Chapter 6

_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}

CHORAL INTERLUDE II

_Strophe_ 1. The Argive mountains round, 'Mongst tales of ancient days From age to age recorded this remains: Tuned to mellifluous lays, Pan taught his pipe to sound, And as he breath'd the sprightly-swelling strains, The beauteous ram, with fleece of gold, God of shepherds, on he drove. The herald from the rock above Proclaims, "Your monarch's wonders to behold, "Wonders to sight, from which no terrors flow, "Go, Mycenaeans, to th' assembly go." With reverence they obey the call, And fill th' Atridae's spacious hall.

_Antis._ Its gates with gold o'erlaid, Wide oped each Argive shrine, And from the altar hallow'd flames arise; Amidst the rites divine, Joying the Muse to aid, Breath'd the brisk pipe its sweet notes to the skies; Accordant to the tuneful strain Swell'd the loud acclaiming voice, Now with Thyestes to rejoice: He, all on fire the glorious prize to gain, With secret love the wife of Atreus won, And thus the shining wonder made his own; Then to the assembly vaunting cried, "Mine is the rich Ram's golden pride."

_Strophe_ 2. Then, oh then, indignant Jove Bade the bright sun backward move, And the golden orb of day, And the morning's orient ray; Glaring o'er the Western sky Hurl'd his ruddy lightnings fly; Clouds, no more to fall in rain, Northward roll their deep'ning train; Libyan Ammon's thirsty seat, Wither'd with the scorching heat, Feels nor show'rs nor heavenly dews Grateful moisture round diffuse.

_Antis._ 2. Fame hath said (but light I hold What the voice of fame hath told) That the sun, retiring far, Backward roll'd his golden car; And his vital heat withdraw, Sick'ning man's bold crimes to view. Mortals, when such tales they hear, Tremble with an holy fear, And th' offended gods adore; She, this noble pair who bore, Dar'd to murder, deed abhorr'd! This forgot, her royal lord. {815}

EPISODE III

_As the Ode is concluding, shouts are heard from the direction of the field where the sacrifice is: Chorus summon Electra_.

After a brief conversation, a Messenger arrives breathless, and after rapidly giving the news that Aegisthus has fallen, is encouraged to tell the scene at length, which he does in the regular 'Messenger's Speech.'

_Mess._ Departing from this house, the level road {845} We enter'd soon, mark'd by the chariot wheel On either side. Mycenae's noble king Was there, amidst his gardens with fresh streams Irriguous walking, and the tender boughs Of myrtles, for a wreath to bind his head, He cropt; he saw us, he address'd us thus Aloud: "Hail, strangers; who are ye, and whence Come, from what country?" Then Orestes said, "Thessalians; victims to Olympian Jove We at the stream of Alpheus go to slay." The King replied, "Be now my guests, and share The feast with me; a bullock to the Nymphs I sacrifice; at morn's first dawn arise, Then shall you go; but enter now my house." Thus as he spoke, he took us by the hand And led us, nothing loth: beneath his roof Soon as we came, he bade his slaves prepare Baths for the strangers, that, the altars nigh, Beside the lustral ewers they might stand. Orestes then, "With lavers from the pure And living stream we lately have been cleansed: But with thy citizens these rites to share, If strangers are permitted, we, O King, Are ready to thy hospitable feast, Nothing averse." The converse here had end. Their spears, with which they guard the king, aside Th' attendants laid, and to their office all Applied their hands; some led the victim, some The baskets bore, some rais'd the flames and plac'd The cauldrons on the hearth; the house resounds. Thy mother's husband on the altars cast The salted cakes, and thus address'd his vows; "Ye Nymphs that haunt the rocks, these hallow'd rites Oft let me pay, and of my royal spouse Now absent, both by fortune blest as now; And let our foes as now, in ruin lie;" Thee and Orestes naming. But my lord, Far other vows address'd, but gave his words No utt'rance, to regain his father's house. Aegisthus then the sacrificing sword Took from the basket, from the bullock's front To cut the hair, which on the hallow'd fire With his right hand he threw; and, as his slaves The victim held, beneath its shoulder plung'd The blade; then turning to thy brother spoke: "Among her noble arts Thessalia boasts To rein the fiery courser, and with skill The victim's limbs to sever; stranger, take The sharp-edg'd steel and show that fame reports Of the Thessalians truth." The Doric blade Of temper'd metal in his hand he grasp'd, And from his shoulders threw his graceful robe; Then to assist him in the toilsome task Chose Pylades, and bade the slaves retire: The victim's foot he held, and its white flesh, His hand extending, bared, and stript the hide E'er round the course the chariot twice could roll, And laid the entrails open. In his hands The fate-presaging parts Aegisthus took, Inspecting: in the entrails was no lobe; The valves and cells the gall containing show Dreadful events to him, that view'd them, near. Gloomy his visage darken'd; but my lord Ask'd whence his sadden'd aspect: He replied-- "Stranger, some treachery from abroad I fear; Of mortal men Orestes most I hate, The son of Agamemnon; to my house He is a foe." "Wilt thou," replied my lord, "King of this state, an exile's treachery dread? But that, these omens leaving, we may feast, Give me a Phthian for this Doric blade, The breast asunder I will cleave." He took The steel and cut. Aegisthus, yet intent, Parted the entrails; and, as low he bow'd His head, thy brother, rising to the stroke, Drove through his back the ponderous axe, and riv'd The spinal joints: his heaving body writh'd And quiver'd, struggling in the pangs of death. The slaves beheld, and instant snatched their spears, Many 'gainst two contesting; but my lord And Pylades with dauntless courage stood Oppos'd, and shook their spears. Orestes then Thus spoke: "I come not to this state a foe, Nor to my servants; but my father's death I on his murderer have aveng'd; you see Th' unfortunate Orestes: kill me not, My father's old attendants." At these words They all restrain'd their spears, and he was known By one grown hoary in the royal house. Crowns on thy brother's head they instant plac'd With shouts of joy. He comes, and with him brings Proof of his daring, not a Gorgon's head, But whom thou hat'st, Aegisthus: blood for blood, Bitter requital, on the dead has fall'n. {939}

General exultation (_in Lyric measures_) succeeds, which increases as _Orestes_ and _Pylades re-enter bearing the corpse of Aegisthus_. After brief celebration of the deed the face of the corpse is uncovered, and Electra, gazing at it, gives vent to her scorn and hatred: how he had slain a hero, made her an orphan, lived in shame with her mother, enjoying and trusting in her father's wealth: but

Nature is firm, not riches: she remains For ever, and triumphant lifts her head. But unjust wealth, which sojourns with the base, Glitters for some short space, then flies away.

His effeminate manners are more than maiden tongue may speak of; beauty graced his perfect form:

But be not mine a husband, whose fair face In softness with a virgin's vies, but one Of manly manners; for the sons of such By martial toils are trained to glorious deeds; The beauteous only the dance give grace.

Let the wicked in future learn they are not secure till the goal of life is reached. {1092}

Clytaemnestra is then seen approaching: they hurry Orestes in; his heart fails him at the thought of his mother; with difficulty Electra rouses him to his appointed vengeance. [_Exeunt all but Electra into the Cottage. Enter Clytaemnestra in a Chariot and splendid array._] _The Chorus_ welcome her, and she begs their aid to alight.--_Electra_ thrusts herself forward clad in rags as she is, and begs that she too may assist.--_Clyt._ feels the impropriety of the scene, and falls into an apologetic tone; it was Electra's father who, by his injustice to Iphigenia, was the real cause of Electra's trouble. This leads to the usual judicial disputation: _Clyt._ pleading that this sacrifice of her daughter was done not for a good cause, but for the wanton Helen; this sacrifice she had avenged, and to avenge it must join an enemy, not a friend, of Agamemnon.--_Electra_, getting permission, replies: Helen was not the only wanton one of her family; if no motive but vengeance, why begin to adorn as soon as Agamemnon was out of the way, why rejoice whenever the Trojans prospered, why go on to persecute Orestes and herself, nay, why not slay Aegisthus for persecuting these her children? The sight of Electra's miserable condition makes even _Clyt._ feel compunction: she has been too harsh, she will be kinder now, and so shall Aegisthus--Electra replying to all that it is too late. At last _Clyt._ prepares to go within the house and perform the rite for Electra; then she will join her husband. _Exeunt Attendants with Chariot, and Electra ushers Clytaemnestra into the Cottage_.

Let my poor house receive thee: but take heed Lest thy rich vests the blackening smoke denies.-- There shalt thou sacrifice, as to the gods Behoves thee sacrifice: the basket there Is for the rites prepared, and the keen blade Which struck the bull; beside him shalt thou fall By a like blow; in Pluto's courts his bride He shall receive, with whom in heav'n's fair light Thy couch was shared: to thee this grace I give, Thou vengeance for my father shalt give me. {1274}

CHORAL INTERLUDE III

The waves of mischief are flowing back, the gale of Violence is veering: Vengeance for the crime of old standing is come at last. {1298}

EXODUS, OR FINALE

Cries are heard from within: the Chorus know that the deed is done.

_By the machinery of the roller-stage the interior of the Cottage is displayed, with Orestes and Electra standing over the corpse of Clytaemnestra_.

A revulsion of feeling has come over them; they did the deed in frenzy; now, instead of triumph, they have no thoughts but for the act they have done, and how they will carry a curse with them ever after, and all will shun them. With horror they recall the details of the scene:

_Ores._ Didst thou see her when she drew {1338} Her vests aside, and bared her breasts, and bow'd To earth her body whence I drew my birth, Whilst in her locks my furious hand I wreath'd?

_Elec._ With anguish'd mind, I know, thou didst proceed, When heard thy wailing mother's piteous cries.

_Ores._ These words, whilst with her hands she strok'd my cheeks, Burst forth, "Thy pity I implore, my son;" Soothing she spoke, as on my cheeks she hung, That bloodless from my hand the sword might fall.

_Chor._ Wretched Electra, how could'st thou sustain A sight like this? How bear thy mother's death, Seeing her thus before thine eyes expire?

_Ores._ Holding my robe before mine eyes, I rais'd The sword and plung'd it in my mother's breast.

_Elec._ I urged thee to it, I too touch'd the sword.

_Chor._ Of deeds most dreadful this which thou hast done. Cover thy mother's body; in her robes Decent compose her wounded limbs.--Thou gav'st Being to those who were to murder thee.

DIVINE INTERVENTION

_Suddenly over the Permanent Scene two Supernatural Beings appear and move along, recognized by the Chorus as Castor and Pollux, the Family Deities_. {1364}

Hear, son of Agamemnon: for to thee Thy mother's brothers, twin-born sons of Jove Castor, and this my brother Pollux, speak. Late, having calmed the ocean waves, that swell'd The lab'ring vessel menacing, we came To Argos, where our sister we beheld, Thy mother, slain: with justice vengeance falls On her; in thee unholy is the deed. Yet Phoebus, Phoebus--but, my king is he; I will be silent: yet, though wise, he gave To thee response not wise; but I must praise Perforce these things. Thou now must do what Fate And Jove decree.

Electra is to marry Pylades, and Orestes to flee to Athens and be purified by the Court on the Hill of Mars: Apollo assisting. Orestes' future life is foretold [thus working out various details of the Orestes legends].--With awe Orestes, Electra, and Chorus enter into converse with the gods, and the word is confirmed. They failed to avert the trouble from their house on account of dire Fate and 'the voice unwise of Phoebus from his shrine.' There has been a Demon hostile to Electra's parents.--Then the brother and sister's thoughts turn to the life-long separation, and the painful wandering, sorrows e'en to the gods mournful to hear. Farewell to Argos: the Gods hurry Orestes away for the Furies are already on his track, and conclude:

To the impious thro' the ethereal tract We no assistance bring: but those to whom Justice and sanctity of life is dear, We from their dangerous toils relieve and save. Let no one then unjustly will to act, Nor in one vessel with the perjured sail: A god to mortals this monition gives.

_Chor._ Oh, be you blest! And those, to whom is given Calmly the course of mortal life to pass, By no affliction sunk, pronounce we blest.

[1] The quotations of Euripides are from Potter's translation.

THE ALCESTIS OF EURIPIDES[1]

MEMORANDUM

_Of the Story as it would be traditionally familiar to the Audience before-hand.--Admetus was the splendid King of Pherae, so famous for the sacred rites of Hospitality that he had Sons of the Gods for Guests, and the God of Brightness, Apollo, himself while he sojourned on earth chose Admetus's household to dwell in. In the full tide of his greatness the time came for him to die: Apollo interposed for his chief votary, and won from the Fates that he might die by substitute. But none was found willing to be the victim, not even his aged parents: at last Alcestis his wife, young and bright as himself, gave herself for her husband and died. Then another Guest-Friend of Admetus came to the rescue, Jupiter's own son Hercules, and by main force wrested Alcestis from the grasp of Death, and restored her to her husband._

PROLOGUE

_Scene: Pherae in Thessaly. The early morning sunshine blazes full on the Royal Palace of the Glorious Admetus, and on the statues, conspicuous in front of it, of Jupiter Lord of Host and Guest, and Apollo: nevertheless the Courtyard is silent and deserted.--At last Apollo himself is seen, not aloft in the air as Gods were wont to appear, but on the threshold of the Central Gate._

APOLLO meditates on his happy associations with the house he is quitting. How when there was trouble in heaven, and he himself, for resisting Jove's vengeance on the Healer Aesculapius, was doomed to a year's slavery amongst mortal men, he had bound himself as herdsman to Admetus, and Admetus exercised his lordship with all reverence:

A holy master o'er his holy slave. {13}

How again when trouble came to Admetus he had saved him from the day of death, on condition that another would die in his stead.

His friends, his father, e'en the aged dame {19} That gave him birth were asked in vain: not one Was found, his wife except.

The dreadful day has come, and Alcestis is at this moment breathing her last in the arms of her husband: and he himself must leave his loved friend, for Deity may not abide in the neighborhood of death's pollution. {27}

_Suddenly, the hideous Phantom of Death becomes visible, ascending the Steps of the Dead [from below the Orchestra on to the Stage]: his pace never flags, yet he cowers, like all things of darkness, before the Bow of Apollo._

_Death_ reproaches Apollo with haunting the dwellings of mortals, and with seeking by that Bow of his to defraud the Infernal Powers of their due. _Apollo_ defends himself: he is but visiting friends he loves: he has no thought of using force. But would he could persuade Death to choose his victims according to the law of nature, and slay ripe lingering age instead of youth!

_Death._ Greater my glory when the youthful die! {58}

_Apollo_ appeals to self-interest: more sumptuous obsequies await the aged dead.--That, answers _Death_, were to make laws in favor of the rich.--_Apollo_ condescends to ask mercy for his friend as a favor; but favors, _Death_ sneers, are not in keeping with his manners; and taunts Apollo with his helplessness to resist fate. The taunt rouses Apollo to a flash of prophecy (which is one of his attributes), giving (as the Greek stage loved to do) a glimpse into the end of the story.

_Apollo._ Yet, ruthless as thou art, soon wilt thou cease {67} This contest; such a man to Pherae's house Comes. . . . . He, in this house A welcome guest to Admetus, will by force Take his wife from thee; and no thanks from me Will be thy due; yet what I now entreat Then thou wilt yield, and I shall hate thee still.

Apollo moves away and disappears in the distance [_by Left Side-door_], while Death, hurling defiance after him, waves his fatal sword and crosses the threshold. {81}

PARODE, OR CHORUS-ENTRY

_Enter the Orchestra [by the Right Archway, as from the neighborhood] the Chorus: Old Men of Pherae, come to enquire how it is with the Queen on the morning of this appointed day of her death. As usual in such Chorus-Entries their chanting is accompanied with music and gesture-dance to a rhythm traditionally associated with marching. But by a very unusual effect they enter in disordered ranks, moving in two loosely-formed bodies towards the Central Altar._ {82}