virgin for his bride they all would aid ; 
 If any dared to seize and bear her off, 
 And drive by force her husband from her bed, 
 All would unite in arms, and lay his town, 
 Greek or Barbaric, level with the ground. 
 Their faith thus pledged, the aged Tyndarus 
 Beneath them well with cautious prudence wrought ; 
 He gave his daughter of her wooers one 
 To choose, tow'rds whom the gentle gales of love 
 Should waft her : and she chose (O had he ne'er 
 Obtained that envied favour !) Menelaus. 
 To Lacedemon now the Phrygian came, 
 The judge between the beauties of the sky, 
 So fame reports him : gorgeous was his dress,
 
 150 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Glitt'ring with gold and vermeil-tinctured dies, 
 
 Barbaric elegance He loved, was loved. 
 
 And bore the beauteous Helena away 
 
 To Ida's pastoral groves ; for Menelaus 
 
 Was absent then. Deserted thus through Greece 
 
 He raved, the oaths attesting giv"n of old 
 
 To Tyndarus, conjuring all t' avenge 
 
 His wrongs. On this the Grecians rush to war, 
 
 And taking arms come hither to the straits 
 
 Of Amis, furnished well with ships, with spears, 
 
 And num'rous chariots : me they chose their chiei. 
 
 Doing a grace to Menelaus, for that 
 
 I am his brother. O that this high honour 
 
 Some other had received, not I J The troops 
 
 Collected and embodied, here we sit 
 
 Unactive, and from Aulis wish to sail 
 
 In vain. The prophet Calchas, 'midst the gloom 
 
 That darkened on our minds, at length pronounced 
 
 That Iphigenia, my virgin daughter, 
 
 I to Diana, goddess of this land, 
 
 Must sacrifice : this victim giv'n, the winds 
 
 Shall swell our sails, and Troy beneath our arms 
 
 Be humbled in the dust ; but if denied, 
 
 These things are not to be. This when I heard, 
 
 I said that by the herald's voice the troops 
 
 Should be discharged, for never would I bear 
 
 To slay my daughter ; till my brother came, 
 
 And, urging many a plea, persuaded me 
 
 To bear these dreadful things. I wrote, I sealed 
 
 A letter to my wife, that she should send 
 
 Her daughter to Achilles as a bride 
 
 Affianced : of his worth I spoke hi terms 
 
 Of amplest honour ; said he would not sail 
 
 With Greece, unless from us his nuptial bed 
 
 Was decked in Phthia : with my wife this found 
 
 Easy belief, the false tale that announced 
 
 Her daughter's destined marriage. Of the Greeks 
 
 None but Ulysses, Calchas, and my brother 
 
 To this are conscious. What I then resolved
 
 IPH1GENIA IN A ULIS. 151 
 
 Imprudently, I prudently retract, 
 Committed to this letter, which thou sawst me 
 This night, old man, unfold and fold again. 
 Take then this letter, haste, to Argos go. 
 That there is written, in its secret folds 
 Enclosed. I will explain to thee ; for thou 
 Art faithful to my wife and to my house. 
 
 ATT. Read it, explain its purport, that my words 
 May aptly with thy writing correspond. 
 
 AGAM. " Whate'er my former letter gave in charge, {Reads. 
 Daughter of Leda, this I write to thee, 
 That to Eubcea's winding way thou send not 
 Thy daughter, nor to Aulis rising high 
 Above the waves ; for to some other time 
 The nuptials of the virgin we defer." 
 
 ATT. Will not Achilles, frustrate of his bride, 
 Be fired with rage 'gainst thee, and 'gainst thy wife ? 
 This might be dang'rous : is not such thy thought ? 
 
 AGAM. His name indeed we used, but nothing more : 
 Achilles knows not of the nuptials, knows 
 Of our transactions nought, nor that I named 
 My daughter his, as to his bed betrothed. 
 
 ATT. This, royal Agamemnon, is a deed 
 Of perilous daring. So thy daughter, named 
 A bride to him who from a goddess draws 
 His birth, thou ledd'st a victim for the Grecians. 
 
 AGAM. Distraction's in the thought : unhappy me, 
 My misery sinks me ! But away ! To age 
 Remitting nothing, use thy utmost speed. 
 
 ATT. I hasten, king. 
 
 AGAM. Now sit not on the bank 
 
 Of shaded fountain, nor indulge to sleep. 
 
 ATT. Think better of me. 
 
 AGAM. Take good heed, where'er 
 
 The ways divide, observing that the car, 
 Whose wheels swift-rolling bear my daughter hither 
 Where rides the fleet of Greece, escape thee not. 
 
 ATT. I shall observe. 
 
 AGAM. Now haste thee from the tent.
 
 152 EURIPIDES. 
 
 If on thy way thou meet her, backward turn 
 Her reins, and send her to Mycenae's walls 
 Raised by the Cyclops. 
 
 ATT. How, if I shall say 
 
 This to thy wife and daughter, shall I gain 
 Belief? 
 
 AGAM. This seal, whose impress on that letter 
 Thou bearst, take with thee. Go ; that silver light 
 Shows the approach of morn, the harbinger 
 Of the sun's fiery steeds. Be in my toils 
 Assistant to me : for of mortals none 
 Knows a pure course of unmixed happiness ; 
 None yet was born without a share of grief. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 Strophe i. 
 
 Thus have I reached the sandy shore 
 Where Aulis rises from the dashing wave, 
 
 Nor feared its foam to brave, 
 The narrow Euripus advent'ring o'er ; 
 My native Chalcis left, that feeds the pride 
 Of the swift current hast'ning to the main, 
 Illustrious Arethusa's silver tide. 
 The Grecian camp, the Grecian fleet, the train 
 
 Of demigods I wish to see, 
 Who with a thousand ships, that wait to bear 
 
 'Gainst Troy the vengeful war 
 (For thus our husbands say the states decree), 
 By the imperial Agamemnon led, 
 In arms for bright-haired Menelaus arise, 
 And Helen ravished from his nuptial bed ; 
 Her from Eurota's sedgy bank his prize 
 
 The shepherd Paris bore away, 
 
 The gift of Venus on that day 
 When, nigh the dewy fountain as she stood 
 Contending with the rival forms of heaven, 
 
 To her the palm of beauty given, 
 In all her radiant charms the goddess glowed.
 
 IPHIGENIA IN A ULIS. 153 
 
 Anti strophe \. 
 
 Diana's hallowed grove I seek, 
 Where to the goddess frequent victims bleed, 
 
 And through it pass with speed, 
 The warm blush kindling on my youthful cheek, 
 Ardent my wish to view the guard of shields, 
 The armed tents of Greece extended wide, 
 Their horse in warlike muster o'er the fields, 
 And all the glorious scene of martial pride. 
 
 There either Ajax struck my sight, 
 One from Oi'leus draws his birth, and one 
 
 From greater Telamon, 
 Salamis glories in her hero's might. 
 These sitting with Protesilaus I saw 
 Delighted with the various-figured die. 
 But Palamedes, proud his birth to draw 
 From Neptune, with Tydides whirled on high 
 
 The massy discus : Merion there 
 
 Rejoiced the manly sport to share, 
 Wondrous the hero's form and martial grace ; 
 Ulysses there, whose island's craggy brow 
 
 Frowns o'er the darkened waves below ; 
 And Nireus, fairest of the Grecian race. 
 
 Epode i. 
 
 Swift as the winged wing 
 Achilles, whom the goddess Thetis bore, 
 And gave to Chiron in his rigid lore 
 To train his infant mind, 
 
 I saw : in all his arms arrayed, 
 
 The cumbrous equipage of war, 
 
 His speed he o'er the strand displayed, 
 
 Contending with the harnessed car : 
 High o'er the beam 1 saw Eumelus rise, 
 
 I heard his animating cries, 
 And marked each courser beauteous to behold, 
 
 Their glitt'ring bits embossed with gold : 
 
 Those in the midst, the yoke that bear. 
 
 Dappled with silvery marks their hair ;
 
 154 EURIPIDES. 
 
 And each on either side 
 That wind, obedient to the guiding rein, 
 With equal swiftness o'er the plain, 
 Bright as the flaming gold, with pride 
 
 On snow-white fetlocks bound : 
 With rival speed I saw Pelides fly, 
 
 In arms, the whirling chariot nigh, 
 Light o'er the pebbled ground. 
 
 Strop/it 2. 
 Hence to the numerous fleet I fly, 
 
 A vast and glorious sight, 
 To gratify my curious eye, 
 
 A woman's dear delight. 
 On the right wing from Phthia's strand 
 The Myrmidons, a valiant band, 
 
 In fifty gallant vessels ride; 
 And by the Nereids we behold, 
 Bright on the prows in sculptured gold, 
 
 Achilles' arms are signified. 
 
 Antistrophe 2. 
 The Argive ships of equal oars 
 
 Next these their station hold ; 
 The son of Talaus leads their powers, 
 
 And Sthenelus the bold. 
 In order next th' Athenian train 
 In sixty vessels plough the main, 
 
 Their host the son of Theseus leads 
 Adorning the Munychian prows 
 In arms a sculptured Pallas glows, 
 
 Inspiring high heroic deeds. 
 
 [ The second Epode is lost.] 
 
 Strophe 3. 
 Bceotia's host I there surveyed, 
 
 In fifty ships the warriors came : 
 An imaged form each ship displayed, 
 
 Proud argument of Theban fame ;
 
 IPHIGENIA IN AUL1S. 155 
 
 High on each sculptured prow their Cadmus stands, 
 A golden dragon holding in his hands ; 
 
 And Le'itus, who boasts his birth 
 From those that sprung embattled from the earth, 
 Commands their naval war. 
 
 Those, who their race from Phocis draw, 
 
 Ranged on the foaming flood I saw. 
 
 Oilcan Ajax there, 
 Equal his numbers, leads the Locrian train, 
 
 Leaving illustrious Thronion's plain. 
 
 Antistrophe 3. 
 
 From high Mycenae's rampired towers, 
 
 Towers by the lab'ring Cyclops wrought, 
 The son of Atreus leads his powers ; 
 
 A hundred ships the monarch brought ; 
 And faithful at his side, as friend with friend, 
 These eyes beheld the injured chief attend ; 
 
 That for the fair, her house who fled, 
 
 Lightly preferring a barbaric bed, 
 Greece with a gen'rous rage 
 
 Might rise and vindicate his cause. 
 
 His troops from Pylos Nestor draws, 
 
 Reverend the warrior's age ; 
 On his tall vessels sculptured Alpheus stands, 
 
 A bull, and seems to spurn the sands. 
 
 Epode 3. 
 
 From ^tnia's stormy coast 
 By Geneus led twelve vessels plough the tide; 
 The chiefs of Elis anchor by their side ; 
 These through th' extended host 
 
 Are called the brave Epean train, 
 
 And Eurytus their force commands. 
 
 Dashed by their oars the foaming main 
 
 Whitens beneath the Taphian bands ; 
 Meges their leader, from that dangerous shore, 
 
 Where rough Echinae's vext rocks roar.
 
 156 EURIPIDES. 
 
 The Salaminian Ajax to the right 
 Stretches, the left wing to unite ; 
 The last in station, o'er the deep 
 His fleetest vessels circling sweep. 
 
 In all their gallant pride 
 
 I heard, I saw them stretch : to meet their war 
 Should the barbaric slight barks dare, 
 Shattered and sunk beneath the tide, 
 
 They will return no more. 
 I heard, I saw ; and all the warlike train 
 Faithful my memory shall retain, 
 When reached my native shore. 
 
 ATTENDANT, MENELAUS, CHORUS. 
 
 ATT. This, Menelaus, is wrong ; thou shouldst not do it. 
 
 MEN. Go to : thou wouldst be faithful to thy lords ! . 
 
 ATT. That is an honour to me, no reproach. 
 
 MEN. Wouldst thou do what thou shouldst not, thou shall 
 rue it. 
 
 ATT. Thou shouldst not ope the letter which I bear. 
 
 MEN. Thou shouldst not bear what to all Greece is hurtful. 
 
 ATT. With others dispute that ; leave this to me. 
 
 MEN. I will not let it go. 
 
 ATT. Nor will I yield it. 
 
 MEN. Soon shall thy head this sceptre stain with blood. 
 
 ATT. Nay, it were glorious for my lords to die. 
 
 MEN. Let go : a slave presuming to dispute ! 
 
 ATT. My royal master, we are wronged : by force 
 Thy letter hath he wrested from my hands, 
 To what behoves him paying no regard. 
 
 AGAMEMNON, MENELAUS, ATTENDANT, CHORUS. 
 
 AGAM. Why this indecent tumult at my doors ? 
 ATT. My words have greater right than his t' inform thee. 
 AGAM. Why, Menelaus, this strife with him, this force ? 
 MEN. Look, if thou darst, at me ; then will I speak. 
 AGAM. Fear I, from Atreus born, to raise mine eye ? 
 MEN. Dost thou see this, with basest orders charged ?
 
 JPHIGENIA IN A U US. 157 
 
 AGAM. I see it : from thy hand first give it back. 
 
 MEN. Not till I've shown all Greece what's written here. 
 
 AGAM. Knowstihou, this opened, what thou shouldst not know? 
 
 MEN. To wring thy heart, opening thy secret baseness. 
 
 AGAM. Where didst thou take it? Gods, hast thou no shame? 
 
 MEN. Watching from Argos if thy daughter comes. 
 
 AGAM. On my affairs a spy ! How shameless this ! 
 
 MEN. Urged by my will : for I am not thy slave. 
 
 AGAM, Have I not leave in mine own house to rule ? 
 
 MEN. How wayward is thy mind, thy present thoughts 
 At variance with the past, and soon to change ! 
 
 AGAM. Finely thy words are tuned : but know thou this, 
 The wily tongue is a detested ill. 
 
 MEN. The wav'ring mind is a base property, 
 And darkens to our friends : I will convince thee : 
 But if through pride thou turn thee from the truth, 
 Small share of praise shalt thou receive from me. 
 Thou knowest, when thy aim was to command 
 The troops of Greece at Troy, thy semblance formed 
 As if affecting nothing, but thy wish 
 Most ardent; what humility was thine : 
 Pressing the hand of each, thy door to all 
 Was open, to the meanest, and thy speech 
 To all addressed in order, e'en to those 
 Who willed no converse with thee, seeking thus 
 By courteous manners thy ambitious wish 
 To purchase. The supreme command obtained, 
 Soon were thy manners changed, and to thy friends 
 Not friendly as before ; nor was access 
 Easy, oft too denied. Ill it becomes 
 An honest man, when raised to power, to change 
 His manners, but then most to be approved 
 Firm to his friends, when through his advanced state 
 He most can serve them : this I urge against thee 
 As my first charge, where first I found thee base. 
 But when thou camst to Aulis, with the troops 
 Of Greece in arms, to nothing didst thou sink, 
 Astonished at thy fortune, by the gods 
 Denied a gale to swell thy sails. The Greeks
 
 158 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Required thee to dismiss the ships, nor toil 
 
 In vain at Aulis : how dejected then 
 
 Thy visage, thy confusion then how great 
 
 Not to command the thousand ships, and fill 
 
 The fields of Priam with embattled hosts ? 
 
 Me then didst thou address, " What shall I do, 
 
 Or what expedient find, of this command, 
 
 Of this high honour not to be deprived ? " 
 
 When Calchas at the hallowed rites declared 
 
 That to Diana thou must sacrifice 
 
 Thy daughter, and the Grecians then should sail, 
 
 With joy thy thoughts were heightened ; willingly 
 
 The virgin as a victim didst thou promise 
 
 And freely, not by force (urge not that plea), 
 
 Dost thou despatch a message to thy wife 
 
 To send thy daughter hither, the pretence 
 
 Her nuptials with Achilles. But thy mind 
 
 Was soon averse, and secretly devised 
 
 Letters of diffrent import ; now in sooth 
 
 Thou wilt not be the murd'rer of thy daughter. 
 
 This air is witness, which hath heard these things 
 
 Of thee. To thousands this hath chanced in tasks 
 
 Of arduous nature ; freely they engage, 
 
 Then from the high attempt retreat with shame, 
 
 Th' ill judgment of their countrymen in part, 
 
 Justice in part the cause, for in the proof 
 
 They feel their want of power to guard the state. 
 
 But most I mourn th' unhappy fate of Greece, 
 
 Who, prompt her noble vengeance to inflict 
 
 On the barbarians, worthless as they are, 
 
 Shall let them now go scoffing off, through thee, 
 
 And through thy daughter. Never for his wealth 
 
 Would I appoint a ruler o'er the state, 
 
 Or chief in arms : wisdom should mark the man 
 
 Who in his country bears the sov'reign sway : 
 
 Every man sage in counsel is a leader. 
 
 CHOR. How dreadful, when 'twixt brothers words arise, 
 And fierce disputings kindle into strife ! 
 
 AGAM. For this I will rebuke thee ; but in brief,
 
 IPHIGENIA IN AULIS. 159 
 
 Not raising high the eye of insolence, 
 
 But with more temperance, because thou art 
 
 My brother ; for a good man loves to act 
 
 With modesty. But tell me, why with rage 
 
 Dost thou thus swell ? why rolls thy blood-streaked eye? 
 
 Who injures thee ? of what art thou in want ? 
 
 A rich connubial bed, is that thy wish ? 
 
 This to procure thee is not in my power. 
 
 Thou didst possess one, but ill governed it. 
 
 Shall I, who with no fault have e'er been charged, 
 
 Suffer for thy ill conduct ? Is thy heart 
 
 Racked at my honours ? But a beauteous wife 
 
 In thy fond arms it is thy wish to hold, 
 
 Transgressing decency and reason : base 
 
 Of a bad man the pleasures. But if I, 
 
 Before ill-judging, have with sober thought 
 
 My purpose changed, must I be therefore deemed 
 
 Reft of my sense ? Thou rather, who hast lost 
 
 A wife that brings thee shame, yet dost with warmth 
 
 Wish to regain her, would the fav'ring god 
 
 Grant thee that fortune. Of the nuptials eager 
 
 The suitors pledged to Tyndarus their oath, 
 
 Unwise : the hope, I ween, of the fair bride 
 
 Effected this, more than thy grace or power : 
 
 Take these, and march to war ; soon wilt thou find 
 
 What oaths avail ill plighted, with slight thought, 
 
 And by compulsion. But I will not slay 
 
 My children : and thy wishes o'erleap justice, 
 
 The punishment of thy flagitious wife. 
 
 My nights, my days would pass away in tears, 
 
 Should I with outrage and injustice wrong 
 
 Those who from me derived their birth. These things 
 
 Have 1 replied to thee in brief, with ease 
 
 And plainness : but if thou wilt not be wise, 
 
 What concerns me I rightly will appoint. 
 
 CHOR. These words are different from his former speech, 
 And well the father's melting pity show. 
 
 MEN. Ah me unhappy ! I have then no friends. 
 
 AGAM. Yes, if thou wish not to destroy thy friends.
 
 160 EURIPIDES. 
 
 MEN. How wilt thou show one father gave us birth ? 
 
 AGAM. I would be wise, but not be mad with thee. 
 
 MEN. Friends with their friends in common ought to grieve. 
 
 AGAM. Be thy deeds friendly then, not painful to me. 
 
 MEN. And with all Greece shouldst thou not bear this pain ? 
 
 AGAM. All Greece, and thee, hath heaven-sent frenzy seized. 
 
 MEN. Thou gloriest in thy sceptre,, and betray'st 
 Thy brother. But to other means I turn, 
 And other friends. 
 
 AGAMEMNON, MENELAUS, MESSENGER, CHORUS. 
 MESS. I come, imperial lord 
 
 Of Greece, thy daughter leading, in thine house 
 Named Iphigenia by thee ; and thy wife 
 Attends her, Clytemnestra, with thy son 
 Orestes, sight delightful to thine eyes 
 After this tedious absence from thy home. 
 But wearied with this length of way, beside 
 A beauteous-flowing fountain they repose, 
 Themselves refreshing, and their steeds, unyoked 
 To taste the fresh grass of the verdant mead. 
 I run to bring thee notice, that prepared 
 Thou mayst receive them : this the troops have heard 
 For through the camp swift the report was spread 
 That Iphigenia is arrived, and all 
 Haste to the sight desirous to behold 
 Thy daughter ; for to every eye the great 
 Appear illustrious, with high splendour graced. 
 Is this her bridal day, some ask, or what 
 Intended ? Or through fond desire to see 
 His daughter did th' imperial Agamemnon 
 Send for the virgin ? Others mightst thou hear, 
 The princess to Diann, queen of Aulis, 
 Will they present ? Who shall receive her hand ? 
 But haste, begin the rites, and crown thy head. 
 And thou too, royal Menelaus, prepare 
 The hymeneals ; let the joyful house 
 Re-echo to the pipe and festive dance : 
 For happy to the virgin comes this day.
 
 IPHIGENIA IN AULIS. 161 
 
 AGAM. 'Tis well : thou hast my thanks. But go thou in ; 
 All things, if fortune favours, shall be well. 
 Ah me, unhappy me ! What shall I say, 
 And whence begin ? In what a chain of fate 
 Am I enfolded ? Fortune, wiser far 
 Than all my vain designs, hath closely wrought 
 Beneath me. What advantages attend 
 Ignoble birth ? They are allowed to weep 
 And utter sad complaints ; but to the noble 
 This is denied. Led by the pride of rank, 
 Which rules us, to the people we are slaves. 
 1 am indeed ashamed to drop the tear, 
 And not to drop the tear I am ashamed, 
 FalPn as I am on these great miseries. 
 Well, let it be. But how shall I address 
 My wife, or how receive her ? with what eye 
 Look on her ? For to all my former ills 
 Coming unbidden, she hath added weight 
 Of new distress : yet decency required 
 Her presence with her daughter, to attend 
 Her nuptials, and present the dearest gifts : 
 There will she find me false. But thee, O thee, 
 Unhappy bride (bride call I thee ! how soon 
 To Pluto to be wedded !), how I pity ! 
 Methinks I hear her suppliant voice thus speak, 
 " My father, wilt thou kill me ? Mayst thou make 
 Thyself such nuptials, and whoe'er to thee 
 Is dear." Orestes, standing near, shall cry 
 In accents inarticulate, his speech, 
 As yet unformed, articulate to me. 
 Unhappy me ! what ruin hath the son 
 Of Priam brought on me ! This Paris caused 
 When he espoused the faithless Helena. 
 
 CHOR. I, as a woman and a stranger ought, 
 Am moved with pity at a monarch's woes. 
 
 MEN. Give me thy hand, my brother, let me clasp it. 
 
 AGAM. I give it : thou art conqueror, I a wretch. 
 
 MEN. By Pelops, called the father of thy father 
 And mine : by Atreus, whence we draw our birth, 
 
 F
 
 1 62 EURIPIDES. 
 
 I swear, that what I now shall say to thee 
 
 Comes from my heart, nought feigned, but what I think. 
 
 When from thine eye I saw thee drop the tear, 
 
 I pitied thee, and sympathizing dropped 
 
 Myself a tear : its former reas'nings now 
 
 My soul foregoes, no more unkind to thee, 
 
 But, as thou feelest, feels : nay, I exhort thee 
 
 Neither to slay thy daughter, nor to rank 
 
 What concerns me most high : it is not just 
 
 That grief should rend thy heart, whilst my affairs 
 
 Go pleasantly; that any of thy house 
 
 Should die, whilst mine behold the light. For what 
 
 Can be my purpose ? Might I not contract 
 
 Other illustrious nuptials, if my wish 
 
 Were other nuptials ? But at such a price, 
 
 My brother's ruin, which behoves me least, 
 
 Should I recover Helena, an ill 
 
 Dear with a blessing purchased ? Folly ruled 
 
 Before, and youth : but on a nearer view 
 
 I see what 'tis to yield a child to death. 
 
 Besides th' unhappy virgin, near allied 
 
 By ties of consanguinity, excites 
 
 My pity, destined for a nuptial bed 
 
 To fall a victim : what hath she to do, 
 
 The virgin daughter, with my Helena ? 
 
 Discharged from Aulis let the troops depart. 
 
 And thou, my brother, cease to dew thine eyes 
 
 With tears, which cause the drops to start in mine. 
 
 Touching thy daughter hast thou oracles 
 
 Which respect me ; no more be that respect ; 
 
 My part I cede to thee. My thoughts are changed 
 
 From cruel, and I feel what I should feel : 
 
 Nature returns, and all a brother's love 
 
 Warm in my heart revives : of no bad man 
 
 The manners these, to follow still the best. 
 
 CHOR. Generous thy words, and worthy Tantalus 
 The son of Jove : thou dost not shame thy birth. 
 
 AGAM. Now I applaud thee ; for beyond my thought 
 Rightly thy words conclude, and worthy thee.
 
 IPHIGENIA IN AUL1S. 163 
 
 MEN. For love and for ambition variance oft 
 Rises 'twixt brothers : but my soul abhors 
 This mutual harshness of unnatural strife. 
 
 AGAM. But dire necessity compels me now 
 My daughter's bloody slaughter to complete. 
 
 MEN. Who shall compel thee to destroy thy child? 
 
 AGAM. The whole assembled host of Greece in arms. 
 
 MEN. Not if to Argos her thou send again. 
 
 AGAM. That might be secret : this must be revealed. 
 
 MEN. What ? Of the people have not too great dread. 
 
 AGAM. The oracle will Calchas sound to all. 
 
 MEN. Not if ere that he die : an easy thing. 
 
 AGAM. Vainglorious is the whole prophetic breed. 
 
 MEN. And of no use when present, of no good. 
 
 AGAM. But seest thou not what enters now my thought? 
 
 MEN. Can I conjecture what thou dost not speak? 
 
 AGAM. He of the race of Sisyphus knows all. 
 
 MEN. Nor thee, nor me, will e'er Ulysses harm. 
 
 AGAM. Artful, the people as he wills he leads. 
 
 MEN. With vanity, a mighty ill, possessed. 
 
 AGAM. Think then thou seest him stand amidst the troops, 
 Declaring to them all the oracle 
 Announced by Calchas : how this sacrifice 
 I promised to Diana, then refused. 
 Soon will he lead the Grecians, and excite them, 
 Me in their fury having slain, and thee, 
 To sacrifice the virgin. Should I fly 
 To Argos, marching thither they will raze 
 Her rampires by the Cyclops raised, and spread 
 Destruction o'er the land. Unhappy me ! 
 Such ills are mine, to this severe distress 
 Brought by the gods ! Yet one thing make thy care : 
 Take heed, as through the host thy steps return, 
 These tidings reach not Clytemnestra's ear, 
 Till I the virgin to th' infernal king 
 Shall have presented, that I may abide 
 With as few tears as may be my hard fate. 
 Silence, ye female strangers, be your part, 
 
 F 2
 
 164 EURIPIDES. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 Strophe. 
 
 How blest their golden days, who prove 
 
 The gentle joys of temp'rate love, 
 When modest Venus on the couch attends. 
 
 Pleased with tranquillity to dwell ! 
 
 But high the madd'ning passions swell. 
 When both his bows the bright-haired tyrant bends ; 
 
 One, by the Graces strung, imparts 
 
 Pure joys that brighten in our hearts ; 
 
 And one, life's wild tumultuous war. 
 Far, beauteous Queen, from us may this be far ; 
 
 Mine be Love's pure and temp'rate grace, 
 
 The holy flame of chaste desire, 
 
 Mild Venus, in my breast inspire ; 
 There never have ungoverned passion place ! 
 
 Antistrophe. 
 
 Nature in man we diffring find, 
 And diff'rent mnnners mark his mind : 
 
 When good, they give each excellence to spring, 
 And education's sage control 
 To every virtue forms the soul : 
 
 Meek modesty then Wisdom loves to bring, 
 She loves to bring each various grace, 
 Which shows where Duty hath its place, 
 Whence Glory beams divinely bright, 
 
 And pours on life unfailing streams of light. 
 Virtues in woman fairest shine 
 That silent guard Love's holy flame ; 
 - Man's various worth ascends to fame 
 
 Most, when t' exalt the state his great design. 
 
 Epode. 
 
 Thence, Paris, didst thou come, 
 Where, on Ida's pastured brow 
 Trained the snowy herds among, 
 Thine was the barbaric song, 
 Thine to bid the sweet notes flow,
 
 IPHIGENIA IN A ULIS. 165 
 
 Whilst thy Phrygian pipe breathes measures, 
 
 Caught from those harmonious treasures 
 
 Which Olympus taught his reed. 
 
 Unmiiked herds around thee feed, 
 Whilst the contending beauties of the skies 
 From thee expect the prize. 
 
 Hence earnest thou to the Grecian shore, 
 
 The ivory-cinctured house before : 
 
 Thy eyes the flames of love inspire, 
 And Helen, as she gazed, received the fire : 
 
 Her charms too rushed upon thy soul, 
 
 And madness reigned without control. 
 
 Hence discord, discord calls to war : 
 
 With many a ship, with many a spear 
 Greece rushes on, impetuous to destroy 
 
 The rampired walls of Troy. 
 How splendid are the fortunes of the great ! 
 See, Iphigenia, daughter of the king, 
 And Clytemnestra, sprung from Tyndarus, 
 My queen ! From noble ancestors they draw 
 Their birth, and are to fortune's highest state 
 Exalted : to th' inferior ranks of life 
 The powerful and the wealthy are as gods. 
 Daughters of Chalcis, near them let us stand, 
 And courteous in our hands receive the queen, 
 As from her car she to the ground descends, 
 With duteous zeal, that she may tread secure ; 
 And that th' illustrious daughter of the king 
 On her arrival nothing may disturb : 
 For, strangers as we are, let us not cause 
 These Argive strangers trouble or affright. 
 
 CLYTEMNESTRA, IPHIGENIA, ATTENDANTS, CHORUS. 
 
 CLYT. This as a prosp'rous. omen I accept, 
 Thy courtesy and gentleness of speech : 
 And hence conceive I hope that I am come 
 To happy nuptials leading her a bride. 
 But from the chariot take the dow'ral gifts 
 Brought with me for the virgin ; to the house
 
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 Bear them with faithful care. My daughter, quit 
 
 The harnessed chariot, and thy delicate foot 
 
 Place on the ground. Ye females, in your arms 
 
 Receive her ; she is weak ; and from the car 
 
 Conduct her down : stretch one of you your hand, 
 
 Supporting me, that may I leave this seat 
 
 In seemly manner. Some before the yoke 
 
 Stand nigh the horses, for their eye is quick, 
 
 Soon startled, and unruly : now receive 
 
 This child, Orestes. Agamemnon's son, 
 
 For he is yet an infant. Dost thou sleep, 
 
 My son ? The rolling chariot hath subdued thee : 
 
 Wake to thy sister's marriage happily ; 
 
 Th' alliance of a noble youth, thyself 
 
 Noble, shalt thou receive, the godlike son 
 
 Of Thetis. Come, my daughter, near me stand, 
 
 Stand near thy mother, Iphigenia, show 
 
 These strangers how supremely I am blest 
 
 In thee ; and here address thee to thy father. 
 
 IPH. Would it offend my mother, should I run 
 And throw myself into my father's arms ? 
 
 AGAMEMNON, CLYTEMNESTRA, IPHIGENIA, CHORUS. 
 
 CLYT. Imperial chief of Greece, my honoured lord, 
 To thy commands obedient we are come. 
 
 IPH. My father, to thy arms I wish to run, 
 Clasped to thy bosom ; dear to me thy sight 
 After such absence : be not angry with me. 
 
 AGAM. Enjoy thy wish : of all my children thou 
 Hast of thy father always been most fond. 
 
 IPH. Absent so long, with joy I look on thee. 
 
 AGAM. And I on thee : so this is mutual joy. 
 
 IPH. Well hast thou done to bring me to thy presence. 
 
 AGAM. If well, or not well done, I cannot say. 
 
 IPH. A gloom hangs on thee '"midst thy joy to see me. 
 
 AGAM. A king and chief hath many anxious cares. 
 
 IPH. But let me have thee now : think not of cares. 
 
 AGAM. Thou hast me all : each thought is bent on thee. 
 
 IPH. Smooth then thy brow, and look with fondness on me.
 
 IPHIGENIA IN A ULIS. 167 
 
 AGAM. To see thee gives me joy, such joy as mine. 
 
 IPH. Yet from thy melting eye thou pourst the tear. 
 
 AGAM. Long, very long the absence to ensue. 
 
 IPH. I know not, dearest father, what this means. 
 
 AGAM. Thy prudent speech makes me more pity thee. 
 
 IPH. Might it divert thee, idly will I talk. 
 
 AGAM. Can I be silent ? O, thou hast my thanks. 
 
 IPH. At home, my father, with thy children stay. 
 
 AGAM. I wish it : but, that wish denied, I grieve. 
 
 IPH. A mischief on the war, and Sparta's wrongs ! 
 
 AGAM. Others will feel the mischief: I have felt it. 
 
 IPH. How long thy absence in the bay of Aulis ! 
 
 AGAM. Something detains me yet, detains the host. 
 
 IPH. Where, father, do they say the Phrygians dwell ? 
 
 AGAM. Where O that Priam's Paris ne'er had lived ! 
 
 IPH. And when thou leavst me is the voyage long ? 
 
 AGAM. To the same place thou with thy father goest. 
 
 IPH. O that with honour I might sail with thee ! 
 
 AGAM. Thou shalt, where thou thy father shalt remember. 
 
 IPH. Go I alone, or sails my mother with me ? 
 
 AGAM. Alone : nor father there, nor mother goes. 
 
 IPH. Dost thou then place me in some other house ? 
 
 AGAM. Ask not : for virgins should not know these things. 
 
 IPH. Haste to me then from Troy, victorious there. 
 
 AGAM. Here first I must present a sacrifice. 
 
 IPH. Those rites thou with the priests must well prepare. 
 
 AGAM. Thou shalt be witness, nigh the lavers placed. 
 
 IPH. Shall we then round the altar raise the song ? 
 
 AGAM. Thee happier than myself in this I deem, 
 That thou art ignorant. But go thou in, 
 Present thee to the virgins. O, that kiss, 
 That dear embrace, how painful from a child, 
 Who from a father must so long be absent ! 
 Ah me, that breast, those cheeks, those golden tresses ! 
 What piercing sorrows hath the Phrygian state 
 And Helen caused us ! But I check my words ; 
 For when I touch thee, in my melting eyes 
 The sudden moisture rises. Go thou in. 
 Daughter of Leda, if with pity touched
 
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 I feel my grief too strong, for that I soon 
 Shall to Achilles my dear child consign, 
 Forgive me : happy is it so to place 
 A daughter, yet it pains a father's heart 
 When he delivers to another house 
 A child, the object of his tender care. 
 
 CLYT. Nor is my heart insensible. I feel, 
 Be thou assured, an equal grief, nor want 
 From thee monitions, when I lead the virgin 
 With hymeneal rites ; but custom, joined 
 With time, will check it. Well : his name I know 
 To whom thou hast betrothed thy daughter ; more 
 I wish to know, his lineage whence he draws. 
 
 AGAM. ^gina was the daughter of Asopus. 
 
 CLYT. With her what mortal wedded, or what god ? 
 
 AGAM. Jove, sire of ^Eacus, (Enone's chief. 
 
 CLYT. What son of JEacus possessed his house ? 
 
 AGAM. Peleus ; the daughter he of Nereus weds. 
 
 CLYT. By force, or by the god's consent obtained ? 
 
 AGAM. Her father gave her, first by Jove betrothed. 
 
 CLYT. Where did he wed her? In the ocean waves? 
 
 AGAM. Where Chiron dwells, on Pelion's awful heights. 
 
 CLYT. The Centaur race, they say, inhabit there. 
 
 AGAM. The gods there present graced his nuptial feast. 
 
 CLYT. Achilles did the sire or Thetis train ? 
 
 AGAM. Chiron, that from bad men he might not learn. 
 
 CLYT. Wise he who took, wise they who gave the charge. 
 
 AGAM. Such is the man who shall thy daughter wed. 
 
 CLYT. Not disapproved ; but where in Greece his seat ? 
 
 AGAM. Where flows Apidanus through Phthia's bounds. 
 
 CLYT. Thine and my daughter thither will he lead ? 
 
 AGAM. When he obtains her, this will be his care. 
 
 CLYT. Blest may they be ! But when the bridal day ? 
 
 AGAM. Soon as the moon's propitious circle fills. 
 
 CLYT. Is for the bride the previous victim slain ? 
 
 AGAM. Soon shall it : this employs my present thought. 
 
 CLYT. And wilt thou next the nuptial feast prepare ? 
 
 AGAM. When I have offered what the gods require. 
 
 CLYT. Where for the females shall we deck the feast ?
 
 1PHIGEN1A IN AUL1S. 169 
 
 AGAM. Here, where the gallant fleet at anchor rides. 
 
 CLYT. Amply supply then what th' occasion claims. 
 
 AGAM. Knowst thou what now I wish thee do ? Obey me. 
 
 CLYT. In what ? Thou long hast trained me to obey. 
 
 AGAM. We in the place where now the bridegroom is 
 
 CLYT. Without the mother ! What to me belongs 
 
 AGAM. Will give thy daughter 'midst th' assembled Greeks. 
 
 CLYT. And where, whilst this is doing, shall I be ? 
 
 AGAM. To Argos go, thy charge the virgins there. 
 
 CLYT. And leave my daughter? Who shall raise the torch? 
 
 AGAM. The light, to deck the nuptials, I will hold. 
 
 CLYT. Custom forbids : nor wouldst thou deem it seemly. 
 
 AGAM. Nor decent that thou mix with martini troops. 
 
 CLYT. But decent that the mother give the daughter. 
 
 AGAM. Nor leave the younger in the house alone. 
 
 CLYT. In close apartments they are guarded well. 
 
 AGAM. Let me persuade thee. 
 
 CLYT. By the potent queen, 
 
 Goddess of Argos, no. Of things abroad 
 Take thou the charge : within the house my care 
 Shall deck the virgin's nuptials as is meet. [She goes in. 
 
 AGAM. Unhappy me ! In vain I came, my hopes 
 Are vanished ; out of sight it was my wish 
 To send my wife : thus I devise, thus form 
 My wily purpose, studious to beguile 
 Those dearest to my soul, in all my aims 
 Confounded. Hence to Calchas will I go 
 The Seer, inquiring what the goddess wills, 
 To me unfortunate, a grief to Greece. 
 A wise man in his house should find a wife 
 Gentle and courteous, or no wife at all. , 
 
 CHORUS. 
 Strophe. 
 
 To Simois, and his silver tide 
 
 In eddies whirling through the plain, 
 
 The fleet of Greece in gallant pride 
 
 Vengeful shall bear this martial train ;
 
 170 EURIPIDES. 
 
 To Ilion's rampired towers shall bear, 
 And Troy, by Phoebus loved, the war. 
 Cassandra there, when on her soul 
 The gods prophetic transports roll, 
 Her brows with verdant laurel loves to bind, 
 Her yellow tresses streaming to the wind. 
 
 AntistropJie. 
 The Trojans high on Ilium's towers, 
 
 And round the walls of Troy shall stand ; 
 When Mars to Simois leads his powers, 
 
 And furious ploughs the hostile strand ; 
 From Priam's ruined house to bear 
 Again to Greece the fatal fair, 
 Whose brothers, sons of Jove, on high 
 Twin stars adorn the spangled sky. 
 Rushing to war his brazen shield he rears, 
 And glitt'ring round him blaze the Grecian spears. 
 
 Epode. 
 
 Phrygian Pergamus around, 
 Walls of rock with turrets crowned, 
 Mars the furious war shall lead : 
 Blood his flaming sword shall stain, 
 As from the trunk he hews the warrior's head, 
 And to the dust shakes Troy's proud walls again. 
 Virgins with their woes opprest, 
 And Priam's queen their fall lament ; 
 Jove-born Helen beats her breast, 
 In anguish, from her lover rent. 
 From me, from mine be far the fate 
 Which Lydia's gorgeous dames with sighs, 
 Whilst Troy's sad matrons wipe their dewy eyes, 
 In mutual converse o'er the web relate, 
 " Who will not rend her crispe'd hair, 
 Who will not pour the gushing tear, 
 
 Low sunk in dust our ruined walls ? 
 Bright daughter of the bird, whose neck 
 Arched in proud state the white plumes deck, 
 For thee in dust our country falls :
 
 IPHIGENIA IN A ULIS. 1 7 1 
 
 If true the fame that mighty Jove - .. 
 
 Changed to a swan sought Leda's love : 
 Or fabling poets from Pieria's spring 
 Their wanton and indecent legends bring." 
 
 ACHILLES, CHORUS. 
 
 ACH. Where is the leader of the Grecian host ? 
 Who of fh' attendants tells him thnt Achilles, 
 The son of Peleus, seeks him at the gate ? 
 Different our state, who nigh the Euripus 
 Wait here : unwedded some, their houses left 
 In solitude, here sit upon the shore; 
 And childless others leave their nuptial beds ; 
 Such ardour, not without the gods, through Greece 
 Flames for this war. What touches me to speak 
 Is mine : let others what their need requires 
 Themselves explain. Thessalia's pleasant fields 
 And Peleus, leaving, at the narrow surge 
 Of Euripus I wait, the Myrmidons 
 Restraining : with impatient instance oft 
 They urge me, " Why, Achilles, stay we here ? 
 What tedious length of time is yet to pass 
 To Ilium ere we sail ? Wouldst thou do aught? 
 Do it, or lead us home ; nor here await 
 The sons of Atreus, and their cold delays." 
 
 CLYTEMNESTRA, ACHILLES, CHORUS. 
 
 CLYT. Son of the goddess Thetis, in the house 
 Hearing thy words I come without the gates. 
 
 ACH. O revered Modesty, whom do mine eyes 
 Behold ? Her form bears dignity and grace. 
 
 CLYT. Not strange thou knowst us not, before not seen ; 
 But thy regard to Modesty I praise. 
 
 ACH. Who art thou ? To the Grecian camp why come, 
 A woman 'midst a host of men in arms ? 
 
 CLYT. Daughter of Leda, Clytemnestra named, 
 Am I, the royal Agamemnon's wife. 
 
 ACH. Well hast thou answered, and in brief : but shame 
 Were mine with wedded dames to hold discourse.
 
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 CLYT. Stay : wherefore dost thou fly me ? With my hand 
 Join thy light hand, pledge of thy happy nuptials. 
 
 ACH. My hand with thine ! To Agamemnon this 
 Were wrong, if, what I have no right, I touch. 
 
 CLYT. Son of the sea-born Nereid, thou hast right, 
 Much right, since thou my daughter soon wilt wed. 
 
 ACH. Wed, dost thou say ? Amazement chains my tongue : 
 What secret purpose hath thy strange discourse ? 
 
 CLYT. 'Tis ever thus : the modest, 'midst new friends, 
 At mention of their nuptials are ashamed. 
 
 ACH. Ne'er did I woo thy daughter ; ne'er did word 
 Of nuptials from th' Atridae reach my ear. 
 
 CLYT. What may this mean ? Thou wonderst at my words, 
 And equal wonder thine excite in me. 
 
 ACH. All is conjecture, common to us both, 
 Both haply are by words alike deceived. 
 
 CLYT. I am abused, according nuptials here 
 Never designed, it seems ; I blush at this. 
 
 ACH. Some one perchance 'gainst thee and me hath framed 
 This mock. Regard it not ; light let it pass. 
 
 CLYT. Farewell ! I cannot look upon thy face, 
 Basely abused, and made a liar thus. 
 
 ACH. Thee too I bid farewell : within the house 
 Inquiries from thy husband will I make. 
 
 ATTENDANT, CLYTEMNESTRA, ACHILLES, CHORUS. 
 
 ATT. Stay, stranger of the race of ^Eacus, 
 Stay, goddess-born : daughter of Leda, stay. 
 
 ACH. Who from the gates calls with his earnest voice? 
 
 ATT. A slave : in that I boast not : no proud vaunt 
 My fortune will admit. 
 
 ACH. Whose slave ? Not mine : 
 
 For I with Agamemnon have no share. 
 
 ATT. Hers, who stands here before the house, the gift 
 Of Tyndarus her father. 
 
 ACH. Well, we stay ; 
 
 What wouldst thou ? why hast thou detained me ? Speak. 
 
 ATT. Are you alone before this royal house ? 
 
 ACH. Speak as to us alone : come from the gates.
 
 IPHIGENIA IN AULIS. 173 
 
 ATT. O fortune, and my provident caution, save 
 Those whom I wish to save ! 
 
 ACH. Thy words portend 
 
 Something not brief, and seem of import high. 
 
 CLYT. Delay not for my hand : speak what thou wouldst. 
 
 ATT. Dost thou then know me, who I am, to thee 
 And to thy children how benevolent ? 
 
 CLYT. I know thee, an old servant of my house. 
 
 ATT. And to the royal Agamemnon given 
 Part of thy dowry. 
 
 CLYT. With us didst thou come 
 
 To Argos, and hast there been always mine. 
 
 ATT. So is it : hence to thee I bear goodwill, 
 But to thy husband less. 
 
 CLYT. Well then, to me, 
 
 Whate'er thy wish to speak, at length disclose. 
 
 ATT. Thy daughter will her father slay, her father 
 With his own hand. 
 
 CLYT. How ! I abhor thy words, 
 
 Old man : thou art not in thy perfect sense. 
 
 ATT. Striking her white neck with the ruthless sword. 
 
 CLYT. Unhappy me ! Hath madness seized his mind ? 
 
 ATT. No : save to thee and to thy daughter, sound 
 His sense : in this he errs from reason wide. 
 
 CLYT. What cause ? What Fury fires him to the deed? 
 
 ATT. The Oracles, and Calchas, that the troops 
 May sail. 
 
 CLYT. Sail whither? Wretched me ! She too 
 How wretched, whom her father will destroy ! 
 
 ATT. To the proud seats of Troy, thence to bring back 
 Helen, the Spartan's wife. 
 
 CLYT. Of her return 
 
 Is Iphigenia doomed the fatal price? 
 
 ATT. E'en so : thy daughter will her father slay 
 A victim to Diana. 
 
 CLYT. From my home 
 
 To win me were these nuptials then devised 
 
 ATT. Thy daughter that with pleasure thou mightst lead 
 To wed Achilles.
 
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 CLYT. To perdition then 
 
 Thou comst, my daughter, and thy mother with thee. 
 
 ATT. Piteous of both the sufferings, and th' attempt 
 Of Agamemnon dreadful. 
 
 CLYT. With my woes 
 
 I sink, mine eye no longer holds the tear. 
 
 ATT. Painful the tear that falls for children lost. 
 
 CLYT. But whence, old man, knowst thou, or heardst thou 
 this ? 
 
 ATT. I took my way. charged with a letter to thee, 
 Since that which had been sent. 
 
 CLYT. Its purport what ? 
 
 Forbidding, or exhorting me to bring 
 My daughter to her death ? 
 
 ATT. This not to bring her 
 
 Gave charge : for wise were then thy husband's thoughts. 
 
 CLYT. Charged with this letter to me, why to me 
 Didst thou not give it ? 
 
 ATT. Menelaus by force 
 
 Took it away, the author of these ills. 
 
 CLYT. Son of the sea-born Nereid, son of Peleus, 
 Dost thou hear this ? 
 
 ACH. What makes thee wretched, lady, 
 
 I hear : and ill what touches me I brook. 
 
 CLYT. My daughter they will slay, the false pretence 
 Thy nuptials. 
 
 ACH. On thy husband I too charge 
 
 Much blame, nor light doth my resentment rise. 
 
 CLYT. Low at thy knees I will not blush to fall, 
 Of mortal birth to one of heavenly race. 
 Why should I now be proud ? Or what demands, 
 More than a daughter's life, my anxious care? 
 Protect, O goddess-born, a wretched mother ; 
 Protect a virgin called thy bride : her head 
 With garlands ah, in vain ! yet did I crown, 
 And led her as by thee to be espoused ; 
 Now to be slain I bring her : but on thee, 
 If thou protect her not, reproach will fall ; 
 For, though not joined in marriage, thou wast called
 
 IPH1GENIA IN AULIS. 175 
 
 The husband of the virgin. By this cheek, 
 By this right hand, by her that gave thee birth 
 (For me thy name hath ruined, and from thee 
 I therefore claim protection), I have now 
 No altar, but thy knee, to which to fly, 
 I have no friend but thee : the fell designs 
 Of Agamemnon's ruthless heart thou hearst ; 
 And I, a woman, as thou seest, am come 
 To this unruly camp, in mischiefs bold, 
 Of use but when they list. If thou shalt dare 
 Stretch forth thine hand to aid me, I shall find 
 Safety : if not, then am I lost indeed. 
 
 CHOR. To be a mother is the amplest source 
 Of nature's dear affections : this to all 
 Is common, for their children anxious thought. 
 
 ACH. To noblest thoughts my tow'ring soul is raised, 
 Which at the woes of others knows to melt, 
 And bear with moderation fortune's smiles. 
 
 CHOR. These are the men, who, trained in reason's lore, 
 As wisdom guides them, form their life aright. 
 
 ACH. There is a time, when not to build too much 
 On our own wisdom is agreeable : 
 But then there is a time, when to exert 
 Our judgment is of use. By Chiron trained, 
 Of mortals the most righteous, I have learned 
 Simplicity of manners. To the sons 
 Of Atreus, when their high commands are stamped 
 With honour, my obedience shall be paid : 
 Where honour bids not, I shall not obey : 
 But my free nature here, and when at Troy, 
 Preserved, my spear shall to my utmost power 
 Add glory to the war. But thee, oppressed 
 With miseries, and by those most dear to thee, 
 Far as a young man may, so strong I feel 
 The touch of pity, thee will I protect ; 
 And never shall thy daughter, who was called 
 Mine, by her father's hand be slain ; to weave 
 His wily trains thy husband ne'er shall make 
 Me his pretext ; for so my name would slay
 
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 Thy daughter, though it lifted not the sword. 
 
 The cause indeed thy husband ; yet not pure 
 
 My person, if through me, and through my nuptials, 
 
 The virgin perish, suffering dreadful things 
 
 And wrongs, at which astonished nature starts. 
 
 I were the basest of the Greeks, a thing 
 
 Nought worth (and Menelaus might well be ranked 
 
 'Mongst men), no more the son of Peleus deemed, 
 
 But of some cruel demon, should my name, 
 
 Pleaded to screen thy husband's purpose, kill her. 
 
 By Nereus, who beneath the wat'ry waves 
 
 Was trained, the sire of Thetis, whence my birth, 
 
 The roynl Agememnon shall not touch 
 
 Thy daughter, with his ringer shall not touch her, 
 
 Nor e'en her robes : else Sipylus, a mean 
 
 Barbaric town, from whence our chiefs derive 
 
 Their race, shall be illustrious, and my realm, 
 
 Phthia, be slighted as unknown to fame. 
 
 His lustral lavers and his salted cakes 
 
 With sorrow shall the prophet Calchas bear 
 
 Away. The prophet ! What is he ? A man 
 
 Who speaks 'mongst many falsehoods but few truths, 
 
 Whene'er chance leads him to speak true ; when false, 
 
 The prophet is no more. With nuptial rites 
 
 Why should I say how many virgins sue 
 
 To be united to me ? But of that 
 
 No more. The royal Agamemnon wrongs me, 
 
 Greatly he wrongs me : ought he not from me, 
 
 Would he betroth his daughter, ask my name ? 
 
 Th' assent of Clytemnestra then with ease 
 
 Had I obtained to give her daughter to me. 
 
 I to the Greeks had given her, if to Troy 
 
 For this their course were checked ; the public good 
 
 Of those with whom I join my arms t' exalt 
 
 I should not have refused : but with the chiefs 
 
 I now am nothing, held of no esteem 
 
 To act, or not to act, in glory's cause. 
 
 But soon this sword shall know whom, ere to Troy 
 
 I come, with drops of blood I shall distain,
 
 IPHIGEN1A IN AVLIS. 177 
 
 Whoe'er he be that shall attempt to take 
 
 Thy daughter from me. Rest thou then in peace ; 
 
 I, as a guardian god, am come to thee : 
 
 Great is the contest, yet it shall be proved. 
 CHOR. Worthy, O son of Peleus, of thyself, 
 
 Worthy the sea-born goddess, are thy words. 
 
 CLYT. How shall I praise thee, that due bounds my words 
 
 Exceed not, nor beneath thy merit sink, 
 
 Thy grace impairing : for the good, when praised, 
 
 Feel something of disgust, if to excess 
 
 Commended. But I blush at words that raise 
 
 Pity at private woes, whilst of my ills 
 
 No share is thine : yet lovely is the sight, 
 
 When, stranger though he be, to the distressed 
 
 A good man gives assistance. Pity me ; 
 
 My sufPrings call for pity : when I thought 
 
 To have thee for a son, I fondly fed 
 
 A false and flatt'ring hope. To thee perchance, 
 
 And to thy future nuptials, this might be 
 
 An omen, should my daughter die ; 'gainst this 
 
 Behoves thee guard. Well did thy words begin, 
 
 And well they ended : be it then thy will 
 
 My daughter shall be saved. Wilt thou she fall 
 
 A suppliant at thy knees ? This ill becomes 
 
 A virgin ; yet, if such thy will, with all 
 
 Her blushes shall she come, and in her eye 
 
 Ingenuous modesty : or the same grace 
 
 Shall I, if absent she, obtain from thee ? 
 
 ACH. Let her remain within : for Modesty 
 With her own modest dignity is pleased. 
 
 CLYT. Yet must we sue to thee with earnest prayer. 
 ACH. Nor bring thy daughter, lady, to our sight, 
 Nor ours be rude reproach. Th' assembled host, 
 At leisure from their own domestic cares, 
 Loves the malignant jest and sland'rous tale. 
 Suppliant or not, alike shall you obtain 
 From me this grace : the contest shall be mine, 
 Great as it is, to free you from your ills. 
 Of one thing be assured, ne'er shall my tongue
 
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 Utter a falsehood : if I speak untruth, 
 
 And mock thee with vain promise, let me die : 
 
 But as I save thy daughter may I live. 
 
 CLYT. O be thou blest, thus aiding the unhappy ! 
 
 ACH. Now hear me, how success may best be ours. 
 
 CLYT. What wouldst thou ? My attention thou mayst claim. 
 
 ACH. The father's purpose let persuasion change. 
 
 CLYT. He, void of spirit, too much fears the host. 
 
 ACH. Yet reason o'er the spiritless prevails. 
 
 CLYT. Small are my hopes : yet, say, what must I do ? 
 
 ACH. First, be a suppliant to him not to slay 
 His children : if rejected, come to me. 
 If thy entreaties win him, of my aid 
 There is no need : thy daughter's life is saved, 
 I with my friend shall be on better terms, 
 And nought of blame the army to my charge 
 Can then impute, if I by reason wish 
 T' effect my purpose, not by violence. 
 Well to thy warmest wish may this succeed, 
 And to thy friends', accomplished without me. 
 
 CLYT. How wise thy words ! Whate'er to thee seems right 
 Shall be attempted. Should I not effect 
 The things I wish, where shall I see thee next, 
 Or whither bend my wretched steps to find 
 Thy hand, my firm protector 'gainst these ills ? 
 
 ACH. Far as occasion shall require, myself 
 Will be thy guard. But with disordered step 
 Let no one see thee hurrying through the throng 
 Of Grecians, nor disgrace thy father's house : 
 On Tyndarus unmerited would fall 
 Aught of ill fame, for he is great in Greece. 
 
 CLYT. It shall be so. Lead thou ; on thee to wait 
 Me it behoves. If there are gods, on thee, 
 Just as thou art, their blessings must attend : 
 If not, to what effect is all our toil ?
 
 IPHIGENIA IN AULIS. 179 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Strophe. 
 What were the strains that Hymen gave tO"S\vell, 
 
 The Lybian pipe its warbles sweet 
 
 Attempting to the chorded shell, 
 That loves to guide the mazy-winding feet, 
 
 Whilst the whisp'ring reed around 
 
 Breathes a soft responsive sound, 
 When to the feast of gods on Pelion's brow 
 
 The golden -sandalled Muses took their way, 
 Loose to the gale their beauteous tresses flow, 
 Thee, Peleus, gracing, and thy bridal day, 
 
 As they pierce the tangled grove, 
 
 O'er the mountain as they rove 
 
 Where the Centaur race reside, 
 
 Peleus and his lovely bride 
 
 They hail, and those wild scenes among 
 
 Pour the mellifluous song. 
 The Phrygian Ganymede of form divine, 
 
 A royal youth of Dardan race, 
 
 Advanced the feast of Jove to grace, 
 Poured from the glowing bowls the sparkling wine. 
 
 Fifty nymphs the white sands o'er, 
 
 Daughters they of Nereus hoar, 
 
 To the nuptials light advance, 
 
 And weave the circling dance. 
 
 Antistrophe. 
 The Centaurs waving high their spears of pine, 
 
 Their heads with grassy garlands crowned, 
 
 Came to the bowls, the feast divine, 
 Their hoofs swift-bounding o'er the rattling ground. 
 
 There the nymphs of Thessaly 
 
 Raised their tuneful voices high ; 
 The prophet Phcebus joined the solemn strain, 
 
 And Chiron skilled to trace the Fates' decree. 
 " Daughter of Nereus," sung the raptured train, 
 "A son, bright beam of beauty, shall from thee
 
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 Draw his birth, who will advance, 
 Dreadful vriih his flaming lance, 
 With his Myrmidons that wield 
 Fierce in fight the spear and shield, 
 To th' illustrious realms of Troy, 
 
 And her proud towers destroy : 
 His manly limbs refulgent arms enfold ; 
 Vulcan, at the mother's prayer, 
 Shall the glorious gift prepare, 
 And all the hero blaze in burnished gold." 
 Thus when Peleus won his bride, 
 Of the Nereid train the pride, 
 Came the gods in bright array 
 
 To grace their nuptial day. 
 
 Epode. 
 
 But thee, unhappy maid, thy head 
 
 With flow'ry garlands Greece shall crown ; 
 As from the mountain cave's cool shade 
 
 Some beauteous heifer coming down, 
 Her neck no rude yoke knows, decreed 
 A victim at some shrine to bleed. 
 But now a human neck must bow, 
 And now the virgin's blood must flow, 
 Not trained the sylvan wilds among 
 To rustic pipe or pastoral song ; 
 Her the fond mother decked with pride 
 As to some Grecian chief a bride. 
 The lovely form, the beauteous face, 
 And modest virtue's blushing grace 
 Avail no more : in evil hour 
 Impiety hath seized the power ; 
 A slighted outcast Virtue fails, 
 Injustice o'er the laws prevails : 
 The common danger none descries, 
 Th' impending vengeance of the skies.
 
 IPHIGENIA IN AITLIS. 181 
 
 CLYTEMNESTRA, CHORUS. 
 
 CLYT. I am come forth, if haply I may see 
 My husband ; long his absence since he left 
 The house. In tears is my unhappy daughter, 
 And heaves the frequent sigh, since she hath heard 
 The death to which her father destines her. 
 T spoke of one that is approaching nigh, 
 This Agamemnon, who will soon be found 
 Daring against his children impious deeds. 
 
 AGAMEMNON, CLYTEMNESTRA, CHORUS. 
 
 AGAM. Daughter of Leda, to my wish I find thee 
 Before the house, that from my daughter's ear 
 Apart I may speak words, which ill beseems 
 A virgin, soon to be a bride, to hear. 
 
 CLYT. What is it ? Let not the occasion pass. 
 
 AGAM. Send now thy daughter to her father's charge 
 Committed ; for the lavers ready stand, 
 The salted cakes, which o'er the lustral fire 
 The hand must cast, the heifers too, whose blood 
 Must in black streams, before the nuptials, flow 
 To the chaste queen Diana, are prepared. 
 
 CLYT. Thy words indeed are gracious, but thy deeds 
 I know not, should I name them, how to praise. 
 Yet come thou forth, my daughter, for to thee 
 Are all thy father's purposes well known : 
 And bring thy brother, bring Orestes, wrapt 
 Close in thy vests, my child. See, she is here 
 In prompt obedience to thee : what for her, 
 What for myself is meet, that shall I speak. 
 
 AGAMEMNON, CLYTEMNESTRA, IPHIGENIA, CHORUS. 
 
 AGAM. Why weeps my daughter ? cheerful now no more 
 Thy look, nor pleasant : wherefore is thine eye 
 Fixed on the ground, thy robe before it held ? 
 
 I PH. Ah me ! Whence first shall I begin to speak
 
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 My ills ? For all in ills have found a first, 
 A last, a middle, and successive train. 
 
 AGAM. Why is it that you all are drawn together, 
 With terror and confusion in your looks ? 
 
 CLYT. Answer to what I ask with honest truth. 
 
 AGAM. Speak freely : to be questioned is my wish. 
 
 CLYT. Thine and my daughter art thou bent to slay ? 
 
 AGAM. Ah, what a question ! What suspicion this ! 
 
 CLYT. To this without evasion answer first. 
 
 AGAM. Ask what is meet, thou what is meet shalt hear. 
 
 CLYT. I ask this only ; to this only speak. 
 
 AGAM. O fate ! O fortune ! O my awful doom ! 
 
 CLYT. And mine, and hers, one to us wretched three ! 
 
 AGAM. In what have I done wrong ? 
 
 CLYT. Canst thou ask this 
 
 Of me ? Thy purpose is unwise and ill. 
 
 AGAM. I am undone : my secrets are betrayed. 
 
 CLYT. I have heard all, know all, which thou wouldst do 
 Against me : e'en thy silence and thy sighs 
 Confess it ; labour not to give it words. 
 
 AGAM. Lo, I am silent ; for to misery 
 I should add shamelessness by speaking false. 
 
 CLYT. Now hear me, for my thoughts will I unfold 
 In no obscure and coloured mode of speech. 
 First then, for first with this will I upbraid thee, 
 Me didst thou wed against my will, and seize 
 By force ; my former husband Tantalus 
 By thee was slain. By thee my infant son, 
 Torn from my breast by violence, was whirled 
 And dashed against the ground. The sons of Jove, 
 My brothers, glitt'ring on their steeds in arms 
 Advanced against thee ; but old Tyndarus, 
 'My father, saved thee, at his knees become 
 A supplicant ; and hence didst thou obtain 
 My bed. To thee and to thy house my thoughts 
 Thus reconciled, thou shalt thyself attest 
 How irreproachable a wife I was, 
 How chaste, with what attention I increased 
 The splendour of thy house, that ent'ring there
 
 IPHIGENIA IN A ULIS. 183 
 
 Thou hadst delight, and going out, with thee 
 
 Went happiness along. A wife like this 
 
 Is a rare prize ; the worthless are not rare. 
 
 Three daughters have I borne thee, and this son. 
 
 Of one of these wilt thou O piercing grief ! 
 
 Deprive me. Should one ask thee, for what cause 
 
 Thy daughter wilt thou kill, what wouldst thou say ? 
 
 Speak ; or I must speak for thee ! E'en for this, 
 
 That Menelaus may regain Helena. 
 
 Well would it be, if, for his wanton wife 
 
 Our children made the price, what most we hate 
 
 With what is dearest to us we redeem. 
 
 But if thou lead the forces, leaving me 
 
 At Argos, should thy absence then be long, 
 
 Think what my heart must feel, when in the house 
 
 I see the seats all vacant of my child, 
 
 And her apartment vacant : I shall sit 
 
 Alone, in tears, thus ever wailing her : 
 
 " Thy father, O my child, hath slain thee ; he 
 
 That gave thee birth, hath killed thee, not another, 
 
 Nor by another hand ; this is the prize 
 
 He left his house." But do not, by the gods, 
 
 Do not compel me to be aught but good 
 
 To thee, nor be thou aught but good to me ; 
 
 Since there will want a slight pretence alone 
 
 For me, and for my daughters left at home, 
 
 To welcome, as becomes us, thy return. 
 
 Well, thou wilt sacrifice thy child : what vows 
 
 Wilt thou then form ? what blessing wilt thou ask 
 
 To wait thee, thou, who dost thy daughter slay 
 
 Thou, who with shame to this unlucky war 
 
 Art marching? Is it just that I should pray 
 
 For aught of good to thee ? Should I not deem 
 
 The gods unwise, if they their favours shower 
 
 On those who stain their willing hands with blood ? 
 
 Wilt thou, to Argos when returned, embrace 
 
 Thy children ? But thou hast no right : thy face 
 
 Which of thy children will behold, if one 
 
 With cool deliberate purpose thou shalt kill?
 
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 Now to this point I come : if thee alone 
 
 To bear the sceptre, thee to lead the troops 
 
 Th' occasion called, shouldst thou not thus have urged 
 
 Thy just appeal to Greece: " Is it your will, 
 
 Ye Grecians, to the Phrygian shores to sail ? 
 
 Cast then the lot whose daughter must be slain." 
 
 This had at least been equal ; nor hadst thou 
 
 Been singled out from all to give thy child 
 
 A victim for the Greeks. Or Menelaus, 
 
 Whose cause this is, should for the mother slay 
 
 Hermione : but I. who to thy bed 
 
 Am faithful, of my child shall be deprived, 
 
 And she, that hath misdone, at her return 
 
 To Sparta her young daughter shall bear back, 
 
 And thus be happy. Aught if I have said 
 
 Amiss, reply to that : but if my words 
 
 Speak nought but sober reason, do not slay 
 
 Thy child, and mine : and thus thou wilt be wise. 
 
 CHOR. Be thou persuaded : reason bids preserve 
 Our children : this no mortal can gainsay. 
 
 I PH. Had I, my father, the persuasive voice 
 Of Orpheus, and his skill to charm the rocks 
 To follow me, and soothe whome'er I please 
 With winning words, I would make trial of it ; 
 But I have nothing to present thee now 
 Save tears, my only eloquence ; and those 
 I can present thee. On thy knees I hang, 
 A suppliant wreath, this body, which she bore 
 To thee. Ah ! kill me not in youth's fresh prime. 
 Sweet is the light of heaven ; compel me not 
 What is beneath to view. I was the first 
 To call thee father, me thou first didst call 
 Thy child ; I was the first that on thy knees 
 Fondly caressed thee, and from thee received 
 The fond caress ; this was thy speech to me : 
 " Shall I, my child, e'er see thee in some house 
 Of splendour, happy in thy husband, live, 
 And flourish, as becomes my dignity ? " 
 My speech to thee was, leaning 'gainst thy cheek,
 
 IPHIGENIA IN AULIS. 18$ 
 
 Which with my hand I now caress : " And what 
 
 Shall I then do for thee ? Shall I receive 
 
 My father* when grown old, and in my house 
 
 Cheer him with each fond office, to repay 
 
 The careful nurture which he gave my youth ? " 
 
 These words are on my memory deep impressed ; 
 
 Thou hast forgot them, and wilt kill thy child. 
 
 By Pelops I entreat thee, by thy sire 
 
 Atreus, by this my mother, who before 
 
 Suffered for me the pangs of childbirth, now 
 
 These pangs again to suffer, do not kill me. 
 
 If Paris be enamoured of his bride, 
 
 His Helen, what concerns it me ? and how 
 
 Comes he to my destruction ? Look upon me, 
 
 Give me a smile, give me a kiss, my father, 
 
 That, if my words persuade thee not, in death 
 
 I may have this memorial of thy love. 
 
 My brother, small assistance canst thou give 
 
 Thy friends, yet for thy sister with thy tears 
 
 Implore thy father that she may not die : 
 
 E'en infants have a sense of ills : and see, 
 
 My father, silent though he be, he sues 
 
 To thee : be gentle to me, on my life 
 
 Have pity. Thy two children by this beard 
 
 Entreat thee, thy dear children : one is yet 
 
 An infant, one to riper years arrived. 
 
 I will sum all in this, which shall contain 
 
 More than long speech : To view the light of life 
 
 To mortals is most sweet, but all beneath 
 
 Is nothing : of his senses is he reft 
 
 Who hath a wish to die ; for life, though ill, 
 
 Excels whate'er there is of good in death. 
 
 CHOR. For thee, unhappy Helen, and thy love, 
 A contest dreadful, and surcharged with woes, 
 To the Atridas and their children comes. 
 
 AGAM. What calls for pity, and what not, I know : 
 I love my children, else I should be void 
 Of reason : to dare this is dreadful to me, 
 And not to dare is dreadful. I perforce ' /
 
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 Must do it. What a naval camp is here 
 You see, how many kings of Greece arrayed 
 In glitt'ring arms : to Ilium's towers are these 
 Denied t' advance, unless I offer thee 
 A victim, thus the prophet Calchas speaks, 
 Denied from her foundations to o'erturn 
 Illustrious Troy ; and through the Grecian host 
 Maddens the fierce desire to sail with speed 
 'Gainst the Barbarians' land, and check their rage 
 For Grecian dames. My daughters these will slay 
 At Argos, you too will they slay, and me, 
 Should I, the goddess not revering, make 
 Of none effect her oracle. To this 
 Not Menelaus, my child, hath wrought my soul, 
 Nor to his will am I a slave ; but Greece, 
 For which will I, or will I not, perforce 
 Thee I must sacrifice : my weakness here 
 I feel, and must submit. In thee, my child, 
 What lies, and what in me, Greece should be free, 
 Nor should her sons beneath Barbarians bend, 
 Their nuptial beds to ruffian force a prey. 
 
 CLYTEMNESTRA, IPHIGENIA, CHORUS. 
 
 CLYT. Alas, my child ! O strangers ! Wretched me, 
 How wretched in thy death ! Thy father flies thee ; 
 He flies, but dooms thee to the realms beneath. 
 I PH. My mother, O my mother ! Wretched me ! 
 
 For both our fortunes, full of woe, 
 
 One strain, one mournful strain shall flow. 
 
 No more the gladsome light of day, 
 
 No more the bright sun's golden ray 
 
 Shall shine, ah me ! to cheer my child. 
 
 Ah me ! Ye Phrygian forests wild, 
 
 Ye snow-clad mountains, rude that rise, 
 
 Mountains of Ida to the skies ; 
 
 Where Priam once his son unblest, 
 
 Far severed from his mother's breast, 
 
 Exposed, this Paris to destroy ; 
 
 Idaeus thencethey called the boy;
 
 IPHIGENIA IN AULIS. 187 
 
 The boy they called Idieus, known 
 
 So named through all the Phrygian town. 
 
 O that his son he ne'er had laid 
 
 Where with their herds the herdsmen strayed, 
 
 The fountains of the nymphs among, 
 
 Where roll the lucid streams along, 
 
 And the green mead profusely pours 
 
 The blushing glow of roseate flowers, 
 
 With hyacinths of dusky hue, 
 
 For goddesses which lovely grew. 
 
 Once Pallas came to those sweet glades, 
 
 And Juno deigned to grace their shades, 
 
 And Venus fraught with wanton wiles, 
 
 Resistless with enchanting smiles, 
 
 And Hermes, messenger of Jove. 
 
 Venus in all the sweets of love 
 
 Rejoicing, Pallas in her spear, 
 
 And proud the bed of Jove to share, 
 
 Juno's bright form, imperial dame, 
 
 Once to the odious judgment came : 
 
 For beauty and for beauty's prize 
 
 This contest drew them from the skies, 
 
 But death on me : yet Greece shall own 
 
 My death assures her high renown. 
 CHOR. Diana hath accepted thee the first 
 Of victims, that our arms may sail to Troy. 
 I PH. But he, to whom my birth I owe, 
 
 Betrays and flies me 'midst my woe. 
 
 My mother ! Ah my cruel fate ! 
 
 He flies, and leaves me desolate. 
 
 Ill-omened Helena, thy love 
 
 Fatal, will fatal to me prove : 
 
 I die, I perish, I am slain, 
 
 My blood th' unhallowed sword shall stain ; 
 
 Unhallowed is my father's hand, 
 That pours it on th' empurpled sand. 
 
 O, had the ships ne'er ploughed their way 
 To Aulis, to this winding bay ! 
 
 O, had Jove given the fleet to bear
 
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 To Troy's proud shores the wafted war ; 
 Not adverse winds, that sullen sweep 
 Across Euboea's angry deep ! 
 To some he grants the fav'ring gales 
 That wanton in their flying sails ; 
 Necessity to some and pain; 
 To some to cut the azure main ; 
 These quit the port with gallant pride, 
 Reluctant those at anchor ride. 
 To suff 'rings born the human race, 
 In suff 'rings pass life's little space : 
 Why since misfortunes 'round them wait, 
 Should men invite their cruel fate ? 
 
 CHOR. Alas, what woes, what miseries hath thou brought, 
 Daughter of Tyndarus, on Greece ! But thec, 
 Unhappy virgin, by this flood of ills 
 O'erwhelmed I wail. Ah, were this fate not thine ! 
 
 I PH. My mother, what a crowd of men I see 
 Advance 1 
 
 CLYT. The son of Thetis with them comes, 
 For whom, my child, I led thee to this strand. 
 I PH. Open the doors to me, ye female train, 
 That I may hide myself. 
 
 CLYT. Whom dost thou fly ? 
 
 I PH. Achilles, whom I blush to see. 
 CLYT. And why ? 
 
 IPH. These ill-starred nuptials cover me with shame. 
 CLYT. Nothing of pleasure doth thy state present. 
 Yet stay : this is no time for grave reserve. 
 
 ACHILLES, CLYTEMNESTRA, IPHIGENIA, CHORUS. 
 
 ACH. Daughter of Leda, O unhappy queen ! 
 
 CLYT. Thy voice speaks nothing false. 
 
 ACH. Among the Greeks 
 
 Dreadful the clamour. 
 
 CLYT. What the clamour ? Say. 
 
 ACH. Touching thy daughter. 
 
 CLYT. Thou hast said what bears 
 
 No happy omen. 
 
 \
 
 IPHIGENIA IN AULIS. 189 
 
 ACH. That she must be slain 
 
 A victim. 
 
 CLYT. And doth none against this speak ? 
 
 ACH. I was with outrage threatened. 
 
 CLYT. Stranger, how? 
 
 ACH. To be o'erwhelmed with stones. 
 
 CLYT. Whilst thou wouldst save 
 
 My child ? 
 
 ACH. E'en so. 
 
 CLYT. Who dared to touch thee ? 
 
 ACH. All 
 
 The Grecians. 
 
 CLYT. Were thy troops of Myrmidons 
 
 Not present to thee ? 
 
 ACH. They were first in rage. 
 
 CLYT. Then are we lost, my child. 
 
 ACH. They cried aloud 
 
 That I was vanquished by a woman. 
 
 CLYT. Aught 
 
 Didst thou reply? 
 
 ACH. That her, who was to be 
 
 My bride, they should not slay. 
 
 CLYT. With justice urged. 
 
 ACH. Named by her father mine. 
 
 CLYT. From Argos brought 
 
 By his command. 
 
 ACH. In vain : I was o'erpowered 
 
 By their rude cries. 
 
 CLYT. The many are indeed 
 
 A dreadful ill. 
 
 ACH. Yet I will give thee aid. 
 
 CLYT. Wilt thou alone fight with a host? 
 
 ACH. Thou seest 
 
 These bearing arms. 
 
 CLYT. May thy designs succeed ! 
 
 ACH. They shall succeed. 
 
 CLYT. Shall not my child be slain ? 
 
 ACH. Never by my permission. 
 
 CLYT. Will none come 
 
 To lay rude hands upon the virgin ?
 
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 ACH. Many : 
 
 Ulysses with them ; he will lead her. 
 
 CLYT. What, 
 
 He of the race of Sisyphus ? 
 
 ACH. The same. 
 
 CLYT. Comes he of his free will, or by the host 
 Appointed ? 
 
 ACH. Chosen, by his own consent. 
 
 CLYT. Bad choice, to be with blood polluted. 
 
 ACH. Him 
 
 Will I keep from her. 
 
 CLYT. Would he drag her hence 
 
 Against her will ? 
 
 ACH. E 'en by her golden locks. 
 
 CLYT. What now behoves me do ? 
 
 ACH. Be firm, and hold 
 
 Thy daughter back. 
 
 CLYT. And shall she not be slain 
 
 For that ? 
 
 ACH. But he will surely come for this. 
 
 I PH. My mother, hear ye now my words : for thee 
 Offended with thy husband I behold. 
 Vain anger ! for where force will take its way, 
 To struggle is not easy. Our warm thanks 
 Are to this stranger for his prompt goodwill 
 Most justly due : yet, it behoves thee, see 
 Thou art not by the army charged with blame ; 
 Nothing the more should we avail, on him 
 Mischief would fall. Hear then what to my mind 
 Deliberate thought presents. It is decreed 
 For me to die : this then I wish, to die 
 With glory, all reluctance banished far. 
 My mother, weigh this well, that what I speak 
 Is honour's dictate. All the powers of Greece 
 Have now their eyes on me ; on me depends 
 The sailing of the fleet, the fall of Troy, 
 And not to suffer, should a new attempt 
 Be dared, the rude Barbarians from blest Greece 
 To bear in future times her dames by force,
 
 IPHIGENIA IN A ULIS. 191 
 
 This ruin bursting on them for the loss 
 
 Of Helena, whom Paris bore away. 
 
 By dying all these things shall I achieve, 
 
 And blest, for that I have delivered Greece, 
 
 Shall be my fame. To be too fond of life 
 
 Becomes not me ; nor for thyself alone, 
 
 But to all Greece a blessing, didst thou bear me. 
 
 Shall thousands, when their country's injured, lift 
 
 Their shields, shall thousands grasp the oar, and dare, 
 
 Advancing bravely 'gainst the foe, to die 
 
 For Greece ? And shall my life, my single life, 
 
 Obstruct all this ? Would this be just ? What word 
 
 Can we reply ? Nay more ; it is not right 
 
 That he with all the Grecians should contend 
 
 In fight, should die, and for a woman. No ; 
 
 More than a thousand women is one man 
 
 Worthy to see the light of life. If me 
 
 The chaste Diana wills t' accept, shall I, 
 
 A mortal, dare oppose her heavenly will ? 
 
 Vain the attempt : for Greece I give my life. 
 
 Slay me, demolish Troy : for these shall be 
 
 Long time my monuments, my children these, 
 
 My nuptials, and my glory. It is meet 
 
 That Greece should o'er Barbarians bear the sway, 
 
 Not that Barbarians lord it over Greece : 
 
 Nature hath formed them slaves, the Grecians free. 
 
 CHOR. Thine, royal virgin, is a generous part : 
 But harsh what Fortune and the Goddess wills. 
 
 ACH. Daughter of Agamemnon, highly blest 
 Some god would make me, if I might attain 
 Thy nuptials. Greece in thee I happy deem, 
 And thee in Greece. This hast thou nobly spoken, 
 And worthy of thy country : to contend 
 Against a goddess of superior power 
 Desisting, thou hast judged the public good 
 A better, nay, a necessary part. 
 For this more ardent my desire to gain thee 
 My bride, this disposition when I see, 
 For it is generous. But consider well :
 
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 To do thee good, to lead thee to my house, 
 
 Is my warm wish; and much I should be grieved, 
 
 Be witness Thetis, if I save thee not 
 
 In arms against the Grecians. In thy thought 
 
 Revolve this well : death is a dreadful thing. 
 
 IPH. Reflecting not on any this I speak, 
 Enough of wars and slaughters from the charms 
 Of Helen rise : but die not thou for me, 
 
 stranger, nor distain thy sword with blood ; 
 But let me save my country, if I may. 
 
 ACH. O glorious spirit ! Nought have I 'gainst this 
 To urge, since such thy will ; for what thou sayst 
 Is generous : why should not the truth be spoken ? 
 But of thy purpose thou mayst yet repent. 
 Know then my resolution : I will go, 
 And nigh the altar place these arms, thy death 
 Preventing, not permitting : thou perchance 
 Mayst soon approve my purpose, nigh thy throat 
 When thou shalt see the sword : and for that cause 
 
 1 will not, for a rash unweighed resolve, 
 Abandon thee to die ; but with these arms 
 Wait near Diana's temple till thou come. 
 
 CLYTEMNESTRA, IPHIGENIA, CHORUS. 
 
 IPH. Why, mother, dost thou shed these silent tears ? 
 CLYT. I have a cruel cause, that rends my heart. 
 IPH. Forbear, nor sink my spirit. Grant me this. 
 CLYT. Say what : by me my child shall ne'er be wronged. 
 IPH. Clip not those crispeM tresses from thine head, 
 Nor robe thee in the sable garb of woe. 
 CLYT. What hast thou said, my child ? When thou art 
 
 lost 
 
 IPH. Not lost, but saved : through me thou shalt be famed. 
 
 CLYT. What, for thy death shall I not mourn, my child ? 
 
 IPH. No, since for me a tomb shall not be raised. 
 
 CLYT. To die then, is not that to be entombed ? 
 
 IPH. The altar of the goddess is my tomb. 
 
 CLYT. Well dost thou speak, my child : I will comply. 
 
 IPH. And deem me blest, as working good to Greece.
 
 1PHIGENIA IN A ULIS. 193 
 
 CLYT. What message to thy sisters shall I bear ? 
 
 I PH. Them too array not in the garbs of woe. 
 
 CLYT. What greetings to the virgins dost thou send ? 
 
 IPH. My last farewell. To manhood train Orestes. 
 
 CLYT. Embrace him, for thou ne'er shalt see him more. 
 
 IPH. Far as thou couldst, thou didst assist thy friends. 
 
 {To Orestes. 
 
 CLYT. At Argos can I do aught pleasing to thee ? 
 
 IPH. My father, and thy husband, do not hate. 
 
 CLYT. For thy dear sake fierce contests must he benr. 
 
 IPH. For Greece, reluctant, me to death he yields. 
 
 CLYT. Basely, with guile, unworthy Atreus' son. 
 
 IPH. Who goes with me, and leads me, by the hair 
 Ere I am dragged ? 
 
 CLYT. I will go with thee. 
 
 IPH. No: 
 
 That were unseemly. 
 
 CLYT. Hanging on thy robes. 
 
 IPH. Let me prevail, my mother; stay. Tome 
 As more becoming this, and more to thee. 
 Let one of these, th' attendants of my father, 
 Conduct me to Diana's hallowed mead, 
 Where I shall fall a victim. 
 
 CLYT. O my child, 
 
 Dost thou then go ? 
 
 IPH. And never to return. 
 
 CLYT. And wilt thou leave thy mother ? 
 
 IPH. As thou seest, 
 
 Not as I merit. 
 
 CLYT. Stay, forsake me not. 
 
 IPH. I suffer not a tear to fall. But you, 
 Ye virgins, to my fate attune the hymn, 
 " Diana, daughter of almighty Jove." 
 With fav'ring omens sing " Success to Greece." 
 Come, with the basket one begin the rites, 
 One with the purifying cakes the flames 
 Enkindle ; let my father his right hand 
 Place on the altar ; for I come to give 
 Safety to Greece, and conquest to her arms. 
 
 o
 
 194 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Lead me : mine the glorious fate 
 
 To o'erturn the Phrygian state ; 
 
 Ilium's towers their head shall bow. 
 
 With the garlands bind my brow, 
 
 Bring them, be these tresses crowned. 
 
 Round the shrine, the altar round 
 
 Bear the lavers, which you fill 
 
 From the pure translucent rill. 
 
 High your choral voices raise, 
 
 Tuned to hymn Diana's praise, 
 
 Blest Diana, royal maid. 
 
 Since the fates demand my aid, 
 
 I fulfil their awful power 
 
 By my slaughter, by my gore. 
 CHOR. Reverenced, reverenced mother, now 
 
 Thus for thee our tears shall flow : 
 
 For unhallowed would a tear 
 
 'Midst the solemn rites appear. 
 IPH. Swell the notes, ye virgin train, 
 
 To Diana swell the strain, 
 
 Queen of Chalcis, adverse land, 
 
 Queen of Aulis, on whose strand, 
 
 Winding to a narrow bay, 
 
 Fierce to take its angry way 
 
 Waits the war, and calls on me 
 
 Its retarded force to free. 
 
 O my country, where these eyes 
 
 Opened on Pelasgic skies ! 
 
 O ye virgins, once my pride, 
 
 In Mycenae who reside ! 
 CHOR. Why of Perseus name the town, 
 
 Which Cyclopean rampires crown ? 
 IPH. Me you reared a beam of light : 
 
 Freely now I sink in night. 
 CHOR. And for this immortal fame, 
 
 Virgin, shall attend thy name. 
 IPH. Ah, thou beaming lamp of day, 
 
 Jove-born, bright, ethereal ray, 
 
 Other regions me await, 
 
 Other life, and other fate !
 
 IPHIGENIA IN AULIS. 195 
 
 Farewell, beauteous lamp of day, 
 
 Farewell, bright ethereal ray ! 
 CHOR. See, she goes : her glorious fate 
 
 To o'erturn the Phrygian state ; 
 
 Soon the wreaths shall bind her brow ; 
 
 Soon the lustral waters flow ; 
 
 Soon that beauteous neck shall feel 
 
 Piercing deep the fatal steel, 
 
 And the ruthless altar o'er 
 
 Sprinkle drops of gushing gore. 
 
 By thy father's dread command 
 
 There the cleansing lavers stand ; 
 
 There in arms the Grecian powers 
 
 Burn to march 'gainst Ilium's towers. 
 
 But our voices let us raise, 
 
 Tuned to hymn Diana's praise, 
 
 Virgin daughter she of Jove, 
 
 Queen among the gods above. 
 
 That with conquest and renown 
 
 She the arms of Greece may crown. 
 
 To thee, dread power, we make our vows, 
 Pleased when the blood of human victims flows. 
 
 To Phrygia's hostile strand, 
 Where rise perfidious Ilium's hated towers, 
 
 Waft, O waft the Grecian powers, 
 And aid this martial band ! 
 
 On Agamemnon's honoured head, 
 Whilst wide the spears of Greece their terrors spread, 
 
 Th' immortal crown let conquest place, 
 With glory's brightest grace. 
 
 MESSENGER, CLYTEMNESTRA, CHORUS. 
 
 MESS. O royal Clytemnestra, from the house 
 Hither advance, that thou mayst hear my words. 
 
 CLYT. Hearing thy voice I come, but with affright 
 And terror trembling, lest thy coming bring 
 Tidings of other woes, beyond what now 
 Afflict me. 
 
 MESS. Of thy daughter have I things 
 Astonishing and awful to relate. 
 
 02
 
 196 EURIPIDES. 
 
 CLYT. Delay not then, but speak them instantly. 
 
 MESS. Yes, honoured lady, thou shalt hear them all 
 Distinct from first to last, if that my sense 
 Disordered be not faithless to my tongue. 
 When to Diana's grove and flow'ry meads 
 We came, where stood th' assembled host of Greece, 
 Leading thy daughter, straight in close array 
 Was formed the band of Argives ; but the chief 
 Imperial Agamemnon, when he saw 
 His daughter as a victim to the grove 
 Advancing, groaned, and bursting into tears 
 Turned from the sight his head, before his eyes 
 Holding his robe. The virgin near him stood, 
 And thus addressed him : " Father, I to thee 
 Am present : for my country, and for all 
 The land of Greece, I freely give myself 
 A victim : to the altar let them lead me, 
 Since such the oracle. If aught on me 
 Depends, be happy, and attain the prize 
 Of glorious conquest, and revisit safe 
 Your country : of the Grecians for this cause 
 Let no one touch me ; with intrepid spirit 
 Silent will I present my neck.'' She spoke, 
 And all that heard admired the noble soul 
 And virtue of the virgin. In the midst 
 Talthybius standing, such his charge, proclaimed 
 Silence to all the host : and Chalcas now, 
 The prophet, in the golden basket placed 
 Drawn from its sheath the sharp-edged sword, and bound 
 The sacred garlands round the virgin's head. 
 The son of Peleus, holding in his hands 
 The basket and the laver, circled round 
 The altar of the goddess, and thus spoke : 
 " Daughter of Jove, Diana, in the chase 
 Of savage beasts delighting, through the night 
 Who rollest thy resplendent orb, accept 
 This victim, which th' associate troops of Greece, 
 And Agamemnon, our imperial chief. 
 Present to thee, the unpolluted blood
 
 IPHIGENIA IN AULIS. 197 
 
 Now from this beauteous virgin's neck to flow. 
 
 Grant that secure our fleets may plough the main, 
 
 And that our arms may lay the rampired walls 
 
 Of Troy in dust." The sons of Atreus stood, 
 
 And all the host fixed on the ground their eyes. 
 
 The priest then took the sword, preferred his prayer, 
 
 And with his eye marked where to give the blow. 
 
 My heart with grief sunk in me, on the earth 
 
 Mine eyes were cast ; when sudden to the view 
 
 A wonder ! For the stroke each clearly heard, 
 
 But where the virgin was none knew. Aloud 
 
 The priest exclaims, and all the host with shouts 
 
 Rifted the air, beholding from some god 
 
 A prodigy, which struck their wond'ring eyes, 
 
 Surpassing faith when seen : for on the ground 
 
 Panting was laid a hind of largest bulk, 
 
 In form excelling ; with its spouting blood 
 
 Much was the altar of the goddess dewed. 
 
 Calchas at this, think with what joy, exclaimed : 
 
 " Ye leaders of th' united host of Greece, 
 
 See you this victim, by the goddess brought, 
 
 And at her altar laid, a mountain hind ? 
 
 This, rather than the virgin, she accepts, ' . 
 
 Not with the rich stream of her noble blood 
 
 To stain the altar ; this she hath received 
 
 Of her free grace, and gives a fav'ring gale 
 
 To swell our sails, and bear th' invading war 
 
 To Iliurn : therefore rouse, ye naval train, 
 
 Your courage. To your ships ! for we this day, 
 
 Leaving the deep recesses of this shore, 
 
 Must pass th' yEgean sea." Soon as the flames 
 
 The victim had consumed, he poured a prayer, 
 
 That o'er the waves the host might plough their way. 
 
 Me Agamemnon sends, that I should bear 
 
 To thee these tidings, and declare what fate 
 
 The gods assign him, and through Greece t' obtain 
 
 Immortal glory. What I now relate 
 
 I saw, for I was present ; to the gods 
 
 Thy daughter, be thou well assured, is fled.
 
 198 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Therefore lament no more, no more retain 
 
 Thy anger 'gainst thy lord : to mortal men 
 
 Things unexpected oft the gods dispense, 
 
 And whom they love they save : this day hath seen 
 
 Thy daughter dead, seen her alive again. 
 
 CHOR. His tidings with what transport do I hear ! 
 Thy daughter lives, and lives among the gods. 
 
 CLYT. And have the gods, my daughter, borne thee hence ? 
 How then shall I address thee ? Or of this 
 How deem i Vain words, perchance, to comfort me 
 And soothe to peace the anguish of my soul. 
 
 MESS. But Agamemnon comes, and will confirm 
 Each circumstance which thou hast heard from me. 
 
 AGAM. Lady, we have much cause to think ourselves, 
 Touching our daughter, blest : for 'mongst the gods 
 Commercing she in truth resides. But thee 
 Behoves it with thine infant son return 
 To Argos, for the troops with ardour haste 
 To sail. And now farewell ! My greetings to thee 
 From Troy will be unfrequent, and at times 
 Of distant interval : mayst thou be blest ! 
 
 CHOR. With joy, Atrides, reach the Phrygian shore ; 
 With joy return to Greece, and bring with thee 
 Bright conquest, and the glorious spoils of Troy !
 
 IPHIGENIA IN TAURIS. 
 
 THE reader will doubtless be pleased at renewing his acquaint- 
 ance with the amiable but unhappy Iphigenia : from the altar 
 of Diana at Aulis she was removed by that goddess to her 
 temple in the Tauric Chersonese, a great Peninsula in the Black 
 Sea on the Maeotic Lake, now called Crim Tartary, where she 
 presided as priestess over the cruel and bloody rites there 
 established. 
 
 Diodorus Siculus, lib. iv., informs us, " that it was the custom 
 of the Barbarians who inhabited that country to sacrifice such 
 strangers as were driven on that shore to the Tauric Diana. 
 Iphigenia, they say, was in after times appointed the priestess 
 of this goddess, and sacrificed such strangers as were taken. 
 In tracing the history of these sacrifices we find that the Sun 
 was father of ^etes and Perses : jEetes reigned at Colchis, 
 Perses in the Tauric Chersonese, both remarkable for their 
 savage cruelty. Hecate was the daughter of Perses, and 
 exceeded her father in daring and atrocious actions : she took 
 great delight in hunting, and when she failed of success in the 
 chase, transfixed men with her arrows, instead of beasts. She 
 was fond of preparing compositions of a poisonous nature, to 
 try the force of which she mixed them with the food given to 
 strangers. Having acquired great experience in these things, 
 she destroyed her father with poison, and took possession of 
 his kingdom : she then built the temple of Diana, and appointed 
 that the strangers who arrived there should be sacrificed to 
 the goddess : hence her name became terrible for her barbarity. 
 She afterwards married yetes, and was by him the mother of
 
 200 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Circe and Medea." Iphigenia had for some years, reluctantly 
 indeed, but through necessity, presided over these inhuman 
 rites, when Orestes, with his friend Pylades, arrived on this 
 inhospitable coast, in obedience to the oracle of Apollo : they 
 were seized, and carried to the king, who sent them in chains 
 to the priestess as victims to the goddess : their death now 
 seemed inevitable. The drama is conducted with exquisite skill, 
 and the circumstances arise out of each other so naturally, that, 
 as P. Brumoy well observes, the piece has such an air of truth, 
 that the spectator is persuaded that the event really passed as 
 it is presented to him, and that it could not have passed in any 
 other manner. 
 
 The translator feels himself in a very unpleasant situation 
 with regard to this tragedy : the justly approved translation of 
 the late excellent Mr. West rendered his attempt unnecessary : 
 he had no ambition to rival that gentleman, nor has he the 
 vanity to hope for any superiority in the execution of the work : 
 but the respect due to his subscribers and to the public obliged 
 him to present them with all the tragedies of Euripides, though 
 at the hazard of his reputation in this particular instance, where 
 non vinci ppimus est triumphus. 
 
 The scene is in the Court of the Temple of Diana. 
 
 IPHIGENIA. 
 
 ORESTES. 
 
 PYLADES. 
 
 THOAS. 
 
 HERDSMAN. 
 
 PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. 
 MESSENGER. 
 
 CHORUS OF GRECIAN WOMEN, 
 CAPTIVES, ATTENDANTS ON 
 IPHIGENIA IN THE TEMPLE. 
 
 IPHIGENIA. 
 
 To Pisa by the fleetest coursers borne 
 Comes Pelops, son of Tantalus, and weds 
 The virgin daughter of CEnomaus : 
 From her sprung Atreus ; Menelaus from him,
 
 IPHIGENIA IN TAURIS. 201 
 
 And Agamemnon ; I from him derive 
 
 My birth, his Iphigenia, by his queen 
 
 Daughter of Tyndarus. Where frequent winds 
 
 Swell the vext Euripus with eddying blasts, 
 
 And roll the dark'ning waves, my father slew me 
 
 A victim to Diana, so he thought, 
 
 For Helen's sake, its bay where Aulis \vinds 
 
 To fame well known, for there his thousand ships, 
 
 Th' armament of Greece, th' imperial chief 
 
 Convened, desirous that his Greeks should snatch 
 
 The glorious crown of victory from Troy, 
 
 And punish the base insult to the bed 
 
 Of Helen, vengeance grateful to the soul 
 
 Of Menelaus. But 'gainst his ships the sea 
 
 Long barred, and not one fav'ring breeze to swell 
 
 His flagging sails, the hallowed flames the chief 
 
 Consults, and Calchas thus disclosed the fates : 
 
 " Imperial leader of the Grecian host, 
 
 Hence shall thou not unmoor thy vessels ere 
 
 Diana as a victim shall receive 
 
 Thy daughter Iphigenia. What the year 
 
 Most beauteous should produce, thou to the queen 
 
 Dispensing light didst vow to sacrifice : 
 
 A daughter Clytemnestra in thy house 
 
 Then bore (the peerless grace of beauty thus 
 
 To me assigning) : her must thou devote 
 
 The victim." Then Ulysses by his arts 
 
 Me, to Achilles as designed a bride, 
 
 Won from my mother. My unhnppy fate 
 
 To Aulis brought me ; on the altar there 
 
 High was I placed, and o'er me gleamed the sword 
 
 Aiming the fatal wound : but from the stroke 
 
 Diana snatched me, in exchange a hind 
 
 Giving the Grecians ; through the lucid air 
 
 Me she conveyed to Tauris, here to dwell, 
 
 Where o'er barbarians a barbaric king 
 
 Holds his rude sway, named Thoas, whose swift foot 
 
 Equals the rapid wing : me he appoints 
 
 The priestess of this temple, where such rites
 
 202 EURIPIDES.- 
 
 Are pleasing to Diana, that the name 
 
 Alone claims honour ; for I sacrifice 
 
 (Such, ere I came, the custom of the state) 
 
 Whatever Grecian to this savage shore 
 
 Is driven. The previous rites are mine ; the deed 
 
 Of blood, too horrid to be told, devolves 
 
 On others in the temple ; but the rest, 
 
 In reverence to the goddess, I forbear. 
 
 But the strange visions, which the night now past 
 
 Brought with it, to the air, if that may soothe 
 
 My troubled thought, I will relate. I seemed, 
 
 As I lay sleeping, from this land removed 
 
 To dwell at Argos, resting on my couch 
 
 'Midst the apartments of the virgin train. 
 
 Sudden the firm earth shook ; I fled, and stood 
 
 Without ; the battlements I saw, and all 
 
 The rocking roof fall from its lofty height 
 
 In ruins to the ground ; of all the house, 
 
 My father's house, one pillar, as I thought, 
 
 Alone was left, which from its cornice waved 
 
 A length of auburn-locks, and human voice 
 
 Assumed. The bloody office, which is mine 
 
 To strangers here, respecting, I to death, 
 
 Sprinkling the lustra! drops, devoted it 
 
 With many tears. My dream I thus expound. 
 
 Orestes, whom I hallowed by my rites, 
 
 Is dead : for sons are pillars of the house, 
 
 They, whom ,mytlustraJLlavers sprinkle, die. 
 
 I cannot to my friends apply my dream, 
 
 For Strophius, when I perished, had no son. 
 
 Now to my brother, absent though he be, 
 
 Libations will I offer ; this at least, 
 
 With the attendants given me by the king, 
 
 Virgins of Greece, I can : but what the cause 
 
 They yet attend me not within the house, 
 
 The temple of the goddess where I dwell ?
 
 IPHIGEN1A IN TA URIS. 203 
 
 ORESTES, PYLADES. 
 
 ORES. Keep careful watch, lest some one come this way. 
 
 PYL. I watch, and turn mine eye to every part. 
 
 ORES. And dost thou, Pylades, imagine this 
 The temple of the goddess which we seek, 
 Our sails from Argos sweeping o'er the main ? 
 
 PYL. Orestes, such my thought, and must be thine. 
 
 ORES. And this the altar wet with Grecian blood ? 
 
 PYL. Crimsoned with gore behold its sculptured wreaths. 
 
 ORES. See, from the battlements what trophies hang ! 
 
 PYL. The spoils of strangers that have here been slain. 
 
 ORES. Behoves us then to watch with careful eye. 
 O Phoebus, by thy oracles again 
 Why hast thou led me to these toils ? E'er since 
 In vengeance for my lather's blood I slew 
 My mother, ceaseless by the Furies driven, 
 Vagrant, an outcast, many a bending course 
 My feet have trod : to thee I came, of thee 
 Inquired this whirling frenzy by what means, 
 And by what means my labours I might end. 
 Thy voice commanded me to speed my course 
 To this wild coast of Tauris, where a shrine 
 Thy sister hath, Diana; thence To tate 
 The statue of the goddess, which from heaven, 
 So say the natives, to this temple fell : 
 This image or by fraud or fortune won, 
 The dangerous toil achieved, to place the prize 
 In the Athenian land : no more was said j 
 But that performing this I should obtain 
 Rest from my toils. Obedient to thy words 
 On this unknown, unhospitable coast 
 Am I arrived. Now, Pylades, for thou 
 Art my associate in this dangerous task, 
 Of thee I ask, What shall we do ? for high 
 The walls, thou seest, which fence the temple round : 
 Shall we ascend their height ? But how escape 
 Observing eyes ? Or burst the brazen bars ? 
 Of these we nothing know. In the attempt
 
 204 EURIPIDES. 
 
 To force the gates, or meditating means 
 
 To enter, if detected, we shall die. 
 
 Shall we then, ere we die, by flight regain 
 
 The ship, in which we hither ploughed the sea ? 
 
 PYL. Of flight we brook no thought, nor such hath been 
 Our wont ; nor may the god's commanding voice 
 Be disobeyed : but from the temple now 
 Retiring, in some cave, which the black sea 
 Beats with its billows, we may lie concealed 
 At distance from our bark, lest some, whose eyes 
 May note it, bear the tidings to the king, 
 And we be seized by force. But when the eye 
 Of night comes darkling on, then must we dare, 
 And take the polished image from the shrine, 
 Attempting all things : and the vacant space 
 Between the triglyphs, mark it well, enough 
 Is open to admit us ; by that way 
 Attempt we to descend. In toils the brave 
 Are daring ; of no worth the abject soul. 
 
 ORES. This length of sea we ploughed not from this coast, 
 Nothing effected, to return : but well 
 Hast thou advised ; the god must be obeyed. 
 Retire we then where we may lie concealed : 
 For never from the god will come the cause 
 That what his sacred voice commands should fall 
 Effectless. We must dare. No toil to youth 
 Excuse, which justifies inaction, brings. 
 
 IPHIGENIA, CHORUS. 
 
 IPH. You, who your savage dwellings hold 
 
 Nigh this inhospitable main, 
 'Gainst clashing rocks with fury rolled, 
 
 From all but hallowed words abstain. 
 Virgin queen, Latona's grace, 
 Joying in the mountain chase, 
 To thy court, thy rich domain, 
 To thy beauteous-pillared fane, 
 Where our wond'ring eyes behold 
 Battlements that blaze with gold,
 
 1PHIGENIA IN TAURIS. 205 
 
 Thus my virgin steps I bend, 
 
 Holy, the holy to attend, 
 
 Servant, virgin queen, to thee, 
 
 Power, who bearst life's golden key, 
 
 Far from Greece for steeds renowned, 
 
 From her walls with towers crowned, 
 
 From the beauteous-planted meads 
 
 Where his train Eurotas leads, 
 
 Visiting the loved retreats 
 
 Once my royal father's seats. 
 CHOR. I come. What cares disturb thy rest ? 
 
 Why hast thou brought me to the shrine ? 
 Doth some fresh grief afflict thy breast ? 
 
 Why bring me to this seat divine ? 
 Thou daughter of that chief, whose powers 
 
 Ploughed with a thousand keels the strand, 
 And ranged in arms shook Troy's proud towers 
 
 Beneath th' Atridje's great command ! 
 I PH. O ye attendant train, 
 
 How is my heart oppressed with woe ! 
 
 What notes, save notes of grief, can flow, 
 
 A harsh and unmelodious strain ? 
 
 My soul domestic ills oppress with dread, 
 
 And bid me mourn a brother dead. 
 
 What visions did my sleeping sense appal 
 
 In the past dark and midnight hour? 
 
 'Tis ruin, ruin all. 
 
 My father's house it is no more ; 
 
 No more is his illustrious line. 
 
 What dreadful deeds hath Argos known ! 
 
 One only brother, Fate, was mine ; 
 
 And dost thou rend him from me ? Is he gone 
 
 To Pluto's dreary realms below ? 
 
 For him, as dead, with pious care 
 
 This goblet I prepare ; 
 
 And on the bosom of the earth shall flow 
 
 Streams from the heifer mountain-bred, 
 
 The grape's rich juice, and mixed with these 
 
 The labour of the yellow bees, 
 
 Libations soothing to the dead.
 
 206 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Give me th' oblation ; let me hold 
 The foaming goblet's hallowed gold. 
 
 thou, the earth beneath, 
 
 Who didst from Agamemnon spring, 
 To thee deprived of vital breath 
 
 1 these libations bring. 
 
 Accept them : to thy honoured tomb 
 Never, ah ! never shall I come ; 
 Never these golden tresses bear 
 To place them there, there shed the tear : 
 For from my country far, a hind 
 There deemed as slain, my wild abode I find. 
 . CHOR. To thee thy faithful train 
 The Asiatic hymn will raise, 
 A doleful, a barbaric strain, 
 Responsive to thy lays, 
 And steep in tears the mournful song, 
 Notes which to the dead belong, 
 Dismal notes attuned to woe 
 By Pluto in the realms below : 
 No sprightly air shall we employ 
 To cheer the soul, and wake the sense of joy. 
 
 IPH. Th' Atridas are no more : 
 Extinct their sceptre's golden light ; 
 My father's house from its proud height 
 Is fall'n : its ruins I deplore. 
 Who of her kings at Argos holds his reign, 
 Her kings once blest ? But Sorrow's train 
 Rolls on impetuous for the rapid steeds 
 Which o'er the strand with Pelops fly. 
 From what atrocious deeds 
 Starts the sun back, his sacred eye 
 Of brightness, loathing, turned aside ? 
 And fatal to their house arose 
 From the rich Ram, Thessalia's golden pride, 
 Slaughter on slaughter, woes on woes. 
 Thence from the dead of ages past 
 Vengeance came rushing on its prey,
 
 IPHIGENIA IN T A UK IS. 207 
 
 And swept the race of Tantalus away : 
 
 Fatal to thee its ruthless haste ; 
 
 To me too fatal from the hour 
 
 My mother wedded, from the night 
 
 She gave me to life's opening light, 
 
 Nursed by affliction's cruel power. 
 
 Early to me the fates unkind 
 
 To know what sorrow is assigned ; 
 
 Me, Leda's daughter, hapless dame, 
 
 First blooming offspring of her bed 
 
 (A father's conduct here I blame), 
 
 A joyless victim bred ; 
 
 When o'er the strand of Aulis, in the pride 
 
 Of beauty kindling flames of love, 
 
 High on my splendid car I move, 
 
 Betrothed to Thetis' son a bride : 
 
 Ah hapless bride, to all the train 
 
 Of Grecian fair preferred in vain ! 
 
 But now a stranger on this strand. 
 
 'Gainst which the wild waves beat, 
 
 I hold my dreary, joyless seat, 
 
 Far distant from my native land ; 
 
 Nor nuptial bed is mine, nor child, nor friend. 
 
 At Argos now no more I raise 
 
 The festal song in Juno's praise ; 
 
 Nor o'er the loom sweet-sounding bend, 
 
 As the creative shuttle flies, 
 
 Give forms of Titans fierce to rise, 
 
 And dreadful with her purple spear 
 
 Image Athenian Pallas there. 
 
 But on this barb'rous shore 
 
 Th' unhappy stranger's fate I moan, 
 
 The ruthless altar stained with gore, 
 
 His deep and dying groan : 
 
 And for each tear that weeps his woes, 
 
 From me a tear of pity flows. 
 
 Of these the sad remembrance now must sleep : 
 
 A brother dead, ah me ! I weep : 
 
 At Argos him by fate opprest
 
 208 EURIPIDES. 
 
 I left an infant at the breast. 
 A beauteous bud, whose opening charms 
 Then blossomed in his mother's arms, 
 Orestes, born to high command, 
 Th' imperial sceptre of the Argive land. 
 CHOR. Leaving the sea-washed shore a herdsman comes 
 Speeding, with some fresh tidings to thee fraught. 
 
 HERDSMAN, IPHIGENIA, CHORUS. 
 
 HERD. Daughter of Agamemnon, and bright gem 
 Of Clytemnestra, hear strange things from me. 
 
 IPH. And what of terror doth thy tale import ? 
 
 HERD. Two youths, swift-rowing 'twixt the clashing rocks 
 Of our wild sea, are landed on the beach ; 
 A grateful offering at Diana's shrine, 
 And victims to the goddess. Haste, prepare 
 The sacred lavers and the previous rites. 
 
 IPH. Whence are the strangers ? from what country named? 
 
 HERD. From Greece : this only, nothing more, I know. 
 
 IPH. Didst thou not hear what names the strangers bear? 
 
 HERD. One by the other was called Pylades. 
 
 IPH. How is the stranger, his companion, named ? 
 
 HERD. This none of us can tell : we heard it not. 
 
 IPH. How saw you them ? how seized them? by what chance ? 
 
 HERD. 'Midst the rude cliffs that o'er the Euxine hang 
 
 IPH. And what concern have herdsmen with the sea ? 
 
 HERD. To wash our herds in the salt wave we came. 
 
 IPH. To what I asked return : how seized you them ? 
 Tell me the manner ; this I wish to know. 
 For slow the victims come, nor hath some while 
 The altar of the goddess, as was wont, 
 Been crimsoned with the streams of Grecian blood. 
 
 HERD. Our herds, which in the forests feed, we drove 
 Amidst the tide that rushes to the shore 
 'Twixt the Symplegades : it was the place 
 Where in the rifted rock the chafing surge 
 Hath hollowed a rude cave, the haunt of those 
 Whose quest is purple. Of our number there 
 A herdsman saw two youths, and back returned
 
 IPH1GENIA IN TAURIS. 209 
 
 With soft and silent step ; then pointing said, 
 
 <* Do you not see them ? These are deities 
 
 That sit there." One, who with religious awe 
 
 Revered the gods, with hands uplifted prayed, 
 
 His eyes fixed on them: " Son of the sea-nymph 
 
 Leucothoe, guardian of the lab'ring bark, 
 
 Our Lord Palaemon, be propitious to us ! 
 
 Or sit you on our shores, bright sons of Jove, 
 
 Castor and Pollux ! Or the glorious boast 
 
 Of Nereus, father of the noble choir 
 
 Of fifty Nereids ?" One, whose untaught mind 
 
 Audacious folly hardened 'gainst the sense 
 
 Of holy awe, scoffed at his prayers, and said: 
 
 "These are wrecked mariners, that take their seat 
 
 In the cleft rock through fear, as they have heard 
 
 Our prescribed rite, that here we sacrifice 
 
 The stranger." To the greater part he seemed 
 
 Well to have spoken, and we judged it meet 
 
 To seize the victims, by our country's law 
 
 Due to the goddess. Of the stranger youths 
 
 One at this instant started from the rock ; 
 
 Awhile he stood, and wildly tossed his head, 
 
 And groaned, his loose arms trembling all their length, 
 
 Convulsed with madness : as a hunter loud 
 
 Then cried : " Dost thou behold her, Pylades, 
 
 Dost thou not see this dragon fierce from hell 
 
 Rushing to kill me, and against me rousing 
 
 Her horrid vipers ? See this other here, 
 
 Emitting fire and slaughter from her vests, 
 
 Sails on her wings, my mother in her arms 
 
 Bearing, to hurl this mass of rock upon me ! 
 
 Ah, she will kill me ! Whither shall I fly ? " 
 
 His visage might we see no more the same, 
 
 And his voice varied, now the roar of bulls, 
 
 The howl of dogs now uttering, mimic sounds 
 
 Sent by the madd'ning Furies, as they say. 
 
 Together thronging, as of death assured, 
 
 We sit in silence : but he drew his sword, 
 
 And like a lion rushing 'midst our herds
 
 2io EURIPIDES. 
 
 Plunged in their sides the weapon, weening thus 
 
 To drive the Furies, till the briny wave 
 
 Foamed with their blood. But when among our h^rds 
 
 We saw this havoc made, we all 'gan rouse 
 
 To arms, and blew our sounding shells t' alarm 
 
 The neighb'ring peasants j for we thought in fight 
 
 Rude herdsmen to these youthful strangers, trained 
 
 To arms, ill matched ; and forthwith to our aid 
 
 Flocked numbers. But, his frenzy of its force 
 
 Abating, on the earth the stranger falls, 
 
 Foam bursting from his mouth ? But when we saw 
 
 Th' advantage, each adventured on, and hurled 
 
 What might annoy him fall'n : the other youth 
 
 Wiped off the foam, took of his person care, 
 
 His fine-wrought robe spread over him, with heed 
 
 The flying stones observing warded off 
 
 The wounds, and each kind office to his friend 
 
 Attentively performed. His sense returned, 
 
 The stranger started up, and soon perceived 
 
 The tide of foes that rolled impetuous on, 
 
 The danger and distress that closed them round. 
 
 He heaved a sigh An unremitting storm 
 
 Of stones we poured, and each incited each. 
 
 Then we his dreadful exhortation heard : 
 
 " Pylades, we shall die ; but let us die 
 
 With glory ; draw thy sword, and follow me." 
 
 But when we saw the enemies advance 
 
 With brandished swords, the steep heights crowned with wood, 
 
 We fill in flight : but others, if one flies, 
 
 Press on them ; if again they drive these back, 
 
 What before fled turns, with a storm of stones 
 
 Assaulting them ; but, what exceeds belief, 
 
 Hurled by a thousand hands not one could hit 
 
 The victims of the goddess : scarce at length, 
 
 Not by brave daring seized we them, but 'round 
 
 We closed upon them, and their swords with stones 
 
 Beat, wily, from their hands, for on their knees 
 
 They through fatigue had sunk upon the ground. 
 
 We bare them to the monarch of this land :
 
 IPHIGENIA IN TAURIS. 211 
 
 He viewed them, and without delay to thee 
 Sent them, devoted to the cleansing vase 
 And to the altar. Victims such as these, 
 O virgin, wish to find ; for if such youths 
 Thou offer, for thy slaughter Greece will pay, 
 Her wrongs fo thee at Aulis well avenged. 
 
 CHOR. These things are wonderful, which thou hast told 
 Of him, whoe'er he be, the youth from Greece 
 Arrived on this unhospitable shore. 
 
 I PH. 'Tis well. Go thou, and bring the strangers hither. 
 What here is to be done shall be our care. 
 
 my unhappy heart ! before this hour 
 
 To strangers thou wast gentle, always touched 
 With pity, and with tears their tears repaid, 
 When Grecians, natives of my country, came 
 Into my hands : but from the dreams, which prompt 
 To deeds ungentle, showing that no more 
 Orestes views the sun's fair light, whoe'er 
 Ye are that hither come, me will you find 
 Relentless now. This is the truth, my friends : 
 My heart is rent ; and never will the wretch, 
 Who feels affliction's cruel tortures, bear 
 Goodwill to those that are more fortunate. 
 Never came gale from Jove, nor flying bark, 
 Which 'twixt the dang'rous rocks of th' Euxine sea 
 Brought Helen hither, who my ruin wrought, 
 Nor Menelaus ; that on them my foul wrongs 
 
 1 might repay, and with an Aulis here 
 Requite the Aulis there, where I was seized, 
 And, as a heifer, by the Grecians slain. 
 
 My father too, who gave me birth, was priest. 
 Ah me ! the sad remembrance of those ills 
 Yet lives : how often did I stroke thy cheek, 
 And, hanging on thy knees, address thee thus : 
 Alas, my father ! I by thee am led 
 A bride to bridal rites unblest and base : 
 Them, whilst by thee I bleed, my mother hymns, 
 And th' Argive dames, with hymeneal strains, 
 And with the jocund pipe the house resounds :
 
 212 EURIPIDES. 
 
 But at the altar I by thee am slain ; 
 
 For Pluto was th' Achilles, not the son 
 
 Of Peleus, whom to me thou didst announce 
 
 Th' affianced bridegroom, and by guile didst bring 
 
 To bloody nuptials in the rolling car. 
 
 But, o'er mine eyes the veil's fine texture spread, 
 
 This brother in my hands, who now is lost, 
 
 I clasped not, though his sister, did not press 
 
 My lips to his through virgin modesty, 
 
 As going to the house of Peleus : then 
 
 Each fond embrace I to another time 
 
 Deferred, as soon to Argos to return. 
 
 If, O unhappy brother, thou art dead, 
 
 From what a state, thy father's envied height 
 
 Of glory, loved Orestes, art thou torn ! 
 
 These false rules of the goddess much I blame : 
 
 Whoe'er of mortals is with slaughter stained, 
 
 Or hath at childbirth given assisting hands, 
 
 Or chanced to touch aught dead, she as impure 
 
 Drives from her altars ; yet herself delights 
 
 In human victims bleeding at her shrine. 
 
 Ne'er did Latona, from th' embrace of Jove, 
 
 Bring forth such inconsistence : I then deem 
 
 The feast of Tantalus, where gods were guests, 
 
 Unworthy of b-lief, as that they fed 
 
 On his son's flesh delighted : and I think 
 
 These people, who themselves have a wild joy 
 
 In shedding human blood, their savage guilt 
 
 Charge on the goddess : for this truth I hold, 
 
 None of the gods is evil or doth wrong. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 Strophe i. 
 
 Ye rocks, ye clashing rocks, whose brow 
 Frowns o'er the darkened deeps below, 
 Whose wild inhospitable wave, 
 From Argos flying and her native spring, 
 The virgin once was known to brave, 
 Tormented with the Bryze's madd'ning sting,
 
 IPHIGEN1A IN TAUR1S. 213 
 
 From Europe when the rude sea o'er 
 
 She passed to Asia's adverse shore ; 
 Who are these hapless youths, that dare to land, 
 
 Leaving those soft irriguous meads, 
 
 Where, his green margin fringed with reeds, 
 
 Eurotas rolls his ample tide, 
 
 Or Dirce's hallowed waters glide, 
 And touch this barb'rous, stranger-hating strand, 
 
 The altars where a virgin dews, 
 
 And blood the pillared shrine imbrues ? 
 
 Strophe 2. 
 
 Did they with oars impetuous sweep, 
 
 Rank answering rank, the foamy deep, 
 
 And wing their bark with flying sails, 
 To raise their humble fortune their desire, 
 
 Eager to catch the rising gales, 
 
 Their bosoms with the love of gain on fire ? 
 
 For sweet is Hope, to man's fond breast, 
 
 The hope of gain, insatiate guest, 
 Though on her oft attends Misfortune's train ; 
 
 For daring man she tempts to brave 
 
 The dangers of the boist'rous wave, 
 
 And leads him heedless of his fate 
 
 Through many a distant, barb'rous state ; 
 Vain his opinions, his pursuits are vain ! 
 
 Boundless o'er some her power is shown, 
 
 But some her temp'rate influence own. 
 
 Antistrophe i. 
 
 How did they pass the dang'rous rocks, 
 Clashing with rude, tremendous shocks ? 
 How pass the savage-howling shore 
 
 Where once th' unhappy Phineus held his reign, 
 And sleep affrighted flies its roar, 
 
 Steering their rough course o'er this boist'rous main, 
 Formed in a ring beneath whose waves 
 The Nereid train in high-arched caves
 
 214 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Weave the light dance, and raise the sprightly song, 
 Whilst whisp'ring in their swelling sails 
 Soft Zephyrs breathe, or southern gales 
 Piping amidst their tackling play, 
 As their bark ploughs its wat'ry way 
 
 Those hoary cliffs, the haunts of birds, along, 
 To that wild strand, the rapid race 
 Where once Achilles deigned to grace ? 
 
 Antistrophe i. 
 
 Oh that from Troy some chance would bear 
 
 Leda's loved daughter, fatal fair 
 
 (The royal virgin's vows are mine), 
 That her bright tresses rolled in crimson dew, 
 
 Her warm blood flowing at this shrine, 
 The altar of the goddess might imbrue, 
 
 And Vengeance, righteous to repay 
 
 Her former mischiefs, seize her prey ! 
 But with what rapture should I hear his voice, 
 
 If one this shore should reach from Greece, 
 
 And bid the toils of slav'ry cease ! 
 
 Or might I in the hour of rest 
 
 With pleasing dreams of Greece be blest, 
 So in my house, my native land rejoice". 
 
 In sleep enjoy the pleasing strain 
 
 For happiness restored again ! 
 
 I PH. But the two youths, their handa fast bound in chains, 
 The late-seized victims to the goddess, come. 
 Silence, my friends : for destined at the shrine 
 To bleed the Grecian strangers near approach, 
 And no false tidings did the herdsman bring. 
 
 CHOR. Goddess revered, if grateful to thy soul 
 This state presents such sacrifice, accept 
 The victims, which the custom of this land 
 Gives thee, but deemed unholy by the Greeks.
 
 IPH1GENIA IN TAURIS. 215 
 
 IPHIGENIA, ORESTES, PYLADES, CHORUS. 
 
 IPH. No more ; that to the goddess each due rite 
 Be well performed shall be my care. Unchain 
 The strangers' hands, that, hallowed as they are, 
 They may no more be bound. Go you, prepare 
 Within the temple what the rites require. 
 Unhappy youths, what mother brought you forth ? 
 Your father who ? Your sister, if perchance 
 Ye have a sister, of what youths deprived ? 
 For brother she shall have no more. Who knows 
 Whom such misfortunes may attend ? For dark 
 What the gods will creeps on ; and none can tell 
 The ills to come : this fortune from the sight 
 Obscures. But, O unhappy strnngers, say 
 Whence came you ? Sailed you long since for this land? 
 But long will be your absence from your homes, 
 For ever, in the dreary realms below. 
 
 ORES. Lady, whoe'er thou art, why for these things 
 Dost thou lament ? Why mourn for ills, which soon 
 Will fall on us ? Him I esteem unwise, 
 W T ho, when he sees death near, tries to o'ercome 
 Its terrors with bewailings, without hope 
 Of safety : ill he adds to ill, and makes 
 His folly known, yet dies. We must give way 
 To fortune : therefore mourn not thou for us : 
 We know, we are acquainted with your rites. 
 
 IPH. Which of you by the name of Pylades 
 Is called ? This first it is my wish to know. 
 
 ORES. If aught of pleasure that may give thee, he. 
 
 IPH. A native of what Grecian state, declare. 
 
 ORES. What profit, knowing this, wouldst thou obtain ? 
 
 IPH. And are you brothers, of one mother born? 
 
 ORES. Brothers by friendship, lady, not by birth. 
 
 IPH. To thee what name was by thy father given? 
 
 ORES. With just cause I Unhappy might be called. 
 
 IPH. I ask not that ; to fortune that ascribe. 
 
 ORES. Dying unknown rude scoffs I shall avoid. 
 
 IPH. Wilt thou refuse ? Why are thy thoughts so high ?
 
 216 EURIPIDES. 
 
 ORES. My body thou mayst kill, but not my name. 
 
 IPH. Wilt thou not say a native of what state ? 
 
 ORES. The question nought avails, since I must die. 
 
 IPH. What hinders thee from granting me this grace ? 
 
 ORES. Th' illustrious Argos I my country boast. 
 
 IPH. By the gods, stranger, is thy birth from thence ? 
 
 ORES. My birth is from Mycenae, once the blest. 
 
 IPH. Dost thou an exile fly, or by what fate ? 
 
 ORES. Of my free will, in part not free, I fly. 
 
 IPH. Wilt thou then tell me what I wish to know? 
 
 ORES. Whate'er is foreign to my private griefs. 
 
 IPH. To my dear wish from Argos art thou come. 
 
 ORES. Not to my wish : but if to thine, enjoy it. 
 
 IPH. Troy, whose fame spreads so wide, perchance thou 
 
 knowst. 
 
 ORES. Oh that I ne'er had known her, e'en in dreams ! 
 IPH. They say she is no more, by war destroyed. 
 ORES. It is so : you have heard no false reports. 
 IPH. Is Helena with Menelaus returned? 
 ORES. She is : and one I love her coming rues. 
 IPH. Where is she ? Me too she of old hath wronged. 
 ORES. At Sparta with her former lord she dwells. 
 IPH. By Greece, and not by me alone, abhorred ! 
 ORES. I from her nuptials have my share of grief. 
 IPH. And are the Greeks, as fame reports, returned ? 
 ORES. How briefly all things dost thou ask at once ? 
 IPH. This favour, ere thou die, I wish t' obtain. 
 ORES. Ask then : since such thy wish, I will inform thee. 
 IPH. Calchas, a prophet, came he back from Troy ? 
 ORES. He perished : at Mycenae such the fame. 
 IPH. Goddess revered ! But doth Ulysses live ? 
 ORES. He lives they say ; but is not yet returned. 
 IPH. Perish the wretch, nor see his country more ! 
 ORES. Wish him not ill, for all with him is ill. 
 IPH. But doth the son of sea-born Thetis live? 
 ORES. He lives not : vain his nuptial rites at Aulis. 
 IPH. That all was fraud, as those, who felt it, say. 
 ORES. But who art thou, inquiring thus of Greece ? 
 IPH. I am from thence, in early youth undone.
 
 IPHIGENIA IN TAURIS. 217 
 
 ORES. Thou hast a right t' inquire what there hath passed. 
 I PH. What knowst thou of the chief, men call the blest ? 
 ORES. Who ? Of the blest was not the chief I knew. 
 IPH. The royal Agememnon, son of Atreus. 
 ORES. Of him I know not, lady ; cease to ask. 
 IPH. Nay, by the gods, tell me, and cheer my soul. 
 ORES. He's dead, th' unhappy chief; no single ill. 
 IPH. Dead ! By what adverse fate ? Oh wretched me ! 
 ORES. Why mourn for this ? How doth it touch thy breast ? 
 IPH. The glories of his former state I mourn. 
 ORES. Dreadfully murdered by a woman's hand. 
 IPH. How wretched she that slew him, he thus slain ! 
 ORES. Now then forbear : of him inquire no more. 
 IPH. This only ; lives th' unhappy monarch's wife? 
 ORES. She, lady, is no more, slain by her son. 
 IPH. Alas, the ruined house ! What his intent ? 
 ORES. T' avenge on her his noble father slain. 
 IPH. An ill, but righteous deed, how justly done ! 
 ORES. Though righteous, by the gods he is not blest. 
 IPH. Hath Agamemnon other offspring left ? 
 ORES. He left one virgin daughter, named Electra. 
 IPH. Of her, that died a victim, is aught said ? 
 ORES. This only, dead she sees the light no more. 
 IPH. Unhappy she ! the father too, who slew her ! 
 ORES. For a bad woman she unseemly died. 
 IPH. At Argos lives the murdered father's son ? 
 ORES. Nowhere he lives, poor wretch, and everywhere. 
 IPH. False dreams, farewell : for nothing you import. 
 ORES. Nor are those gods, that have .the name of wise. 
 Less false than fleeting dreams. In things divine, 
 And in things human, great confusion reigns. 
 One thing is left ; that, not unwise of soul, 
 Obedient to the prophet's voice he perished ; 
 For that he perished they, who know, report. 
 
 CHOR. What shall we know, what of our parents know ? 
 If yet they live, or not, who can inform us ? 
 
 IPH. Hear me: this converse prompts a thought, which 
 
 gives 
 Promise of good, ye youths of Greece, to you,
 
 2i8 EURIPIDES. 
 
 To these, and me ; thus may it well be done, 
 If willing to my purpose all assent. 
 Wilt thou, if I shall save thee, go for me 
 A messenger to Argos, to my friends 
 Charged with a letter, which a captive wrote, 
 Who pitied me, nor murd'rous thought my hand, 
 But that he died beneath the law, these rites 
 The goddess deeming just ? For from that hour 
 I have not found who might to Argos bear 
 Himself my message, back with life returned, 
 Or send to any of my friends my letter. 
 Thou therefore, since it seems thou dost not bear 
 111 will to me, and dost Mycenae know, 
 And those I wish t' address, be safe, and live, 
 No base reward for a light letter life 
 Receiving : and let him, since thus the state 
 Requires, without thee to the goddess bleed. 
 
 ORES. Virgin unknown, well hast thou said in all 
 Save this, that to the goddess he should bleed 
 A victim ; that were heavy grief indeed. 
 I steered the vessel to these ills, he sailed 
 Attendant on my toils : to gain thy grace 
 By his destruction, and withdraw myself 
 From sufferings, were unjust. Thus let it be : 
 Give him the letter ; to fulfil thy wish 
 To Argos he will bear it : me let him, 
 Who claims that office, slay. Base is his soul, 
 Who in calamities involves his friends, 
 And saves himself : this is a friend, whose life, 
 Dear to me as my own, I would preserve. 
 
 I PH. Excellent spirit ! From some noble root 
 It shows thee sprung, and to thy friends a friend 
 Sincere : of those that share my blood if one 
 Remains, such may he be ; for I am not 
 Without a brother, strangers, from my sight 
 Though distant now. Since then thy wish is such, 
 Him will I send to Argos : he shall bear 
 My letter, thou shalt die ; for this desire 
 Hath strong possession of thy noble soul.
 
 IPHIGENIA IN TAURIS. 219 
 
 ORES. Who then shall do the dreadful deed, and slay me ? 
 
 I PH. I : to atone the goddess is my charge. 
 
 ORES. A charge unenvied, virgin, and unblessed. 
 
 IPH. Necessity constrains : I must obey. 
 
 ORES. Wilt thou, a woman, plunge the sword in men ? 
 
 IPH. No : but thy locks to sprinkle round is mine. 
 
 ORES. Whose then, if I may ask, the bloody deed ? 
 
 IPH. To some within the temple this belongs. 
 
 ORES. What tomb is destined to receive my corse ? 
 
 IPH. The hallowed fire within, and a dark cave. 
 
 ORES. Oh that a sister's hand might wrap these limbs ! 
 
 IPH. Vain wish, unhappy youth, whoe'er thou art, 
 Hast thou conceived ; for from this barbarous land 
 Far is her dwelling. Yet of what my power 
 Permits, since thou from Argos drawst thy birth, 
 No grace will I omit ; for in thy tomb 
 I will place much of ornament, and pour 
 The dulcet labour of the yellow bee, 
 From mountain flowers extracted, on thy pyre. 
 But I will go, and from the temple bring 
 The letter : yet 'gainst me no hostile thought 
 Conceive. You that attend here, guard them well, 
 But without chains. To one, whom most I love 
 Of all my friends, to Argos I shall send 
 Tidings perchance unlocked for ; and this letter, 
 Declaring those, whom he thought dead, alive, 
 Shall bear him an assured and solid joy. 
 
 PYLADES, ORESTES, CHORUS. 
 
 CHOR. Thee, o'er whose limbs the bloody drops shall soon 
 Be from the lavers sprinkled, I lament. 
 
 ORES. This asks no pity, strangers: but farewell. 
 
 CHOR. Thee, for thy happy fate we reverence, youth, 
 Who to thy country shall again return. 
 
 PYL. To friends unwished, who leave their friends to die. 
 
 CHOR. Painful dismission ! Which shall I esteem 
 Most lost, alas, alas ! which most undone ! 
 For doubts my wav'ring judgment yet divide, 
 If chief for thee my sighs should swell, or thee.
 
 220 EURIPIDES. 
 
 ORES. By the gods, Pylades, is thy mind touched 
 In manner like as mine ? 
 
 PYL. I cannot tell ; 
 
 Nor to thy question have I to reply. 
 
 ORES. Who is this virgin ? With what zeal for Greece 
 Made she inquiries of us what the toils 
 At Troy, if yet the Grecians were returned, 
 And Calchas, from the flight of birds who formed 
 Presages of the future ? And she named 
 Achilles : with what tenderness bewailed 
 Th' unhappy Agamemnon ! Of his wife 
 She asked me, of his children : thence her race 
 This unknown virgin draws, an Argive ; else 
 Ne'er would she send this letter, nor have wished 
 To know these things, as if she bore a share, 
 If Argos flourish, in its prosperous state. 
 
 PYL. Such were my thoughts (but thou hast given them 
 
 words, 
 
 Preventing me), of every circumstance, 
 Save one : the fate of kings all know, whose state 
 Holds aught of rank. But pass to other thoughts. 
 
 ORES. What ? Share them ; so thou best mayst be in- 
 formed. 
 
 PYL. That thou shouldst die, and I behold this light,- 
 Were base : with thee I sailed, with thee to die 
 Becomes me ; else shall I obtain the name 
 Of a vile coward through the Argive state, 
 And the deep vales of Phocis. Most will think, 
 For most think ill, that by betraying thee 
 I saved myself, home to return alone : 
 Or haply that I slew thee, and thy death 
 Contrived, that in the ruin of thy house 
 Thy empire I might grasp, to me devolved 
 As wedded to thy sister, now sole heir. 
 These things I fear, and hold them infamous. 
 Behoves me then with thee to die, with thee 
 To bleed a victim, on the pyre with thine 
 To give my body to the flames ; for this 
 Becomes me as thy friend, who dread reproach.
 
 IPH1GENIA IN TAUR1S 221 
 
 ORES. Speak more auspicious words: 'tis mine to bear 
 Ills that are mine : and single when the woe, 
 I would not bear it double. What thou sayst 
 Is vile and infamous, would light on me, 
 Should I cause thee to die, who in my toils 
 Hast borne a share : to me, who from the gods 
 Suffer afflictions which I suffer, death 
 Is not unwelcome : thou art happy, thine 
 An unpolluted and a prosperous house ; 
 Mine impious and unblest. If thou art saved, 
 And from my sister, whom I gave to thee 
 Betrothed thy bride, art blessed with sons, my name 
 May yet remain, nor all my father's house 
 In total ruin sink. Go then, and live ; 
 Dwell in the mansion of thy ancestors. 
 And when thou comst to Greece, to Argos famed 
 For warrior-steeds, by this right hand I charge thee 
 Raise a sepulchral mound, and on its place 
 A monument to me ; and to my tomb 
 Her tears, her tresses let my sister give : 
 And say that by an Argive woman's hand 
 I perished, to the altar's bloody rites 
 A hallowed victim. Never Itt thy soul 
 Betray my sister, for thou seest her state 
 Of friends how destitute, her father's house 
 How desolate. Farewell ! Of all my friends 
 Thee have I found most friendly, from my youth 
 Trained up with me, in all my sylvan sports 
 Thou dear associate, and through many toils 
 Thou faithful partner of my miseries. 
 Me Phcebus, though a prophet, hath deceived, 
 And meditating guile hath driven me far 
 From Greece, of former oracles ashamed ; 
 To him resigned, obedient to his words, 
 I slew my mother, and my meed is death. 
 
 PYL. Yes, I will raise thy tomb : thy sister's bed 
 I never will betray, unhappy youth, 
 For I will hold thee dearer when thou'rt dead, 
 Than while thou livest ; nor hath yet the voice
 
 222 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Of Phoebus quite destroyed thee, though thou stand 
 To slaughter nigh : but sometimes mighty woes 
 Yield mighty changes, so when fortune wills. 
 
 ORES. Forbear : the words of Phoebus nought avail me ; 
 For passing from the shrine the virgin comes. 
 
 IPHIGENIA, ORESTES, PYLADES, CHORUS. 
 
 I PH. Go you away [to the Guards}, and in the shrine prepare 
 What those, who o'er the rites preside, require. 
 Here, strangers, is the letter folded close. 
 What I would further, hear : the mind of man 
 In dangers, and again from fear relieved 
 Of safety when assured, is not the same : 
 I therefore fear lest he, who should convey 
 To Argos this epistle, when returned 
 Safe to his native country will neglect 
 My letter, as a thing of little worth. 
 
 ORES. What wouldst thou then? What is thy anxious 
 thought ? 
 
 IPH. This ; let him give an oath that he will bear 
 To Argos this epistle to those friends 
 To whom it is my ardent wish to send it. 
 
 ORES. And wilt thou in return give him thy oath ? 
 
 IPH. That I will do, or will not do, say what. 
 
 ORES. To send him from this barbarous shore alive. 
 
 IPH. That's just ; how should he bear my letter else ? 
 
 ORES. But will the monarch to these things assent ? 
 
 IPH. By me induced. Him I will see embarked. 
 
 ORES. Swear then ; and thou propose the righteous oath. 
 
 IPH. This, let him say, he to my friends will give. 
 
 PYL. Well ; to thy friends this letter I will give. 
 
 IPH. Thee will I send safe through the dark'ning rocks. 
 
 PYL. What god dost thou invoke t' attest thy oath ? 
 
 IPH. Diana, at whose shrine high charge I hold. 
 
 PYL. And I heaven's potent king, the awful Jove. 
 
 IPH. But if thou slight thy oath, and do me wrong ? 
 
 PYL. Never may I return. But if thou fail, 
 And save me not ?
 
 IPHIGENIA IN TAUR1S. 223 
 
 I PH. Then never whilst I live 
 
 May I revisit my loved Argos more. 
 
 PVL. One thing, not mentioned, thy attention claims. 
 
 IPH. If honour owns it, this will touch us both. 
 
 PYL. Let me in this be pardoned, if the bark 
 Be lost, and with it in the surging waves 
 Thy letter perish, and I naked gain 
 The shore, no longer binding be the oath. 
 
 IPH. Knowst thou what I will do? For various ills 
 Arise to those that plough the dangerous deep. 
 What in this letter is contained, what here 
 Is written, all I will repeat to thee, 
 That thou mayst bear my message to my friends. 
 'Gainst danger thus I guard : if thou preserve 
 The letter, that though silent will declare 
 My purport : if it perish in the sea 
 Saving thyself my words too thou wilt save. 
 
 PYL. Well hast thou said touching the gods and me. 
 Say then, to whom at Argos shall I bear 
 This letter ? What relate as heard from thee ? 
 
 IPH. This message to Orestes, to the son 
 Of Agamemnon bear : " She, who was slain 
 At Aulis, Iphigenia, sends thee this : 
 She lives, but not to those who then were there." 
 
 ORES. Where is she ? From the dead returned to life ? 
 
 IPH. She whom thou seest ; but interrupt me not. 
 To Argos, O my brother, ere I die 
 Bear me from this barbaric land, and far 
 Remove me from this altar's bloody rites, 
 At which to slay the stranger is my charge. 
 
 ORES. W T hat shall I say ? Where are we, Pylades ? 
 
 IPH. Or on thy house for vengeance will I call, 
 Orestes. Twice repeated, learn the name. 
 
 ORES. Ye gods ! 
 
 IPH. In my cause why invoke the gods ? 
 
 ORES. Nothing ; proceed. My thoughts were wand'ring 
 
 wide. 
 Strange things of thee unasked I soon shall learn. 
 
 IPH. Tell him the goddess saved me, in exchange
 
 224 EURIPIDES. 
 
 A hind presenting, which my father slew 
 A victim, deeming that he plunged his sword 
 Deep in my breast ; me in this land she placed. 
 Thou hast my charge ; and this my letter speaks. 
 
 PYL. Oh thou hast bound me with an easy oath ; 
 What I have sworn with honest purpose, long 
 Defer I not, but thus discharge mine oath. 
 To thee a letter from thy sister, lo, 
 I bear, Orestes ; and I give it thee. 
 
 ORES. I do receive it, but forbear t' unclose 
 Its foldings, greater pleasure first t' enjoy 
 Than words can give. My sister, O most dear, 
 Astonished e'en to disbelief I throw 
 Mine arms around thee with a fond embrace, 
 In transport at the wond'rous things I hear. 
 
 CHOR. Stranger, thou dost not well with hands profane 
 Thus to pollute the priestess of the shrine, 
 Grasping her garments hallowed from the touch. 
 
 ORES. My sister, my dear sister, from one sire, 
 From Agamemnon sprung, turn not away, 
 Holding thy brother thus beyond all hope. 
 
 IPH. My brother ! Thou my brother ! Wilt thou not 
 Unsay these words ? At Argos far he dwells. 
 
 ORES. Thy brother, O unhappy ! is not there. 
 
 IPH. Thee did the Spartan Tyndarus bring forth ? 
 
 ORES. And from the son of Pelops' son I sprung. 
 
 IPH. What sayst thou ? Canst thou give me proof of 
 this? 
 
 ORES. I can : ask something of my father's house. 
 
 IPH. Nay, it is thine to speak, mine to attend. 
 
 ORES. First let me mention things which I have heard 
 Electra speak : to thee is known the strife 
 Which fierce 'twixt Atreus and Thyestes rose. 
 
 IPH. Yes, I have heard it ; for the golden ram. 
 
 ORES. In the rich texture didst thou not inweave it ? 
 
 IPH. O thou most dear ! Thou windest near my heart. 
 
 ORES. And image in the web th' averted sun ? 
 
 IPH. In the fine threads that figure did I work. 
 
 ORES. For Aulis did thy mother bathe thy limbs ?
 
 IPH1GENIA IN TA URIS. 225 
 
 I PH. I know it, to unlucky spousals led. 
 
 ORES. Why to thy mother didst thou send thy locks ? 
 
 I PH. Devoted for my body to the tomb. 
 
 ORES. What I myself have seen I now as proofs 
 Will mention. In thy father's house hung high 
 Within thy virgin chambers the old spear 
 Of Pelops, which he brandished when he slew 
 (Enomaus, and won his beauteous bride, 
 The virgin Hippodamia, Pisa's boast. 
 
 I PH. O thou most dear, for thou art he, most dear 
 Acknowledged, thee, Orestes, do I hold, 
 From Argos, from thy country distant far? 
 
 ORES. And hold I thee, my sister, long deemed dead ? 
 Grief mixed witli joy, and tears, not taught by woe 
 To rise, stand melting in thy eyes and mine. 
 
 IPH. Thee yet an infant in thy nurse's arms 
 I left, a babe I left thee in the house. 
 Thou art more happy, O my soul, than speech 
 Knows to express. What shall I say ? 'Tis all 
 Surpassing wonder and the power of words. 
 
 ORES. May we together from this hour be blest ! 
 
 IPH. An unexpected pleasure, O my friends, 
 Have I received ; yet fear I from my hands 
 Lest to the air it fly. O sacred hearths 
 Raised by the Cyclops ! O my country, loved 
 Mycenae ! Now that thou didst give me birth 
 I thank thee ; now I thank thee that my youth 
 Thou trainedst, since my brother thou hast trained, 
 A beam of light, the glory of his house. 
 
 ORES. We in our race are happy ; but our life, 
 My sister, by misfortunes is unhappy. 
 
 IPH. I was, I know, unhappy when the sword 
 My father, frentic, pointed at my neck. 
 
 ORES. Ah me ! methinks e'en now I see thee there. 
 
 IPH. When to Achilles, brother, not a bride 
 I to the sacrifice by guile was led, 
 And tears and groans the altar compassed round. 
 
 ORES. Alas the lavers there ! 
 
 IPH. I mourned the deed 
 
 H
 
 22 6 EURIPIDES, 
 
 My father dared ; unlike a father's love, 
 Cruel, unlike a father's love, to me. 
 
 ORES. Ill deeds succeed to ill ; if thou hadst slain 
 Thy brother, by some god impelled, what griefs 
 Must have been thine at such a dreadful deed ! 
 
 IPH. Dreadful, my brother, oh how dreadful ! Scarce 
 Hast thou escaped a foul, unhallowed death, 
 Slain by my hands. But how will these things end ? 
 What fortune will assist me ? What safe means 
 Shall I devise to send thee from this state, 
 From slaughter, to thy native land, to Argos, 
 Ere with thy blood the cruel sword be stained ? 
 This to devise, O my unhappy soul ! 
 This to devise is thine. Wilt thou by land, 
 Thy bark deserted, speed thy flight on foot ? 
 Perils await thee 'midst these barbarous tribes 
 Through pathless wilds. And 'twixt the clashing rocks 
 Narrow the passage for the flying bark, 
 And long. Unhappy, ah unhappy me ! 
 What god, what mortal, what unlooked-for chance 
 Will expedite our dangerous way, and show 
 Two sprung from Atreus a release from ills ? 
 
 CHOR. What having seen and heard I shall relate 
 Is marvellous, and passes fabling tales. 
 
 PYL. When after absence long, Orestes, friend 
 Meets friend, embraces will express their joy. 
 Behoves us now, bidding farewell to grief 
 And heedful to obtain the glorious name 
 Of safety, from this barbarous land to fly. 
 The wise, of fortune not regardless, seize 
 Th' occasion, and to happiness advance. 
 
 ORES. Well hast thou said ; and Fortune here, I ween, 
 Will aid us : to the firm and strenuous mind 
 More potent works the influence divine. 
 
 IPH. Nothing shall check, nothing restrain my speech : 
 First will I question thee what fortune waits 
 Electra : this to know would yield me joy. 
 
 ORES. With him she dwells, and happy is her life. 
 
 I PH. Whence then is he ? and from what father sorung ?
 
 IPHIGENIA IN TAURIS. 227 
 
 ORES. From Phocis : Strophius is his father named. 
 
 IPH. By Atreus* daughter to my blood allied ? 
 
 ORES. Nearly allied : my only faithful friend. 
 
 IPH. He was not then, me when my father slew. 
 
 ORES. Childless was Strophius for some length of time. 
 
 IPH. O thou, the husband of my sister, hail ! 
 
 ORES. More than relation, my preserver too. 
 
 IPH. But to thy mother why that dreadful deed ? 
 
 ORES. Of that no more : t' avenge my father's death. 
 
 IPH. But for what cause did she her husband slay ? 
 
 ORES. Of her inquire not : thou wouldst blush to hear. 
 
 IPH. The eyes of Argos now are raised to thee. 
 
 ORES. There Menelaus is lord ; I, outcast, fly. 
 
 IPH. Hath he then wronged his brother's ruined house? 
 
 ORES. Not so : the Furies fright me from the land. 
 
 IPH. The madness this, which seized thee on the shore? 
 
 ORES. I was not first beheld unhappy there. 
 
 IPH. Stern powers; they haunt thee for thy mother's 
 blood. 
 
 ORES. And ruthless make me champ the bloody bit. 
 
 IPH. Why to this region hast thou steered thy course ? 
 
 ORES. Commanded by Apollo's voice I come. 
 
 IPH. With that intent ? if that may be disclosed. 
 
 ORES. I will inform thee, though to length of speech 
 This leads. When vengeance from my hands o'ertook 
 My -mother's deed, foul deeds which let me pass 
 In silence, by the Furies' fierce assaults 
 To flight I was impelled : to Athens then 
 Apollo sent me, that, my cause there heard, 
 I might appease the vengeful powers, whose names 
 May not be uttered. The tribunal there 
 Is holy, which for Mars when stained with blood 
 Jove in old times established. There arrived 
 None willingly received me, by the gods 
 As one abhorred ; and they, who felt the touch 
 Of shame, the hospitable board alone 
 Yielded, and though one common roof beneath, 
 Their silence showing they disdained to hold 
 Converse with me, I took from them apart 
 
 H2
 
 228 EURIPIDES. 
 
 A lone repast ; to each was placed a bowl 
 
 Of the same measure ; this they rilled with wine, 
 
 And bathed their spirits in delight. Unmeet 
 
 I deemed it to express offence at those 
 
 Who entertained me, but in silence grieved, 
 
 Showing a cheer as though I marked it not, 
 
 And sighed for that I shed my mother's blood. 
 
 A feast, I hear, at Athens is ordained 
 
 From this my evil plight, e'en yet observed, 
 
 In which the equal-measured bowl then used 
 
 Is by that people held in honour high. 
 
 But when to the tribunal on the mount 
 
 Of Mars I came, one stand I took, and one 
 
 The eldest of the Furies opposite : 
 
 The cause was heard touching my mother's blood, 
 
 And Phoebus saved me by his evidence ; 
 
 Equal, by Pallas numbered, were the votes, 
 
 And I from doom of blood victorious freed. 
 
 Such of the Furies as there sate, appeased 
 
 By the just sentence, nigh the court resolved 
 
 To fix their seat ; but others, whom the law 
 
 Appeased not, with relentless tortures still 
 
 Pursued me, till I reached the hallowed soil 
 
 Of Phoebus. Stretched before his shrine I swore 
 
 Foodless to waste my wretched life away, 
 
 Unless the god, by whom I was undone, 
 
 Would save me. From the golden tripod burst 
 
 The voice divine, and sent me to this shore, 
 
 Commanding me to bear the image hence, 
 
 Which fell from Jove, and in th' Athenian land 
 
 To fix it. What th' oracular voice assigned 
 
 My safety, do thou aid. If we obtain 
 
 The statue of the goddess, I no more 
 
 With madness shall be tortured, but this arm 
 
 Shall place thee in my bark, which ploughs the waves 
 
 With many an oar, nnd to Mycenae safe 
 
 Bear thee again. Show then a sister's love, 
 
 O thou most dear, preserve thy father's house, 
 
 Preserve me too ; for me destruction waits,
 
 IPHIGENIA IN TA UR1S. 229 
 
 And all the race of Pelops, it we bear not 
 This heaven-descended image from the shrine. 
 
 CHOR. The anger of the gods hath raged severe, 
 And plunged the race of Tantalus in woes. 
 
 I PH. Ere thy arrival here, a fond desire 
 To be again at Argos, and to see 
 Thee, my loved brother, filled my soul. Thy wish 
 Is my warm wish, to free thee from thy toils, 
 And from its ruins mise my father's house ; 
 Nor harbour I 'gainst him, that slew me, thought 
 Of harsh resentment : from thy blood my hands 
 Would I keep pure, thy house I would preserve. 
 But from the goddess how rrny this be hid ? 
 The tyrant too I fear, when he shall find 
 The statue on its mnrble base no more. 
 What then from death will save me ? What excuse 
 Shall I devise ? Yet by one daring deed 
 Might these things be achieved, couldst thou bear hence 
 The image, me too in thy gallant bark 
 Placing secure, how glorious were th' attempt ! 
 Me if thou join not with thee, I am lost 
 Indeed ; but thou, with prudent measures formed, 
 Return. I fly no danger, not e'en death, 
 Be death required, to save thee. No : the man 
 Dying is mourned as to his house a loss ; 
 But woman's weakness is of light esteem. 
 
 ORES. I would not be the murderer of my mother, 
 And of thee too ; sufficient is her blood. 
 No ; I will share thy fortune, live with thee, 
 Or with thee die : to Argos I will lead thee, 
 If here I perish not ; or dying here 
 Remain with thee. But what my mind suggests 
 Hear : if Diana were averse to this, 
 How could the voice of Phcebus from his shrine 
 Declare that to the state of Pallas hence 
 The statue of the goddess I should bear, 
 And see thy face ? All this together weighed 
 Gives hope of fair success, and our return. 
 
 IPH. But how effect it, that we neither die,
 
 2 3 o EURIPIDES. 
 
 And what we wish achieve ? For our return 
 On this depends : this claims deliberate thought. 
 
 ORES. Have we not means to work the tyrant's death ? 
 IPH. For strangers full of peril were th' attempt. 
 ORES. Thee would it save and me, it must be dared. 
 IPH. I could not : yet thy promptness I approve. 
 ORES. What if thou lodge me in the shrine concealed ? 
 IPH. That in the shades of night we may escape ? 
 ORES. Night is a friend to frauds, the light to truth. 
 IPH. Within are sacred guards ; we 'scape not them. 
 ORES. Ruin then waits us : how can we be saved ? 
 IPH. I think I have some new and safe device. 
 ORES. What is it ? Let me know : impart thy thought. 
 IPH. Thy sufferings for my purpose I will use. 
 ORES. To form devices quick is woman's wit. 
 IPH. And say, thy mother slain thou fledst from Argos. 
 ORES. If to aught good, avail thee of my ills. 
 IPH. Unmeet then at this shrine to offer thee. 
 ORES. What cause alleged? I reach not thine intent. 
 IPH. As now impure : when hallowed, I will slay thee. 
 ORES. How is the image thus more promptly gained ? 
 
 IPH. Thee I will hallow in the ocean waves. 
 
 ORES, The statue we would gain is in the temple. 
 
 IPH. That, by thy touch polluted, I would cleanse. 
 
 ORES. Where ? On the wat'ry margin of the main ? 
 
 IPH. Where thy tall bark secured with cables rides. 
 
 ORES. And who shall bear the image in his hands? 
 
 IPH. Myself: profaned by any touch but mine. 
 
 ORES. What of this blood shall on my friend be charged ? 
 
 IPH. His hands it shall be said, like thine are stained. 
 
 ORES. In secret this, or to the king disclosed ? 
 
 IPH. With his assent ; I cannot hide it from him. 
 
 ORES. My bark with ready oars attends thee near. 
 
 I PH. That all be well appointed be thy charge. 
 
 ORES. One thing alone remains, that these conceal 
 Our purpose : but address them, teach thy tongue 
 Persuasive words : a woman hath the power 
 To melt the heart to pity : thus perchance 
 All things may to our warmest wish succeed.
 
 IPHIGENIA IN TAURIS. 
 
 I PH. Ye train of females, to my soul most dear, 
 On you mine eyes are turned, on you depends 
 My fate : with prosperous fortune to be blest, 
 Or to be nothing, to my country lost, 
 Of a dear kinsman and a much loved brother 
 Deprived. This plea I first would urge, that we 
 Are women, and have hearts by nature formed 
 To love each other, of our mutual trusts 
 Most firm preservers. Touching our design 
 Be siknt, and assist our flight ; nought claims 
 More honour than the faithful tongue. You see 
 How the same fortune links us three, most dear 
 Each to the other, to revisit safe 
 Our country, or to die. If I am saved, 
 That thou mayst share my fortune, I to Greece 
 Will bring thee safe : but thee by this right hand, 
 Thee I conjure, and thee ; by this loved cheek 
 Thee, by thy knees, by all that in your house 
 Is dearest to you, father, mother, child, 
 If you have children. What do you reply ? 
 Which of you speaks assent ? Or which dissents ? 
 But be you all assenting : for my plea 
 If you approve not, ruin falls on me, 
 And my unhappy brother too must die. 
 
 CHOR. Be confident, loved lady, and consult 
 Only thy safety : all thou givst in charge, 
 Be witness, mighty Jove, I will conceal. 
 
 IPH. Oh for this generous promise be you blest ! 
 To enter now the temple be thy part, 
 And thine : for soon the monarch of the land 
 Will come, inquiring if the strangers yet 
 Have bowed their necks as victims at the shrine. 
 Goddess revered, who in the dreadful bay 
 Of Aulis from my father's slaughtering hand 
 Didst save me, save me now, and these ; through thee 
 Else will the voice of Phoebus be no more 
 Held true by mortals: from this barbarous land 
 To Athens go propitious ; here to dwell 
 Beseems thee not : thine be a polished state !
 
 232 EURIPIDES. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 Strophe i. 
 O bird, that round each craggy height 
 
 Projecting o'er the sea below, 
 Wheelest thy melancholy flight, 
 
 Thy song attuned to notes of woe ; 
 The wise thy tender sorrows own, 
 Which thy lost lord unceasing moan : 
 Like thine, sad Halcyon, be my strain, 
 
 A bird that have no wings to fly : 
 
 With fond desire for Greece I sigh, 
 And for my much loved social train ; 
 Sigh for Diana, pitying maid, 
 
 Who joys to rove o'er Cynthus' heights, 
 Or in the branching laurel's shade, 
 
 Or in the soft-haired palm delights, 
 Or the hoar olive's sacred boughs, 
 Lenient of sad Latona's woes, 
 Or in the lake that rolls its wave 
 Where swans their plumage love to lave, 
 Then to the Muses soaring high, 
 
 The homage pay of melody. 
 
 Antistrophe i. 
 Ye tears, what frequent-falling showers 
 
 Rolled down these cheeks in streams of woe, 
 When in the dust my country's towers 
 
 Lay levelled by the conquering foe ; 
 And. to their spears a prey, their oars 
 Brought me to these barbaric shores ! 
 For gold exchanged, a traffic base, 
 
 No vulgar slave, the task is mine 
 
 Here at Diana's awful shrine, 
 \Vho loves the woodland hind to chase, 
 The virgin priestess to attend, 
 
 Daughter of rich Mycenae's lord ; 
 At other shrines her wish to bend, 
 
 Where bleeds the victim less abhorred :
 
 IPHIGENIA IN TAURIS. 233 
 
 No respite to her griefs she knows, 
 Not so the heart inured to woes, 
 As trained to sorrow's rigid lore : 
 Now comes a change, it mourns no more. 
 But to long bliss when ill succeeds 
 The anguished heart for ever bleeds. 
 
 Strophe 2. 
 
 Thee, loved virgin, freed from fear 
 Home the Argive bark shall bear : 
 Mountain Pan, with shrilling strain, 
 To the oars that dash the main 
 In just cadence well agreed, 
 Shall accord his wax-joined reed : 
 Phoebus,, with a prophet's fire 
 Sweeping o'er his seven-stringed lyre, 
 And his voice attuning high 
 To the swelling harmony, 
 Thee shall guide the wild waves o'er 
 To the soft Athenian shore. 
 Leaving me, thy oars shall sweep 
 Eager o'er the foaming deep ; 
 Thou shalt catch the rising gales 
 Swelling in thy firm-bound sails, 
 And thy bark in gallant pride 
 Light shall o'er the billo.vs glide. 
 
 Antistrophe 2. 
 
 Might I through the lucid air 
 
 Fly where rolls yon flaming car, 
 
 O'er these loved and modest bowers, 
 
 Where I passed my youthful hours, 
 
 I would stay my weary flight, 
 
 Wave no more my pennons light, 
 
 But amidst the virgin band, 
 
 Once my loved companions, stand : 
 
 Once 'midst them my charms could move, 
 
 Blooming then, the flames of love,
 
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 When the mazy dance I trod, 
 Whilst with joy my mother glowed ; 
 When to vie in grace was mine, 
 And in splendid robes to shine ; 
 For with radiant tints imprest 
 Glowed for me the gorgeous vest ; 
 And these tresses gave new grace, 
 As their ringlets shade my face. 
 
 THOAS, IPHIGENIA, CHORUS. 
 
 THO. Where is the Grecian lady, to whose charge 
 This temple is committed ? Have her rites 
 Hallowed the strangers ? Do their bodies burn 
 In the recesses of the sacred shrine ? 
 
 CHOR. She comes, and will inform thee, king, of all. 
 
 THO. Daughter of Agamemnon, what means this ! 
 The statue of the goddess in thine arms 
 Why dost thou bear from its firm base removed ? 
 
 IPH. There in the portal, monarch, stay thy step. 
 
 THO. What of strange import in the shrine hath chanced ? 
 
 IPH. Things ominous: that word I, holy, speak. 
 
 THO. To what is tuned thy proem ? Plainly speak. 
 
 IPH. Not pure the victims, king, you lately seized. 
 
 THO. What showed thee this? Or speakst thou but thy 
 thought ? 
 
 IPH. Back turned the sacred image on its base. 
 
 THO. Spontaneous turned, or by an earthquake moved ? 
 
 IPH. Spontaneous ; and, averted, closed its eyes. 
 
 THO. Whatwas the cause? The blood-stained strangers' guilt? 
 
 IPH. That and nought else; for horrible their deeds. 
 
 THO. What, have they slain some Scythian on the shore ? 
 
 IPH. They came polluted with domestic blood. 
 
 THO. What blood ? I have a strong desire to know. 
 
 IPH. They slew their mother with confederate swords. 
 
 THO. O Phoebus ! This hath no barbarian dared. 
 
 IPH. All Greece indignant chased them from her realms. 
 
 THO. Bearst thou for this -the image from the shrine ? 
 
 IPH. To the pure air, from stain of biood removed.
 
 IPHIGEN1A IN TAURIS. 235 
 
 THO. By what means didst them know the strangers' guilt ? 
 
 I PH. I learned it as the statue started back. 
 
 THO. Greece trained thee wise : this well hast thou dis- 
 cerned. 
 
 IPH. Now with sweet blandishments they soothe my soul. 
 
 THO. Some glozing tale from Argos telling thee ? 
 
 IPH. I have one brother : he, they say, lives happy. 
 
 THO. That thou mayst save them for their pleasing news ? 
 
 IPH. And that my father lives, by fortune blessed. 
 
 THO. But on the goddess well thy thoughts are turned. 
 
 IPH. I hate all Greece ; for it hath ruined me. 
 
 THO. What with the strangers, say then, should be done ? 
 
 IPH. The law ordained in reverence we must hold. 
 
 THO. Are then thy lavers ready, and the sword ? 
 
 IPH. First I would cleanse them with ablutions pure. 
 
 THO. In fountain waters, or the ocean wave ? 
 
 IPH. All man's pollutions doth the salt sea cleanse. 
 
 THO. More holy to the goddess will they bleed. 
 
 IPH. And better what I have in charge advance. 
 
 THO. Doth not the wave e'en 'gainst the temple beat ? 
 
 IPH. This requires solitude : more must I do. 
 
 THO. Lead where thou wilt : on secret rites I pry not. 
 
 IPH. The image of the goddess I must cleanse. 
 
 THO. If it be stained with touch of mother's blood. 
 
 IPH. I could not else have borne it from its base. 
 
 THO. Just is thy provident and pious thought : 
 For this by all the state thou art revered. 
 
 IPH. Knowst thou what next I would ? 
 
 THO. J Tis thine thy will 
 
 To signify. 
 
 IPH. Give for these strangers chains. 
 
 THO. To what place can they fly ? 
 
 IPH. A Grecian knows 
 
 Nought faithful. 
 
 THO. Of my train go some for chains. 
 
 IPH. Let them lead forth the strangers. 
 
 THO. Be it so. 
 
 IPH. And veil their faces. 
 
 THO. From the sun's bright beams ?
 
 236 EURIPIDES. 
 
 IPH. Some of thy train send with me. 
 
 THO. These shall go 
 
 Attending thee. 
 
 IPH. One to the city send. 
 
 THO. With what instructions charged ? 
 
 IPH. That all remain 
 
 Within their houses. 
 
 THO. That the stain of blood 
 
 They meet not ? 
 
 IPH. These things have pollution in them. 
 
 THO. Go thou, and bear th' instructions. 
 
 IPH. That none come 
 
 In sight. 
 
 THO. How wisely careful for the city ! 
 
 IPH. Warn our friends most. 
 
 THO. This speaks thy care for me. 
 
 IPH. Stay thou before the shrine. 
 
 THO. To what intent ? 
 
 IPH. Cleanse it with lustral fires. 
 . THO. That thy return 
 
 May find it pure ? 
 
 IPH. But when the strangers come 
 
 Forth from the temple. 
 
 THO. What must I then do ? 
 
 IPH. Spread o'er thine eyes a veil. 
 
 THO. That I receive not 
 
 Pollution ? 
 
 IPH. Tedious if my stay appear. 
 
 THO. What bounds may be assigned ? 
 
 IPH. Deem it not strange. 
 
 Tuo. At leisure what the rites require perform. 
 
 IPH. May this lustration as I wish succeed. 
 THO. Thy wish is mine. 
 
 IPH. But from the temple, see, 
 
 The strangers come, the sacred ornaments, 
 The hallowed lambs, for I with blood must wash 
 This execrable blood away, the light 
 Of torches, and what else my rites require 
 To purify these strangers to the goddess.
 
 JPHIGENIA IN TAURIS. 237 
 
 But to the natives of this land my voice 
 Proclaims, from this pollution far remove, 
 Art thou attendant at the shrine, who liftest 
 Pure to the gods thy hands, or nuptial rites 
 Dost thou prepare, or pregnant matron, hence 
 Be gone, that this defilement none may touch. 
 Thou, daughter of Latona and high Jove, 
 O royal virgin, if I cleanse the stain 
 Of these, and where I ought with holy rites 
 Address thee, thou shalt hold thy residence 
 In a pure mansion ; we too shall be blest ! 
 More though I speak not, goddess, unexpressed 
 All things to thee and to the gods are known. 
 
 CHOR. Latona's glorious offspring claims the song, 
 
 Born the hallowed shades among 
 Where fruitful Delos winds her valleys low ; 
 
 Bright-haired Phoebus skilled t' inspire 
 
 Raptures as he sweeps the lyre, 
 And she that glories in th' unerring bow. 
 
 From the rocky ridges steep, 
 At whose foot the hushed waves sleep, 
 
 Left their far famed native shore, 
 
 Them th' exulting mother bore 
 
 To Parnassus, on whose heights 
 
 Bacchus shouting holds his rites ; 
 
 Glitt'ring in the burnished shade, 
 
 By the laurel's branches made, 
 
 Where th' enormous dragon lies, 
 
 Brass his scales, and flame his eyes, 
 
 Earth-born monster, that around 
 
 Rolling guards th' oracular ground : 
 
 Him, while yet a sportive child 
 
 In his mother's arms that smiled, 
 
 Phoebus slew, and seized the shrine 
 
 Whence proceeds the voice divine ; 
 
 On the golden tripod placed, 
 
 Throne by falsehood ne'er disgraced, 
 
 Where Castalia's pure stream flows, 
 
 He the fates to mortals shows.
 
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 But when Themis, whom of yore 
 Earth, her fruitful mother, bore, 
 From her hallowed seat he drove, 
 Earth t' avenge her daughter strove, 
 Forming visions of the night, 
 Which, in rapt dreams hearing light, 
 All that Time's dark volumes hold 
 Might to mortal sense unfold, 
 When in midnight's sable shades 
 Sleep the silent couch invades : 
 Thus did Earth her vengeance boast. 
 His prophetic honours lost, 
 Royal Phoebus speeds his flight 
 To Olympus, on whose height 
 At the throne of Jove he stands, 
 Stretching forth his little hands, 
 Suppliant that the Pythian shrine 
 Feel no more the wrath divine ; 
 That the goddess he appease, 
 That her nightly visions cease. 
 Jove with smiles beheld his son 
 Early thus address his throne, 
 Suing with ambitious pride 
 O'er the rich shrine to preside : 
 He assenting bowed his head. 
 Straight the nightly visions fled ; 
 And prophetic dreams no more 
 Hovered slumb'ring mortals o'er : 
 Now to Phoebus given again 
 All his honours pure remain ; 
 Votaries distant regions send 
 His frequented throne t' attend, 
 And the firm decrees of fate 
 On his faithful voice await. 
 
 MESSENGER, CHORUS. 
 
 MESS. Say you, that keep the temple and attend 
 The altar, where is Thoas, Scythia's king ? 
 Open these strong-compacted gates, and call 
 Forth from the shrine the monarch of the land.
 
 IPHIGENIA IN TAURIS. 239 
 
 CHOR. Wherefore? At thy command if I must speak. 
 
 MESS. The two young men are gone, through the device 
 Of Agamemnon's daughter ; from this land 
 They fly, and in their Grecian galley placed 
 The sacred image of the goddess bear. 
 
 CHOR. Incredible thy tale: but whom thou seekest 
 The monarch from the temple went in haste. 
 
 MESS. Whither ? For what is doing he should know. 
 
 CHOR. We know not : but go thou and seek for him : 
 Where'er thou find him, thou wilt tell him this. 
 
 MESS. See, what a faithless race you women are ! 
 In all that hath been done you have a part. 
 
 CHOR. Sure thou art. mad ? What with the strangers' 
 
 flight 
 
 Have we to do ? But wilt thou not with all 
 The speed thou mayst go to the monarch's house ? 
 
 MESS. Not till I first am well informed if here 
 Within the temple be the king or not. 
 Unbar the gates : to you within I speak ; 
 And tell your lord that at the portal here 
 I stand, and bring him tidings of fresh ills. 
 
 THOAS, MESSENGER, CHORUS. 
 
 THO. Who at the temple of the goddess dares 
 This clamour raise, and thund'ring at the gates 
 Strikes terror through the ample space within ? 
 
 MESS. With falsehoods would these women drive me hence, 
 Without to seek thee ; thou wast in the shrine. 
 
 THO. With what intent ? Or what advantage sought ? 
 
 MESS. Of these hereafter : what more urgent now 
 Imports thee, hear : the virgin, in this place 
 Presiding at the altars, from this land 
 Is with the strangers fled, and bears with her 
 The sacred image of the goddess : all 
 Of her ablutions but a false pretence. 
 
 THO. How sayst thou ? What is her accursed design ? 
 
 MESS. To save Orestes : this too will amaze thee. 
 
 THO. Whom ? What Orestes ? Clytemnestra's son ? 
 
 MESS. Him at the altar hallowed now to bleed.
 
 240 EURIPIDES. 
 
 THO. Portentous ! For what less can it be called ? 
 
 MESS. Think not on that, but hear me ; with deep 
 
 thought 
 
 Reflect ; weigh well what thou shalt hear, devise 
 By what pursuit to reach and seize the strangers. 
 
 THO. Speak : thou advisest well ; the sea though nigh, 
 They fly not so as to escape my spear. 
 
 MESS. When to the shore \ve came, where stationed rode 
 The galley of Orestes by the rocks 
 Concealed, to us, whom thou hadst sent with her 
 To hold the strangers' chains, the royal maid 
 Made signs that we retire, and stand aloof, 
 As if with secret rites she would perform 
 The purposed expiation : on she went, 
 In her own hands holding the strangers' chains 
 Behind them : not without suspicion this, 
 Yet by thy servants, king, allowed. At length, 
 That we might deem her in some purpose high 
 Employed, she raised her voice, and chaunted loud 
 Barbaric strains, as if with mystic rites 
 She cleansed the stain of blood. When we had sate 
 A tedious while, it came into our thought 
 That from their chains unloosed the stranger youths 
 Might kill her, and escape by flight; yet fear 
 Of seeing what we ought not kept us still 
 In silence ; but at length we all resolved 
 To go, though not permitted, where they were. 
 There we behold the Grecian bark, with oars 
 Well furnished, winged for flight ; and at their seats 
 Grasping their oars were fifty rowers ; free 
 From chains beside the stern the two youths stood. 
 Some from the prow relieved the keel with poles ; 
 Some weighed the anchors up ; the climbing ropes 
 Some hastened, through their hands the cables drew, 
 Launched the light bark, and gave her to the main. 
 But when we saw their treacherous wiles, we rushed 
 Heedless of danger, seized the priestess, seized 
 The halsers, hung upon the helm, and strove 
 To rend the rudder-bands away. Debate
 
 IPHIGEN1A IN TAURIS. 241 
 
 Now rose : " What mean you, sailing o'er the seas, 
 The statue and the priestess from the land 
 By stealth conveying? Whence art thou, and who, 
 That bearst her, like a purchased slave, away ? " 
 He said : " I am her brother, be of this 
 Informed, Orestes, son of Agamemnon ; 
 My sister, so long lost, I bear away, 
 Recovered here." Ikit nought the less for that 
 Held we the priestess, and by force would lead 
 Again to thee ; hence dreadful on our cheeks 
 The blows ; for in their hands no sword they held, 
 Nor we ; but many a rattling stroke the youths 
 Dealt with their fists, against our sides and breasts 
 Their arms fierce darting, till our battered limbs 
 Were all disabled. Now with dreadful marks 
 Disfigured up the precipice we fly, 
 Some bearing on their heads, some in their eyes 
 The bloody bruises ; standing on the heights 
 Our fight was safer, and we hurled at them 
 Fragments of rocks ; but standing on the stern 
 The archers with their arrows drove us thence. 
 And now a swelling wave rolled in, which drove 
 The galley tow'rds the land ; the sailors feared 
 The sudden swell. On his left arm sustained 
 Orestes bore his sister through the tide, 
 Mounted the bark's tall side, and on the deck 
 Safe placed her, and Diana's holy image 
 Which fell from heaven : from the midship his voice 
 He sent aloud, "Ye youths, that in this bark 
 From Argos ploughed the deep, now ply your oars, 
 And dash the billows till they foam : those things 
 Are ours, for which we swept the Euxine sea, 
 And steered our course within its clashing rocks." 
 They gave a cheerful shout, and with their oars 
 Dashed the salt wave. The galley, whilst it rode 
 Within the harbour, worked its easy way; 
 But having passed its mouth, the swelling flood 
 Rolled on it, and wi.h sudden force the wind 
 Impetuous rising drove it back ; their oars
 
 242 EURIPIDES. 
 
 They slacked not, stoutly struggling 'gainst the wave j 
 
 But towards the land the refluent flood impelled 
 
 The galley ; then the royal virgin stood, 
 
 And prayed : " O daughter of Latona, save me, 
 
 Thy priestess save ; from this barbaric land 
 
 To Greece restore me, and forgive my thefts ; 
 
 For thou, O goddess, dost thy brother love, 
 
 Deem then that I love those allied to me." 
 
 The mariners responsive to her prayer 
 
 Shouted loud paeans, and their naked arms, 
 
 Each cheering each, to their stout oars apply. 
 
 But nearer, and yet nearer to the rock 
 
 The galley drove ; some rushed into the sea, 
 
 Some strained the ropes that bind the loosened sails. 
 
 Straight was I hither sent to thee, O king, 
 
 T' inform thee of these accidents. But haste, 
 
 Take chains and gyves with thee ; for if the flood 
 
 Subside not to a calm, there is no hope 
 
 Of safety to the strangers. Be assured 
 
 That Neptune, awful monarch of the main, 
 
 Remembers Troy, and, hostile to the race 
 
 Of Pelops, will deliver to thy hands, 
 
 And to thy people, as is meet, the son 
 
 Of Agamemnon ; and bring back to thee 
 
 His sister, who the goddess hath betrayed, 
 
 Unmindful of the blood at Aulis shed. 
 
 CHOR. Unhappy Iphigenia, thou must die, 
 Thy brother too must die, if thou again, 
 Seized in thy flight, to thy lord's hands shalt come. 
 
 THO. Inhabitants of this barbaric land, 
 Will you not rein your steeds, will you not fly 
 Along the shore, to seize whate'er this skiff 
 Of Greece casts forth, and for your goddess roused 
 Hunt down these impious men ? Will you not launch 
 Instant your swift-oared barks, by sea, by land 
 To catch them, from the rugged rock to hurl 
 Their bodies, or impale them on the stake ? 
 But for you women, in these dark designs 
 Accomplices, hereafter, as I find
 
 IPHIGENIA IN TAURIS. 243 
 
 Convenient leisure, I will punish you. 
 
 Th' occasion urges now, and gives no pause. 
 
 MIN. Whither, O royal Thoas, dost thou lead 
 This vengeful chase ? Attend; Minerva speaks. 
 Cease thy pursuit, and stop this rushing flood 
 Of arms ; for hither by the fateful voice 
 Of Phcebus came Orestes, warned to fly 
 The anger of the Furies, to convey 
 His sister to her native Argos back, 
 An.d to my land the sacred image bear. 
 Thoas, I speak to thee : him, whom thy rage 
 Would kill, Orestes, on the wild waves seized, 
 Neptune, to do me grace, already wafts 
 On the smooth sea, the swelling surges calmed. 
 And thou, Orestes (for my voice thou hearest, 
 Though distant far), to my commands r.ttend : 
 Go, with the sacred image, which thou bearest, 
 And with thy sister : but when thou shall come 
 To Athens, built by gods, there is a place 
 On th' extreme borders of the Attic land, 
 Close neighb'ring to Carystia's craggy height, 
 Sacred, my people call it Alse : there 
 A temple raise, and fix the statue there, 
 Which from the Tauric goddess shall receive 
 Its name, and from thy toils, which thou, through Greece 
 Driven by the Furies' madd'ning stings, hast borne ; 
 And mortals shall in future times with hymns 
 The Tauric goddess there, Diana, hail. 
 And be this law established, when the feast 
 For thy deliverance from this shrine is held, 
 To a man's throat that they apply the sword, 
 And draw the blood, in memory of these rites, 
 That of her honours nought the goddess lose. 
 Thou, Iphigenia, on the hallowed heights 
 Of Brauron on this goddess shalt attend 
 Her priestess, dying shalt be there interred, 
 Graced with the honours of the gorgeous vests 
 Of finest texture, in their houses left 
 By matrons who in chifabed pangs expired.
 
 244 EURIPIDES. 
 
 These Grecian dames back to their country lead, 
 I charge thee : justice this return demands ; 
 For I saved thee, when on the mount of Mars 
 The votes were equal : and from that decree, 
 The shells in number equal, still absolve. 
 But, son of Agamemnon, from this land 
 Thy sister bear ; nor, Thoas, be thou angry. 
 
 THO. Royal Minerva, he that hears the gods 
 Commanding, and obeys not, is unwise. 
 My anger 'gainst Orestes flames no more, 
 Gone though he be, and bears with him away 
 The statue of the goddess, and his sister. 
 Have mortals glory 'gainst the powerful gods 
 Contending ? Let them go, and to thy land 
 The sacred image bear, and fix it there ; 
 Good fortune go with them. To favoured Greece 
 These dames, at thy high bidding, I will send. 
 My arms will I restrain, which I had raised 
 Against the strangers, and my swift-oared barks, 
 Since, potent goddess, this is pleasing to thee. 
 
 MIN. I praise thy resolution ; for the power 
 Of fate o'er thee and o'er the gods prevails. 
 Breathe soft ye fav'ring gales, to Athens bear 
 These sprung from Agamemnon ; on their course 
 Attending I will go, and heedful save 
 My sister's sacred image. You too go \to the CHORUS] 
 Prosp'rous, and in the fate that guards you blest. 
 
 CHOR. O thou, among th' immortal gods revered, 
 And mortal men, Minerva, we will do 
 As thou commandest ; for with transport high, 
 Exceeding hope, our ears receive thy words. 
 O Victory, I revere thy awful power : 
 Guard thou my life, nor ever cease to crown me !
 
 THE TROJAN DAMES. 
 
 A MIGHTY kingdom overturned, its imperial city wasted and 
 levelled with the ground, its venerable king, his numerous sons, 
 and all the brave defenders of their country fallen by the sword, 
 their unhappy wives captive and assigned to slavery in a foreign 
 land, are events of sucli complicated misery as must deeply 
 affect the human heart. liuripides knew how to give these 
 woes their full force : his tender and pathetic spirit raises here 
 the most exquisite sensations of pity, which increase to terror, 
 and swell on to distraction. One would have thought that the 
 real existence of evils could not be greater, and that the imagi- 
 nation could not form a deeper distress than that of Hecuba on 
 her first appearance, lying on the ground before the tent of 
 Agamemnon : but every new scene presents her with some 
 new cause of grief of the most affecting nature ; the gradation 
 is astonishing ; and the whole drama resembles a terrible storm 
 whose fury falls upon some magnificent edifice. At first it is 
 awful and alarming ; but its violence increase?, every flash of 
 lightning sets some part of the structure on fire, every clap of 
 thunder shakes some part to the ground, till at length the whole 
 is one dreadful scene of tempest, flames, and ruin. 
 
 The scene is in the plains of Troy, before the tent of 
 Agamemnon.
 
 246 EURIPIDES. 
 
 NEPTUNE. 
 
 MINERVA. 
 
 HECUBA. 
 
 CASSANDRA. 
 
 ANDROMACHE. 
 
 PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. 
 
 HELENA. 
 
 MENELAUS. 
 TALTHYBIUS. 
 
 CHORUS OF TROJAN DAMES. 
 
 NEPTUNE. 
 
 FROM the vast depths of the ^Egean sea, 
 
 Where many a maze with graceful-moving feet 
 
 Unwinds the choir of Nereids, Neptune comes. 
 
 For from the time when Phoebus and myself 
 
 Raised on this land the rampired towers of Troy 
 
 With exact skill, my mind hath never lost 
 
 Its fondness for this city of the Phrygians, 
 
 Which now in ruins by the arms of Greece 
 
 Smokes on the ground : for by Minerva's art 
 
 Epe'us of Parnassian Phocis framed 
 
 A horse, whose hollow womb was full of arms, 
 
 And sent within the walls th' enormous bulk 
 
 Big with destruction ; hence in after times 
 
 It shall be called " The Horse of Spears," the spear 
 
 In its dark sides concealed. The sacred groves 
 
 Are desolate, the temples of the gods 
 
 Flooded with gore, and Priam at the steps 
 
 Ascending to the shrine of guardian Jove 
 
 Hath fall'n and died : much gold, and Phrygian spoils 
 
 Are to the Grecian vessels borne ; the troops 
 
 Expect the fav'ring gale to breathe from shore, 
 
 That after ten long years, which they have passed 
 
 In arms to lay this city low, with joy 
 
 They may behold their children and their wives'. 
 
 But I, by Argive Juno, mighty queen, 
 
 O'erpowered, and Pallas, whose united force 
 
 Hath crushed the Phrygians, quit the once famed towers
 
 THE TROJAN DAMES. 
 
 Of Ilium, and my altars : for when once 
 
 Wide through a city desolation spreads, 
 
 The hallowed rites, the worship of the gods 
 
 Must be neglected. Now with loud laments 
 
 Of captive dames to their new lords assigned 
 
 Scamander's banks resound : th' Arcadian some, 
 
 Some the Thessalian bands, and some the sons 
 
 Of Theseus, chiefs of Athens, as decides 
 
 The lot, obtain. Beneath this roof are those 
 
 Of Troy's unhappy daughters by no lot 
 
 Disposed, but to the leaders of the host 
 
 Selected ; these among, by righteous doom 
 
 A captive led, the Spartan Helena. 
 
 And Hecuba, if any wish to see 
 
 Her and her wretched state, before the gates 
 
 Lies stretched, and pours an ample flood of tears ; 
 
 And she hath ample cause, for at the tomb 
 
 Raised to Achilles hath her daughter died, 
 
 How piteously ! the poor Polyxena ; 
 
 Priam is fall'n, her sons are fall'n ; and her, 
 
 Cassandra, whom the royal Phcebus gave 
 
 To rove a virgin, and declare the fates, 
 
 To secret nuptials Agamemnon leads 
 
 Perforce, religion and the gods despised. 
 
 But, O my town once flourishing, once crowned 
 
 With beauteous-structured battlements, farewell 1 
 
 Had not Minerva sunk thee in the dust, 
 
 On thy firm base e'en now thou mightst have stood. 
 
 NEPTUNE, MINERVA. 
 
 MIN. Is it permitted me, all former thoughts 
 Of variance laid aside, t' address a god 
 Nearest by lineage to my sire allied, 
 Of mighty power, and honoured by the gods ? 
 
 NEPT. It is permitted thee: for kindred blood, 
 Royal Minerva, hath a potent charm 
 To reconcile the alienated mind. 
 
 MIN. Thy gentleness in anger claims my praise. 
 What I would offer, king, imports us both.
 
 248 EURIPIDES. 
 
 NEPT. Hast thou of new aught from the gods to speak, 
 From Jove, or other of the heavenly powers ? 
 
 MlN. No : for the sake of Troy I to thy power 
 Am come, to use it in one common cause. 
 
 NEPT. Dost thou, thy former hostile thoughts appeased, 
 Pity its ruins blazing in the flames ? 
 
 MlN. First speak to this : wilt thou with joint design, 
 Joint labour, aid in what I wish to do ? 
 
 NEPT. Most willingly: but wish to know thy purpose, 
 If to the Trojans friendly, or to Greece. 
 
 MlN. The Trojans hated once, would I delight, 
 To th' Argive host embittering their return. 
 
 NEPT. Why have thy measures this quick change, in love 
 Or hate, whiche'er betides, too violent ? 
 
 MIN. Me knowst thou not how outraged, and my shrine ? 
 
 NEPT. I know : Cassandra Ajax dragged by force. 
 
 MlN. Nor punished by the Grecians, nor reproved. 
 
 NEPT. Yet by thy power these Grecians wasted Troy. 
 
 MIN. Therefore with thee I now would work them woe. 
 
 NEPT. Thy purpose finds me prompt : what wouldst thou do? 
 
 MlN. With rig'rous vengeance sadden their return. 
 
 NEPT. On land, or when they plough the briny wave? 
 
 MIN. When o'er the deep they steer their course for Greece, 
 The stormy rain, the fierce-descending hail, 
 And the dark fury of tempestuous winds 
 My sire will send: to me, his word is passed, 
 His fiery thunder will he give, to hurl 
 Against the Grecians, and with lightning flames 
 To burn their ships. Do thou, for thine the power, 
 With foaming billows vast and whirling gulfs 
 Tempest the vexed ^Egean ; with their dead 
 Fill the Euboean bay : that they may learn 
 Henceforth with reverence to approach my shrines, 
 And pay due honours to the other gods. 
 
 NEPT. It shall be so : few words this favour needs. 
 With tempests will I chafe th' ^igean sea ; 
 The shores of Mycone, the Delian rocks, 
 Scyrus, and Lemnus, and the ruuged brow 
 Of steep Caphareus shall with numerous dead
 
 THE TROJAN DAMES. 249 
 
 Be covered. But to high Olympus go, 
 The bolts of thunder from thy father's hands 
 Receive : then wait till they unmoor their fleet. 
 Unwise is he, whoe'er of mortals storms 
 Beleaguered towns, and crushed in ruins wastes 
 The temples of the gods, the hallowed tombs 
 Where sleep the dead ; for he shall perish soon. 
 
 HEC. Rise, thou unhappy ; from the cold ground raise 
 Thy head, thy neck. This is no longer Troy, 
 In Troy we rule no longer. Ah the change 
 Of fortune ! Bear the change ; sail with the tide. 
 With fortune sail, nor turn the prow of life 
 Against the wave, nor struggle with thy fate. 
 Oh woe, woe, woe ! Why is it not allowed 
 A wretch like me to moan my country lost, 
 My children, and my husband ! Thou high boast 
 Of noble ancestry, how art thou shrunk, 
 How vanished ! What shall I in silence hold? 
 Or what not hold in silence? What bewail? 
 In what a woful state are these poor limbs 
 Reclined, how ill on this hnrd bed now stretched? 
 Ah me, my head 1 Ah me, my temples ! Ah, 
 My sides ! O how I long to change my place, 
 To roll, and roll, and shift from side to side, 
 Proofs of the restless torture of my mind ! 
 E'en here th' unhappy have a Muse, to give 
 These woes a voice, far other than the notes 
 To joy and dance attuned. Ye winged barks, . 
 Which through the purple seas and sheltered bays 
 Of Greece, whilst to the inauspicious sound 
 Of flutes and oaten pipes your oars kept time, 
 With all your streamers flying, proudly sailed 
 To sacred Ilium, to the ports of Troy 
 Bringing the hated wife of Menelaus, 
 A foul disgrace to Castor, and a stain 
 Dishonouring Eurotas. She hath slain 
 Priam, the reverend sire of fifty children, 
 And in this gulf of misery hath plunged 
 The wretched Hecuba. My seat is now
 
 250 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Ah, what a seat ! at Agamemnon's tent ; 
 
 And I am led, in my old age am led 
 
 A captive from my house, of its hoar hairs, 
 
 Sad argument of grief, this head despoiled. 
 
 But, O ye wretched wives of Trojans once 
 
 Valiant in war, ye virgins, and ye brides 
 
 Torn from your loves, Troy smokes : let us lament ; 
 
 And, as the parent bird that o'er her young 
 
 Swells her shrill notes, I will begin the strain, 
 
 Not such as in my happier days I raised, 
 
 Leaning on Priam's sceptre, when my foot 
 
 In Phrygian measures, by the Graces taught, 
 
 Led to th' immortal gods the festive dance. 
 
 HECUBA, CHORUS. 
 
 CHOR. Why, Hecuba, these cries, these cries of woe ? 
 Why dost thou raise these loud laments ? I hear 
 The waitings, which thou utterest, o'er these roofs 
 Resound ; and terror strikes each Trojan dame, 
 That in this tent bemoans her slavery. 
 
 HEC. O children, in the vessels of the Greeks 
 The hand now grasps the oar. O wretched me, 
 What will they do ? Will they with spreading sails 
 Far from my country bear my hapless age ? 
 CHOR. I know not ; but my mind presages ill. 
 Alas, alas, distracted with our woes, 
 Soon we shall hear, " Ye Trojan dames, come forth. 
 The Grecians are preparing their return." 
 
 HEC. Ah, send not now the mad Cassandra to me, 
 That shame to Greece : her ravings to my woe 
 Would add fresh woe. O Troy, unhappy Troy, 
 Thou art no more. Unhappy they who leave thee, 
 Unhappy are the living and the slain. 
 
 CHOR. Ah me ! With trembling foot I leave the tent 
 Of Agamemnon, from thee, queen, to learn 
 Whether the sentence of the Greeks be passed 
 To kill me, wretched me ; or in the ships 
 The sailors are prepared to plough the main.
 
 THE TROJAN DAMES. 251 
 
 HEC. Early, my child, my soul with terror struck, 
 Was I brought hither ; from the Grecians now 
 A herald comes informing me to whom 
 I am assigned ah wretched me ! a slave. 
 
 CHOR. Soon will thy lot be cast. 
 
 HEC. Ah me ! Ah me 1 
 
 CHOR. Me, miserable me, what Argive leads, 
 Or who of Phthia's vales, or of the isles 
 Encircled by the ocean, far from Troy ? 
 
 HEC. To whom am I, unhappy, in what land 
 Assigned a slave, useless, worn out with age, 
 The wretched form of one that is no more, 
 A lifeless image on a monument ? 
 To keep their gates will they assign my charge ? 
 Or on their children shall my office be 
 T' attend, at Troy with royal honours graced ? 
 
 CHOR. Ah, with what plaints thy miseries dost thou scan ? 
 
 HEC. No more these hands in the Idaean looms 
 The shuttle with alternate cast shall throw : 
 No more my children's sportive youth I see ; 
 Nor, as in youth, shall I to lighter toils 
 Be destined, or approach some Grecian's bed : 
 The night itself and fortune cheerless frowns. 
 But at Pirene's fount shall be my task, 
 My wretched task, to draw its sacred streams. 
 
 CHOR. Oh, to that happy country might we come, 
 O'er which th' illustrious Theseus held his reign ! 
 
 HEC. But never to Therapnae, hated town 
 Of Helen, seated where Eurotas whirls 
 His eddying stream ; exposed my servile state 
 To Menelaus, who wasted sacred Troy. 
 The lovely tract, through which Peneus flows, 
 Delightful base, from which his awful height 
 Olympus rears, in wealth, so fame reports, 
 Abounds, and boasts its blooming fruitfulness. 
 This, next the honoured and divine domains 
 Where Theseus reigned, would be most pleasing to me. 
 Much have I heard of the ;Etna:an coast 
 Sacred to Vulcan, to the Punic shore
 
 252 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Thnt rises opposite, the mighty mother 
 Of the Sicilian mountains, where the wreath 
 Blooms ever fresh ; and of the neighbouring land, 
 Sweet habitation in th' Ionian sea, 
 Irriguous with the beauteous-flowing stream 
 Of Crathis, which the yellow tresses gilds, 
 And blessings from its sacred fountains pours 
 Through a rich land, that boasts a generous race. 
 
 CHOR. But from the Grecian host a herald comes, 
 Fraught with fresh tidings : hasty is his step. 
 What brings he ? what announces ? For in truth 
 We of the Dorian land e'en now are slaves. 
 
 TALTHYBIUS, HECUBA, CHORUS. 
 
 TALT. Thou, Hecuba, hast seen Talthybius oft 
 In Troy, a herald from the Grecian host 
 In frequent intercourse : but no.v to thee, 
 In past time not unknown, I come, and bring 
 The public mandate, which concerns you all. 
 
 HEC. This, this, my friends, ye dames of Troy, long 
 
 since 
 This was my fear. 
 
 TALT. You are by lot assigned, 
 
 If this was what you feared. 
 
 HEC. Alas, alas ! 
 
 To what Thessalian, or what Phthian town, 
 Or to Cadmasan Thebes ? I pray thee tell me. 
 
 TALT. Singly to single chiefs are you allotted, 
 And not together all. 
 
 HEC. To whom, to whom 
 
 Am I appointed, say. What happy fate 
 Awaits each Trojan dame ? 
 
 TALT. I can inform thee : 
 
 But singly ask of each, not all at once. 
 
 HEC. The poor Cassandra, my unhappy daughter, 
 Where falls her lot ? 
 
 TALT. Her, a selected prize, 
 
 The royal Agamemnon hath received.
 
 THE TROJAN DAMES. 253 
 
 HEC. What ! For his Spartan spouse a slave ? Ah me ! 
 
 TALT. No : but in secret to the nuptial bed. 
 
 HEC. The virgin of Apollo, whom the god 
 Radiant with golden locks allowed to live 
 In her pure vow of maiden chastity ! 
 
 TALT With love the raptured virgin smote his heart. 
 
 HEC Cast from thee, O my daughter, cast away 
 Thy sacred wand, rend off the honoured wreaths, 
 The splendid ornaments that grace thy brows. 
 
 TALT. Is it not great to share a monarch's bed ? 
 
 HEC. But where is she, whom late you took from me, 
 Where is my daughter ? 
 
 TALT. Of Polyxena, 
 
 Or of whom else is this inquiry made ? 
 
 HEC. To whom is she allotted? 
 
 TALT. At the tomb 
 
 Raised to Achilles it is hers to serve. 
 
 HEC. Unhappy me ! Have I brought forth a child 
 Doomed at a tomb to serve ? But tell me, friend. 
 What custom or what rite of Greece is this ? 
 
 TALT. Pronounce her happy : all with her is well. 
 
 HEC. What mean thy words ? Views she the sun's bright 
 beams ? 
 
 TALT. Her doth fate hold from every ill released. 
 
 HEC. What of Andromache, the wretched wife 
 Of helme'd Hector ? Tell me what her fate ? 
 
 TALT. Her without lot Achilles' son receives. 
 
 HEC. And I, whose age-enfeebled limbs require 
 A staff, to whom am I assigned a slave ? 
 
 TALT. Thee hath Ulysses, king of Ithaca, 
 By lot obtained : to him thou art a slave. 
 
 HEC. Ah, let me beat this head, and rend these cheeks. 
 O miserable me ! I am enslaved 
 To a detested, an insidious foe, 
 A creeping viper, who with baleful bite 
 Impoisons justice ; one, whose double tongue 
 With glozing arguments from side to side 
 All things perverts, and turns to hostile hate 
 What was before most friendly. Mourn for me,
 
 254 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Ye Trojan dames, "for I am wretched, sunk 
 To the most abject fortune, woe is me, 
 Totally sunk by this ill-fated lot. 
 
 CHOR. Thy fortune, venerable queen, I know ; 
 But mine what Argive or what Greek commands ? 
 
 TALT. Go, ye attendants ; with what speed you' may 
 Conduct Cassandra hither ; I must give her 
 To the king's hand. The other captives then, 
 Each as allotted, lead to their new lords. 
 But what is this ? Why flames the blazing torch 
 Within ? What mean these Trojan dames ? To fire 
 The inmost tent ? that, since the hour draws nigh 
 When from this land they must perforce be borne 
 To Argos, they may perish in the flames, 
 Seeking to die ; ill brooks th' excessive love 
 Of freedom woes like these. Open these doors, 
 Open, lest what to these may give delight, 
 And grief to Greece, may to my blame be charged. 
 
 HEC. It is not so ; they raise no flames; but forth 
 My frentic child, Cassandra, rushes to us. 
 
 CASSANDRA, HECUBA, TALTHYBIUS, CHORUS. 
 
 CASS. Wave the torch, and spread its light ; 
 Thus_ I bear it blazing bright, 
 Rev'rence and illume the shrine ; 
 Royal Hymen, it is thine. 
 See, the happy bridegroom see, 
 And the happy bride in me : 
 At Argos I shall mount the nuptial bed, 
 Royal Hymen, by thee led. 
 Since thy tears, my mother, flow, 
 And thy heart is rent with woe, 
 For my slaughtered father's fate, 
 And my country's ruined state, 
 At my spousals I will raise 
 A fire shall shine, shall flame, shall blaze, 
 And, royal Hymen, on the bridal night 
 Give to Hecate the light,
 
 THE TROJAN DAMES. 255 
 
 For a virgin's nuptial bands ; 
 
 Sacred custom this demands. 
 
 Nimbly let your feet advance, 
 
 Quiv'ring high in festive dance, 
 
 As if Priam's prosperous throne 
 
 Bright with royal splendours shone. 
 
 The choir is hallowed : with them, Phcebus, move : 
 
 In thy sacred laurel grove 
 
 Off 'rings at thy shrine I lay, 
 
 H\men, 'tis my bridal day. 
 
 Lead the dance, my mother, lead, 
 
 Quick in varying motions tread, 
 
 And, my gliding steps to grace, 
 
 Light the mazy measure trace. 
 
 To royal Hymen raise, O hallowed train, 
 
 Raise the joy-announcing strain ; 
 
 Hail the bride with songs of joy, 
 
 Gorgeous-vested nymphs of Troy ; 
 
 Hail the bridegroom, to my bed 
 
 By the Fates' appointment led. 
 
 CHOR. Wilt thou not, queen, thy raving daughter hold, 
 That she appear not 'midst the host of Greece 
 Possessed with this indecent levity ? 
 
 HEC. O Vulcan, thou indeed the nuptial torch 
 Of mortals bearest, but a baleful flame 
 Dost thou now wave, and void of each fond hope. 
 Alas, my daughter, little did I think 
 That ever thou shouldst wed beneath the spear, 
 Beneath the arms of Greece ! Give me the torch ; 
 111 it beseems thee frentic thus, with step 
 Thus wild, to bear its flame : nor to thy mind 
 Have thy misfortunes brought more sober sense ; 
 But, my poor child, thy state remains the same. 
 Bear in the torches ; and, ye Trojan dames, 
 For tears exchange her nuptial melody. 
 
 CASS. Mother, adorn my head ; for I have gained 
 A conquest : in my nuptials with a king 
 Rejoice. Come, lead me. If I go too slow, 
 Push me by force ; for this is not Apollo.
 
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 Th' illustrious Agamemnon, king of Greece, 
 
 Weds me ; but in these nuptials he shall find 
 
 More woe than Paris when he wedded Helen ; 
 
 For I will kill him, and lay waste his house ; 
 
 Thus for my brothers' and my father's death 
 
 I will have vengeance : but no words of this : 
 
 I will say nothing of the axe, which goes 
 
 Into my ne,ck, and that of others too ; 
 
 Nor of the contest where a mother bleeds 
 
 (This shall my nuptials raise) ; nor of the house 
 
 Of Atreus sunk in ruins : I will show 
 
 This city than the Grecians far more blest 
 
 ( I feel th' inspiring god, but will awhile 
 
 Bid the prophetic fury cease to swell) : 
 
 They for one woman, and one fatal bed 
 
 Sought Helen, and lost thousands ; their wise chief 
 
 Himself, to gain what most the soul abhors, 
 
 Hath thrown away what most it loves, and given 
 
 The sweet domestic pleasures of his children 
 
 To win his brother's wife ; yet was she borne 
 
 Consentingly, not forcibly away. 
 
 When to Scamander's banks they came, they died ; 
 
 Nor from their country, or its high-tow'red towns, 
 
 Were they driven forth : those whom the sword destroyed 
 
 Their children saw no more, nor were their limbs 
 
 By their wives' hands in decent vestments wrapt, 
 
 But in a foreign land they lie. At home 
 
 Like desolation reigns : their widowed wives 
 
 Are dead ; their parents, childless, have in vain 
 
 Reared offspring in their houses ; not a son 
 
 Survives to pour libations at their tombs. 
 
 Such are the triumphs of this martial host. 
 
 Deeds of impurity are better hushed 
 
 In silence: never Muse be mine, to chaunt 
 
 What raises on the modest cheek a blush. 
 
 The Trojans, what is glory's brightest grace, 
 
 Died for their country : they, beneath the spear 
 
 Who fell, were by their friends borne home, and dead
 
 THE TROJAN DAMES. 257 
 
 Found in their native land a sepulchre, 
 
 Entombed by those from whom those rites were due. 
 
 But such, as fell not in the field, each day 
 
 Dwelt with their wives and children; whilst the Greeks 
 
 Were strangers to that sweet society. 
 
 Mournful the fate of Hector seems to thce : 
 
 But weigh it well : he dies, among the brave 
 
 Esteemed the bravest ; this high fame the Greeks 
 
 By their arrival raised ; had they not come 
 
 The hero's virtues had remained obscure. 
 
 Paris espoused the daughter of high Jove ; 
 
 Had she not been his bride, he would at home 
 
 Have formed some mean alliance, unrenowned. 
 
 War then the man, whom prudence rules, will shun : 
 
 But if its flames are kindled, no mean crown 
 
 He wins who bravely for his country dies : 
 
 Not to act bravely is inglorious shame. 
 
 Therefore behoves thee, mother, not to wail 
 
 Thy country, or my bed ; for those to thee 
 
 Whose deeds have been most hostile, and to me, 
 
 I by my nuptials to the dust will bow. 
 
 CHOR. How sweetly at thy house's ills thou smilest, 
 Chaunting what haply thou wilt not show true ! 
 
 TALT. But that Apollo hath with frenzy hurt 
 Thy sense, unpunished with such taunting speech 
 Thou shouldst not from this country send the chiefs. 
 But what commands respect, and is held high 
 As wise, is nothing better than the mean 
 Of no repute : for this most potent king 
 Of all the Grecians, the much honoured son 
 Of Atreus, is enamoured with his prize, 
 This frentic raver. I am a poor man, 
 Yet would I not receive her to my bed. 
 For thee, since thou hast not thy perfect sense, 
 All thy reproaches on the Greeks and all 
 Thy praises of the Trojans, to the winds 
 I give to scatter them. But to the ships 
 Attend me, beauteous minion of our chief.
 
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 Thou, since Ulysses wills to lead thee with him, 
 Follow ; a virtuous lady shalt thou serve, 
 As they, who came to Ilium, speak her fame. 
 
 CASS. This is a busy slave. What one name suits 
 All heralds ? The abhorrence of mankind, 
 Ye ministers of tyrants and of states, 
 And dost thou say that to Ulysses' house 
 My mother shall be led ? Where are the words 
 Of Phosbus then, which say, by me made known, 
 Here she shall die ? The rest revile I not : 
 But he, unhappy, knows not what a train 
 Of suff rings waits him, so that he shall deem 
 Mine and the Phrygians' ills, with his compared, 
 Treasures of gold : for after ten long years 
 To ten long years here wasted, he shall reach 
 His native land alone ; but visit first 
 The straits, amidst whose gulfs, that now disgorge 
 And now resorb the floods, Chary bdis holds 
 Her terrible abode ; the blood-stained cave 
 Of the huge Cyclops, mountain savage, gorged 
 With flesh where life yet quivers ; Circe's isle, 
 Whose charmed cup transforms whoever taste 
 To swine ; tempestuous seas with wrecks o'erspread ; 
 Men in the flow'ry Lotus who delight ; 
 The sacred heifers of the sun, whose flesh 
 Shall send forth lowings, to Ulysses sound 
 Of horror : to be brief, to Pluto's realms 
 Alive shall he descend : and from the waves 
 Escaped, returning to his country find 
 A thousand ills. But why repeat the toils 
 That wait Ulysses ? Go, that I with speed 
 May wed a bridegroom in the shades below. 
 Thou, who in thought some glorious deed art now 
 Achieving, leader of the Grecian host, 
 Wretch, shall be buried wretchedly by night, 
 Not in the day ; and me, a livid corse, 
 Naked, cast out, the torrent floods shall leave 
 In their rough channels, nigh my bridegroom's tomb, 
 A prey to beasts, this priestess of Apollo.
 
 THE TROJAN DAMES. 259 
 
 Ye garlands of the gods, most dear to me, 
 
 Prophetic ornaments, farewell : the feasts, 
 
 In which I once delighted, are to me 
 
 No more. Begone ! I rend you from me. While 
 
 I yet am chaste, I give them to the winds, 
 
 To toss, to scatter them, prophetic king ! 
 
 Where is the leader's bark? How shall my foot 
 
 Mount its tall sides ? No longer shall thy sails 
 
 Wait for the breathing gales ; but thou shalt bear me 
 
 A Fury, an Erinnys, from this land. 
 
 Farewell, my mother ! Do not shed a tear. 
 
 my loved country, O my brother, sunk 
 To the dark realms below, O father soon 
 Shall you receive me ; to your shades I come 
 Triumphant from the ruin of the house 
 
 Of Atreus, by whose sons we thus are fall'n ! 
 
 HECUBA, CHORUS. 
 
 CHOR. Ye, who attend the aged Hecuba, 
 Behold you not the queen, how to the ground 
 Speechless she sinks ? Shall not your hands with care 
 Support her ? Wretches, will you let her age 
 Lie on the earth ? Haste, raise her, upright raise her. 
 
 HEC. Forbear, ye virgins ; what was pleasing once 
 Pleases no more : here let me lie thus fall'n, 
 A fall that suits what I have suffered, what 
 
 1 suffer, and shall suffer. O ye gods, 
 Unkind associates I indeed invoke, 
 
 Yet when affliction rends the anguished heart, 
 We with becoming grace invoke the gods. 
 First it is pleasing to me to recount 
 My happier fortunes : thus my woes shall raise 
 A stronger pity. Royal was my birth, 
 And marriage joined me to a royal house ; 
 There I was mother of illustrious sons, 
 Sons with superior excellence adorned 
 Above the Phrygians ; such no Trojan dame, 
 No Grecian, no Barbarian e'er could boast : 
 
 I 2
 
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 These I saw fall'n beneath the Grecian spear, 
 And laid my severed tresses on their tomb. 
 For Priam too, their father, flowed my tears ; 
 His fate I heard not from report, but saw it, 
 These eyes beheld him murdered at the altar 
 Of guardian Jove ; my vanquished city stormed ; 
 My daughters, whom I nurtured high in hope 
 Of choosing honourable nuptials for them, 
 For others nurtured from my hands are rent ; 
 There is no hope that me they e'er shall see, 
 And I shall never see them more. Th' extreme, 
 The height of my afflicting ills is this : 
 I to some house shall go a hoary slave, 
 To some base task, most irksome to my age, 
 Assigned ; or at their doors to keep the keys 
 A portress shall I wait, the mother once 
 Of Hector, or to labour at the mill ; 
 For royal couches, on the ground to make 
 My rugged bed ; and o'er these worn-out limbs 
 The tattered remnant of a worn-out robe, 
 Unseemly to my happier state, to throw. 
 Ah, for one woman's nuptial bed, what woes 
 Are mine, and will be mine ! Alas, my child, 
 My poor Cassandra, madd'ning with the gods, 
 By what misfortunes is thy purity 
 Defiled ? And where art thou, Polyxena, 
 O thou unhappy ! Thus of all my sons 
 And all my daughters, many though they were, 
 Not one is left to soothe my miseries. 
 Why do you raise me, virgins ? With what hope 
 Lead you this foot, which once with stately port 
 In Troy advanced, but now a slave, to seek 
 A bed of leaves strewn on the ground, a stone 
 My pillow, there to lie, to perish there 
 Wasted with tears ? Then deem not of the great 
 Now flourishing as happy, ere they die.
 
 THE TROJAN DAMES. 261 
 
 CHORUS. 
 Strophe. 
 
 For Troy, O Muse, attune thy woe, 
 And steep in tears the solemn -breathing song; 
 
 To such a theme such notes belong : 
 For Troy unwonted measures now shall flow, 
 
 Shall tell my sorrows, how beneath 
 
 The guileful fabric, big with death, 
 I fell a captive to the Argive spear :. 
 
 When from tlV enormous beast, that hides 
 
 A host within its caverned sides, 
 
 With golden trappings hung around, 
 
 Rolled to the gates with thund'ring sound, 
 Issuing in arms the chiefs of Greece appear. 
 
 But from the rock of Ilium high 
 
 With shouts the blinded Phrygians cry, 
 " Go, from your toils released, ye sons of Troy. 
 
 This hallowed fabric draw with joy : 
 To Jove-born Pallas place the pledge divine 
 
 In favoured Ilium's rampired shrine." 
 
 The young, the old promiscuous throng, 
 And roll with songs of joy the fraudful pest along. 
 
 Antistrophe. 
 
 From every street with eager pace, 
 The pines of Ida flaming in their hands, 
 
 Rush to the gates the Trojan bands, 
 To Pallas in her favoured tower to place 
 
 The fabric formed with Argive wiles, 
 
 The pest which Phrygia's state beguiles, 
 The heaven-framed present of the unyoked steed : 
 
 With twisted cables thrown around 
 
 They drag it o'er the fatal ground, 
 
 Like a new bark in gallant state, 
 
 To Pallas in her rocky seat. 
 To toil nnd joy the shades of night succeed :
 
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 The Libyan pipe swells clear and high, 
 
 Attuned to Phrygian melody ; 
 To the light notes in many an airy round 
 
 The frolic virgins nimbly bound, 
 And joyful as they dance their voices raise, 
 
 Sweet warbling spritely-fancied lays. 
 
 In every house the blazing fires 
 Sink at the hour of rest, and their swart light expires. 
 
 Epode. 
 
 Then too my vaulted roofs around 
 
 The voice of joy was heard to sound ; 
 
 We to Diana raised the strain, 
 Chaste huntress-queen that leads the mountain train. 
 
 Sudden a wild tumultuous roar 
 With shudd'ring horror strikes our souls : 
 
 Loud and more loud the city o'er 
 
 To Pergamus it deep'ning rolls : 
 My dear, dear infants round their mother prest, 
 
 And grasped with trembling hands my vest. 
 
 Now, by Minerva's guardian care, 
 Rushed from its ambush the imprisoned war : 
 
 Round ihe polluted altars slain 
 
 In blood are rolled the sons of Troy : 
 
 O'er the rich rooms, once scenes of joy, 
 
 Horror and desolation reign, 
 And bear to Greece, her victor sons t' adorn, 
 
 The crown from weeping Phrygia borne. 
 
 HECUBA, ANDROMACHE, CHORUS. 
 
 CHOR. See, royal lady, on this foreign car 
 Andromache is borne ; and at her breast, 
 Which trembles to the motion of the wheels, 
 Astyanax, the son of Hector, laid. 
 
 HEC. Whither, unhappy woman, art thou borne, 
 Placed in that car beside the brazen arms
 
 THE TROJAN DAMES. 263 
 
 Of Hector, and the spoils by the strong spear 
 Rent from the Phrygians ? Distant far from Troy 
 In Phthia these the proud son of Achilles 
 Shall hang, to crown the temples of the gods. 
 
 ANDR. My Grecian lords force me away. 
 
 HEC. Ah me ! 
 
 ANDR. Why dost thou heave my sighs ? 
 
 HEC. Ah wretched me ! 
 
 ANDR. That for my sorrows 
 
 HEC. Seest thou this, O Jove ! 
 
 ANDR. And my distresses rise. 
 
 HEC. Alas, my children I 
 
 ANDR. We were thy children once. 
 
 HEC. My state is fall'n ; 
 
 Troy too is fall'n. 
 
 ANDR. Unhappy ! 
 
 HEC. And my sons, 
 
 My noble sons are fall'n. 
 
 ANDR. Alas, alas ! 
 
 HEC. Alas my ills, the miserable fate 
 
 ANDR. Of ruined Troy. 
 
 HEC. Which smokes upon the- ground. 
 
 ANDR. Oh, wouldst thou come, my husband ! 
 
 HEC. Thou dost call 
 
 My son, unhappy, in the realms below ! 
 
 ANDR. Thou bulwark of thy wife ! 
 
 HEC. And thou, whose soul 
 
 Swelled high against the Grecians, Priam, once 
 The aged father of my children, lead, 
 O lead me to the gloomy realms below ! 
 
 CHOR. These griefs are great. 
 
 HEC. And dreadful are the ills 
 
 We suffer. 
 
 CHOR. For thy ruined country : woes, 
 Such is the pleasure of the gods, succeed 
 To woes. Nor hath thy son escaped from death, 
 Who for a bed abhorred hath sunk in dust 
 The towers of Troy, and near the rampired rock 
 Of Pallas stretched the bodies of the slain,
 
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 Welt'ring in blood, by vultures to be torn : 
 And Troy is bowed beneath the servile yoke. 
 
 HEC. My country, my unhappy country, thee 
 Wasted I weep. 
 
 CHOR. Thou seeat its wretched end. 
 
 HEC. And thee my house, where oft I was a mother. 
 
 CHOR. Unhappy children, wasted is your town, 
 Your mother desolate. 
 
 HEC. What strains are these, 
 
 What strains of woe ! Tears after tears stream down 
 In sorrow for my house : the dead forgets 
 His sorrows, and his tears stream down no more. 
 
 CHOR. How sweet are tears to those who suffer ills ? 
 Sweet are the strains of lamentation, sweet 
 The. mournful Muse that tunes her notes to \voe. 
 
 AN DR. Mother of Hector, that brave chief, whose spear 
 Once pierced the Grecian squadrons, seest thou this? 
 
 HEC. I see th' appointment of the gods ; the low 
 How they exalt, and hurl the mighty down. 
 
 ANDR. I, with my child, am led away, the spoil 
 Of war : th' illustrious progeny of kings, 
 O fatal change, is sunk to slavery. 
 
 HEC. Necessity is rig'rous: from me late 
 Cassandra went, torn from my arms by force. 
 
 ANDR. Alas ! Another Ajax then, it seems, 
 Thy daughter finds : but thou hast other ills. 
 
 HEC. Unmeasured and unnumbered are my ills: 
 Afflictions with afflictions still contend. 
 
 ANDR. Polyxena, thy daughter, is no more: 
 Devoted to Achilles, on his tomb 
 An off ring to the lifeless dead she fell. 
 
 HEC. Ah wretched me i This was the dread event 
 Talthybius hinted to me in dark terms. 
 
 ANDR. I saw her, and descending from this car 
 Wrapt the vests round her, and bewailed her dead. 
 
 HEC. Alas, my daughter, what unhallowed rites! 
 Alas, alas ! unseemly hast thou perished. 
 
 ANDR. She perished, as she perished : but her fate 
 In death is happier far than mine who live.
 
 THE TROJAN DAMES. 265 
 
 HEC. 'Tis not one thing, my child, to live or die : 
 The living hopes await, the dead are nothing. 
 
 ANDR. Hear, that with pleasure I may touch thy soul- 
 Not to be born, I argue, and to die, 
 Are equal : but to die is better far 
 Than to live wretched ; for he knows not grief 
 Who hath no sense of misery : but to fall 
 From fortune's blessed height, to the low state 
 Of abject wretchedness, distracts the soul 
 With the keen sense of former happiness. 
 Like as the light of life she ne'er had seen, 
 Polyxena is dead, and of her ills 
 Knows nothing : I, who aimed at glorious rank, 
 And reached my aim, from fortune widely erred : 
 All that to prudent matrons gives a grace, 
 In Hector's house was ever my employ. 
 First, for in this to women blame is due, 
 Charged or not charged, to such as rove abroad, 
 I checked this wand'ring humour, and remained 
 At home, within my house ; nor gay discourse 
 Of females there admitted, but intent 
 On ordering what was useful, deemed myself 
 Well occupied. With silence of the tongue 
 And cheerfulness of look I entertained 
 My husband : where my province to command 
 I knew, and where to yield obedience to him. 
 The fame of this was bruited through the host 
 Of Greece, and wrought my ruin ; for the son 
 Of fierce Achilles, soon as I was made 
 A captive, wished to take me as his wife, 
 Doomed in the house of those, whose slaught'ring hands 
 I rue, to be a slave. From my fond heart 
 Could I rend Hector, and expand my breast 
 To this new husband, faithless to the dead 
 Should I appear : if I disdain his love, 
 I shall excite the malice of my lords. 
 Short time, they say, to a new lord disarms 
 A woman's hate : but her my soul abhors, 
 Who for new nuptials slights her former husband,
 
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 And loves another : e'en the social steed, 
 Divided from its fellow, draws the yoke 
 Reluctant ; yet the beast, by nature formed 
 Less excellent, nor speech nor reason knows. 
 O my loved Hector, I was blest in thee, . 
 Thou wast the lord of all my wishes, great 
 In understanding, noble birth, and wealth, 
 And valour : from my father's house thou first 
 Ledd'st me a virgin to the bridal bed : 
 Now thou are perished, and I mount the bark 
 For Greece, a captive to the servile yoke. 
 Hath not the death then of Polyxena, 
 Whom thou bewailest, lighter ills than mine ! 
 For not to me e'en Hope, which still is left 
 To all of mortal race, remains ; no thought 
 That better fortune e'er will visit me 
 With pleasing expectation cheats my mind. 
 
 CHOR. Alike our suffrings; and thou teachest me, 
 Thine own ills wailing, my unhappy state. 
 
 HEC. I never entered bark; my knowledge springs 
 From what in picture I have seen, or heard 
 From others. When a storm, whose moderate force 
 May be sustained, the curling billows swells, 
 With prompt alacrity the sailors toil 
 To guide the vessel safe ; one at the helm 
 His station takes, one tends the sails, one plies 
 The pump : but if the wild tempestuous sea 
 Mocks their vain efforts, they to fortune yield, 
 And leave her to the rolling of the waves. 
 So fares it now with me : with various ills 
 Encompassed I am silent, give them way, 
 And check my vain complaints ; for from the gods 
 This cruel storm o'erpowers me. But do thou, 
 O my loved child, on Hector's fate no more 
 Fix thy sad thoughts ; not all thy streaming tears 
 Will save him : honour then thy present lord, 
 And with thy gentle manners win his soul ; 
 This doing, thou shalt cheer thy friends, and train 
 This child, my Hector's son, to manhood, strong
 
 THE TROJAN DAMES. 267 
 
 To succour Troy ; that sons from him may spring, 
 Who shall again the towers of Ilium raise, 
 And once more to its state restore the town. 
 But trouble yet perchance from trouble springs ; 
 This Grecian officer I see again 
 Advancing to us, bearing new commands. 
 
 TALTHYBIUS, HECUBA, ANDROMACHE, CHORUS. 
 
 TALT. Thou wiie of Hector, of the Phrygians once 
 The bravest, do not hate me : for my tongue 
 Unwillingly will utter what the Greeks 
 Decree and the Pelopidae command. 
 
 ANDR. Why with this tragic proem dost thou greet me ? 
 
 TALT. It is decreed thy son how shall I speak it ! 
 
 ANDR. What ? that he have not the same lord with me ? 
 
 TALT. None of the Grecians e'er shall be his lord. 
 
 ANDR. To leave him here, a relic of the Trojans ? 
 
 TALT. I cannot utter, but with pain, thy ills. 
 
 ANDR. I praise thy modest awe, speak thou but good. 
 
 TALT. This great ill thou must know : they slay thy son. 
 
 ANDR. This than my marriage is a greater ill. 
 
 TALT. Ulysses 'midst th' assembled Greeks prevails. 
 
 ANDR. Ah, these are ills too grievous to be borne. 
 
 TALT. Not to bring up a valiant warrior's son. 
 
 ANDR. Thus for his own sons may his voice prevail ! 
 
 TALT. But that they cast him from the towers of Troy. 
 In this sad trial be thy prudence shown : 
 Withhold him not, with noble fortitude 
 Support thy griefs : nor think that thou hast power, 
 Where all thou canst is nothing. Thou canst find 
 No succour : it behoves thee weigh this well. 
 Low lies thy city, low thy husband lies, 
 Thou art a captive : we have force enough 
 Against one woman. Wish not then to strive ; 
 Let no indecent, no despiteful deed 
 Dishonour thee. Nor would I have thee vent 
 Thy curses on the Greeks ; for shouldst thou speak 
 What shall disgust the troops, thy son perchance
 
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 May lie unpitied, and denied the rites 
 Of sepulture : but if thou bear thine ills 
 In silence and with fortitude, his corse 
 Will not be left unburied, and ihyself 
 Wilt from the Grecians find more courtesy. 
 
 ANDR. O my dear child, my fondly cherished son, 
 Thou by the foes shalt die, ah me ! and leave 
 Thy wretched mother. Yes, thy father's worth 
 Shall kill thee, which to others is a shield 
 Yielding protection. In an evil hour 
 For thee thy father's virtues are renowned. 
 
 my unhappy bed, and nuptial rites, 
 Which led me to the house of Hector, there 
 Not to be mother of a son to fall 
 
 A victim by the Grecians, but to reign 
 Lord of the fruitful Asia ! Dost thou weep, 
 My son ? Hast thou a sense of thy ill fate ? 
 Why dost thou clasp me with thy hands, why hold 
 My robes, and shelter thee beneath my wings 
 Like a young bird ? No more my Hector comes 
 Returning from the tomb, he grasps no more 
 His glitt'ring spear, bringing protection to thee 
 No more thy father's kindred, or the force 
 Of the brave Phrygians: but from Ilium's height, 
 By merciless hands hurled headlong, shalt thou fall, 
 And crushed breathe out thy life. O soft embrace, 
 Arid to thy mother dear ! O fragrant breath ! 
 In vain I swathed thy infant limbs, in vain 
 
 1 save thee nurture at this breast, and toiled 
 Wasted with care. If ever, now embrace, 
 Now clasp thy mother, throw thine arms around 
 My neck, and join thy cheek, thy lips to mine. 
 Why, O ye Grecians, studying barb'rous ills, 
 
 Why will you kill my son ? He hath not wronged you. 
 
 Daughter of Tyndarus, but not of Jove, 
 
 From many fathers must I deem thee sprung, 
 
 From Vengeance first, then Hate, from Slaughter, Death, 
 
 And all the ills earth breeds : for ne'er from Jove 
 
 Durst I pronounce thy birth. Thou fatal pest
 
 THE TROJAN DAMES. 269 
 
 To many Phrygians, and to many Greeks, 
 
 Perdition seize thee ! By thy beauteous eyes 
 
 Thou vilely hast destroyed the realms of Troy. 
 
 Here, take him, bear him, hurl him from the height, 
 
 If ye must hurl him, feast upon his flesh : 
 
 For from the gods hath ruin fall'n on us : 
 
 We have no power to save my child from death. 
 
 Cover this wretched body, wrap it close, 
 
 Cast it into your galley ; for I come 
 
 To glorious nuptials, having lost my son. 
 
 CHOR. Unhappy Troy, what numbers hast thou lost, 
 Through one vile woman, and her hateful bed ! 
 
 ANDR. Forbear, my son, forbear thy fond embrace 
 Of thy afflicted mother. Go, ascend 
 The summit of those towers, thy father's once, 
 There leave thy life, for so hath Greece decreed. 
 Take him fit herald of this deed is he, 
 Who knows no touch of pity or of shame, 
 But rather to your mandate gives assent. 
 
 HEC. O child, O son of my unhappy son, 
 We of thy life, beyond our thoughts, are reft, 
 I, and thy mother ! What can I, poor boy, 
 What can I do for thee, but smite this head, 
 And beat this breast ? That we can give thee, that 
 Is in our power. Ah me, what griefs for Troy 
 I suffer, what for thee ! Is there an ill 
 We have not ? What is wanting to the woes, 
 Which all the dreadful band of Ruin brings ? 
 
 HECUBA, CHORUS. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Strophe i. 
 
 Thou lord of Salamis, where love 
 The honey-gath'ring bees to rove, 
 Thou, who didst hold thy island-seat 
 Around whose rocks the billows beat, 
 Whose hallowed mounds first boast to show 
 Ranged down their sloping sides the olive bough,
 
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 Of blue-eyed Pallas heavenly crown, 
 And glory of her polished town : 
 Thou with Alcmena's son, whose hand 
 Grasped the strong bow, heldst high command. 
 
 Thy soul, like his, to glorious action bold, 
 To Troy, O Telamon, to Troy, 
 Our rampired city to destroy, 
 
 Thou camst, from Greece thou camst in times of old- 
 
 Antistrophe i. 
 
 When, raging for the steeds denied, 
 Of Greece he led the blooming pride ; 
 Where Simois pours his beauteous flood 
 The hero's barks at anchor stood ; 
 Dauntless he leaped upon the strand, 
 
 His bow and arrows grasping in his hand : 
 Laomedon with wild affright 
 
 Marked how they winged their slaught'ring flight. 
 Though Phoebus squared each polished stone, 
 The high-raised rampires are o'erthrown ; 
 
 Around the ruddy flames devouring rise, 
 And Troy a heap of ruin lies : 
 Twice raged the spear around her walls, 
 
 And twice with thund'ring sound the city falls. 
 
 Strophe 2. 
 
 In vain then at the golden bowls of Jove 
 Hast thou thy honoured place, 
 Thy steps composed with sweetest grace, 
 Presenting at the feast divine 
 To heaven's high king the sparkling wine ; 
 Vain, Dardan boy, thy glorious charge above ; 
 For war and wasting flames destroy, 
 Sunk to the ground, thy native Troy. 
 The sea-washed shores around 
 Loud cries and shrieks resound, 
 As for her young when the poor bird complains. 
 And anguish swells her strains :
 
 THE TROJAN DAMES. 271 
 
 Their husbands some, and some their sons deplore, 
 
 Their mothers some, with age that bow, 
 Lament with pious woe. 
 
 Thy brimmed baths are now no more, 
 
 A silent waste the circus lies, 
 Once thy loved scene of manly exercise, 
 
 But thou the throne of Jove beside, 
 
 Blooming in all youth's roseate pride, ... 
 
 Sweetly serene dost woo each grace 
 
 To give new beauties to thy face : 
 Yet Priam's realms lie waste, a desert drear, 
 Beneath the Grecian spear. 
 
 Antistrophe 2. 
 
 O Love, O Love, that to the seats of Troy, 
 
 Thy gently glowing fire 
 Kindling in heavenly breasts desire, 
 Didst once direct thy pleasing flight, 
 To what a splendid, stately height, 
 Whilst gods her dear alliance sought with joy, 
 Didst thou exalt her glorious fame ? 
 Now must thou bear another name 
 No more joy-kindling Love, 
 But the reproach of Jove. 
 This fatal morn, with silver-waving wings 
 
 Which light to mortals brings, 
 Hath seen destruction wide its ravage spread, 
 Hath seen the to\yers of Troy laid low 
 
 Beneath th' insulting foe : 
 With offspring yet to bless her bed 
 Her husband from this land she bore ; 
 The favoured youth yon orient regions o'er 
 Her four ethereal coursers bear, 
 Placed by her in the golden car. 
 Hence to thy country Hope might rise, 
 Graced with the favour of the skies : 
 But all the love, which touched the gods with joy, 
 Shrinks from the aid of Troy.
 
 272 EURIPIDES. 
 
 MENELAUS, HECUBA, CHORUS. 
 
 MEN. O thou bright-beaming radiance of this sun, 
 Helen in thee, my wife, these hands shall seize, 
 After the many toils I have sustained, 
 I, and the Grecian host. I came to Troy, 
 Not for a woman, as some lightly think, 
 But armed with vengeance ''gainst the man who broke 
 Each hospitable law, and from my house 
 Bore, as his spoil, my wife. But the just gods 
 He hath his meed, he and his country fallen 
 Beneath the arms of Greece. The Spartan dame, 
 For not with pleasure can my tongue pronounce 
 Her name who was my wife, once was, I come 
 To lead from hence : for in this tent, among 
 The other captive dames of Troy enrolled, 
 Is she detained. For they, whose toiling spear 
 Achieved her, have presented her to me 
 To kill her, or, if such my will, to Greece 
 Alive to lead her : but my purpose is 
 The death of Helen to forbear at Troy, 
 And bear her in my stout bark o'er the seas 
 To Greece ; and there, in vengeance for my friends 
 Who beneath Ilium died, to give her death. 
 But, ye attendants, go into the tent, 
 Bring her forth, drag her by the hair with blood 
 Deeply polluted : when the fav'ring winds 
 Breathe in our sails, to Greece shall she be sent. 
 
 HEC. O Jove, who rulest the rolling of the earth, 
 And o'er it hast thy throne, whoe'er thou art, 
 The ruling mind, or the necessity 
 Of nature, I adore thee. Dark thy ways 
 And silent are thy steps ; to mortal man 
 Yet thou with justice all things dost ordain. 
 
 MEN. Why to the gods dost thou renew thy vows ? 
 
 HEC. I praise thy resolution, Menelaus, 
 If thou shalt kill thy wife. But fly her sight : 
 She captivates the eyes of men, takes towns,
 
 THE TROJAN DAMES. 273 
 
 Sets houses all on fire ; such blandishments 
 She hath t' allure the soul ; I know her well, 
 Thou knowst her, and all they that suffer by her. 
 
 HELENA, MENELAUS, HECUBA, CHORUS. 
 
 HEL. This is a prelude which may well cause fear ; 
 For by thy servants, Menelaus, by force 
 I from the tent am dragged. But little wants 
 T' assure me that I am detested by thee. 
 Yet I would ask thee, by the states of Greece 
 And thee touching my life what is decreed. 
 ' MEN. Justice hath not pronounced fixed sentence on thee ; 
 But all the host of Greece, whom thou hast wronged, 
 Give thee to me, and thou by me shalt die. 
 
 HEL. May I have leave 'gainst this to urge my plea, 
 That, if I die, not justly I shall die ? 
 
 MEN. Not to hold converse came I, but to kill thee. 
 
 HEC. Yet hear her, Menelaus, nor let her die, 
 Her bland excuse not urged : but to her plea 
 Let me reply, for of the ills in Troy 
 Thou nothing knowst ; but when I sum them all, 
 From death no refuge shall be left to her. 
 
 MEN. This requires leisure ; yet if she would speak, 
 She is allowed : but let her know thy words 
 Gain her this leave ; no grace to her I grant. 
 
 HEL. Let me or well or ill appear to speak, 
 Thou no reply wilt haply deign me, deemed [/# MENELAUS] 
 An enemy : yet to the crime, of which 
 I know thou wilt accuse me, I will make \Jo HELENA] 
 Reply, and to thy charge my pleas oppose, 
 'Gainst thee my charge. She first, then, to these ills 
 Gave birth, when she gave Paris birth ; and next 
 The aged Priam ruined Troy and thee, 
 The infant not destroying, nt his birth 
 Denounced a baleful firebrand. Hear from thence 
 What followed. 'Twixt the rival goddesses 
 Paris was judge. From Pallas was his meed 
 To lead the Phrygian arms, and conquer Greece ;
 
 274 EURIPIDES. 
 
 From Juno, if to her his voice adjudged 
 The prize, to hold o'er Asia and the bounds 
 Of Europe his wide empire : but, my form 
 Extolling, Venus promised to his arms 
 To give me, if in beauty she surpassed 
 The other goddesses. Mark now th' event. 
 The prize is given to Venus ; and so far 
 My nuptials profit Greece : you are not fall'n 
 Beneath Barbarians or a tyrant's sway, 
 Nor to protect your country stand in arms. 
 I, in what Greece is happy, am undone, 
 Sold for my beauty, and with cruel taunts 
 Reviled for what my head deserves a crown. 
 But thou wilt say that to an obvious charge 
 I have not yet replied, that from thy house 
 I fled by stealth. Her son, for ruin born, 
 Or Paris called or Alexander, came, 
 And brought no feeble goddess in his train : 
 Him, thou most worthless, leaving in thy house, 
 From Sparta didst thou hoist thy sails for Crete. 
 Well, what ensued of thee I will not ask, 
 But of myself : what could induce my thought, 
 My country for a stranger, and my house 
 Betrayed, to follow him ? Thy vengeance rouse 
 Against the goddess, and be thou than Jove 
 More potent ; he o'er other gods bears rule, 
 But is her slave : I then may pardon find. 
 But hence against me thou mayst urge a charge 
 Of specious argument : When Paris died, 
 And low in earth was laid, behoved me then, 
 Since by no god my nuptials then were wrought, 
 To leave his house, and to the Grecian ships 
 To come. On this I earnestly was bent ; 
 Witness, ye guards who kept the gates, and you 
 Who stationed on the walls held careful watch, 
 How oft you found me from the battlements 
 With ropes attempting to slide down by stealth : 
 But this new husband seizing me by force, 
 Deiphobus, the Trojans much averse,
 
 THE TROJAN DAMES. 275 
 
 Held me his wife. How then can justice doom me 
 
 To die ? With justice how can I be slain 
 
 By thee, my husband, since he wedded me 
 
 By force ? Thus from my house was I a slave 
 
 Sold for the prize of conquest. If thou aim 
 
 T' exceed the gods in power, the thought is folly. 
 
 CHOR. Defend thy children and thy country, queen ; 
 Refute her glozing speech. Her words are fair, 
 Her actions foul. In this much danger lies. 
 
 HEC. The goddesses my voice shall first defend, 
 And show that she unjustly charges blame 
 On them. For Juno never will I deem, 
 Or virgin Pallas, to such frenzy sunk, 
 That Argos to Barbarians she would- sell, 
 Or Pallas to the Phrygians e'er enslave 
 Her favoured Athens, who in sportive mood 
 And dainty dalliance to Ida came, 
 For form contesting. Whence this strong desire 
 In royal Juno of superior charms ? 
 Was it to win a greater lord than Jove? 
 Did Pallas, of her father who had asked 
 To keep her virgin purity unsoiled, 
 Flying connubial rites, aim now t' obtain 
 The nuptials of some god ? Forbear to charge 
 These goddesses with folly, to set off 
 Thy own misdeeds ; no credence with the wise 
 Wilt thou acquire. But Venus, thou hast said 
 (High subject this for laughter), with my son 
 Came to the house of Menelaus. At rest 
 In heaven remaining, could she not have brought her, 
 And e'en Amycla?, had she pleased, to Troy ? 
 My son was with surpassing beauty graced ; 
 And thy fond passion, when he struck thy sight, 
 Became a Venus : for each foolish fondness 
 To mortals is a Venus, and the soul 
 Bereaves of reason. When thine eyes beheld him 
 Glitt'ring in rich barbaric vests and gold, 
 Thy passions were to madness soon inflamed, 
 At Argos little hadst thou been with wealth
 
 276 EURIPIDES. 
 
 Acquainted. Quitting Sparta, thou hadst hope 
 
 The Phrygian state, flowing with gold, would yield 
 
 Thy proud expense supplies ; nor could the house 
 
 Of Menelaus within its narrow walls 
 
 Give thy insulting vanities free scope. 
 
 Well, let that pass. My son, thou sayst, by force 
 
 Bore thee away. What Spartan of that force 
 
 Was sensible ? With what cries didst thou call 
 
 Castor, thy brother, to thy aid, then strong 
 
 In manhood's prime, then living, to the stars 
 
 Not then exalted ? When thou earnest to Troy, 
 
 And, following close, the Grecians, raged the spear 
 
 In conflict fierce ; whene'er his arms obtained 
 
 Aught cf advantage, Menelaus thy praise 
 
 Extolled, to grieve my son in that his love 
 
 Met with a potent rival : if success 
 
 Favoured the Trojans, he was nothing then. 
 
 Thine eyes were fixed on Foitune; this thy care, 
 
 To follow her; to Virtue thou wouldst pay 
 
 No homage. Yet with ropes didst thou attempt, 
 
 Such is thy plea, down from the walls to slide 
 
 By stealth, as if detained against thy will : 
 
 By whom wast thou surprised in act to fix 
 
 The pendent rope or point the sharpened sword ? 
 
 This would a woman of a gen'rous soul, 
 
 Who sorrowed for her husband lost, have done. 
 
 Yet much did I admonish thee, and oft, 
 
 " Leave, O my daughter, leave us : other wives 
 
 My sons shall wed : I to the Grecian ships 
 
 Will send thee secretly, that war no more 
 
 'Twixt Greece and us may rage. :> To this thy heart 
 
 Was much averse ; still in thy husband's house 
 
 Thy insolence of grandeur wouldst thou hold, 
 
 Imperious still from thy barbaric train 
 
 Claim prostrate adoration : there thy pride 
 
 Found rich supplies ; from thence didst thou come forth 
 
 Gorgeously vested, and the same bright sky 
 
 View with thy husband, O detested wretch, 
 
 When it became thee with thy garments rent,
 
 THE TROJAN DAMES. 277 
 
 Humble, and cow'ring, and thy tresses shorn, 
 To have appeared, and for thy former faults 
 To veil thy shameless pride with modesty. 
 But, Menelaus, that thou mayst know what end 
 My words would have, give Greece a glorious crown . 
 }> y killing her, and this thy law confirm 
 To other women, " She who dares betray 
 Her husband, faithless to his bed, shall die." 
 
 CHOR. Oh, for the honour of thy ancestors, 
 And of thy house, punish thy wife. From Greece 
 Take this vile woman, this reproach, away; 
 And show thy gen'rous spirit to thy foes. 
 
 MEN. In this thy sentiment accords with mine, 
 That willingly she left my house, and sought 
 A foreign bed ; and, to set off her plea, 
 Is Venus introduced. Go, where with stones 
 Thou shalt be crushed : and in one hour repay 
 The Grecians for their tedious toils, by death, 
 That thou mayst learn ne'er to disgrace me more. 
 
 HEL. Low at thy knees a suppliant I beg thee, 
 To me impute not what the gods have done 
 Amiss. Ah, do not kill me ; pardon me ! 
 
 HEC. Thy brave associates in this wasteful war, 
 Whom she hath slain, I beg thee for their sake, 
 And for my children's, do not thou betray. 
 
 MEN. Forbear, age-honoured lady ; for of her 
 I have no heed. You, who attend me, hence 
 To the bark bear her : she shall sail for Greece. 
 
 HEC. Let her not enter the same bark with thee. 
 
 MEN. Why ? Is the freight more heavy than before ? 
 
 HEC. He is no lover, who not always loves. 
 
 MEN. That every thought of love may be discharged, 
 Thy will shall be complied with : the same bark 
 With me she shall not enter : not amiss 
 Is thy monition. When she comes to Greece, 
 For her vile deeds as vilely shall she die, 
 And teach all other women to be chaste, 
 No easy lesson : yet her death with fear 
 Shall strike their folly, be they worse than she.
 
 278 EURIPIDES. 
 
 HECUBA, CHORUS. 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Strophe \. 
 
 So, to the Grecian arms a prey, 
 
 The temple Ilium's height that crowned, 
 
 The altar breathing odours round, 
 
 O Jove, dost thou betray ; 
 The flames of holy sacrifice, 
 
 The clouds of incense wreathing to the skies. 
 The towers of Pergamus that rose 
 A sacred rampire 'gainst the foes, 
 The darksome, ivy -vested woods, 
 The woods that wave on Ida's brow, 
 
 Down whose steep sides the cool translucent floods 
 
 In mazy channels flow, 
 The height, which first the sun's bright ray 
 
 Impurples with the orient beams of day. 
 
 Antistrophe I. 
 
 Ah, banished is each solemn rite ; 
 
 The sacred choirs with tuneful song, 
 
 Echoing thy hollow rocks among, 
 No more shall charm the night : 
 
 No more thy summits shall behold 
 The forms of gods that breathe in sculptured gold : 
 
 On thee the full-orbed moon no more 
 
 Shall Phrygia's hallowed sports restore. 
 
 O king, in yon ethereal skies 
 
 High- throned who holdst thy sov'reign state, 
 Will in thy soul no gentle pity rise, 
 For Troy's unhappy late, 
 
 Sunk to the dust her towered head 
 As wide the raging flames their ravage spread ?
 
 THE TROJAN DAMES. 
 
 Strophe 2. 
 
 Dear to my soul, my wedded lord, 
 
 Fall'n, fall'n beneath the slaught'ring sword, 
 
 Nor cleansing bath, nor decent tomb 
 
 Was thine, but in the Stygian gloom 
 
 Wanders thy melancholy ghost. 
 
 But me the bark that ploughs the main, 
 
 Winged with her swelling sails, shall bear 
 
 To Argos famed for steeds that whirl the car : 
 
 Where by the lab'ring Cyclops rise 
 
 The rampired walls that brave the skies. 
 
 My children, now a friendless train, 
 
 Wailing with sighs and tears their fate, 
 
 Call on their mother in the gate : 
 
 Their mother from their eyes the Grecian host 
 
 In the black vessel bear away, 
 
 And dash with oars the foaming sea ; 
 
 To sacred Salamis they sweep, 
 
 Or where the Isthmus o'er the deep 
 
 Stretches its head, and views with pride 
 
 An ocean rolling 'gainst each side ; 
 
 Where Pelops in the rocky strait 
 
 Fixed in old times his royal seat. 
 
 A nti strophe 2. 
 
 On the detested bark, the waves 
 
 In the wide ocean when she braves 
 
 May the loud thunder's deep'ning roar 
 
 Fierce its tempestuous fury pour ; 
 
 And, kindled by Idaean Jove, 
 
 The forked lightning's bick'ring flame, 
 
 In haughty triumph as she rides, 
 
 Fall on her deck, and pierce her rifted sides 
 
 For me from Ilium, bathed in tears, 
 
 From my loved country far she bears 
 
 A slave to some proud Grecian dame.
 
 280 EURIPIDES. . 
 
 Reflecting Helen's winning grace 
 
 The golden mirror there hath place, 
 
 At which the virgins joy their charms t' improve. 
 
 Ne'er may she reach the Spartan shore, 
 
 Her household gods ne'er visit more, 
 
 Through Pitane ne'er proudly pass, 
 
 Nor through Minerva's gates of brass ; 
 
 For Greece, through all its wide domains, 
 
 With shame her fatal marriage stains ; 
 
 And gives through scenes of bitterest woe 
 
 The streams of Simois to flow. 
 
 Alas ! In quick succession o'er this land 
 Ills roll on ills. Behold, ye Trojan dames 
 Oppressed with woes, the dead Astyanax, 
 Thrown by the ruthless Grecians from the towers. 
 
 TALTHYBIUS, HECUBA, CHORUS. 
 
 TALT. One vessel, royal Hecuba, yet waits 
 To plough the deep, the treasures that remain, 
 Selected for Achilles' son, to bear 
 To Phthia's shore : the youthful chief is gone, 
 Informed of some calamities, which late 
 Have fall'n on Peleus, that Acastus, son 
 Of Pelias, hath driven him from his realms : 
 On this with quicker speed, than if the time 
 Allowed delay, he sailed, and with him bore 
 Andromache, who from mine eyes wrung tears 
 At her departure, for her country such 
 Her mournful sighs, and such at Hector's tomb 
 Her invocations : earnest her request 
 To thee, that her dead child, who from the tower 
 Fell and expired, thou in the earth wouldst lay, 
 Thy Hector's son ; and this brass-plated shield, 
 The terror of the Grecians, which his father 
 Before his breast once raised ; that to the house 
 Of Peleus, nay to the same chamber, where 
 Andromache, the mother of this child,
 
 THE TROJAN DAMES. 281 
 
 Must mount the nuptial bed, she may not bear it, 
 
 To sorrow at its sight : but for the chest 
 
 Of cedar, for the marble tomb, in this 
 
 That thou wouldst bury him ; conjuring me 
 
 To give him to thy arms, that with what robes 
 
 And crowns thy present fortune yields thee means, 
 
 Thou her dead son wouldst grace, since she is gone, 
 
 And her lord's haste allowed her not to give 
 
 Her dear child to the tomb. When thou hast dressed 
 
 The body with what ornaments thou mayst, 
 
 The earth will we heap on him ; then we sail. 
 
 With thy best speed what is enjoined thee do : 
 
 From one toil I have freed thee ; passing o'er 
 
 Scamander's stream the body I have bathed, 
 
 And washed its wounds : but now I go to sink 
 
 Deep in the earth his place of sepulture, 
 
 Th it with more speed, with what thou hast in charge 
 
 My toil concurring, \ve may sail for Greece. 
 
 HECUBA, CHORUS. 
 
 HEC. Place the orbed shield of Hector on the ground, 
 A mournful sight, nor pleasing to mine eyes. 
 Why, O ye Grecians, who in arms excel 
 More than in gen'rous minds, why have you wrought, 
 Fearing this child, a slaughter to this hour 
 Unheard of? Was it lest the time might come 
 When he might raise fall'n Troy ? There was no cause : 
 E'en when my Hector shone in prosperous arms, 
 And thousands with him shook the purple spear, 
 We perished : since the vanquished city sunk 
 Your prey, and in the war the Phrygian force 
 Was wasted, such an infant could you fear ? 
 The fear, which reason disavows, I bbme. 
 O thou most dear, how hapless was thy death ? 
 H.'.dst thou in manhood's prime, the nuptial bed 
 Possessed, and high, imperial, godlike power, 
 Died for thy country, happy hadst thou been, 
 If aught of these be happy : no\v, my child.
 
 282 EURIPIDES. 
 
 These to thine eyes presented and thy thought, 
 
 Thou didst not taste, nor aught of what thy house 
 
 Contained enjoy. Ah me, how wretchedly 
 
 Thy father's walls, the towers by Phoebus raised, 
 
 Have rent the crispe"d ringlets from thy head, 
 
 Which thy fond mother cherished, nor withheld 
 
 The frequent kiss ! But now, the bones all crushed, 
 
 The slaughter riots, to abstain from words 
 
 Of harsher utt'rance. Ah, these hands, whose joints 
 
 Once the dear image of thy father's bore, 
 
 Now lie with loosened nerves ! O thou dear mouth, 
 
 Which utteredst many a spritely pleasantry, 
 
 How art thou mangled ? Where thy promise now 
 
 Which once thou madst me, hanging on my robes ? 
 
 " O mother, didst thou say, these clust'ring locks 
 
 Will I for thee cut off, and to thy tomb 
 
 With my companions bear them, hailing thee 
 
 With dear address." Such honours now to me 
 
 Thou dost not pay ; but thee, unhappy child, 
 
 Dead in thy early bloom, must I inter, 
 
 Old, of my country, of my children reft. 
 
 Ah me, are all my fond embraces, all 
 
 My nursing pains to lull thy infancy 
 
 To sleep, thus lost? And on thy tomb what verse, 
 
 Thy death declaring, shall the bard inscribe ? 
 
 " This child the Grecians, for they feared him slew ; " 
 
 A verse recording the disgrace of Greece. 
 
 But of thy father's wealth though reft, his shield 
 
 Shall yet be thine, and on its plated brass 
 
 Thou shalt be laid in th' earth. O thou, the fence 
 
 Of Hector's nervous arm, thou hast, O shield, 
 
 Lost thy best guardian ! Yet how sweet to trace 
 
 The mark of his strong grasp, and on the verge 
 
 Of thy high orb the sweat, which from his brows 
 
 Amidst his toils oft dropt, when to his face 
 
 Close he applied thee ! For th' unhappy dead 
 
 Bring what of ornament is left us now ; 
 
 For not to splendour hath the god assigned 
 
 Our fortunes ; but of what I have to grace thee
 
 THE TROJAN DAMES. 283 
 
 Thou shalt receive. Of mortals him I deem 
 Unwise, who, thinking that his state is blest, 
 Joys as secure : for Fortune, like a man 
 Distempered in his senses, this way now, 
 Now that way leaps, inconstant in her course. 
 No mortal knows stability of bliss. 
 
 CHOR. See, from the spoils of Troy their ready hands 
 Have brought thee ornaments t' in wrap the dead. 
 
 HEC. Thee, O my child, not victor with the bow 
 O'er thy compeers, nor on the spritely steed, 
 Customs held high by Phrygia's manly sons, 
 Unwearied in the chase, thy father's mother 
 Decks with these ornaments from treasures once 
 Thine own ; but Helen, by the gods abhorred, 
 Hath rent them from thee, hath destroyed thy life, 
 And all thy hapless house in ruins laid. 
 
 CHOR. O thou hast touched, O thou hast touched my heart, 
 Thou, who wast once my city's mighty king ! 
 
 HEC. Around thy limbs I wrap these gorgeous vests 
 Of Phrygian texture, which thou shouldst have worn 
 To grace thy nuptials with some noble bride 
 Surpassing all the Asiatic dames. 
 And thou, with conquests glorious, mother once 
 Of num'rous trophies, be thou crowned, loved shield 
 Of Hector : for, not dying, with the dead 
 Shalt thou be laid : with honours to be graced, 
 Thee worthier than the arms of my new lord, 
 The wise and base Ulysses, I esteem. 
 
 CHOR. Ah bitter lamentation ! Thee, O child, 
 Thee shall the Earth receive : thou, mother, raise 
 The cry that wails the dead. 
 
 HEC. My heart is rent. 
 
 CHOR. My heart too for thy dreadful ills is rent. 
 
 HEC. Thy wounds with hands medicinal ah me, 
 Vain service ! will I bind. Among the dead 
 All that remains shall be thy father's care. 
 
 CHOR. Strike, strike thy head ; loud let thy hands resound. 
 Ah me! 
 
 HEC. Ye females dearest to my soul 1
 
 284 EURIPIDES. 
 
 CHOR. Give utterance, royal lady, to thy griefs. 
 
 HEC. The gods intended nothing, but my woes, 
 And hate to Troy, most ruthless hate. In vain 
 The victims at their altars then we slew. 
 Yet from the heights above had not their power 
 Encompassed us, and low beneath the earth 
 Sunk us in ruin, by the Muse's voice 
 We had not been recorded, nor the bards 
 To latest ages given the lofty verse. 
 Go, in the tomb lay the unhappy dead ; 
 For, as becomes the shades below, with crowns 
 He is adorned : but little it imports 
 The dead, I think, if any shall obtain 
 Magnificent and costly obsequies : 
 Vain affectation of the living this. 
 
 CHOR. Ah the unhappy mother, in thy life 
 Who wove her brightest hopes ! Though highly blest, 
 As from illustrious parents thy rich stream 
 Of blood deriving, dreadful was thy death. 
 
 HEC. Alas, alas ! Whom see I on the heights 
 Of Ilium, blazing torches in their hands 
 Waving ? Some fresh misfortune threatens Troy. 
 
 TALTHYBIUS, HECUBA, CHORUS. 
 
 TALT. Ye leaders of the bands, who have in charge 
 To burn the town of Priam, from my voice 
 Hear your instructions : idle in your hands 
 No longer hold the flames, but hurl them, spread 
 The wasting blaze, that, Ilium low in dust 
 O'erturned, we may with joy return to Greece. 
 And you (for now to you my speech is turned), 
 Ye Trojan dames, soon as the chiefs shall give 
 The trumpet's sounding voice, go to the ships 
 Of Greece, that from this country you may sail. 
 And thou, unhappy lady worn with age, 
 Follow : for from Ulysses these are come, 
 To whom thy fortune sends thee hence a slave. 
 
 HEC. O miserable me ! This is the last,
 
 THE TROJAN DAMES. 285 
 
 This is the extreme bound of all my ills. 
 I from my country go ; my city sinks 
 In flames. But haste, my aged foot, though weak, 
 That I may yet salute the wretched town : 
 O Troy, that once 'mongst the barbaric states 
 Stoodst high aspiring, thy illustrious name 
 Soon shalt thou lose, for thee the raging flames 
 Consume : and from our country us they lead, 
 Now lead us slaves. Ye gods ! But why invoke 
 The gods ? Invoked before they did not hear. 
 But bear me, let me rush into the flames : 
 For this would be the greatest glory to me, 
 With thee my burning country now to die. 
 
 TALT. Unhappy, thou art frentic with thine ills. 
 Lead her, nay force her hence : for to his hand, 
 Charged by Ulysses, I must give his prize. 
 
 HEC. Woe, woe, woe, woe, intolerable woe ! 
 O Jove, O sov'reign lord of Phrygia's realms, 
 Almighty sire, seest thou our miseries, 
 Unworthy of the rnce of Dardanus ? 
 
 CHOR. He sees, yet this magnific city, now 
 No city, is destroyed. Troy is no more. 
 
 HEC. O sight of horror ! Ilium blazes; high 
 O'er Pergamus the fiery deluge rolls, 
 Rolls o'er the city, and its tow'red red walls. 
 
 CHOR. The glories of my country, e'en as smoke 
 Which on light wings is borne aloft in air, 
 By war are wasted ; all her blazing domes 
 Are sunk beneath the flames and hostile spear. 
 
 HEC. O my dear country, fost'ring land, who gavst 
 My children nurture ! 
 
 CHOR. O unhappy land ! 
 
 HEC. Hear, O my children, know your mother's voice ! 
 
 CHOR. With mournful voice dost thou address the dead ; 
 And throwing on the ground thy aged limbs 
 Dig with thy hands the earth. Behold, I bend 
 My knee with thine, and grov'lling on the ground 
 Call our unhappy husbands laid beneath. 
 
 HEC. Ah, we are borne, are dragged,
 
 286 EURIPIDES. 
 
 CHOR. O mournful voice ! 
 
 HEC. Dragged to the house of slavery. 
 
 CHOR. From my country. 
 
 HEC. O Priam, Priam, thou indeed art fall'n, 
 Thou hast no tomb, no friend ; but of my woes 
 Thou knowst not ; for black death hath closed thine eyes ; 
 By impious slaughter is the pious fall'n ! 
 
 CHOR. Ye temples of the gods, and thou, loved town, 
 Destruction from the flames and pointed spear 
 Is on you ; low on earth you soon will lie, 
 Your glories vanished ; for the dust, like smoke 
 On light wings mounting high, will leave my house 
 An undistinguished ruin ; e'en thy name, 
 My country, shall be lost. In different forms 
 Destruction comes on all. Troy is no more. 
 
 HEC. Heard you that dreadful crash ? It was the fall 
 Of Pergamus. The city rocks it rocks, 
 And crushed beneath the rolling ruin sinks. 
 My limbs, my trembling limbs, hence, bear me hence. 
 
 TALT. Go to the wretched day of servile life. 
 Alas, unhappy city ! But from hence 
 Go, to the Grecian ships advance thy steps. 
 
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 LIST OF THE SERIES : 
 
 Goethe's "Faust- Translated by JOHN ANSTER, LL.D. 
 Life of Lord Nelson. 
 Goldsmith's Plays and Poems. 
 Memoirs of Baron Trenck. 
 White's Natural History of Selborne. 
 Captain Cook's Third and Last Voyage. 
 Longfellow's Popular Poems. 
 Life of the Duke of "Wellington. 
 Gulliver's Travels. 
 De Foe's Journal of the Plague. 
 JEsop's Fables. 
 
 British Birds' Eggs and Nests. 
 The Mutiny of the " Bounty." 
 Lamb's Tales from Shakespeare. 
 O. W. Holmes' Professor at the Breakfast Table. 
 Chinese Gordon. 
 
 .Addison's Spectator (Selections). 
 Travels of Dr. Livingstone. 
 Comic Poets of the Nineteenth Century. 
 Poe's Tales of Mystery. 
 Mrs. Hundell's Cookery Meats. 
 
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 Common Objects of the Seashore. 
 
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 Henry Ward Beecher in the Pulpit. 
 Essay-Gems of Emerson. 
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