And what if none of those that tend the gates
Shall
welcome us with
gladness, since the house
With ills
divine is baunted? If this hap,
We at the gate will bide, till, passing by,
Some townsman make
conjecture and proclaim,
How? is Aegisthus here, and
knowingly
Keeps suppliants aloof, by bolt and bar?
Then shall I win my way; and if I cross
The
threshold of the gate, the palace' guard,
And find him throned where once my father sat-
Or if he come anon, and face to face
Confronting, drop his eyes from mine-I swear
He shall not utter, Who art thou and whence?
Ere my steel leap, and
compassed round with death
Low he shall lie: and thus, full-fed with doom,
The Fury of the house shall drain once more
A deep third
draught of rich unmingled blood.
But thou, O sister, look that all within
Be well prepared to give these things event.
And ye-I say 'twere well to bear a tongue
Full of fair silence and of
fitting speech
As each beseems the time; and last, do thou,
Hermes the warder-god, keep watch and ward,
And guide to
victory my striving sword.
(ORESTES, PYLADES, and ELECTRA depart.)
CHORUS (singing)
strophe 1
Many and marvellous the things of fear
Earth's breast doth bear;
And the sea's lap with many monsters teems,
And windy levin-bolts and
meteor gleams
Breed many
deadly things-
Unknown and flying forms, with fear upon their wings,
And in their tread is death;
And rushing whirlwinds, of whose blasting breath
Man's tongue can tell.
antistrophe 1
But who can tell aright the fiercer thing,
The aweless soul, within man's breast inhabiting?
Who tell how, passion-fraught and love-distraught,
The woman's eager,
craving thought
Doth wed mankind to woe and ruin fell?
Yea, how the loveless love that doth posses
The woman, even as the lioness,
Doth rend and wrest apart, with eager strife,
The link of
wedded life?
strophe 2
Let him be the
witness, whose thought is not borne on light wings
thro' the air,
But abideth with knowledge, what thing was
wrought by Althea's
despair;
For she marr'd the life-grace of her son, with ill
counselrekindled the flame
That was quenched as it glowed on the brand, what time from his
mother he came,
With the cry of a new-born child; and the brand from the burning
she won,
For the Fates had
foretold it coeval, in life and in death, with
her son.
antistrophe 2
Yea, and man's hate tells of another, even Scylla of murderous
guile,
Who slew for an enemy's sake her father, won o'er by the wile
And the gifts of Cretan Minos, the gauds of the high-
wrought gold;
For she clipped from her father's head the lock that should never
wax old,
As he breathed in the silence of sleep, and knew not her craft and
her crime-
But Hermes, the guard of the dead, doth grasp her, in fulness of
time.
strophe 3
And since of the crimes of the cruel I tell, let my singing record
The bitter wedlock and loveless, the curse on these halls
outpoured,
The
craftydevice of a woman,
whereby did a
chieftain fall,
A
warrior stern in his wrath, the fear of his enemies all,-
A song of dishonour, untimely! and cold is the
hearth that was
warm,
And ruled by the
cowardly spear, the woman's unwomanly arm.
antistrophe 3
But the
summit and crown of all crimes is that which in Lemnos
befell;
A woe and a
mourning it is, a shame and a spitting to tell;
And he that in after time doth speak of his deadliest thought,
Doth say, It is like to the deed that of old time in Lemnos was
wrought;
And loathed of men were the doers, and perished, they and their
seed,
For the gods brought hate upon them; none loveth the impious
deed.
strophe 4
It is well of these tales to tell; for the sword in the grasp of
Right
With a cleaving, a
piercing blow to the innermost heart doth
smite,
And the deed unlawfully done is not trodden down nor forgot,
When the
sinner out-steppeth the law and heedeth the high God not;
antistrophe 4
But justice hath planted the anvil, and Destiny forgeth the sword
That shall smite in her chosen time; by her is the child restored;
And,
darkly devising, the Fiend of the house, world-cursed, will
repay
The price of the blood of the slain, that was shed in the bygone
day.
(The scene now is before the palace. ORESTES and PYLADES enter,
still dressed as travellers.)
ORESTES (knocking at the palace gate)
What ho! slave, ho! I smite the palace gate
In vain, it seems; what ho, attend within,-
Once more, attend; come forth and ope the halls,
If yet Aegisthus holds them
hospitable.
SLAVE (from within)
Anon, anon! (Opens the door)
Speak, from what land art thou, and sent from whom?
ORESTES
Go, tell to them who rule the palace-halls,
Since 'tis to them I come with
tidings new-
(Delay not-Night's dark car is speeding on,
And time is now for wayfarers to cast
Anchor in haven, wheresoe'er a house
Doth
welcome strangers)-that there now come forth
Some one who holds authority within-
The queen, or, if some man, more seemly were it;
For when man standeth face to face with man,
No stammering
modesty confounds their speech,
But each to each doth tell his meaning clear.
(CLYTEMNESTRA comes out of the palace.)
CLYTEMNESTRA
Speak on, O strangers: have ye need of aught?
Here is whate'er beseems a house like this-
Warm bath and bed, tired Nature's soft restorer,
And
courteous eyes to greet you; and if aught
Of graver
import needeth act as well,
That, as man's
charge, I to a man will tell.
ORESTES
A Daulian man am I, from Phocis bound,
And as with mine own travel-scrip self-laden
I went toward Argos,
parting hitherward
With travelling foot, there did
encounter me
One whom I knew not and who knew not me,
But asked my purposed way nor hid his own,
And, as we talked together, told his name-
Strophius of Phocis; then he said, "Good sir,
Since in all case thou art to Argos bound,
Forget not this my message, heed it well,
Tell to his own, Orestes is no more.
And-whatsoe'er his kinsfolk shall resolve.
Whether to bear his dust unto his home,
Or lay him here, in death as erst in life
Exiled for aye, a child of banishment-
Bring me their hest, upon thy
backward road;
For now in
brazencompass of an urn
His ashes lie, their dues of
weeping paid."
So much I heard, and so much tell to thee,
Not
knowing if I speak unto his kin
Who rule his home; but well, I deem, it were,
Such news should earliest reach a parent's ear.
CLYTEMNESTRA
Ah woe is me! thy word our ruin tells;
From roof-tree unto base are we despoiled.-
O thou whom nevermore we
wrestle down,
Thou Fury of this home, how oft and oft
Thou dost
descry what far aloof is laid,
Yea, from afar dost bend th' unerring bow
And rendest from my wretchedness its friends;
As now Orestes-who, a brief while since,
Safe from the mire of death stood warily,-
Was the home's hope to cure th' exulting wrong;
Now thou ordainest, Let the ill abide.
ORESTES
To host and
hostess thus with fortune blest,
Lief had I come with better news to bear
Unto your greeting and acquaintanceship;
For what
goodwill lies deeper than the bond
Of guest and host? and wrong abhorred it were,
As well I deem, if I, who pledged my faith
To one, and greetings from the other had,
Bore not aright the
tidings 'twixt the twain.
CLYTEMNESTRA
Whate'er thy news, thou shalt not
welcome lack,
Meet and deserved, nor scant our grace shall be.
Hadst thou thyself not come, such tale to tell,
Another, sure, had borne it to our ears.
But lo! the hour is here when travelling guests,
Fresh from the daylong labour of the road,
Should win their
rightful due. (To the slave)
Take him within
To the man-chamber's
hospitable rest-
Him and these fellow-farers at his side;
Give them such guest-right as beseems our halls;
I bid thee do as thou shalt answer for it,
And I unto the
prince who rules our home
Will tell the tale, and, since we lack not friends,
With them will
counsel how this hap to bear.
(CLYTEMNESTRA goes back into the palace. ORESTES and
PYLADES are conducted to the guest quarters.)
CHORUS (singing)
So be it done-
Sister-servants, when draws nigh
Time for us aloud to cry
Orestes and his
victory?