Эсхил
Book of illustrations : Ancient Tragedy
THE ELECTRA OF SOPHOCLES5
Scene Mycenae; the Stage and Orchestra arranged to represent the Market Place, Portico of a Temple in the Centre; Inferior door on one side is the gate to Palace of Aegisthus and Clytaemnestra, that on the other leads to the tomb of Agamemnon; Side-scene on one side gives a view of Argos. Enter from Distance side-door Orestes, Pylades and Attendant.
PROLOGUE
The aged Attendant points out to Orestes Argos, the Grove of Io, the Temple and other details of the Scene; it was just here he received Orestes as a boy when his father was slain and bore him to a place of safety; now the long wished for day of vengeance is come. Orestes acknowledges his long fidelity; relates how Phoebus has sent him with this oracle:
That I myself unarmed with shield or host {36}
Should subtly work the righteous deed of blood,
and details his plan: the Attendant, whose age will save him from recognition, shall announce the death of Orestes, while Orestes and Pylades shall perform the rites enjoined at his father's tomb; then, when the wrong-doers believe themselves secure, the avenger will easily gain admittance. [At this moment a woman's wail is heard within.] Orestes wonders if it may be his own Electra and would stop, the Attendant hurries him away to do the God's behest. {85}
Exeunt Orestes and Pylades on left to Tomb of Agamemnon; Attendant back through the Distance side-door. Enter from Palace Electra moaning and weeping.
MONODY
Electra in Lyric Monody. The light, the air, the loathed house and bed she sleeps on, all are witnesses of her ceaseless misery and woe, orphaned as she is of a father foully slain. She calls on the Curses, the Furies and other dread Powers who watch over evil slaughter to send Orestes, she can no longer bear up with sorrow's great burden cast into the balance. {120}
Enter by the Orchestral door Chorus of Argive Maidens to condole with Electra.
LYRIC CONCERTO (FOR PARODE)
Cho. Why mourn for ever the guileful slaughter of thy Father, accursed deed? —Electra. I know your kind and tender friendship, yet will never be dissuaded. —Cho. Yet what groans and prayers can raise thy sire from the doomed pool of Hades? you go from woes bearable to woes beyond bearing. —Elec. It is weak to forget parents so lost; rather for me the nightingale that ever wails 'Itys,' or Niobe weeping in stone. —Cho. Thou art not the only one who feels sorrow: there are thy sisters, and another now mourning in a youth obscure, but who will one day return to save. —Elec. Ah! him I yearn for, but he mocks my messages, and promises yet never comes. —Cho. Take heart: Time is a calm and patient deity; trusting in Zeus you will find neither Orestes nor the God of Acheron forgetful. —Elec. Yet meanwhile the larger portion of my life is gone; orphaned, un-wed, an alien stranger I serve in the house where I was wont to reign. —Cho. Ah! that sad day! Guile devised the blow and lust struck it! —Elec. Oh, most horrible day, most horrible night! the foul banquet! the dread forms of death he met with at their accursed hands, he who was my life! —Cho. But take care: excess of grief makes you utter what may bring you into trouble. —Elec. I know, but will never cease from uttering woe on woe: leave me, I am beyond soothing, and will never pause to count my tears. —Cho. It is with pure good will, as if a mother, I beg you not to heap ills on ills. —Elec. Is misery limited? is it noble to neglect the dead? if they escape without penalty fear of the Gods will be swept from the earth. {250}
EPISODE I
Chorus now changing to Blank Verse. We meant well, but do as you will, we will follow you. —Elec. I am indeed ashamed; but remember the trouble I am in: to be hated by my mother, house-mate with my father's murderers; with Aegisthus sitting on my father's throne by day and pouring libations on the hearth he violated; my mother not living in fear of the Erinnys, but making a red-letter day of the day my father died: I, alas! keep his birth day in solitary feast. I am bitterly chidden when caught weeping, and threatened when news comes of Orestes: all hope is far. – Aegisthus is from home, or she dared not have indulged her grief even thus far. {327}
Enter her sister, Chrysothemis, bearing funeral offerings. She remonstrates with Electra for uselessly wailing, instead of adapting herself to her fate. —Elec. retorts that she has learned her lesson by rote. She advises to hate when there is strength to back hatred, yet she will not join in working revenge. —Electra covets not her choice of ease and wealth, and to be called her mother's child, while it is open to her to be her father's! —Cho. moderates: each may learn something from the other. —Chrysoth. is accustomed to Electra's want of charity and would not now have accosted her except to warn her of new evils: they mean to get her out of the country and shut up in a dungeon where she shall never see the light of day. – A rapid stichomuthic dialogue follows as to temporizing and resisting, and then Chrys. is going to do her errand. —Elec. enquires what this is, and learns that Clytaemnestra, disturbed by a dream, is sending propitiatory libations.
A rumor ran {417}
That she had seen our father's presence come
(Yes, thine and mine) a second time to light,
And then that he upon the hearth stood up,
And took the sceptre which he bore of old,
Which now Aegisthus bears, and fixed it there,
And from it sprang a sucker fresh and strong,
And all Mycenae rested in its shade.
This tale I heard from some one who was near
When she declared her vision to the Sun;
But more than this I heard not, save that she
Now sends me hither through that fright of hers.
Electra catching a gleam of hope, adjures her to disobey, and in place of Clytaemnestra's offerings to put on the tomb their own: Electra's own withered lock and untrimmed girdle; and instead of propitiatory prayer pray to send Orestes. —Cho. approves and Chrysothemis catches the spirit and exit. {471}
CHORAL INTERLUDE I
in Strophe, Antistrophe and Epode.
If my mind misleads me not, Vengeance is coming with hands that bear the might of Righteousness; a new courage springs through my veins at these propitious dreams, that Agamemnon will not forget for aye, nor the axe that slew him. She too is coming, Erinnys shod with brass, dread form with many a foot and many a hand: never will the boding sign come falsely to those who did the deed, or men will find no prophecies in dreams. – Ah dreadful chariot race of Pelops, foundation of all the ills which have never since left the house. {315}
EPISODE II
Enter from Palace Clytaemnestra and Attendant. —Clyt. It is Aegisthus' absence that makes you bold enough to appear outside the Palace and disgrace us. I know your reproaches: but it was Justice, not I, that slew your father; what right had he to slay my child, born of my travails, and not some other Argive children, Menelaus's for example, whose the quarrel was? Had Hades a special lust to feed on my children? —Elec. This time at least it is not I who begin. I could reply if permitted. —Clyt. permits. —Elec. You admit the monstrous admission, that you slew your husband – for justice sake? or for the 'coward base' who is your paramour? You well know that the offence for which Artemis demanded the sacrifice was Agamemnon's slaughter of the Sacred Stag, and from his seed therefore the atonement must come which so unwillingly he made. And if not, is your plea blood for blood? then you will be the first to suffer. How can you plead thus while living in open guilt with him who slew your husband? It is a cruel mistress, not a mother, I revile: you charge me with rearing Orestes as minister of vengeance, I would indeed if I had strength! So proclaim me a monster, that will make me a fitting daughter of my mother. —Cho. Here is passion rather than care to speak right. —Clyt. Thus to show scorn for her mother! she will go all lengths and feel no shame. —Elec. Shame I do feel, but the deeds which beget the shame are yours. —Clyt. By Artemis, you shall pay for this when Aegisthus comes! —Elec. I thought I had leave to speak. —Clyt. Will you not be silent and let me perform my rites without disorder? —Elec. Now I am silent (Retires). —Clyt. then proceeds to offer her gifts to Phoebus, with prayer to avert the ill omen of the past night: as her prayer "is not amongst friends," she can allude but darkly to all she means, but He is a God and will understand all she leaves unsaid. {659}
Enter by the Distance-door Attendant of Orestes.
Enquiring of Chorus he finds he is arrived before the people he is seeking, and announces to Clytaemnestra that Orestes is dead. Electra utters a wail of agony, while Clyt. asks for particulars. Then follows the regular 'Messenger's Speech,' a detailed and graphic account of a chariot race, in which he was thrown and killed. —Clyt. trembles between joy at deliverance from her suspense, and a touch of motherly feeling; still she triumphs over the now hopeless Electra: for him, what is is well.
Elec. Hear this, thou Power avenging him who died! Clyt. Right well she heard, and what she heard hath wrought.
The Messenger is taken into the Palace, Electra left to wail without, with attempt of Chorus to condole (lyric concerto). {870}
Enter from Tomb of Agamemnon Chrysothemis jubilant and bearing a lock of hair of Orestes.
She eagerly insists that Orestes is come; shows the lock and describes the libations that no other would pour on that tomb. Bit by bit Electra checks her joy, and informs her of the news. They mourn together, till Electra breaks out with proposal, that since their friends are snatched from them, and they two are left alone, they shall themselves work their revenge; that will be the safest and will bring glory: 'the sisters twain who saved their father's house.' —Chor. This requires consideration. —Chry. Will you never learn that you are a woman and not a man? Elec. then declares she will do it herself, and after a stichomuthic contest exit Chrysothemis. {1057}
CHORAL INTERLUDE II
In two Strophes and Antistrophes.
The storks show a pattern of filial piety: why do not men follow it? By Zeus and Themis there is a punishment for the unfilial; may the voice crying for vengeance reach the sons of Atreus below! Their house is full of woe; Electra, alone faithful, is ready to face death if only she may destroy the twin furies. The great and good will purchase glory with life; so may'st thou prevail and gain the name of the best of daughters. {1096}
EPISODE III
Enter from Distance-door Orestes, Pylades and Attendants.
Orestes informs the Chorus, and Electra as one of the household, that they bear the urn containing the ashes of Orestes, whose death they had sent forward a messenger to announce. Electra begs to clasp the urn and pours over it a flood of grief; here is nothingness to represent the dear boy she sent out in bloom of youth; and all her forethought has perished! And he died amid strangers without her to take part in the funeral rites! All her sweet toil in nursing him with more than mother's love is gone! All is gone – father, mother, brother! She would go too; they ever shared an equal lot; now let her go to him, ashes to ashes! {1170}
Chor. Thou, O Electra, take good heed, wast born Of mortal father; mortal, too, Orestes, Yield not too much to sorrow. Ores. [Trembling.] Woe is me. What shall I say? Ah, whither find my way, In words that have no issue? for I fail In strength to curb my speech. Elec. What sorrow now Disturbs thee? Wherefore art thou speaking thus? Ores. Is this Electra's noble form I see? Elec. That self-same form indeed, in piteous case. Ores. Alas, alas, for this sad lot of thine. Elec. Surely thou dost not wail, O friend, for me! Ores. O form most basely, godlessly misused. Elec. Thy words, ill-omened, fall, O friend, on none But me alone. Ores. Alas, for this thy state, Unwedded, hopeless. Elec. Why, O friend, on me With such fixed glance still gazing dost thou groan? Ores. How little knew I of my fortune's ills! Elec. What have I said to throw such light on them? Ores. Now that I see thee thus, with many woes Clothed as a garment. Elec. Yet thou dost but see A few of all my evils. Ores. What could be More sad than these to look on? Elec. This, to live And sit at meat with murderers. Ores. With whose? What evil dost thou indicate by this? Elec. My father's; 'tis to them, against my will I live in bondage. Ores. Who constrains thee, then? Elec. My mother she is called; and yet in nought Is she what mother should be. Ores. In what acts? By blows and stripes, or this unseemly life? Elec. Both blows, unseemly life, and all vile deeds. Ores. And is there none to help? Not one to check? Elec. No, none. Who was.. thou buryest him as dust. Ores. O sad one! How I pitied thee long since. Elec. Know, then, thou art the only pitying one. {1200} Ores. For I alone am hurt by these thy woes. Elec. Surely thou dost not come by line of blood Connected with us. Ores. I could tell thee all, Were these thy friends. Elec. Most friendly are they; speak As unto faithful hearers. Ores. Put away That urn awhile that thou may'st hear the whole. Elec. Ah! By the Gods, O stranger, ask not that. Ores. Do what I bid thee, and thou shalt not err. Elec. Now, by thy beard, deprive me not of that I hold most dear. Ores. I say it cannot be. Elec. Ah me, Orestes, wretched shall I be, Bereaved of this thy tomb. Ores. Hush, hush such words; Thou has no cause for wailing. Elec. Have no cause! Do I not wail my brother, who is dead? Ores. Thou hast no call to utter speech like this. Elec. And am I so dishonoured by the dead? Ores. By none art thou dishonoured. But this thing Is nought to thee. Elec. And yet it needs must be, If 'tis Orestes' body that I bear. Ores. Except in show of speech it is not his. Elec. Where, then, is that poor exile's sepulchre? Ores. Of those that live there is no sepulchre. {1219} Elec. What say'st thou, boy? Ores. No falsehood what I say. Elec. And does he live? Ores. He lives, if I have life. Elec. What, art thou he? Ores. Look thou upon this seal, My father's once, and learn if I speak truth. Elec. O blessed day! Ores. Most blessed, I too own. Elec. O voice! And art thou come? Ores. No longer learn That news from others. Elec. And I have thee here, Here in my grasp! Ores. So may'st thou always have me. Elec. O dearest friends, my fellow-citizens, Look here on this Orestes, dead indeed In feigned craft, and by that feigning saved. Chor. We see it, daughter; and at what has chanced A tear of gladness trickles from our eyes. {1231}
A passionate dialogue (in mixed verse: Electra, speaking lyrics, Orestes Blank Verse) of exultation and weeping succeeds: until finally Orestes is calling back their thoughts to the plans of vengeance when enter from Palace Attendant of Orestes, who chides them for their loud joy, which he has barely been able to prevent from reaching the ears of Clytaemnestra. Electra is informed who this attendant is, and joyfully recognizes him and calls him father for his faithfulness. He cuts conversation short and hurries Orestes and Pylades within. Electra with a prayer retires. {1383}
CHORAL INTERLUDE III
Short expression of the sense of a critical moment: Strophe, Ares and the Avengers are on their way —Antistrophe, they have passed beneath the roof-tree. {1397}
EXODUS, OR FINALE
Electra rushes out to stand on guard against Aegisthus while vengeance is being done on Clytaemnestra. – Cries from within; Electra and Chorus perceive that the deed is done. – Enter Orestes and Pylades from the Palace red-handed; they are about to triumph when Electra thrusts them back, for Aegisthus is at hand. —Enter Aegisthus enquiring for the strangers of Electra. {1442}
Aegis. Where are the strangers, then? Tell this to me.
Elec. Within; for they have found a loving hostess.
Aegis. And did they say distinctly he was dead?
Elec. Ah no! they showed it, not in words alone.
Aegis. And is it here, that we may see it plain?
Elec. 'Tis here, a sight most pitiful to see.
Aegis. Against thy wont thou giv'st me cause for joy.
Elec. Thou may'st rejoice, if this be ground of joy.
Aegis. I hid you hush, and open wide the gates
That all of Argos and Mycenae see,
So if there be that once were lifted up
With hopes they had, vain hopes they fixed on him,
Now seeing him dead, they may receive my curb,
And finding me their master, sense may gain
Without coercion.
Elec. And that end is reached
By me; for I by time have wisdom gained,
To yield to those more mighty.
The doors are thrown open, and disclose Orestes and Pylades standing by the dead body of Clytaemnestra, which is covered with a sheet and a veil over the face.
Aegis. Lo, I see,
O Zeus, a sight that comes right well for me.
(Without offence I say it; should it move
The wrath divine, I wish it all unsaid.)
Withdraw the veil which hides the face, that I
To kindred blood may pay the meed of tears.
Ores. Do thou uplift it. 'Tis thy task not mine,
To look on this, and kindly words to speak.
Aegis. Thou giv'st good counsel, and I list to thee,
And thou, if yet she tarries in the house,
Call Clytaemnestra.
Ores. (as Aegisthus lifts the veil) Here she lies before thee,
Seek her not elsewhere, {1474}
Aegis. Oh what sight is this!
Ores. Whom fearest thou? Who is't thou dost not know?
Aegis. Into whose snares, whose closely-tangled mesh
Have I, poor victim, fallen?
Ores. Saw'st thou not
Long since that thou didst speak to them that live
As they were dead?
Aegis. Ah me! I catch thy words.
It needs must be that he who speaks to me
Is named Orestes.
Ores. Wert thou then deceived,
Thou excellent diviner?
Aegis. Woe is me!
I perish, yet permit me first to speak
One little word.
Elec. Give him no leave to speak,
By all the gods, my brother, nor to spin
His long discourse. When men are plunged in ills
What gain can one who stands condemned to die
Reap from delay? No, slay him out of hand;
And, having slain him, cast him forth, to find
Fit burial at their hands from whom 'tis meet
That he should have it, far away from view.
Thus only shall I gain a remedy
For all the evils of the years gone by.
Ores. [To Aegisthus.] Go thou within, and quickly.
Now our strife
Is not of words, but for thy life itself.
Aegis. Why dost thou force me in? If this be right,
What need of darkness? Why not slay at once?
Ores. Give thou no orders, but where thou did'st slay
My father go, that thou too there may'st die.
Aegis. Truly the doom is fixed, this house should see
The ills that on the house of Pelops fall,
Or present, or to come.
Ores. Yes, those that fall
On thee: of these I am a prophet true.
Aegis. Thou boastest of a skill which he had not —
Thy father.
Ores. Still thou bandiest many words,
And length'nest out the way. Move on.
Aegis. Lead thou.
Ores. Not so, thou must go first.
Aegis. Dost think I'll flee?
Ores. Thou must not die the death thou would'st desire.
I needs must make it utter. Doom like this
Should fall on all who dare transgress the laws,
The doom of death. Then wickedness no more
Would multiply its strength.
Chor. O seed of Atreus, after many woes,
Thou hast come forth, thy freedom hardly won,
By this emprise made perfect!
[1
THE ELECTRA OF EURIPIDES6
PROLOGUE
The Scene is in front of a Peasant's Cottage: the Centre is the door of the Cottage, the scene on the two sides of it represents the ways to fields and to the river. Time: early Morning, the stars still shining.
Enter from the Cottage the Peasant on his way to his day's work. In the form of a Morning Prayer to the stream Inachus, he makes known the situation of affairs, the murder of Agamemnon, etc. – and in particular how Aegisthus, fearing lest some nobleman might marry Electra and be her avenger, had forced her into wedlock with himself, a peasant, honest but in the lowest poverty. But he is too good a friend to his master's house and to the absent Orestes to wrong Electra; he has been a husband only in name, to give her the shelter of his humble roof. Enter Electra from the Cottage with a watering pot: not seeing the Peasant she in a similar soliloquy announces that she is on her way to the river to prosecute her unnatural toil.
Peas. Why will thou thus, unhappy lady, toil
For my sake bearing labours, nor desist
At my desire? Not thus hast thou been train'd.
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 pow'r,
Lenient of grief, must be a mighty source
Of consolations. It behoves me then,
Far as my pow'r avails, to ease thy toils,
That lighter thou may'st 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.
Accustom'd all things grateful there to find.
Peas. Go then, since such thy will; nor distant far
The fountain from the house. At the first dawn
My bullocks yoked I to the field will drive,
And sow my furrows; for no idle wretch
With the gods always in the mouth can gain
Without due labour the support of life. {95}
Stage vacant a moment. Then enter by Distance-door Orestes and Pylades.
Orestes in conversation with his friend makes known he is come by divine command to avenge his father's death: he has fulfilled the god's first charge to present offerings on his father's tomb; the second is that he must not enter the walls of the city; thus he wishes to find his sister – now, as he hears, wedded to a peasant! – and consult – they step aside as they see one whom 'female slave her tresses show' approaching. {127}
Re-enter Electra with her water-pot filled: and in a Monody (strophe, antistrophe and epode) laments her situation: laments for her lost father, her brother afar off, in servitude it may be: and adjures her father's spirit to send vengeance. {187}
PARODE JOINING ON TO EPISODE I
Enter the Orchestra Chorus of Maidens of Mycenae, and in dialogue (two Strophes and Antistrophes) beg Electra to join them in an approaching festival, as she had been wont in happier days. – Electra declares she is fit for tears and rags, not for festivities. – As for rags they will find her the festal robes; and vows, instead of tears may gain the goddess's help. – No god, says Electra, has an ear for the wretched, and in wretched toil and obscure retreat her life is wasting away. —A sob from the concealed Orestes startles them, and they are about to flee, when Orestes and Pylades discover themselves and reassure them. With difficulty he restrains his emotions throughout a long conversation, personating a messenger from himself to Electra.
Ores. Bearing thy brother's words to thee I come. {251} Elec. Most welcome: breathes he yet this vital air? Ores. He lives: I first would speak what brings thee joy. Elec. Oh 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 charg'd? Ores. T' inquire, if living, where thou bear'st 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 deem'st 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 join'd – Ores. I feel thy brother's grief! – To one of rank? Elec. Not as my father once to place me hop'd – 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. Elec. Generous, though poor, in reverence me he holds. Ores. To thee what reverence doth thy husband pay? Elec. He never hath presumed t' approach my bed.
The conversation is prolonged, bringing out for the benefit of the Strangers and the Chorus the whole of Electra's troubles, and how her father's blood is crying for vengeance.
Elec. The monarch's tomb
Unhonoured, nor libations hath receiv'd,
Nor myrtle bough, no hallow'd ornament
Hath dignified the pyre. Inflamed with wine,
My mother's husband, the illustrious lord,
For so they call him, trampled 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. {371}
Enter unexpectedly the Peasant. On hearing that these strangers are messengers from Orestes, he instantly calls for refreshments to be brought, and begs the stranger to delay no longer to enter the cottage: poverty must be no excuse for not offering what hospitality he has. – A burst of admiration is drawn from Orestes. {400}
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 approv'd 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
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. {438}
[Orestes and his attendants enter the house.]
Electra is in a quandary at the idea of people of such rank being invited into her humble cottage.
Peas. Why not? If they are noble, as their port Denotes them, will they not alike enjoy Contentment, be their viands mean or rich?
The only device Electra can think of is to send to an old servant of her father's house – the same who, as Tutor, preserved the child Orestes on the fatal night – now an aged herdsman forced to hide himself in obscurity, and ask him to help them in this emergency. Exit Peasant to the fields to find the old Tutor; Electra into the cottage. {474}
CHORAL INTERLUDE I
apostrophises the array of ships that went to the Trojan war, the great chiefs who commanded, especially Achilles, whose shield they have seen, with its Gorgons, and Sphinxes, and Hermes in flight, and other wondrous figures – suddenly at the end connects itself with the subject of the play by the thought: it was the Prince who commanded heroes like these that a wicked wife dared to slay! {530}
EPISODE II
Enter from the fields the Aged Tutor, tottering under the weight of a kid and other viands, clad in rags, and in tears. Electra wonders why he weeps: to mourn for Agamemnon or Orestes is surely now to mourn in vain.
Tut. In vain; but this my soul could not support; {553}
For to his tomb as on the way I came,
I turned aside, and falling on the ground,
Alone and unobserved, indulg'd my tears;
Then of the wine, brought for thy stranger guests,
Made a libation, and around the tomb
Plac'd 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;
I marvell'd, O my child, what man had dar'd
Approach the tomb, for this no Argive dares.
Perchance with secret step thy brother came
And paid these honors to his father's tomb.
But view these locks, compare them with thine own,
Whether like thine their color; 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 Aegisthus. Then between our locks
What can th' agreement be? To manly toils
He in the rough Palaestra hath been train'd,
Mine by the comb are soften'd; so that hence
Nothing may be inferr'd. Besides, old man,
Tresses like-color'd often may'st thou find
Where not one drop of kindred blood is shar'd.
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 snatch'd from death he was array'd?
Elec. Know'st 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 array'd, unless his vests
Grew with his person's growth? No, at the tomb
Some stranger, touch'd with pity, sheared his locks,
Or native, by the tyrant's spies unmark'd.
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. {599}
Re-enter Orestes and Pylades: Conversation in which the aged Tutor eyes him curiously all over, and declares he is Orestes – general recognition and burst of joy. – Then they turn to vengeance, and in stichomuthic dialogue lay their plans. Aegisthus, the Tutor says, is to come to a neighboring field to celebrate a sacrifice; they lay a plan for Orestes and Pylades to gain admission as travellers and kill him in the moment of sacrifice. As to Clytaemnestra: a report is prevalent in the palace that Electra has given birth to a child; they conspire to give currency to the report and invite Clytaemnestra to perform the ten days' rite: once in the house, Orestes will do the dreadful deed; they tremble at their horrid tasks, but their father must be avenged. —Exeunt Orestes and, his Attendants to the fields; and Electra to the Cottage begging the Chorus, who are privy to all this as confidential friends, to keep watch and summon her if news comes. {763}