Chapter 5

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 quotations of Sophocles are (mostly) from Plumptre's translation.

THE ELECTRA OF EURIPIDES[1]

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.