Chapter 4

O Fate shall turn as the tide, Turn, with a doom of tears For the flying heart too fond; A doom for the broken bond. She hailed him there in his pride, Home from the perilous years,

In the heart of his wallèd lands, In the Giants' cloud-capt ring; Herself, none other, laid The hone to the axe's blade; She lifted it in her hands, The woman, and slew her king.

Woe upon spouse and spouse, Whatso of evil sway Held her in that distress! Even as a lioness Breaketh the woodland boughs Starving, she wrought her way.

VOICE OF CLYTEMNESTRA.

O Children, Children; in the name of God, Slay not your mother!

A WOMAN.

Did ye hear a cry Under the rafters?

ANOTHER.

I weep too, yea, I; Down on the mother's heart the child hath trod! [_A death-cry from within_.

ANOTHER.

God bringeth Justice in his own slow tide. Aye, cruel is thy doom; but thy deeds done Evil, thou piteous woman, and on one Whose sleep was by thy side!

[_The door bursts open, and_ ORESTES _and_ ELECTRA _come forth in disorder. Attendants bring out the bodies of_ CLYTEMNESTRA _and_ AEGISTHUS.

LEADER.

Lo, yonder, in their mother's new-spilt gore Red-garmented and ghastly, from the door They reel.... O horrible! Was it agony Like this, she boded in her last wild cry? There lives no seed of man calamitous, Nor hath lived, like this seed of Tantalus.

ORESTES.

O Dark of the Earth, O God, Thou to whom all is plain; Look on my sin, my blood, This horror of dead things twain; Gathered as one they lie Slain; and the slayer was I, I, to pay for my pain!

ELECTRA.

Let tear rain upon tear, Brother: but mine is the blame. A fire stood over her, And out of the fire I came, I, in my misery.... And I was the child at her knee. 'Mother' I named her name.

CHORUS.

Alas for Fate, for the Fate of thee, O Mother, Mother of Misery: And Misery, lo, hath turned again, To slay thee, Misery and more, Even in the fruit thy body bore. Yet hast thou Justice, Justice plain, For a sire's blood spilt of yore!

ORESTES.

Apollo, alas for the hymn Thou sangest, as hope in mine ear! The Song was of Justice dim, But the Deed is anguish clear; And the Gift, long nights of fear, Of blood and of wandering, Where cometh no Greek thing, Nor sight, nor sound on the air. Yea, and beyond, beyond, Roaming--what rest is there? Who shall break bread with me? Who, that is clean, shall see And hate not the blood-red hand, His mother's murderer?

ELECTRA.

And I? What clime shall hold My evil, or roof it above? I cried for dancing of old, I cried in my heart for love: What dancing waiteth me now? What love that shall kiss my brow Nor blench at the brand thereof?

CHORUS.

Back, back, in the wind and rain Thy driven spirit wheeleth again. Now is thine heart made clean within That was dark of old and murder-fraught. But, lo, thy brother; what hast thou wrought.... Yea, though I love thee.... what woe, what sin, On him, who willed it not!

ORESTES.

Saw'st thou her raiment there, Sister, there in the blood? She drew it back as she stood, She opened her bosom bare, She bent her knees to the earth, The knees that bent in my birth.... And I ... Oh, her hair, her hair.... [_He breaks into inarticulate weeping_

CHORUS.

Oh, thou didst walk in agony, Hearing thy mother's cry, the cry Of wordless wailing, well know I.

ELECTRA.

She stretched her hand to my cheek, And there brake from her lips a moan; 'Mercy, my child, my own!' Her hand clung to my cheek; Clung, and my arm was weak; And the sword fell and was gone.

CHORUS.

Unhappy woman, could thine eye Look on the blood, and see her lie, Thy mother, where she turned to die?

ORESTES.

I lifted over mine eyes My mantle: blinded I smote, As one smiteth a sacrifice; And the sword found her throat.

ELECTRA.

I gave thee the sign and the word; I touched with mine hand thy sword.

LEADER.

Dire is the grief ye have wrought.

ORESTES.

Sister, touch her again: Oh, veil the body of her; Shed on her raiment fair, And close that death-red stain. --Mother! And didst thou bear, Bear in thy bitter pain, To life, thy murderer?

[_The two kneel over the body of_ CLYTEMNESTRA, _and cover her with raiment_.

ELECTRA.

On her that I loved of yore, Robe upon robe I cast: On her that I hated sore.

CHORUS.

O House that hath hated sore, Behold thy peace at the last!

* * * * *

LEADER.

Ha, see: above the roof-tree high There shineth ... Is some spirit there Of earth or heaven? That thin air Was never trod by things that die! What bodes it now that forth they fare, To men revealèd visibly?

[_There appears in the air a vision of_ CASTOR _and_ POLYDEUCES. _The mortals kneel or veil their faces._

CASTOR.

Thou Agamemnon's Son, give ear! 'Tis we. Castor and Polydeuces, call to thee, God's Horsemen and thy mother's brethren twain. An Argive ship, spent with the toiling main, We bore but now to peace, and, here withal Being come, have seen thy mother's bloody fall, Our sister's. Righteous is her doom this day, But not thy deed. And Phoebus, Phoebus ... Nay; He is my lord; therefore I hold my peace. Yet though in light he dwell, no light was this He showed to thee, but darkness! Which do thou Endure, as man must, chafing not. And now Fare forth where Zeus and Fate have laid thy life. The maid Electra thou shalt give for wife To Pylades; then turn thy head and flee From Argos' land. 'Tis never more for thee To tread this earth where thy dead mother lies. And, lo, in the air her Spirits, bloodhound eyes, Most horrible yet Godlike, hard at heel Following shall scourge thee as a burning wheel, Speed-maddened. Seek thou straight Athena's land, And round her awful image clasp thine hand, Praying: and she will fence them back, though hot With flickering serpents, that they touch thee not, Holding above thy brow her gorgon shield. There is a hill in Athens, Ares' field, Where first for that first death by Ares done On Halirrhothius, Poseidon's son, Who wronged his daughter, the great Gods of yore Held judgment: and true judgments evermore Flow from that Hill, trusted of man and God. There shalt thou stand arraignèd of this blood; And of those judges half shall lay on thee Death, and half pardon; so shalt thou go free. For Phoebus in that hour, who bade thee shed Thy mother's blood, shall take on his own head The stain thereof. And ever from that strife The law shall hold, that when, for death or life Of one pursued, men's voices equal stand, Then Mercy conquereth.--But for thee, the band Of Spirits dread, down, down, in very wrath, Shall sink beside that Hill, making their path Through a dim chasm, the which shall aye be trod By reverent feet, where men may speak with God. But thou forgotten and far off shalt dwell, By great Alpheüs' waters, in a dell Of Arcady, where that gray Wolf-God's wall Stands holy. And thy dwelling men shall call Orestes Town. So much to thee be spoke. But this dead man, Aegisthus, all the folk Shall bear to burial in a high green grave Of Argos. For thy mother, she shall have Her tomb from Menelaus, who hath come This day, at last, to Argos, bearing home Helen. From Egypt comes she, and the hall Of Proteus, and in Troy hath ne'er at all Set foot. 'Twas but a wraith of Helen, sent By Zeus, to make much wrath and ravishment. So forth for home, bearing the virgin bride, Let Pylades make speed, and lead beside Thy once-named brother, and with golden store Stablish his house far off on Phocis' shore. Up, gird thee now to the steep Isthmian way, Seeking Athena's blessèd rock; one day, Thy doom of blood fulfilled and this long stress Of penance past, thou shalt have happiness.

LEADER (_looking up_).

Is it for us, O Seed of Zeus, To speak and hear your words again! CASTOR. Speak: of this blood ye bear no stain. ELECTRA. I also, sons of Tyndareus,

My kinsmen; may my word be said? CASTOR. Speak: on Apollo's head we lay The bloody doings of this day. LEADER. Ye Gods, ye brethren of the dead,

Why held ye not the deathly herd Of Kêres back from off this home? CASTOR. There came but that which needs must come By ancient Fate and that dark word

That rang from Phoebus in his mood. ELECTRA. And what should Phoebus seek with me, Or all God's oracles that be, That I must bear my mother's blood?

CASTOR. Thy hand was as thy brother's hand, Thy doom shall be as his. One stain, From dim forefathers on the twain Lighting, hath sapped your hearts as sand.

ORESTES (_who has never raised his head, nor spoken to the Gods_).

After so long, sister, to see And hold thee, and then part, then part, By all that chained thee to my heart Forsaken, and forsaking thee!

CASTOR. Husband and house are hers. She bears No bitter judgment, save to go Exiled from Argos. ELECTRA. And what woe, What tears are like an exile's tears?

ORESTES. Exiled and more am I; impure, A murderer in a stranger's hand: CASTOR. Fear not. There dwells in Pallas' land All holiness. Till then endure! [ORESTES _and_ ELECTRA _embrace_

ORESTES. Aye, closer; clasp my body well, And let thy sorrow loose, and shed, As o'er the grave of one new dead, Dead evermore, thy last farewell! [_A sound of weeping_.

CASTOR. Alas, what would ye? For that cry Ourselves and all the sons of heaven Have pity. Yea, our peace is riven By the strange pain of these that die.

ORESTES. No more to see thee! ELECTRA. Nor thy breath Be near my face! ORESTES. Ah, so it ends. ELECTRA. Farewell, dear Argos. All ye friends, Farewell! ORESTES. O faithful unto death,

Thou goest? ELECTRA. Aye, I pass from you, Soft-eyed at last. ORESTES. Go, Pylades, And God go with you! Wed in peace My tall Electra, and be true. [ELECTRA _and_ PYLADES _depart to the left._

CASTOR.

Their troth shall fill their hearts.--But on: Dread feet are near thee, hounds of prey, Snake-handed, midnight-visaged, yea, And bitter pains their fruit! Begone! [ORESTES _departs to the right_.

But hark, the far Sicilian sea Calls, and a noise of men and ships That labour sunken to the lips In bitter billows; forth go we,

Through the long leagues of fiery blue, With saving; not to souls unshriven; But whoso in his life hath striven To love things holy and be true,

Through toil and storm we guard him; we Save, and he shall not die!--Therefore, O praise the lying man no more, Nor with oath-breakers sail the sea: Farewell, ye walkers on the shore Of death! A God hath counselled ye. [CASTOR _and_ POLYDEUCES _disappear_.

CHORUS.

Farewell, farewell!--But he who can so fare, And stumbleth not on mischief anywhere, Blessed on earth is he!

NOTES TO THE ELECTRA

The chief characters in the play belong to one family, as is shown by the two genealogies:--

I.

TANTALUS | Pelops __________|__________________ | | Atreus Thyestes _________|__________ | | | | Agamemnon Menelaus Aegisthus (=Clytemnestra) (=Helen) (=Clytemnestra) _____|________________________ | | | Iphigenia Electra Orestes

(Also, a sister of Agamemnon, name variously given, married Strophios, and was the mother of Pylades.)

II.

Tyndareus = Leda = Zeus ____________________| ____|_________________________ | | | | Clytemnestra Castor Polydeuces Helen

P. 1, l. 10, Son of his father's foe.]--Both foe and brother. Atreus and Thyestes became enemies after the theft of the Golden Lamb. See pp. 47 ff.

P. 2, l. 34, Must wed with me.]--In Aeschylus and Sophocles Electra is unmarried. This story of her peasant husband is found only in Euripides, but is not likely to have been wantonly invented by him. It was no doubt an existing legend--an [Greek: ôn logos], to use the phrase attributed to Euripides in the _Frogs_ (l. 1052). He may have chosen to adopt it for several reasons. First, to marry Electra to a peasant was a likely step for Aegisthus to take, since any child born to her afterwards would bear a stigma, calculated to damage him fatally as a pretender to the throne. Again, it seemed to explain the name "A-lektra" (as if from [Greek: lektron] "bed;" cf. Schol. _Orestes_, 71, Soph. _El_. 962, _Ant_. 917) more pointedly than the commoner version. And it helps in the working out of Electra's character (cf. pp. 17, 22, &c.). Also it gives an opportunity of introducing the fine character of the peasant. He is an [Greek: Autourgos] literally "self-worker," a man who works his own land, far from the city, neither a slave nor a slave-master; "the men," as Euripides says in the _Orestes_ (920), "who alone save a nation." (Cf, _Bac_., p. 115 foot, and below, p. 26, ll. 367-390.) As Euripides became more and more alienated from the town democracy he tended, like Tolstoy and others, to idealise the workers of the soil.

P. 6, l. 62, Children to our enemy.]--Cf. 626. Soph. _El_. 589. They do not seem to be in existence at the time of the play.

Pp. 5-6.]--Electra's first two speeches are admirable as expositions of her character--the morbid nursing of hatred as a duty, the deliberate posing, the impulsiveness, the quick response to kindness.

P. 7, l. 82, Pylades.]--Pylades is a _persona muta_ both here and in Sophocles' _Electra_, a fixed traditional figure, possessing no quality but devotion to Orestes. In Aeschylus' _Libation-Bearers_ he speaks only once, with tremendous effect, at the crisis of the play, to rebuke Orestes when his heart fails him. In the _Iphigenia in Tauris_, however, and still more in the _Orestes_, he is a fully studied character.

P. 10, l. 151, A swan crying alone.]--Cf. _Bacchae_, p. 152, "As yearns the milk-white swan when old swans die."

P. 11, ll. 169 ff., The Watcher hath cried this day.]--Hera was an old Pelasgian goddess, whose worship was kept in part a mystery from the invading Achaeans or Dorians. There seems to have been a priest born "of the ancient folk," _i.e._, a Pelasgian or aboriginal Mycenaean, who, by some secret lore--probably some ancient and superseded method of calculating the year--knew when Hera's festival was due, and walked round the country three days beforehand to announce it. He drank "the milk of the flock" and avoided wine, either from some religious taboo, or because he represented the religion of the milk-drinking mountain shepherds.

P. 13, ll. 220 ff.]--Observe Electra's cowardice when surprised; contrast her courage, p. 47, when sending Orestes off, and again her quick drop to despair when the news does not come soon enough.

P. 16, ll. 247 ff., I am a wife.... O better dead!]--Rather ungenerous, when compared with her words on p. 6. (Cf. also her words on pp. 24 and 26.) But she feels this herself, almost immediately. Orestes naturally takes her to mean that her husband is one of Aegisthus' friends. This would have ruined his plot. (Cf. above, p. 8, l. 98.)

P. 22, l. 312, Castor.]--I know no other mention of Electra's betrothal to Castor. He was her kinsman: see below on l. 990.

Pp. 22-23, ll. 300-337.]--In this wonderful outbreak, observe the mixture of all sorts of personal resentments and jealousies with the devotion of the lonely woman to her father and her brother. "So men say," is an interesting touch; perhaps conscience tells her midway that she does not quite believe what she is saying. So is the self-conscious recognition of her "bitter burning brain" that interprets all things in a sort of distortion.--Observe, too, how instinctively she turns to the peasant for sympathy in the strain of her emotion. It is his entrance, perhaps, which prevents Orestes from being swept away and revealing himself. The peasant's courage towards two armed men is striking, as well as his courtesy and his sanity. He is the one character in the play not somehow tainted with blood-madness.

P. 27, ll. 403, 409.]--Why does Electra send her husband to the Old Man? Not, I think, really for want of the food. It would have been easier to borrow (p. 12, l. 191) from the Chorus; and, besides, what the peasant says is no doubt true, that, if she liked, she could find "many a pleasant thing" in the house. I think she sends for the Old Man because he is the only person who would know Orestes (p. 21, l. 285). She is already, like the Leader (p. 26, l. 401), excited by hopes which she will not confess. This reading makes the next scene clearer also.

Pp. 28-30, ll. 432-487, O for the Ships of Troy.]--The two main Choric songs of this play are markedly what Aristotle calls [Greek: embolima] "things thrown in." They have no effect upon the action, and form little more than musical "relief." Not that they are positively irrelevant. Agamemnon is in our minds all through the play, and Agamemnon's glory is of course enhanced by the mention of Troy and the praises of his subordinate king, Achilles.

Thetis, the Nereid, or sea-maiden, was won to wife by Peleus. (He wrestled with her on the seashore, and never loosed hold, though she turned into divers strange beings--a lion, and fire, and water, and sea-beasts.) She bore him Achilles, and then, unable permanently to live with a mortal, went back beneath the sea. When Achilles was about to sail to Troy, she and her sister Nereids brought him divine armour, and guided his ships across the Aegean. The designs on Achilles' armour, as on Heracles' shield, form a fairly common topic of poetry.

The descriptions of the designs are mostly clear. Perseus with the Gorgon's head, guided by Hermês; the Sun on a winged chariot, and stars about him; two Sphinxes, holding as victims the men who had failed to answer the riddles which they sang; and, on the breastplate, the Chimaera attacking Bellerophon's winged horse, Pêgasus. The name Pêgasus suggested to a Greek [Greek: pegê], "fountain;" and the great spring of Pirênê, near Corinth, was made by Pêgasus stamping on the rock.

Pp. 30-47.]--The Old Man, like other old family servants in Euripides--the extreme case is in the _Ion_--is absolutely and even morbidly devoted to his masters. Delightful in this first scene, he becomes a little horrible in the next, where they plot the murders; not only ferocious himself, but, what seems worse, inclined to pet and enjoy the bloodthirstiness of his "little mistress."

Pp. 30-33, ll. 510-545.]--The Signs of Orestes. This scene, I think, has been greatly misunderstood by critics. In Aeschylus' _Libation-Bearers_, which deals with the same subject as the _Electra_, the scene is at Agamemnon's tomb. Orestes lays his tress there in the prologue. Electra comes bringing libations, sees the hair, compares it with her own, finds that it is similar "wing for wing" ([Greek: homopteros]--the same word as here), and guesses that it belongs to Orestes. She then measures the footprints, and finds one that is like her own, one not; evidently Orestes and a fellow-traveller! Orestes enters and announces himself; she refuses to believe, until he shows her a "woven thing," perhaps the robe which he is wearing, which she recognises as the work of her own hand.

The same signs, described in one case by the same peculiar word, occur here. The Old Man mentions one after the other, and Electra refutes or rejects them. It has been thought therefore that this scene was meant as an attack--a very weak and undignified attack--on Euripides' great master. No parallel for such an artistically ruinous proceeding is quoted from any Greek tragedy. And, apart from the improbability _a priori_, I do not think it even possible to read the scene in this sense. To my mind, Electra here rejects the signs not from reason, but from a sort of nervous terror. She dares not believe that Orestes has come; because, if it prove otherwise, the disappointment will be so terrible. As to both signs, the lock of hair and the footprints, her arguments may be good; but observe that she is afraid to make the comparison at all. And as to the footprint, she says there cannot be one, when the Old Man has just seen it! And, anyhow, she will not go to see it! Similarly as to the robe, she does her best to deny that she ever wove it, though she and the Old Man both remember it perfectly. She is fighting tremulously, with all her flagging strength, against the thing she longs for. The whole point of the scene requires that one ray of hope after another should be shown to Electra, and that she should passionately, blindly, reject them all. That is what Euripides wanted the signs for.

But why, it may be asked, did he adopt Aeschylus' signs, and even his peculiar word? Because, whether invented by Aeschylus or not, these signs were a canonical part of the story by the time Euripides wrote. Every one who knew the story of Orestes' return at all, knew of the hair and the footprint. Aristophanes in the _Clouds_ (534 ff.) uses them proverbially, when he speaks of his comedy "recognising its brother's tress." It would have been frivolous to invent new ones. As a matter of fact, it seems probable that the signs are older than Aeschylus; neither they nor the word [Greek: homopteros] particularly suit Aeschylus' purpose. (Cf. Dr. Verrall's introduction to the _Libation-Bearers_.) They probably come from the old lyric poet, Stesichorus.

P. 43, l. 652, New-mothered of a Man-Child.]--Her true Man-Child, the Avenger whom they had sought to rob her of! This pitiless plan was suggested apparently by the sacrifice to the Nymphs (p. 40). "Weep my babe's low station" is of course ironical. The babe would set a seal on Electra's degradation to the peasant class, and so end the blood-feud, as far as she was concerned. Clytemnestra, longing for peace, must rejoice in Electra's degradation. Yet she has motherly feelings too, and in fact hardly knows what to think or do till she can consult Aegisthus (p. 71). Electra, it would seem, actually calculates upon these feelings, while despising them.

P. 45, l. 669, If but some man will guide me.]--A suggestion of the irresolution or melancholia that beset Orestes afterwards, alternating with furious action. (Cf. Aeschylus' _Libation-Bearers_, Euripides' _Andromache_ and _Orestes_.)

P. 45, l. 671, Zeus of my sires, &c]--In this invocation, short and comparatively unmoving, one can see perhaps an effect of Aeschylus' play. In the _Libation-Bearers_ the invocation of Agamemnon comprises 200 lines of extraordinarily eloquent poetry.

P. 47 ff., ll. 699 ff.]--The Golden Lamb. The theft of the Golden Lamb is treated as a story of the First Sin, after which all the world was changed and became the poor place that it now is. It was at least the First Sin in the blood-feud of this drama.

The story is not explicitly told. Apparently the magic lamb was brought by Pan from the gods, and given to Atreus as a special grace and a sign that he was the true king. His younger brother, Thyestes, helped by Atreus' wife, stole it and claimed to be king himself. So good was turned into evil, and love into hatred, and the stars shaken in their courses.