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- Herausgeber: Carcanet Classics
- Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020
The stories are familiar: family disharmony, mourning the loss of a loved one, vengeance, national tyranny, international war, a desire for justice. This new translation by Jeffrey Scott Bernstein, an independent scholar and novelist, preserves the artistry of the original while deploying a clear speech that directly addresses a twenty-first century temperament. The Oresteia, first performed in Greece in 458 bce, has been celebrated as an example of the highest literary art. The murder of King Agamemnon by his wife Clytemnestra, the bloody vengeance their son Orestes wreaks upon his mother, and the appearance of the goddess Athena to sort matters out, tells a foundation narrative of world drama. The trilogy traces a progression from personal blood feud to institutionalised justice, and in doing so celebrates, by the end, the triumph of democracy among the citizenry.
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THE ORESTEIA
a trilogy of greek tragedies
AESCHYLUS
translated by Jeffrey Scott Bernstein
with masks by Tom Phillips
foramandaever morning star
contents
ix
preface
1.
Long ago, Atreus was King of Mycenae, the region in Greece where Argos stands at the head of the Gulf of Argolis. His wife Aerope gave birth to two sons, Agamemnon and Menelaus.
Aerope began a love affair with Atreus’ brother Thyestes. Atreus took revenge. He murdered Thyestes’ two sons, diced them up into a stew and served the steaming dish to his brother. After Thyestes had eaten heartily, Atreus revealed the secret of its ingredients, then banished his brother from Mycenae. Later, Thyestes lay with his own daughter Pelopia and fathered a son, Aegisthus. When he came of age, Aegisthus murdered Atreus in vengeance for the old wrongs. Thyestes then reigned in Mycenae. Agamemnon drove him out, in a time before the Trojan War.
For the old wrongs Aegisthus would not find satisfaction until he carried out one further act of revenge on the House of Atreus….
2.
Meanwhile, King Tyndareus of Sparta and his wife Leda had a daughter, Clytemnestra. Clytemnestra married King Tantalus of Pisa (who was either Agamemnon’s uncle or cousin) and bore him a child. In a dispute Agamemnon slew Tantalus and the newborn child, and took Clytemnestra as his own wife. Clytemnestra bore Agamemnon a son, Orestes, and three daughters, Chrysothemis, Electra, and Iphigenia. xii
3.
One day Zeus assumed the shape of a swan and ravished Leda, after which she gave birth to Clytemnestra’s half-sister Helen, who eventually became the wife of Menelaus. But Helen ran off with Paris, the Trojan prince, and Agamemnon and Menelaus made war on the Trojans and their king, Priam, in retaliation for Paris’ disrespect.
4.
The Agamemnon of Aeschylus begins just as the gruelling ten-years-long Trojan War is coming to a close. But for the citizens of Argos the victory celebration is an uneasy one. A terrible deed took place at the outset of the war that sticks in the mind. Agamemnon sacrificed his youngest daughter Iphigenia to placate a god sending storm winds that stymied the Greek fleet from sailing to Troy. For ten years now the Chorus has dwelt on what the Greek army’s chief prophet foresaw even before the fleet had sailed away: the woman of the palace of the sons of Atreus would not forget what Agamemnon had done to their child. Clytemnestra has spent those ten long years plotting revenge.
the oresteia
agamemnon
7
characters
Watchman
Chorus (of Elders of Argos)
Clytemnestra
Herald
Agamemnon
Cassandra
Aegisthus
[Before the house of Agamemnon in Argos.]
watchman
Gods! Grant me deliverance from this work,
A year of watching on Atreides’ roof,
Sleepily down on my arms like a dog,
Knowing well the nightly congress of stars
5 And those that bring man winter-frost and summer,
Brilliant masters dominating the sky:
Constellations rising then dying away.
And still I watch for the signalling torch,
Fire-bright oracle bringing news of Troy
10 And victory. Thus bids Clytemnestra,
Her woman’s heart strong with manly resolve.
Restless on my couch in the evening dew
No dreams visit me, for sleep yields to fear
Standing by my side, so that I dare not
15 Let my eyelids fall in unsure slumber.
And when I opt to sing or hum a tune
To offer some relief from wakefulness,
I weep for the changed fortunes of this House
Which lacks the perfect order of foretimes.
20 Perhaps tonight good luck will lift my labour:
Fire burning through the gloom, bringing glad news!
[The beacon blazes into being and is seen.]
Welcome, happy light, bringing day to night!
Shining precursor of public dances
In Argos to celebrate the event!
10
25 Ho! Ho!
Agamemnon’s Queen! May these cries rouse you
To rise up swiftly from your palace bed
And with loud proclamations of acclaim
Honour this blazing omen, for Ilion
30 Is a conquered city, as this beacon conveys.
I’ll make a beginning with my own dance
And count my lord’s lucky roll as my own,
For this signal has thrown me a triple six!
May the well-loved master of the palace
35 Return so I can clasp my hand in his!
I’m silent besides; a weight stills my tongue.
This house, if given voice, could tell a tale
Plainly. As for me, my meaning is clear
To those who know. Who knows not, hears silence.
[Watchman exits. Chorus enters.]
chorus
40 Ten years now since Priam’s powerful challengers,
Kings Menelaus and Agamemnon,
Sharing throne and sceptre by the favour of Zeus,
Firm pair guiding the house of Atreides,
Went forth from Argos with a thousand ships
45 Freighted with warriors to bear their cause.
Piercing was their furious battle cry,
As eagles keening the loss of their brood
Circle round high over their plundered nest
In anguish, wings oaring through the air,
50 Their loving work of raising chicks annulled—
Till an uppermost power, Apollo
Or Pan or Zeus, hearkens to the wailing11
Of these ramblers in his aerial realm
And sends, though late, Fury against the guilty.
55 In this manner were the sons of Atreus
Dispatched against guilty Alexandros
By Zeus, custodian of guest and host,
On account of the woman with many husbands.
The combat would be long and wearying
60 —With the sunken knee a prop in the dust
And thrust spears splintering into fragments—
For both Trojans and Danaans equally.
This is the way things now stand, and the end
Shall be fulfilled as fate has determined.
65 Burnt offerings, secret libations, tears:
Nothing shall temper the Gods’ resolution
Against unconsecrated sacrifice;
No man can alter the natural order.
We with our tired flesh and aged years
70 Were left behind by the martial voyage
And remain here with the strength of a child,
Bent upon a cane. Youth and age are like
In this: in the marrow of the immature breast
As in the old, Ares is out of place.
75 He of extreme age, his leaves withering,
Makes his way on three feet, weak as a child,
Wandering insubstantial as a daydream.
Daughter of Tyndareus, Queen Clytemnestra,
What new knowledge is there? What necessity?
80 What report have you heard, which compelled you
To circulate orders for sacrifice?
To honour the Gods protecting the city—12
Those supreme and those of the underworld,
Those of the heavens and those of the market—
85 Gifts of fire rise up from our altars,
Here and there flames aspire Heavenward
Treated with fresh and soothing sacred oil,
Royal balm from the palace’s inmost chambers.
What you can tell us, and what is right for us
90 To hear, speak, and heal us of this concern
Which, just now, presages something evil;
But now again, lit by mild altar-light,
Hope appears to ward off this persistent care
That seeks to consume our hearts with sorrow.
95 I have the mastery to speak of the omens
That favored our monarchs along the way
(For the power of song, granted by the Gods,
Has grown strong as my years have grown with me):
Of how two-throned Hellas in its youthful prime
100 Ruled by the united brotherly mind
Sent forth with spears and punishing hands
The Achaeans against the Teucrian land:
Kingly Birds appeared to our kings of ship,
Birds of prey, one white-tailed, the other black,
105 High over the palace on the spear-hand side,
A conspicuous omen in the sky:
They fed on a mother-hare big with young
And devoured the unborn fruit of her womb
While she lost her last chance to escape.
110Sing Sorrow! Sorrow! But may the good prevail!
The army’s insightful Prophet, heeding
How the warlike Atreides were dual13
In nature, likened the hare-devourers
With these leaders of our forces, and thus
115 Spoke out, interpreting the prodigy:
‘In time Priam’s city will be captured
By this mission, and before their towers
Their herds of cattle, all that civic wealth,
Shall be drained away from them by violence.
120 Only may no resentment from the Gods
Becloud our campaign to curb the great mouth
Of Troy, for compassionate Artemis
Disapproves of her father’s winged hounds
Which ambushed the cowering animal
125 And wretchedly slaughtered its unborn young:
Vile to Artemis is the eagles’ feast.’
Sing Sorrow! Sorrow! But may the good prevail!
‘The Beautiful Goddess, who kindly favours
The naïve cubs of ferocious lions,
130 And delights in the younglings that suckle
The creatures which roam the open wild,
May yet allow fulfilment of this omen,
This vision auspicious—but also unsettling.
And so I call upon Paeon to ensure
135 She will not summon unfavourable winds
To restrain the Danaans indefinitely
In port without prospect of sailing,
Requiring another sacrifice,
One unbefitting, not customary,
140 Root of domestic unrest, with no man feared:
For standing fast shall be adamant wrath,
A treacherous housekeeper ever mindful
Of furious retribution for a child.’
14
Thus did Calchas, along with the blessings,
145 Convey the darker fate the birds implied
When seen by the kings’ palace. In like manner
Sing Sorrow! Sorrow! But may the good prevail!
Zeus, whosoever he is, and if it
Pleases him to be so called, with this name
150 Then I call to him. When I contemplate
The way of all things, one Power alone
Stands forth incomparable, that of Zeus,
If truly I am to cast off this burden of unease.
He who previously dominated,
155 Bursting with boldness for every battle,
We do not speak of him as having been.
And he who thereupon came forth, he too
Faced his conqueror and is now no more.
But now Zeus—whoever sings earnestly
160 Of victorious Zeus shall wholly arrive at true insight.
Zeus, who guides mortals towards understanding,
Holds the authority to dictate thus:
Through suffering, mortals come to wisdom.
Just as in sleep, memories of pain fall
165 Drop by drop upon the heart, so likewise,
Even against one’s will, arrives wisdom.
Stern, it seems, is the regard from the great enthroned Gods.
So then it was that the senior commander
Of the Achaean ships of war, deeming
170 His soothsayers free from blame or rebuke,
Laboured under the blasts of ill fortune:
The impossibility of sailing15
From port, which gradually sapped the strength
Of the Achaeans stranded at Aulis,
175 With Chalcis standing across the way withheld
By the roil and surge of the waters between.
The wind-blasts blowing in from the Strymon
Enforced harmful idleness: food supplies
Dwindled while the ships lingered at anchor,
180 Their stern-cables fraying and rotting away;
These were the winds to keep men wandering.
The time of the delay doubled in length;
Withering was the flower of Argos.
But when a remedy for these cruel storms
185 Was announced by the Prophet, who reckoned
Artemis the cause, the sons of Atreus
Struck at the earth with their sceptres and wept.
Then the senior king found his voice and spoke:
‘Heavy is my fate if I defy this demand.
190 But heavy also to have my child,
The honour and delight of my house, sully
With a stream of slaughtered maiden’s blood
Her own father’s hands by the altar-side.
Which of these two ways is without evil?
195 How can I desert the fleet and fail
In my duty to the allies? Stilling
The wind in exchange for a sacrifice
Of virgin blood, this impassioned insistence
For what they desire—it is their right.
200 May it all go well for us in the end.’
So he took on the yoke of necessity
And his spirit breathed forth terrible change,
Unholy, dreadful; and thus he resolved16
To carry out that appalling deed, for
205 Blind passion emboldens men towards awful acts
And is the source of misery and woe.
To advance the woman-avenging war,
He hardened himself to slay his daughter,
Offering sacrifice to aid the fleet.
210 Her prayers, her pleas to her father, her youth,
None were respected by the commanders
Impatient for war. After solemn rites
Her father instructed his ministers
To take her from the altar-stead—on which,
215 Wrapped in her robes, she had fallen forward,
Body and soul swooning—raise her up there,
Goat-like; and to guard her beautiful lips
Firmly, as if with voice-muffling bridle,
And suppress the utterance of a curse
220 Which could bring misfortune upon the House.
Then as her saffron-dyed robe fell away
She threw each and every one of her slayers
Swift-darting glances of heartbreaking pity,
Resembling a picture wishing to speak;
225 For many times before in her father’s
Banqueting hall, by the hospitable table,
She had made pious music for these men,
Honouring with her pure voice the third libation,
Singing songs of praise for her beloved father.
230 What happened after that—I did not see,
Nor will I tell. But the art of Calchas
Went not unfulfilled. The scales of justice
Are arranged so that we learn from suffering.
And do not ask what the future shall bring,17
235 For that is equal to grieving beforehand.
What shall be will come, clear as the dawning sun.
[Clytemnestra enters.]
May what is to follow from this be well:
This is our prayer, we who remain nearest
To the Apian homeland, watching alone
240 As the sole guardian of its defence.
chorus
I have come, Clytemnestra, in honour
Of your authority, for it is proper
To respect our leader’s wife when the man’s throne
Stands empty. If you have heard anything
245 Good or ill, or if these sacrifices
Blaze on the expectation of good news,
I would hear it willingly; yet if you
Keep silent, I shall raise no objection.
clytemnestra
I bring good news, just as the proverb says,
250May dawn spring forth from mother night! You shall
Hear of joy surpassing all expectation:
For the Argives have taken Priam’s city!
chorus
What’s that? Disbelief makes your sense escape me.
clytemnestra
The Achaeans have Troy. Do I speak clear?18
chorus
255 Joy overcomes me and summons my tears!
clytemnestra
Indeed, your eye proves your understanding.
chorus
What are the grounds for this? Have you evidence?
clytemnestra
Of course!—unless some god has deceived me.
chorus
Has a phantom in a dream told you this?
clytemnestra
260 I heed not whimsies from a slumbrous mind!
chorus
Perhaps you’ve been heartened by wingless Rumour?
clytemnestra
You mock my sense as if it were a child’s!
chorus
But since when has the city been taken?
clytemnestra
This very night that brings forth the dawn, I tell you.
chorus
265 But what messenger could reach here so quickly?19
clytemnestra
Hephaestus, sending forth brilliant fire from Ida.
Beacon after beacon relayed the messenger flame
Forward: Ida to the Hermaean cliff on Lemnos;
Thence from that island the mighty flame was taken up
270 Thirdly by the heights of Athos, Zeus’ sacred seat;
Then, soaring sky-high and overleaping the sea,
The vigorous flame travelled joyously forward—
The pinewood blaze gold-beaming like a second sun—
And the light passed on its message to the watchman
275 Atop Macistus, where he, not foolishly sleeping,
Without delay fulfilled his duty as messenger.
From afar came the beacon-light over the tides
Of Euripus to the watchmen on Messapius,
Who in turn passed on the message by kindling
280 A heap of dry old heather into a bonfire.
The beacon-light, in nowise dim but growing stronger,
Beaming bright as the moon, bounded over the plain
Of Asopus and arrived at Cithaeron’s peak,
Rousing another relay of the courier fire.
285 The watchmen there did not disdain the far-sent light
But kindled an even greater blaze than arranged.
The flame shot across the swampland of Gorgopus
And arrived at Mount Aegiplanctus, where the law
Of the fire was urged not to linger, but lighting
290 An ample blaze, they sent forth a mighty beard
Of flame visible to the headland overlooking
The Saronic Gulf. Continuing on, it reached
The lookout atop Mount Arachne, neighbouring
Our city, from where it shot to the roof of Atreides,
295 This light that was fathered by the Idaean flame.
Such are the torch-bearers that I had established,
One after another, working in succession;
And champion is he who ran both first and last.20
This is the surest proof and evidence I offer,
300 The news conveyed to me by my husband at Troy.
chorus
Prayers of thanks I shall offer the Gods
Hereafter. Just now, lady, I would hear
Of this marvellous news from beginning
To end if you elect to speak once more.
clytemnestra
305 This very day the Achaeans hold Troy.
The city, I expect, resounds with cries
That fail to blend. Pour oil and vinegar
Into a jar together and they stand
Apart as foes—you would not call them friends.
310 In like manner, cries of conqueror and conquered
Strike the ear as diverse as their dual fortunes.
Trojans, having flung themselves down upon
The corpses of their husbands and brothers;
And children, down upon their aged fathers
315 Who nurtured them—they all at once bewail
From throats no longer free the dismal fate
Of their loved ones. Our men, meanwhile, wandering
Through the night after the labour of battle
Has left them famished, look for their breakfast
320 Among whatever the city affords,
Not proceeding as rank and status decree,
But each according to his lot of chance.
And in the captured homes of the Trojan
Prisoners of war our soldiers now dwell,
325 Free from the frosts and dews of the open air,
Happy to sleep securely through the night.21
If well they honour Troy’s guardian gods
And the holy places of that conquered land,
The capturers may not be captured in turn.
330 And may no impulse overtake our army
To sack what one must not, when driven by gain;
For if they are to return safely home
They must double back along their journey’s route.
And even if the army makes it home
335 Without having caused offence to the gods,
The misery of the vanquished might rouse
The gods if a fresh wrong should come to pass.
These, then, are my woman’s words you give ear to.
But may the good prevail past all doubt
340 For all to see! Delight in our fortunes
Is one of the enjoyments I have gained.
chorus
Lady, you speak the good sense of a wise man.
I, having heard your sure and trusty proof,
Prepare to praise God with proper homage:
345 Such thankfulness will not be unworthy
Compensation for what our toils have won.
[Clytemnestra exits.]
chorus
O Zeus our Sovereign Lord; and kindly Night!
You who have bestowed on us great glory,
Who cast down over Troy’s towers the confining
350 Hunting-net, so that neither warriors
Nor their young ones could outleap the bondage
Of that huge snare and its all-catching ruin!
Mighty Zeus, guardian of guest and host,22
You I stand in awe of, who brought this about.
355 Against Alexandros you drew your bow
In such wise that neither short of the mark
Nor exceeding over the stars your lightning fell in vain.
The heaven-sent stroke of Zeus, they call it;
And from such signs we can trace his presence.
360 As Zeus determines, so he brings to pass.
Someone said that God does not condescend
To busy himself with those who trample
The holy things that are not to be touched;
But he who has said this is impious.
365 It now stands clearly revealed: the penalty
Is destruction for men who breathe forth pride
Beyond what is just and right, whose households
Teem with abundance and brim over above
And beyond what is best. For misery
370 To be avoided, let there be such wealth
Sufficient to satisfy the prudent man.
For there shall be no protection in riches
For the man who, through excess and surfeit,
Tramples into shadow the mighty altar of Justice.
375 For he who is driven by wretched Temptation,
Intolerable child of scheming Ruin,
All remedy is futile. His evil
Is not hidden away but revealed clearly
And horrid-gleaming, just as a bad coin,
380 When put to the test of the touchstone’s rub
Reveals itself as discoloured and black.
He is like a child chasing a winged bird.
He taints his city with insufferable shame,
And no god hearkens to his prayers. The man
385 Who concerns himself with such wrongdoing—23
That unrighteous man the mighty gods destroy.
Such a man was Paris, who visited
The House of Atreides and dishonoured
The hospitality of his host by thieving a wife.
390 But she—leaving in her wake her people
Arraying for battle, a bustling turmoil
Of spears and shields and naval armament;
And bringing to Troy, in place of a dower,
Destruction—lightly she stepped through the gates
395 Of the city, daring the not-to-be-dared.
Many sighs and moans rose from the house prophets,
Who cried, ‘Oh! Oh! The House! The House! Its kings!
Oh! The bed left with her amorous imprint!’
The dishonoured husband, sitting apart
400 In silent grief and sorrow, but without scorn,
Sees her still in his memory. Yearning
For her who has fled across the sea, he
Seems like a phantom reigning in the house.
The comely statues with their outward grace
405 This man has come to hate; in the blank gaze
Of his eyes Aphrodite has perished.
Fancies appear in dreams lamentably
Bringing pleasure that is empty and vain.
Empty and vain, for when such fortunate
410 Visions are beheld, then in a moment
They slip through the hands, gone, winging away
Along the paths of sleep. Such are the woes
And the sorrows of the hearth and the home.
But yet there are sorrows and woes beyond these.
415 For all of those who marched forth together
From the land of Hellas, a dreadful grief,
Clearly seen, is borne in the heart of each home.24
Many such miseries attack the heart.
Each man, each woman, knows of one who was sent
420 Away to war, but instead of a man
Returning to the hearth and home of each,
Comes armour and the ashes of the dead.
Trader Ares trades in the bodies of men
And balances the contest towards the spear.
425 He tests through the fires of conflict, then sends
From Ilion the dust that overburdens
Friends with tears: in place of men comes a freight
Of ashes neatly stowed in funeral urns.
So then they sigh, and eulogise the men,
430 ‘Now this one was skilled in battle!’, ‘Now that one
Fell honourably on the field of slaughter!’,
—‘But for another’s wife’, some snarl in secret,
And resentment growing under grief spreads
Quietly against the warmongering sons
435 Of Atreus. And close by that city are graves
In Trojan soil that the goodly occupy,
Possessed and concealed by that enemy land.
When the common talk is unanimous
In bitterness, a curse threatens the state.
440 With mounting unease I await to hear
Of something as yet obscured in the night.
Of murderous, much-slaying ones, the gods
Are far from oblivious. And in time
Black Furies shall reverse the luck and reduce
445 To insignificance the lives of those
Who prosper without thought of what is right:
Those lost and fallen ones then shall find no help.
There is peril in extravagant power:
For Zeus sees and smites the loftiest peaks.
25
450 I favour contentment that rouses no envy;
Not to be a destroyer of cities,
Nor, most certainly, to see myself seized
And put under the subjection of others.
[a choral voice]
The beacon-light suggesting good tidings
455 Has sent rumour darting through the city.
Whether the news is true, or possibly
An untruth sent by the gods, who can say?
[a second voice]
Who is so childish and lacking in sense
To let his heart be inflamed too quickly
460 By news implied by fire, only to then
Fall downhearted at a change in report?
[a third voice]
It’s in the forward nature of women
To agree at once with news not yet proved.
[a fourth voice]
Far too naïve, women all too quickly
465 Get overexcited beyond measure—
But quick to perish is woman-voiced rumour.
chorus
Soon we shall learn of these light-bringing beacons
And their signals exchanged between fires:
Whether they really speak true, or whether,
470 As in the manner of dreams, this glad light
Has come to deceive our understanding.
I see a herald coming from the shore,
Crowned with woven shoots of the olive tree.
26
That dry dust mixing with a sibling mud
475 Suggests that—rather than voicelessly, through
Fire-smoke signs kindled from mountain-wood flame—
This man will speak out pointedly. At which
We will rejoice all the more, or—But I
Shudder to think of a contrary report!
480 May further good join the good already heard!
[another choral voice]
Any man who prays otherwise for our city,
Let him suffer the harvest of his fault.
[Herald enters.]
herald
Oh Argive soil, earth of my fathers!
In this tenth year’s light I return to you!
485 After many dashed hopes, one has hit the mark!
Never did I expect to breathe my last
On Argive land, and take my due portion
Of the burial place of my kinsmen.
I now bless this earth, and bless the sunlight;
490 And Zeus, uppermost over our homeland;
And the Pythian Master—may his bow
No longer shoot arrows into us! Plenty
Enough came appallingly by the banks
Of the Scamander! Now, in different mood,
495 Be our saviour and healer, Lord Apollo!
I bless all the contest-deciding gods!
And Hermes, my patron, cherished messenger,
Of all messengers most revered! And the Heroes
Who sent us off, graciously welcome back
500 Those of our army who have escaped the spear!27
Hail, halls of our kings! Beloved palace!
Its august thrones; these statues of our gods
Facing the sun! Just as in days gone by,
With our eyes shining with joy, rightfully
505 Receive now our King after all this time,
He who comes bearing light in the darkness
To one and all, Agamemnon our King,
Who razed Troy to the ground with the great-axe
Of Zeus the Avenger! Their altars and shrines
510 Are annihilated, and the offspring
Of that country is utterly destroyed.
Having thrown the yoke-strap round Troy, our King,
The senior Atreides, fortunate man,
Comes home, worthy of the honour of all men!
515 Neither Paris nor his partner city can boast
That their crime exceeded the punishment.
Rightly convicted for theft and rape, he
Lost what he had stolen, wrecked his homeland,
And devastated his father’s household.
520 Priam’s sons paid twice over for their sins.
chorus
Rejoice, herald from the Achaean forces!
herald
I do!—And resist death no more, praise God!
chorus
Did longing for your fatherland bring pain?
herald
So much that my eyes fill with tears of joy!
28
chorus
525 This ill that struck you—sweet sorrow it was.
herald
How so? Teach, and I shall master your words.
chorus
What you longed for longed for you in return.
herald
You mean this land missed us as we missed it?
chorus
So much that many sighs came from darkened hearts.
herald
530 Why so sad at heart? What here is so foul?
chorus
For years now silence has cured against harm.
herald
Why? Lacking your kings, did you fear something?
chorus
Such that now, as with you, death would bring much joy.
herald
All has ended well, after long years’ time.
535 Some things, one could say, fell favourably,
While others, then again, were unlucky.
But who except a god lives a whole lifetime
Without sorrow or care? If I were to speak
Of our toils and troubles, the hard lodging,
29
540 The overcrowded decks and bad blankets—
But what didn’t we moan about? A share
Of trouble was rationed out by the day!
Dry land brought yet worse abomination.
We bedded down by our enemy’s walls,
545 And from the sky and from the meadowland
Came dews creeping constantly, bringing ruin
To our clothes and breeding vermin in our hair.
And if one were to speak of the winters,
When the insufferable snows of Ida
550 Killed the birds; or the summer heat, when the sea,
Becalmed on its noontime bed, with no breath
Of wind, sank into sleep—But why lament?
Our labour is over now; over, too,
For the dead, who care not to rise again.
555 Why recount the number of the fallen?
And must the living keep agonising
Over adverse fortune? Personally
I bid a large farewell to those troubles!
For us, the remaining Argive forces,
560 The advantage outweighs the suffering.
So may this rightful boast, made in the light
Of the sun, take wing over land and sea:
‘Troy, taken at last by the Argive army!
May the spoils be hung in our temples
565 For the everlasting glory of the gods
Of Hellas!’ Hearing this, one must praise our city
And its leaders, and honour him whose grace
Brought this to pass—Zeus. I have said my all.30
chorus
I embrace your superior speech: old men
570 Are ever young enough to learn rightly.
Such bears on Clytemnestra and the house
Most certainly, yet enriches us all.
[Clytemnestra enters.]
clytemnestra
Some time ago I raised my voice in joy,
When the first message-flame came by night,
575 Proclaiming Ilion’s capture and fall.
But some upbraided me, and said, ‘Signals
By fire? By this you are so convinced,
And reckon Troy to have been sacked? Truly
It is very much like a woman to grow
580 So excited in heart!’ Such words made me
Seem to be wayward in error; all the same,
I offered sacrifices to celebrate,
And, befitting womanly behaviour,
A loud joyous cry, and then another,
585 Drove throughout all the city in triumph,
And in the sanctuaries of the gods
The flames were soothed with sweet-smelling incense.
And now what need is there for you to tell
Me more? I shall learn the complete tale
590 From the king himself. In such way as best
Befits, I shall hasten to welcome back
My honoured husband. What, in woman’s eyes,
Is sweeter light than to unbolt the gates
For her man returning from war, whom God
595 Has preserved from death? Relate this message
To my lord: Come with all possible speed
31
Back to the city that desires him.
He shall come to find his faithful wife at home
Just as he left her, a very watchdog,
600 Loyal to him, hostile to the ill-inclined,
And in all ways resembling herself,
Not one pledge broken after all this time.
Of enjoyment from any other man
Or exposure to blameworthy gossip,
605 I know as much of that as dyeing bronze.
[Clytemnestra exits.]
herald
Such a boast as that, full of truth, does not
Dishonour the noble wife who utters it.
chorus
Thus she has spoken. It’s for you to learn
How sharp interpreters take such seemly speech.
610 But speak, Herald, tell us of Menelaus,
If he has returned safe and sound back here
Together with you—this land’s well-loved lord.
herald
I will not tell an elegant falsehood
So that friends can have pleasure for a time.
chorus
615 Oh if only when you speak of the truth
You hit upon the good! But it is plain
That a division has come between these.32
herald
The man has vanished from the Achaean fleet,
Himself and his ship. I speak no falsehood.
chorus
620 Did he set sail before the eyes of all
From Ilion, or did a storm, burdening
All in common, snatch him from the army?
herald
Like a skilled bowman you have hit the mark:
A long misery you’ve expressed in brief.
chorus
625 Of whether he is living or perished,
What talk passed between the other seamen?
herald
No one knows who can report for certain,
Except Helios, who tends life on earth.
chorus
Will you tell how the storm came to the fleet,
630 Then how this anger of the gods withdrew?
herald
It is inappropriate to blacken
An auspicious day with talk of bad news:
To honour the gods they should be kept apart.
A sombre-faced messenger reporting
635 To his people the grim calamity
Of their fallen army—a public wound
That strikes the city, with many a man
From many a home cursed by the twofold
33
Whip that Ares favours so, that double-
640 Pointed doom of fire and sword, a bloody pair—
I say, when he is laden with such woe,
It is fitting for him to sing the song
Of the victorious Furies. But when
The cause prevails, and a man brings good news
645 To a city rejoicing in its well-being—
In what way, then, do I mix good and bad,
To speak of the storm upon the Achaeans
Sent by the wrathful gods? To each other
They swore allegiance, hitherto the worst
650 Of enemies: the fire and the sea,
And to affirm their compact they destroyed
The unfortunate Argive fleet. At night
Arose the evils from the stormy swells.
From Thrace came wind gusts sending ships smashing
655 Into each other: these, butted fiercely
By the lashing squalls and hard rushing rain,
Were undone by the whirlwinds and herded
Cruelly away out of sight. Afterwards,
When the sun rose, in the brilliant daylight
660 We beheld the Aegean blossoming
With corpses of Achaean men and ships’
Wreckage. We, at any rate, and our ship,
Its hull intact, were snatched off or prayed for,
For surely some god, no human, took hold
665 Of the helm. Fortune our preserver came
Willingly aboard our ship, so neither
At anchor we took in surging waves nor
Ran aground on rocky shore. Thereupon,
Having avoided Hades on the sea,
670 In the bright day, not trusting our good luck,
We brooded over this late disaster,
The army distressed and in sorry plight;34
And now, if any of them still breathes, they talk
Of us as lost—and shouldn’t they? We say
675 The same of them. But may what comes to pass
Be for the best! For Menelaus, surely;
Most certainly expect him to return.
If at least one beam of sunshine reveals
Him alive and seeing the light of day
680 (Through the arts of Zeus, who not yet desires
To completely destroy the human race),
Some hope persists that he will come back home.
All this you have heard—you have heard the truth.
[Herald exits.]
chorus
Who was it that named thus in all ways true?
685 Was it someone we see not, whose foresight
Of destiny guided his tongue aright
To name you—bride of battles, contested
On all sides—Helen? For, fittingly named,
Destroyer of ship, of man, of city, from out
690 Of her rich and sumptuous curtains she sailed
