Euripides
The Tragedies of Euripides, Volume I.
CHORUS
Against me was it fated that calamity, against me was it fated that woe should spring, when Paris first hewed the pine in Ida's forest, preparing to cut his way over the ocean surge to the bed of Helen, the fairest that the sun's golden beams shine upon. For toils, and fate more stern than toils, close us round: and from the folly of one came a public calamity fatal to the land of Simois, and woes springing from other woes: and when the dispute was decided, which the shepherd decided between the three daughters of the blessed Gods on Ida's top, for war, and slaughter, and the desolation of my palaces. And many a Spartan virgin at her home on the banks of the fair-flowing Eurotas sighs while bathed in tears: and many an aged matron strikes her hand against her hoary head, for her children who have perished, and tears her cheek making her nails all blood-stained with her wounds.
FEMALE ATTENDANT, CHORUS, HECUBA
ATT. O attendants, where, I pray, is the all-wretched Hecuba, who surpasses the whole race of man and woman kind in calamities? no one shall wrest from her the crown.
CHOR. But what dost thou want, O wretch, in thy words of ill omen? for thy messages of woe never rest.
ATT. I bring this grief to Hecuba; but in calamity 'tis no easy thing for men to speak words of good import.
CHOR. And see, she is coming out of the house, and appears in the right time for thy words.
ATT. O all-wretched mistress, and yet still more wretched than I can express in words, thou art undone, and no longer beholdest the light, childless, husbandless, cityless, entirely destroyed.
HEC. Thou has said nothing new, but hast reproached me who already know it: but why dost thou bring this corse of my Polyxena, whose sepulture was reported to me as in a state of active progress through the labors of all the Grecians?
ATT. She nothing knows, but, woe's me! laments Polyxena, nor does she apprehend her new misfortunes.
HEC. O wretched me! dost bring hither the body of the frantic and inspired Cassandra?
ATT. She whom thou mentionedst, lives; but thou dost not weep for him who is dead; but behold this corse cast naked [on the shore,] and look if it will appear to thee a wonder, and what thou little expectest.
HEC. Alas me! I do indeed see my son Polydore a corse, whom (I fondly hoped) the man of Thrace was preserving in his palace. Now am I lost indeed, I no longer exist. Oh my child, my child! Alas! I begin the Bacchic strain, having lately learned my woes from my evil genius.
ATT. Thou knowest then the calamity of thy son, O most unfortunate.
HEC. I see incredible evils, still fresh, still fresh: and my immeasurable woes follow one upon the other. No longer will a day without a tear, without a groan, have part with me.
CHOR. Dreadful, oh! dreadful are the miseries that we endure!
HEC. O child, child of a wretched mother, by what fate art thou dead, by what hap liest thou here? by the hand of what man?
ATT. I know not: on the wave-washed shore I found him.
HEC. Cast up from the sea, or fallen by the blood-stained spear? (Note19.)
ATT. The ocean's billow cast him up from the deep on the smooth sand.
HEC. Woe is me! Now understand I the dream, the vision of mine eyes; the black-winged phantom has not flitted by me in vain, which I saw concerning thee, my child, as being no longer in the light of day.
CHOR. But who slew him? canst thou, O skilled in dreams, declare him?
HEC. My friend, my friend, who curbs the steed in Thrace, where his aged father placed him for concealment.
CHOR. Ah me! what wilt thou say? Was it to possess his gold that he slew him!
HEC. Unutterable deeds, unworthy of a name, surpassing miracles, unhallowed, insufferable! Where are the laws of hospitality? O most accurst of men, how didst thou mar that skin, how sever with the cruel sword the poor limbs of this boy, nor didst feel pity?
CHOR. O hapless woman, how has the deity made thee by far the most wretched of mortals, whoever he be that presses heavy on thee! But, my friends, let us henceforward be silent, for I see our lord Agamemnon advancing.
AGAMEMNON, CHORUS, HECUBA
AGA. Why, Hecuba, delayest thou to come, and bury thy girl in her tomb, agreeably to what Talthybius told me, that no one of the Argives should be suffered to touch thy daughter. For our part we leave her alone, and touch her not; but thou art slow, whereat I am astonished. I am come therefore to fetch thee, for every thing there has been well and duly performed, if aught of well there be in this. Ah! what corse is this I see before the tent? some Trojan's too? for that it is no Grecian's, the robes that vest his limbs inform me.
HEC. (aside) Thou ill-starr'd wretch! myself I mean, when I say "thou." O Hecuba, what shall I do? Shall I fall at the knees of Agamemnon here, or bear my ills in silence?
AGA. Why dost lament turning thy back upon me, and sayest not what has happened? Who is this?
HEC. (aside) But should he, thinking me a slave, an enemy, spurn me from his knees, I should be adding to my present sufferings.
AGA. No prophet I, so as to trace, unless by hearing, the path of thy counsels.
HEC. (aside) Am I not rather then putting an evil construction on this man's thoughts, whereas he has no evil intention toward me?
AGA. If thou art willing that I should nothing of this affair, thou art of a mind with me, for neither do I wish to hear.
HEC. (aside) I can not without him take vengeance for my children. Why do I thus hesitate? I must be bold, whether I succeed, or fail. Agamemnon, by these knees, and by thy beard I implore thee, and by thy blessed hand —
AGA. What thy request? Is it to pass thy life in freedom? for this is easy for thee to obtain.
HEC. Not this indeed; but so that I avenge myself on the bad, I am willing to pass my whole life in slavery.
AGA. And for what assistance dost thou call on me?
HEC. In none of those things which thou imaginest, O king. Seest thou this corse, o'er which I drop the tear?
AGA. I see it; thy meaning however I can not learn from this.
HEC. Him did I once bring forth, him bore I in my bosom.
AGA. Is this indeed one of thy children, O unhappy woman?
HEC. It is, but not of the sons of Priam who fell under the walls of Troy.
AGA. Didst thou then bear any other besides those, O lady?
HEC. In vain, as it appears, this whom you see.
AGA. But where did he chance to be, when the city fell?
HEC. His father sent him out of the country, dreading his death.
AGA. Whither, having removed him alone of his children then alive?
HEC. To this country, where he was found a corse.
AGA. To him who is king over this state, to Polymestor?
HEC. Hither was he sent, the guardian of gold, which proved most destructive to him.
AGA. By whose hand then he is dead, and having met with what fate?
HEC. By whom else should he? The Thracian host slew him.
AGA. O wretch! was he so inflamed with the desire of obtaining the gold?
HEC. Even so, after he had heard of Troy's disasters.
AGA. And where didst thou find him, or who brought the body?
HEC. She, meeting with it on the sea-shore.
AGA. In quest of it, or occupied in some other employment?
HEC. She was going to bring from the sea wherewith to bathe Polyxena.
AGA. This friend then, as it seems, murdered him, and after that cast him out.
HEC. To toss upon the waves thus gashing his body.
AGA. O thou unhappy from thy unmeasured ills!
HEC. I perish, no woe is left, O Agamemnon.
AGA. Alas! alas! What woman was ever so unfortunate?
HEC. There is none, except you reckon Misfortune herself. But for what cause I fall at thy knees, now hear: if I appear to you to suffer these ills justly, I would be reconciled to them; but if otherwise, be thou my avenger on this man, this most impious of false friends; who revering neither the Gods beneath20 the earth, nor the Gods above, hath done this most unholy deed, having often partaken of the same table with me, [and in the list of hospitality the first of my friends; and having met with whatever was due,21 and having received a full consideration for his services,22] slew him, and deigned not to give him a tomb, which he might have given, although he purposed to slay him, but cast him forth at the mercy of the waves. We indeed are slaves, and perhaps weak; but the Gods are strong, and strong the law, which governs them; for by the law we judge that there are Gods, and we live having justice and injustice strictly defined; which if when referred to thee it be disregarded, and they shall suffer no punishment who slay their guests, or dare to pollute the hallowed statutes of the Gods, there is nothing equitable in the dealings of men. Beholding these things then in a base and proper light, reverence me; pity me, and, as the artist stands aside to view a picture, do thou view my living portrait, and see what woes I am enduring. Once was I a queen, but now I am thy slave; once was I blest in my children, but now aged, and at the same time childless, cityless, destitute, the most miserable of mortals. Alas me wretched! whither withdrawest from me thy foot? It seems23 I shall make no impression, wretch that I am. Why then do we mortals toil after all other sciences, as a matter of duty, and dive into them, but least of all strive to learn thoroughly Persuasion, the sole mistress o'er the minds of men, giving a price for her knowledge, that at some time we may have it in our power at once to persuade and obtain what we wish? – How then can any one hereafter hope that he shall be fortunate? So many children that I had, and now not one is left to me. But I am perishing a captive in base servitude, and yet see the smoke there leaping aloft from the city. And however this part of my argument may perchance be vain, the bringing forward love; still nevertheless it shall be urged. My daughter is wont to sleep by thy side, that prophetess, whom the Trojans call Cassandra. Where wilt thou show that thy nights were nights of love, O king, or will my daughter receive any recompense for her most fond embraces, and I through her? [For from the secret shade, and from night's joys, the greatest delight is wont to spring to mortals.] Now then attend. Thou seest this corse? Him assisting, thou wilt assist one joined to thee in affinity. One thing my speech wants yet. I would fain I had a voice in my arms, and hands, and in my hair, and in my footsteps, or by the skill of Dædalus, or some God, that each at once might hold thy knees, weeping, and imploring in all the strains of eloquence. O my lord. O greatest light of the Greeks, be persuaded; lend thy hand to avenge this aged woman, although she is of no consequence, yet avenge her. For it belongs to a good man to minister justice, and always and in every case to punish the bad.
CHOR. It is strange, how every thing happens to mortals, and laws determine even the fates, making the greatest enemies friends, and enemies of those who before were on good terms.
AGA. I, O Hecuba, have pity both on thee and thy son, thy misfortunes, and thy suppliant touch, and I am willing in regard both to the Gods and to justice, that this impious host should give thee full revenge, provided a way could be found, that both you might be gratified, and I might in the eyes of the army not seem to meditate this destruction against the king of Thrace for Cassandra's sake. For there is a point in which apprehension hath reached me. This man the army deems a friend, the dead an enemy; but if he is dear to thee, this is a private feeling and does not affect the army. Wherefore consider, that thou hast me willing to labor with thee, and ready to assist thee, but backward, should I be murmured against among the Greeks.
HEC. Alas! no mortal is there who is free. For either he is the slave of money or of fortune; or the populace of the city or the dictates of the law constrain him to adopt manners not accordant with his natural inclinations. But since thou fearest, and payest too much regard to the multitude, I will liberate thee from this fear. For consent with me, if I meditate vengeance against the murderer of this youth, but do not act with me. But should any tumult or offer of assistance arise from out of the Greeks, when the Thracian feels the punishment he shall feel, suppress it, not appearing to do it for my sake: but of the rest be confident: I will dispose all things well.
AGA. How then? What wilt thou do? Wilt thou grasp the sword in thine aged hand, and strike the barbarian? or with poison wilt thou work, or with what assistance? What hand will conspire with thee? whence wilt thou procure friends?
HEC. These tents inclose a host of Trojan dames.
AGA. Meanest thou the captives, the booty of the Greeks?
HEC. With these will I avenge me of my murderer.
AGA. And how shall the victory over men be to women?
HEC. Numbers are powerful, with stratagem invincible.
AGA. Powerful, I grant; I mistrust however the race of women.
HEC. And why? Did not women slay the sons of Ægyptus,24 and utterly extirpated the race of men from Lemnos?25 But thus let it be. Give up this discussion. But grant this woman to pass in safety through the army. And do thou go to the Thracian host and tell him, "Hecuba, once queen of Troy, sends for you on business of no less importance to yourself than to her, and your sons likewise, since it is of consequence that your children also should hear her words." – And do thou, O Agamemnon, as yet forbear to raise the tomb over the newly-sacrificed Polyxena, that these two, the brother and the sister, the divided care of their mother, may, when reduced to ashes by one and the same flame, be interred side by side.
AGA. Thus shall it be. And yet, if the army could sail, I should not have it in my power to grant thy request: but now, for the deity breathes not prosperous gales, we must wait, watching for a calm voyage. But may things turn out well some way or other: for this is a general principle among all, both individuals in private and states, That the wicked man should feel vengeance, but the good man enjoy prosperity.
CHORUS
O thou, my country of Troy, no longer shall thou be called the city of the invincible, such a cloud of Grecians envelops thee, with the spear, with the spear having destroyed thee. And thou hast been shorn of thy crown of turrets, and thou hast been discolored by the dismal blackness of smoke; hapless city, no longer shall I tread my steps in thee.
In the midnight hour I perished, when after the feast sweet sleep is scattered over the eyes. And my husband, from the song and cheerful sacrifice retired, was sleeping peacefully in my bed, his spear on its peg, no more dreaming to behold the naval host of the Greeks treading the streets of Troy. But I was binding my braided hair with fillets fastened on the top of mine head, looking into the round polished surface of the golden mirror, that I might get into my bed prepared for me. On a sudden a tumultuous cry penetrated the city; and this shout of exhortation was heard in the streets of Troy, "When indeed, ye sons of Grecians, when, if not now, will ye return to your homes having overthrown the proud citadel of Ilium!" And having left my dear bed, in a single robe, like a Spartan virgin, flying for aid to the venerable shrine of Diana, I hapless fled in vain. And I am dragged, after having seen my husband slain, to the ocean waves; and casting a distant look back upon my city, after the vessel had begun her way in her return to Greece, and divided me from the land of Troy, I wretched fainted through anguish. And consigning to curses Helen, the sister of the Twin Brothers, and the Idean shepherd, the ruthless Paris, since his marriage, no marriage, but some Fury's hate hath utterly destroyed me far from my native land, and hath driven me from my home. Whom may the ocean refuse ever to bear back again; and may she never reach again her paternal home.
POLYMESTOR, HECUBA, CHORUS
POLY. O Priam, thou dearest of men, and thou most dear Hecuba, at thy sight I weep for thee, and thy city, and thy daughter who has lately died. Alas! there is nothing secure, neither glory, nor when one is faring well is there a certainty that he will not fare ill. But the Gods mingle these things promiscuously to and fro, making all confusion, so that we through ignorance may worship them. But wherefore should I utter these plaints, which in no way tend to free thee from thy former calamities. But thou, if thou hast aught to blame for my absence, forbear; for I chanced to be afar off in the middle of my Thracian territories, when thou camest hither; but soon as I returned, as I was already setting out from my house, this maid of thine met me for the self-same purpose, and delivered thy message, which when I had heard, I came.
HEC. O Polymestor, I am ashamed to look thee in the face, sunk as I am in such miseries; for before one who has seen me in prosperity, shame overwhelms me, being in the state in which I now am, nor can I look upon thee with unmoved eyes. But impute not this to any enmity I bear thee; but there are other causes, and in some degree this law; "that women ought not to gaze at men."
POLY. And 'tis indeed no wonder; but what need hast thou of me? for what purpose didst thou send for me to come from home?
HEC. I am desirous of communicating a private affair of my own to thee and thy children; but order thy attendants to retire from these tents.
POLY. Depart, for here to be alone is safe. Friendly thou art, this Grecian army too is friendly toward me, but it is for thee to signify, in what manner I, who am in good circumstances, ought to succor my friends in distress; since, on my part, I am ready.
HEC. First then tell me of my son Polydore, whom thou retainest, receiving him from mine, and from his father's hand, if he live; but the rest I shall inquire of thee afterward.
POLY. He lives, and in good health; as far as regards him indeed thou art happy.
HEC. O my best friend, how well thou speakest, and how worthily of thyself!
POLY. What dost thou wish then to inquire of me in the next place?
HEC. Whether he remembers at all me, his mother?
POLY. Yes: and he even sought to come to thee by stealth.
HEC. And is the gold safe, which he brought with him from Troy?
POLY. It is safe, at least it is guarded in my house.
HEC. Preserve it therefore, nor covet the goods of others.
POLY. Certainly not. May I enjoy what is mine own, O lady.
HEC. Knowest thou then, what I wish to say to thee and thy children?
POLY. I do not: this shalt thou signify by thy speech.
HEC. Be my son loved by thee, as thou art now loved of me.
POLY. What is it, that I and my sons must know?
HEC. The ancient buried treasures of the family of Priam.
POLY. Is it this thou wishest me to inform thy son of?
HEC. Yes, certainly; through thee at least, for thou art a pious man.
POLY. What necessity then is there for the presence of these children?
HEC. 'Tis better in case of thy death, that these should know.
POLY. Well hast thou thus said, and 'tis the wiser plan.
HEC. Thou knowest then where the temple of Minerva in Troy is —
POLY. Is the gold there! but what is the mark?
HEC. A black rock rising above the earth.
POLY. Hast any thing further to tell me of what is there?
HEC. No, but I wish thee to take care of some treasures, with which I came out of the city.
POLY. Where are they then? Hast thou them hidden beneath thy robes?
HEC. Amidst a heap of spoils they are preserved in this tent.
POLY. But where? These are the naval encampments of the Grecians.
HEC. The habitations of the captive women are private.
POLY. And is all secure within, and untenanted by men?
HEC. Not one of the Greeks is within, but we women only. But come into the tent, for the Greeks are desirous of loosing the sheets of their vessels homeward from Troy; so that, having done every thing that thou oughtest, thou mayest go with thy children to that place where thou hast given my son to dwell.
CHOR. Not yet hast thou suffered, but peradventure thou wilt suffer vengeance; as a man falling headlong into the gulf where no harbor is, shalt thou be hurled from thy dear heart, having lost thy life;26 for where the rites of hospitality coincide27 with justice, and with the Gods, on the villain who dares to violate these destructive, destructive indeed impends the evil. But thy hopes will deceive thee, which thou entertainedst from this journey, which has brought thee, thou wretched man, to the deadly mansions of Pluto; but thou shalt quit thy life by no warrior's hand.
