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<body><main>
<section id="titlepage" epub:type="titlepage frontmatter">
<h1 epub:type="title">The Libation Bearers</h1>
<p>By <b epub:type="z3998:author z3998:personal-name">Aeschylus</b>.</p>
<p>Translated by <b epub:type="z3998:translator z3998:personal-name">Gilbert Murray</b>.</p>
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epub:type="se:image.color-depth.black-on-transparent"/>
</section>
<nav id="toc" epub:type="toc">
<h2 epub:type="title">Table of Contents</h2>
<ol>
<li>
<a href="#titlepage">Titlepage</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#imprint">Imprint</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#preface">Preface</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#dramatis-personae">Dramatis Personae</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#halftitlepage">Half-Titlepage</a>
<ol>
<li>
<a href="#the-libation-bearers">The Libation Bearers</a>
</li>
</ol>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#endnotes">Endnotes</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#colophon">Colophon</a>
</li>
<li>
<a href="#uncopyright">Uncopyright</a>
</li>
</ol>
</nav>
<section id="imprint" epub:type="imprint frontmatter">
<header>
<h2 epub:type="title">Imprint</h2>
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epub:type="z3998:publisher-logo se:image.color-depth.black-on-transparent"/>
</header>
<p>This ebook is the product of many hours of hard work by volunteers for <a href="https://standardebooks.org/">Standard Ebooks</a>, and builds on the hard work of other literature lovers made possible by the public domain.</p>
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</section>
<section id="preface" epub:type="preface frontmatter z3998:non-fiction">
<h2 epub:type="title">Preface</h2>
<p>The <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Choëphoroe</i>, or <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Libation-Bearers</i>, is the second play in the only trilogy preserved to us from the Athenian stage: <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Agamemnon</i>, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Choëphoroe</i>, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Eumenides</i>. The first gives the murder of Agamemnon by his wife Clytemnestra and her lover Aigisthos; the second the vengeance of Orestes, helped by his sister Electra; the third deals with the ultimate solution of the problem of Sin and Punishment, the purification of Orestes from the murder of his mother and the conversion of the spirits of Punishment from Furies to Beneficent Beings, from “Erinyes” to “Eumenides.”</p>
<p>The vengeance of Orestes was made the subject of plays by all three tragedians. All the plays are in their ways masterpieces, and each highly characteristic of its writer. Euripides realizes and psychologizes the horror of the story; Sophocles, apparently from a deliberate adoption of the “Homeric” tone, suppresses the religious problem and concentrates on the elements of direct passion. Aeschylus, as I have said elsewhere, “though steeped in the glory of the world of legend, would not lightly accept its judgment upon religious and moral questions, and above all would not, in that region, play at make-believe. He would not elude the horror of this story by simply not mentioning it, like Homer, or by pretending that an evil act was a good one, like Sophocles. He faces the horror; realizes it; and tries to surmount it on the sweep of a great wave of religious emotion. The mother-murder, even if done by a gods command, is a sin; a sin to be expiated by unfathomable suffering. Yet, since the god cannot have commanded evil, it is a duty also. It is a sin that must be committed.” The crucial difference is that the Choëphoroe is not self-contained, while the other plays are. They are concerned with a particular story; it is part of a trilogy dealing with the great problem which lies at the centre of Greek religion—Hubris, Dike, Soteria or Crime, Punishment and Deliverance. (I may refer the reader to my introductions to the Agamemnon and to Euripides Electra.)</p>
<p>Thus, though to the Greek student this is perhaps, of all extant tragedies, the most obscure in detail of language, to the English reader it is not hard to understand. The atmosphere indeed is very ancient: it demands imaginative effort: but the sympathy goes as we would wish it to go and the story tells itself. Only two points call for special comment.</p>
<p>The first is the name of the play.<a href="#note-1" id="noteref-1" epub:type="noteref">1</a> The other two plays are called <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Electra</i>, after the chief character: this is called <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Choëpheroe</i>, or <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Libation-Bearers</i>, after the Chorus. For in truth the subjects are not, artistically speaking, quite the same. The main interest of the other plays is to describe how the woman Electra felt and acted with regard to the murder of her mother and stepfather; in this play it is to narrate how Agamemnon, the long dead, was awakened to help his children to avenge him. The ghosts in Homer could not speak till they had drunk the blood of sacrifice. Somewhat in the same way the dead Agamemnon here cannot gather his dim senses till the drink-offerings have sunk into his grave. The wine and milk and honey reach his parched lips. He stirs in his sleep, and in that one moment of hesitating consciousness there are crowded upon him all those appeals that have most power to rouse and sting. The first words spoken in prayer at his neglected tomb; the call for vengeance sent, as it were, unknowingly by the murderess; the repeated story of his old wrongs and the outrage done upon his body; above all, the voices of his desolate children crying to him for that which he himself craves. There is no visible apparition from the tomb, as there is, for instance, in the <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Persae</i>. But as the great litany grows in intensity of longing, the dead seem to draw nearer to the living, and conviction comes to the mourners, one after another, that he who was once King of Kings is in power among them. Where in all literature, except Aeschylus, could one find this union of primitive ghostliness with high intellectual passion? One hand seems to reach out to the African or Polynesian, while the other clasps that of Milton or Goethe.</p>
<p>Another point which the hasty reader might overlook is the psychological treatment of Orestes. At the end of the play, of course, he goes mad. That is in the legend. But from quite the early scenes—much of the prologue happens to be lost—the shadow of the coming darkness begins to show itself. And the occasion for it is always the same, the conflict between two horrors which are also duties: the murder of his mother on one side, and on the other disobedience to the command of God.</p>
<p>Here, as in most cases, the development of Greek tragedy moves almost straight from Aeschylus to Euripides, with Sophocles standing aside. The character of Orestes, in particular, contains here in germ just the ideas that are so subtly developed in Euripides. The first study is grander, tenderer, and more heroic; the second, of course, more detailed and varied and more finely poignant. There is a typical difference between the two poets in the way in which Orestes last scruples are overcome. In Euripides a whole scene is given up to it. Orestes is shaken by the first sight of his mother in the distance, and actually rebels against the god or devil who has commanded him to kill her, till he is overborne by the scorn and passion of Electras more bitter nature. In Aeschylus Orestes scruple breaks out in the midst of the Invocation and is swept away, not specially by Electra, but by the whole great swelling rhythm of that litany of revenge.</p>
<p>Of the other characters, Electra in Euripides bears the main weight of the tragedy on her own shoulders. In Aeschylus she is much less minutely and without doubt less cruelly studied: almost all her words are beautiful, and she keeps a kind of tenderness even in her prayers of hate. She hates her oppressors and her fathers enemies; but the hate is based on love, and it has not eaten into her nor left her poisoned. Clytemnestra, though she appears only for two short scenes, preserves still the almost superhuman grandeur which was hers in the <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Agamemnon</i>. Her simplest word has power to arrest the attention; and while she is present other people seem small and their emotions ordinary. Her own emotions lie deep and complex, fold behind fold. It is shallow to dismiss her as a hypocrite, feigning grief at the death of the son whom she fears. The hypocrisy is there, but so is the sorrow; so are all kinds of unspoken memories and hopes and depths of experience. Always the thing she says, fine as it is, leaves the impression that there is something greater that she does not care to say. Even when she calls for the axe of battle to face her son, she has room for a thought beyond the immediate fight for dear life: “To that meseemeth we are come, we two!” That touch is like Euripides, but on the whole this heroine was a figure not in Euripides style and perhaps not within his range. He made a Clytemnestra deliberately and utterly different.</p>
<p>The date of Sophocles play is unknown. But the <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Choëphoroe</i> was produced in 458 <abbr epub:type="se:era z3998:initialism">BC</abbr>, and Euripides <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Electra</i> in 413. The forty-five years that separate them were years of very rapid artistic development. The <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Choëphoroe</i> has both an archaic beauty and a stark grimness of speech which divide it from its two companions. There are fewer details, and attention is never long distracted from the central horror. At point after point of the action it is easy to show how the two later poets refined and developed the plain lines of Aeschylus, and exerted themselves to make the story more human and more probable. The comparison tempts one to reflect how little such technical improvements really matter, and how dangerously near to nothingness, in the last resort, are the ingenuities of realism. This play produces its illusion quite sufficiently by its mere grandeur and intensity. Yet, judged on its own archaic level, it shows remarkable skill in construction, just as, amid its story of relentless revenge, it conveys a great sense of compassion. The prologue itself is very skilful. With the last lines of the <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Agamemnon</i> still ringing in our minds we see, as the play opens, a young man standing with shorn hair beside a grave mound; and half the story is told in a flash. Nor, apart from the marvellous invocation scene itself, would it be easy to find in Greek drama another play with such varied moments as the prayer of Electra, the entry of the poor, loving, half-ridiculous Nurse, the sudden onrush of the single terrified slave calling for help to the Womens House; above all, the amazing scene at the end with the bloodstained robe, the gathering of the unseen Furies, the last struggle of Orestes reason, and the flight of the would-be Saviour as one Accursed, never to rest again. The final words of the Chorus ask the question which is to be answered, or at least attempted, in the <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Eumenides</i>.</p>
<footer>
<p epub:type="z3998:signature">
<abbr epub:type="z3998:personal-name">G. M.</abbr>
</p>
</footer>
</section>
<section id="dramatis-personae" epub:type="z3998:dramatis-personae frontmatter z3998:fiction z3998:drama">
<h2 epub:type="title">Dramatis Personae</h2>
<ul>
<li>
<p>Orestes, son of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra</p>
</li>
<li>
<p>Electra, daughter of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra</p>
</li>
<li>
<p>Clytemnestra, formerly wife to Agamemnon, now wedded to Aigisthos</p>
</li>
<li>
<p>Aigisthos, son of Thyestes, blood-foe to Agamemnon, and now Tyrant of Argos</p>
</li>
<li>
<p>Pylades, son of Strophios, King of Phôkis, friend to Orestes</p>
</li>
<li>
<p>The Old Nurse of Orestes</p>
</li>
<li>
<p>A Slave of Aigisthos</p>
</li>
<li>
<p>Chorus of Bondmaids in the House of Clytemnestra and Aigisthos</p>
</li>
</ul>
</section>
<section id="halftitlepage" epub:type="halftitlepage frontmatter">
<h2 epub:type="fulltitle">The Libation Bearers</h2>
</section>
<section id="the-libation-bearers" epub:type="z3998:drama bodymatter z3998:fiction">
<section id="the-libation-bearers-1" epub:type="z3998:scene">
<p>The scene represents the Grave of Agamemnon, a mound of earth in a desolate expanse. The time is afternoon. <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</b> and <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Pylades</b> in the garb of travellers, with swords at their sides, are discovered. <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</b> hair is cut short, that of <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Pylades</b> streams down his back. Both look grim and travel-stained. <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</b> holds a long tress of hair in his hand.<a href="#note-2" id="noteref-2" epub:type="noteref">2</a></p>
<table>
<tbody>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>O Warder Hermês of the world beneath,</span>
<br/>
<span>Son of the Father who is Lord of Death;</span>
<br/>
<span>Saviour, be thou my saviour; Help in War,<a href="#note-3" id="noteref-3" epub:type="noteref">3</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Help me! I am returned from lands afar</span>
<br/>
<span>To claim mine own. And on this headland steep</span>
<br/>
<span>Of death, I call my Father oer the deep</span>
<br/>
<span>To hearken, to give ear.—Behold, I bring</span>
<br/>
<span>Out of my poverty one little thing,</span>
<br/>
<span>To adorn thy grave, though who can touch the dead</span>
<br/>
<span>Or wake from sleep that unuplifted head?</span>
<br/>
<span>Yet long ago in Phôkis, where I lay</span>
<br/>
<span>With Strophius in the hills, being cast away</span>
<br/>
<span>In childhood, plundered by mine enemies,</span>
<br/>
<span>And friendless, save for this man, Pylades,</span>
<br/>
<span>I sware an oath which should for ever set</span>
<br/>
<span>In memory those they taught me to forget:</span>
<br/>
<span>If once I came to manhood, so I sware,</span>
<br/>
<span>In tresses twain I would divide mine hair,</span>
<br/>
<span>One tress for Inachos<a href="#note-4" id="noteref-4" epub:type="noteref">4</a> river, by whose grace</span>
<br/>
<span>I live, and one for mourning at this place.</span>
<br/>
<span>Which oath I here fulfil. <i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">He lays the tress of hair upon the upper part of the grave mound.</i> O Herald, lay</span>
<br/>
<span>Before his sight the gift I bring this day,</span>
<br/>
<span>Who stood not by to mourn him as he fell,</span>
<br/>
<span>Nor reached mine arms to bid the dead farewell. <i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">As he turns, he sees the Libation-Bearers approaching.</i></span>
<br/>
<span>Ha!</span>
<br/>
<span>What sight is this? What stricken multitude</span>
<br/>
<span>Of women here in raiment sable-hued</span>
<br/>
<span>Far-gleameth? How shall I interpret it?</span>
<br/>
<span>Hath some new death upon my lineage lit?</span>
<br/>
<span>Or is it to my fathers grave they go</span>
<br/>
<span>With offerings, to appease the wrath below?</span>
<br/>
<span>It must be. Surely tis Electra there,</span>
<br/>
<span>My sister, moves alone, none like to her</span>
<br/>
<span>In sorrow. Zeus, Oh, grant to me this day</span>
<br/>
<span>My vengeance, and be near me in the fray!</span>
<br/>
<span>Come, Pylades, stand further, till we know</span>
<br/>
<span>More sure, what means this embassy of woe. <i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction"><b epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</b> and <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Pylades</b> withdraw, as <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</b> with the <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Chorus</b> of women bearing offerings for the Grave enters from the other side.</i></span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Chorus<a href="#note-5" id="noteref-5" epub:type="noteref">5</a></td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<div>
<header>
<p>Strophe 1</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i4">Driven, yea, driven</span>
<br/>
<span>I come: I bear Peace-offering to the dead,</span>
<br/>
<span>Mine hands as blades that tear, my tresses riven,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i4">And cheek ploughed red.</span>
<br/>
<span>But all my years, before this day as after,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Have been fed full with weeping as with bread.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And this dumb cry of linen, as in pain,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Deep rent about my bosom, speaketh plain</span>
<br/>
<span>Of a life long since wounded, where no laughter</span>
<br/>
<span class="i4">Sounds nor shall sound again.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Antistrophe 1</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i4">Dread, very dread,<a href="#note-6" id="noteref-6" epub:type="noteref">6</a></span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And hair upstarting and the wrath that streams</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">From the heart of sleep, have first interpreted</span>
<br/>
<span class="i4">What manner of dreams</span>
<br/>
<span>This house hath dreamed; a voice of terror, blasting</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The midnight, up from the inmost place it grew,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Shaking the womens chambers; and the Seer,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Being sworn of God, made answer, there is here</span>
<br/>
<span>Anger of dead men wronged, and hate outlasting</span>
<br/>
<span class="i4">Death, against them that slew.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Strophe 2</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i4">Craving to fly that curse</span>
<br/>
<span>With graceless gift hither she urgeth me</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">—O Earth, Mother and Nurse!⁠—</span>
<br/>
<span>She whom God hateth. But my spirit fears</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">To speak the word it bears.</span>
<br/>
<span>When blood is spilt, how shall a gift set free?</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">O hearthstone wet with tears!</span>
<br/>
<span>O pillars of a house broken in twain!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Without sun, without love,</span>
<br/>
<span>Murk in the heart thereof and mist above,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">For a lord slain!</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Antistrophe 2</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i3">The reverence of old years</span>
<br/>
<span>Is gone, which not by battle nor by strife,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Stealing through charmèd ears,</span>
<br/>
<span>Lifted the peoples hearts to love their King;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Gone, yet the land still fears.</span>
<br/>
<span>For Fortune is a god and rules mens life.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Who knows the great Wheels swing,<a href="#note-7" id="noteref-7" epub:type="noteref">7</a></span>
<br/>
<span>How one is smitten swift in the eyes of light;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">For one affliction cries</span>
<br/>
<span>Slow from the border of sunset; and one lies</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">In deedless night?</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Strophe 3</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i3">Has Earth once drunk withal</span>
<br/>
<span>The blood of her child, Man, the avenging stain</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Hardens, nor flows again.</span>
<br/>
<span>A blind pain draweth the slayer, draweth him,</span>
<br/>
<span>On, on, till he is filled even to the brim</span>
<br/>
<span>With sickness of the soul to atone for all.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Antistrophe 3</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i3">The shrine of maidenhood</span>
<br/>
<span>Once broken neer may be unbroke again.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">And where mans life hath flowed,</span>
<br/>
<span>All the worlds rivers in their multitude</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Rolling shall strive in vain</span>
<br/>
<span>To clean from a brothers hand that ancient blood.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span class="i3">For me, God in far days</span>
<br/>
<span>Laid hand upon my city, and herded me</span>
<br/>
<span>From my old home to the House of Slavery,</span>
<br/>
<span>Where all is violence, and I needs must praise,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Just or unjust,</span>
<br/>
<span>The pleasure of them that rule, and speechless hold</span>
<br/>
<span>The ache of a heart that rageth in the dust.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Only behind the fold</span>
<br/>
<span>Of this still veil for a little I hide my face</span>
<br/>
<span>And weep for the blind doings of this race,</span>
<br/>
<span>And secret tears are in my heart, ice-cold.</span>
</p>
</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Ye thrallèd women, tirers of the bower,<a href="#note-8" id="noteref-8" epub:type="noteref">8</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Since ye are with me in this suppliant hour,</span>
<br/>
<span>Your escort giving, give your counsel too.</span>
<br/>
<span>What speech have I for utterance, when I sue</span>
<br/>
<span>With offerings to the dead? What word of love,</span>
<br/>
<span>What prayer to reach my father from above?</span>
<br/>
<span>“To dear Lord,” shall I say, “due gifts I bear</span>
<br/>
<span>From loving mistress”… when they come from her?</span>
<br/>
<span>I dare not. And I cannot find the word</span>
<br/>
<span>To speak, when offerings like these are poured</span>
<br/>
<span>Or shall I pray him, as mens custom is,</span>
<br/>
<span>To send to them who pay these offices</span>
<br/>
<span>Requital due… for murder and for pride?</span>
<br/>
<span>Or, as in silence and in shame he died,</span>
<br/>
<span>In shame and silence shall I pour this urn</span>
<br/>
<span>Of offering to the dust, and pouring turn,</span>
<br/>
<span>As men cast out some foulness they abhor,</span>
<br/>
<span>And fling the cup, and fly, and look no more?</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Share with me, Friends, this burden of strange thought.</span>
<br/>
<span>One hate doth make us one. Oh, hide not aught</span>
<br/>
<span>For fear of what may fall us! Destiny</span>
<br/>
<span>Waiteth alike for them that men call free,</span>
<br/>
<span>And them by others mastered. At thine ease</span>
<br/>
<span>Speak, if thou knowest of wiser words than these.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>As at Gods altar, since so fain thou art,</span>
<br/>
<span>Before this Tomb I will unveil my heart.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Speak, by his grave and in the fear thereof.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Pray as thou pourest: To all hearts of love</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>And who is such of all around us, who?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Thyself, and whoso hates Aigisthos true.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>For thee and me alone am I to pray?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Ask thine own understanding. It will say.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Who else? What heart that with our sorrow grieves?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Forget not that—far off—Orestes lives.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Oh, bravely spoke! Thou counsellest not in vain.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Next; on the sinners pray, their sin made plain</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Pray what? I know not. Oh, make clear my road!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Pray that there come to them or man or god</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>A judge? Or an avenger? Speak thy prayer.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Plain be thy word: one who shall slay the slayer.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>But dare I? Is it no sin thus to pray?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>How else? With hate thine hater to repay. <i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction"><b epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</b> mounts upon the Grave Mound and makes sacrifice.</i></span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Herald most high of living and of dead,</span>
<br/>
<span>Thou midnight Hermês, hear; and call the dread</span>
<br/>
<span>Spirits who dwell below the Earth, my vows</span>
<br/>
<span>To hearken and to watch my fathers house;</span>
<br/>
<span>And Earth our Mother, who doth all things breed</span>
<br/>
<span>And nurse, and takes again to her their seed.</span>
<br/>
<span>And I too with thee, as I pour these streams</span>
<br/>
<span>To wash dead hands, will call him in his dreams:</span>
<br/>
<span>O Father, pity me; pity thine own</span>
<br/>
<span>Orestes, and restore us to thy throne;</span>
<br/>
<span>We are lost, we are sold like slaves: and in our stead</span>
<br/>
<span>Lo, she hath brought thy murderer to her bed,</span>
<br/>
<span>Aigisthos. I am like one chained alway;</span>
<br/>
<span>Orestes wandering without house or stay;</span>
<br/>
<span>But they are full of pride, and make turmoil</span>
<br/>
<span>And banquet of the treasures of thy toil.</span>
<br/>
<span>Guide thou Orestes homeward, let there be</span>
<br/>
<span>Some chance to aid him:—Father, hark to me!</span>
<br/>
<span>And, oh, give me a heart to understand</span>
<br/>
<span>More than my mother, and a cleaner hand!</span>
<br/>
<span>These prayers for us; but for our enemies</span>
<br/>
<span>This also I speak: O Father, let there rise</span>
<br/>
<span>Against them thine Avenger, and again</span>
<br/>
<span>The slayer in just recompense be slain.⁠—</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Behold, I pray great evil, and I lay</span>
<br/>
<span>These tokens down; yea, midmost as I pray</span>
<br/>
<span>Against thine enemies I lay them—so.</span>
<br/>
<span>Do thou to us send blessing from below</span>
<br/>
<span>With Zeus, and Earth, and Right which conquereth all.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>These be the prayers on which mine offerings fall.</span>
<br/>
<span>Do ye set lamentation like a wreath</span>
<br/>
<span>Round them, and cry the triumph-song of death. <i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">She proceeds with the pouring of offerings and presently finds on the tomb the Lock of Hair. The <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Chorus</b> makes lamentation before the grave.</i></span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Chorus</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<p>
<span>Let fall the tear<a href="#note-9" id="noteref-9" epub:type="noteref">9</a> that plashes as it dies,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Where the dead lies,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Fall on this barrèd door,</span>
<br/>
<span>Where Good nor Evil entereth any more,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">This holy, abhorrèd thing,</span>
<br/>
<span>We turn from, praying.—Lo, the milk and wine</span>
<br/>
<span>Are poured. Awake and hear, thou awful King;</span>
<br/>
<span>Hear in thy darkened soul, O Master mine!</span>
</p>
<p>
<span class="i1">Oh, for some man of might</span>
<br/>
<span>To aid this land, some high and visible lord</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Of battle, shining bright</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Against Death; the great lance</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Bearing deliverance,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The back-bent Scythian bow, the hilted sword</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Close-held to smite and smite!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td>
<p>
<i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">Excitedly returning from the Grave.</i><a href="#note-10" id="noteref-10" epub:type="noteref">10</a>
</p>
<div epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Behold, The offerings of the dust are ministered:</span>
<br/>
<span>But counsel me. I bear another word.</span>
</p>
</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Speak on. My spirit leaps for eagerness.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Cast on the tomb I found this shaven tress.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Who cast it there? What man or zonèd maid?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Methinks that is a riddle quickly read!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Thy thought is swift; and may thine elder know?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>What head save mine would blazon thus its woe?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>She that should mourn him is his enemy.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td>
<p>
<i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">Musing, to herself.</i>
</p>
<div epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Strange bird, but of one feather to mine eye</span>
</p>
</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>With what? Oh, speak. Make thy comparison.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Look; think ye not tis wondrous like mine own?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Thy brothers!⁠ ⁠… Sent in secret! Can it be?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Tis like his long locks in my memory.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Orestes! Would he dare to walk this land?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Belike he sent it by anothers hand!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>That calls for tears no less, if never more</span>
<br/>
<span>His footstep may be set on Argos shore.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>At my heart also bitterer than gall</span>
<br/>
<span>A great wave beats. The iron hath passed thro all</span>
<br/>
<span>My being; and the stormy drops that rise</span>
<br/>
<span>Full unforbidden from these starvèd eyes,</span>
<br/>
<span>Gazing upon this hair. Tis past belief</span>
<br/>
<span>That any Argive tree hath shed this leaf.</span>
<br/>
<span>And sure she shore it not who wrought his death,</span>
<br/>
<span>My mother, godless, with no mothers faith</span>
<br/>
<span>Or kindness for her child.—And yet to swear</span>
<br/>
<span>Outright that this glad laugher is the hair</span>
<br/>
<span>Of my beloved Orestes.⁠ ⁠… Oh, I am weak</span>
<br/>
<span>With dreaming! Had it but a voice to speak</span>
<br/>
<span>Like some kind messenger, I had not been</span>
<br/>
<span>This phantom tossing in the wind between</span>
<br/>
<span>Two fancies. Either quick it would proclaim</span>
<br/>
<span>Its hate, if from some haters head it came;</span>
<br/>
<span>Or, if it were our own, with me twould shed</span>
<br/>
<span>Tears for this tomb and our great father dead</span>
<br/>
<span>Surely they know, these gods to whom we pray,</span>
<br/>
<span>Through what wild seas our vessel beats her way,</span>
<br/>
<span>And, if to save us is their will, may breed</span>
<br/>
<span>A mighty oak-trunk from a little seed<i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">She goes back to the Tomb, searching.</i></span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Ah see, the print of feet, a second sign!</span>
<br/>
<span>The same feet: surely they are shaped like mine.</span>
<br/>
<span>Surely! Two separate trails of feet are there:</span>
<br/>
<span>He and perchance some fellow traveller.</span>
<br/>
<span>The heels; the mark of the long muscle thrown</span>
<br/>
<span>Athwart them on the sand—just like mine own</span>
<br/>
<span>In shape and measure. What?⁠ ⁠… Oh, all is vain;</span>
<br/>
<span>Torment of heart and blinding of the brain!<a href="#note-11" id="noteref-11" epub:type="noteref">11</a> <i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">She buries her face in her hands. <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</b> rises from his hiding-place and stands before her.</i></span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Thy prayer hath borne its fruit. Hereafter tell</span>
<br/>
<span>The gods thy thanks, and may the end be well!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>What meanest thou? What hath God done for me?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Shown thee a face which thou hast longed to see.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>What face? What knowst thou of my secret heart?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Orestes. For that name all fire thou art.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>If that be so, how am I near mine end?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Here am I, Sister. Seek no closer friend.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Stranger! It is a plot thou layst for me!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Against mine own dear life that plot would be.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Thou mockst me! Thou wouldst laugh to hear me moan!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Who mocks thy tribulation mocks mine own.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>My heart half dares foretell that thou art he</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Nay, when I face thee plain thou wilt not see!</span>
<br/>
<span>Oh, seeing but that shorn tress of funeral hair</span>
<br/>
<span>Thy soul took wings and seemed to hold me there;</span>
<br/>
<span>Then peering in my steps… thou knewst them mine,</span>
<br/>
<span>Thy brothers, moulded feet and head like thine.</span>
<br/>
<span>Set the lock here, where it was cut. Behold</span>
<br/>
<span>This cloak I wear, thy woven work of old,</span>
<br/>
<span>The battened ridges and the broidered braid Of lions<i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction"><b epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</b> throws herself into his arms.</i> Hold! Ah, be not all dismayed</span>
<br/>
<span>With joy! Our nearest is our deadliest foe.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>O best beloved, O dreamed of long ago,</span>
<br/>
<span>Seed of deliverance washed with tears as rain,</span>
<br/>
<span>By thine own valour thou shalt build again</span>
<br/>
<span>Our fathers House! O lightener of mine eyes,</span>
<br/>
<span>Four places in my heart, four sanctities,</span>
<br/>
<span>Are thine. My father in thy face and mien</span>
<br/>
<span>Yet living: thine the love that might have been</span>
<br/>
<span>My mothers—whom I hate, most righteously</span>
<br/>
<span>And my poor sisters, fiercely doomed to die,</span>
<br/>
<span>And thou my faithful brother, who alone</span>
<br/>
<span>Hast cared for me.⁠ ⁠… O Victory, be our own</span>
<br/>
<span>This day, with Justice who doth hold us fast,</span>
<br/>
<span>And Zeus most high, who saveth at the last!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>O Zeus, O Zeus, look down on our estate!</span>
<br/>
<span>Hast seen thine eagles brood left desolate,</span>
<br/>
<span>The father in the fell toils overborne</span>
<br/>
<span>Of some foul serpent, and the young forlorn</span>
<br/>
<span>And starved with famine, still too weak of wing</span>
<br/>
<span>To bear to the nest their fathers harvesting?</span>
<br/>
<span>Even so am I, O Zeus, and even so</span>
<br/>
<span>This woman, both disfathered long ago,</span>
<br/>
<span>Both to one exile cast, both desolate.</span>
<br/>
<span>He was thy worshipper, thy giver great</span>
<br/>
<span>Of sacrifice. If thou tear down his nest,</span>
<br/>
<span>What hand like his shall glorify thy feast?</span>
<br/>
<span>Blot out the eagles brood, and where again</span>
<br/>
<span>Hast thou thy messenger to speak to men?</span>
<br/>
<span>Blast this most royal oak, what shade shall cool</span>
<br/>
<span>Thine altars on the death-day of the Bull?</span>
<br/>
<span>But cherish us, and from a little seed</span>
<br/>
<span>Thou shalt make great a House now fallen indeed.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>O Children, Saviours of your fathers House,</span>
<br/>
<span>Be silent! Children, all is perilous;</span>
<br/>
<span>And whoso hears may idly speak of ye</span>
<br/>
<span>To our masters; whom may I yet live to see</span>
<br/>
<span>Dead where the pine logs ooze in fragrant fire!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td>
<p>
<i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">He speaks with increasing horror as he proceeds.</i>
</p>
<div epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Oh, Loxias shall not mock<a href="#note-12" id="noteref-12" epub:type="noteref">12</a> my great desire,</span>
<br/>
<span>Who spoke his divine promise, charging me</span>
<br/>
<span>To thread this peril to the extremity:</span>
<br/>
<span>Yea, raised his awful voice and surging told</span>
<br/>
<span>To my hot heart of horrors stormy-cold</span>
<br/>
<span>Till I seek out those murderers, by the road</span>
<br/>
<span>Themselves have shown—so spake he—blood for blood,</span>
<br/>
<span>In gold-rejecting rage, the wild bulls way!<a href="#note-13" id="noteref-13" epub:type="noteref">13</a></span>
<br/>
<span>If not, for their offending I must pay</span>
<br/>
<span>With mine own life, in torment manifold.</span>
<br/>
<span>Of many things that rise from earth he told,</span>
<br/>
<span>To appease the angry dead: yea, and strange forms,</span>
<br/>
<span>On thee and me, of savage-fangèd worms,</span>
<br/>
<span>Climbing the flesh; lichens, which eat away</span>
<br/>
<span>Even unto nothingness our natural clay.</span>
<br/>
<span>And when they leave him, a mans hair is white.</span>
<br/>
<span>For him that disobeys, he said, the night</span>
<br/>
<span>Hath Furies, shapen of his fathers blood;</span>
<br/>
<span>Clear-seen, with eyeball straining through the hood</span>
<br/>
<span>Of darkness. The blind arrows of dead men</span>
<br/>
<span>Who cried their kin for mercy and were slain,</span>
<br/>
<span>And madness, and wild fear out of the night,</span>
<br/>
<span>Shall spur him, rack him, till from all mens sight</span>
<br/>
<span>Alone he goes, out to the desert dim,</span>
<br/>
<span>And that bronze horror<a href="#note-14" id="noteref-14" epub:type="noteref">14</a> clanging after him!</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>For such as he there is no mixing bowl,</span>
<br/>
<span>No dear libation that binds soul to soul:</span>
<br/>
<span>From every altar fire the unseen rage</span>
<br/>
<span>Outbars him: none shall give him harbourage,</span>
<br/>
<span>Nor rest beneath one roof with such an one;</span>
<br/>
<span>Till, without worship, without love, alone</span>
<br/>
<span>He crawls to his death, a carcase to the core</span>
<br/>
<span>Through-rotted, and embalmed to suffer more. <i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">Collecting himself.</i></span>
</p>
<p>
<span>So spake he… God, and is one to believe</span>
<br/>
<span>Such oracles as these? Nay, though I give</span>
<br/>
<span>No credence, the deed now must needs be done.</span>
<br/>
<span>So many things of power work here as one:</span>
<br/>
<span>The Gods command; grief for my father slain;</span>
<br/>
<span>And mine own beggary urgeth me amain,</span>
<br/>
<span>That never shall these Argives, famed afar,</span>
<br/>
<span>High conquerors of Troy in joyous war</span>
<br/>
<span>Cower to… two women. For he bears, I know,</span>
<br/>
<span>A womans heart.⁠ ⁠… If not, this day will show. <i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">He kneels at the Grave: <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</b> kneels opposite him and the <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Chorus</b> gather behind.</i></span>
</p>
</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Chorus</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<p>
<span>Ye great Apportionments of God,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The road of Righteousness make straight:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">“For tongue of hate be tongue of hate</span>
<br/>
<span>Made perfect”: thus, as falls her rod,</span>
<br/>
<span>Gods justice crieth: “For the blow</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Of death the blow of death atone.”</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">“On him that doeth shall be done”:</span>
<br/>
<span>Speaks a grey word of long ago.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<header>
<p>Strophe 1</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i2">O Father, Father of Doom,<a href="#note-15" id="noteref-15" epub:type="noteref">15</a></span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">What word, what deed from me,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Can waft afar to the silent room</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Where thy sleep holdeth thee</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">A light that shall rend thy gloom?</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Yet surely, the tale is told,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">That tears are comfort beneath the tomb</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">To the great Kings of old.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<header>
<p>Strophe 2</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i3">No fire ravening red,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i4">O Son, subdueth quite</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">The deep life of the dead;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i4">His wrath breaks from the night.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">When they weep for one who dies</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">His Avenger doth arise,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i4">Yea, for father and life-giver</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">There is Justice, when the cries</span>
<br/>
<span class="i4">And the tears run as a river.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<header>
<p>Antistrophe 1</p>
</header>
<p>
<span>O Father, hearken and save,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">For my sore sorrows sake!</span>
<br/>
<span>Children twain are above thy grave</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Seeking for thee: Oh, wake!</span>
<br/>
<span>Thy grave is their only home,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The beggared and outcast.</span>
<br/>
<span>What here is well? What is saved from doom?</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">O Atê strong to the last!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Chorus</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<p>
<span class="i1">Yet still it may be—God is strong</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">A changèd music shall be born</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">To sound above this dirge forlorn,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And the Kings House with Triumph-song</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Lead home a Friend in love new-sworn.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<header>
<p>Strophe 3</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">Would that in ancient days,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Father, some Lycian lance</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Had slain thee by Ilions wall;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Then hadst thou left great praise</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">In thy House, and thy childrens glance</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">In the streets were marked of all:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Men had upreared for thee</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">A high-piled burial hill</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">In a land beyond the sea;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">And the House could have borne its ill.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<header>
<p>Antistrophe 2</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">And all they who nobly died</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Would have loved him in that place,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And observed him in his pride</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">As he passed with royal pace</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">To a throne at the right hand</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Of the Kings of the Dark Land:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">For a king he was when living,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Above all who crownèd stand</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">With the sceptre of lawgiving.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<header>
<p>Antistrophe 3</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">Nay, would thou hadst died not ever!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Not by the Ilian Gate,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Not when the others fell</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Spear-broken beside the river!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">If they who wrought thee hate</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Had died, it had all been well:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">A strange death, full of fear,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">That the folk beyond far seas</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Should enquire thereof, and hear;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Not of our miseries!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Chorus</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<p>
<span class="i1">My daughter, rare as gold is rare,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">And blither than the skies behind</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">The raging of the northern wind</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Are these thy prayers: for what is prayer?</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Yet, be thou sure, this twofold scourge</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Is heard: it pierceth to the verge</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Of darkness, and your helpers now</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Are wakening. These encharioted</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Above us, lo, their hand is red!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Abhorrèd are they by the dead;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">But none so hates as he and thou!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<header>
<p>Strophe 4</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i3">Ah me, that word, that word<a href="#note-16" id="noteref-16" epub:type="noteref">16</a></span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Stabbeth my heart, as a sword!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">God, God, who sendest from below</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Blind vengeance in the wake</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Of sin, what deed have I to do,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">With hand most weak and full of woe?</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Tis for my fathers sake!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<header>
<p>Strophe 5</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i2">May it be mine, may it be mine,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">To dance about the blazing pine</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Crying, crying,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">“A man is slain, a woman dying!”</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">It hideth in my bosoms core,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">It beats its wings for death, for death,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">A bitter wind that blows before</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">The prow, a hate that festereth,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">A thing of horror, yet divine!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<header>
<p>Antistrophe 4</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i3">Zeus of the orphan, when</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Wilt lift thy hand among men?</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Let the land have a sign. Be strong,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">And smite the neck from the head.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">I ask for right after much wrong.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Hear me, O God! Hark to my song,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Ye Princedoms of the Dead!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Chorus</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<p>
<span class="i2">Tis written: the shed drop doth crave</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">For new blood. Yea, the murdered cry</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Of dead men shrieketh from the grave</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">To Her who out of sins gone by</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Makes new sin, that the old may die.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<header>
<p>Strophe 6</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i3">How? Are ye dumb, Ye Princedoms of the Dead?</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">O Curses of Them that perish, come hither, hither!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Look on this wreck of kings, the beaten head,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Bowed in despair, roofless, disherited!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Whither to turn, O Lord Zeus? Whither, whither?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<header>
<p>Antistrophe 5</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i2">My heart, my heart is tossed again</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">To see thee yielded up to pain,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Failing, failing;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Then mist is on my eyes and wailing</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">About mine ears, and tears as rain.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">But when once more I look on thee</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">With power exalted, sudden-swift</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">A hope doth all my burden lift,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">And light, and signs of things to be.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<header>
<p>Antistrophe 6</p>
</header>
<p>
<span>What best shall pierce thine ear; the wrongs she wrought,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Wrought upon us, upon us, she and none other?</span>
<br/>
<span>Oh, fawn and smile: but the wrongs shall soften not,</span>
<br/>
<span>Wrongs with a wolfish heart, by a wolf begot:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">They see no smile, they reck not the name of Mother!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Chorus</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<header>
<p>Strophe 7</p>
</header>
<p>
<span>With the dirge of Agbatana I beat my breast:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Like the Keeners of Kissia, I make songs of pain.</span>
<br/>
<span>Lo, yearning of arms abundant, east and west:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Tearing they smite, again and yet again,</span>
<br/>
<span>From above, from high; yea, God hath smitten red</span>
<br/>
<span>This bitter bleeding bosom, this bended head.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<header>
<p>Strophe 8</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i3">Ho, Mother! Ho, thou, Mother,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Mine enemy,<a href="#note-17" id="noteref-17" epub:type="noteref">17</a> daring all!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i4">What burial made ye here?</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">His people followed not,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Mourned him not, knew him not:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i4">Enemies bare his pall:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">His wife shed no tear!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<header>
<p>Strophe 9</p>
</header>
<p>
<span>All, all dishonour, so thy story telleth it!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And for that dishonour shall the woman pay,</span>
<br/>
<span>As the gods have willed it, as my right hand willeth it!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Then Death may take me, let me only slay!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<header>
<p>Antistrophe 9</p>
</header>
<p>
<span>His hands and feet, they were hacked away from him!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Yea, she that buried him, she wrought it so.</span>
<br/>
<span>To make thy life blasted, without help or stay from him.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Thou hast it all, the defiling and shame and woe! <i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction"><b epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</b> breaks down in speechless tears.</i></span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<header>
<p>Antistrophe 7</p>
</header>
<p>
<span>Thou tellest the doom he died, but I saw him not;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">I was far off, dishonoured and nothing worth.</span>
<br/>
<span>Like a dog they drove me back, and the door was shut,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And alone I poured my tears to him through the earth.</span>
<br/>
<span>I laughed not, yet rejoiced that none saw me weep.⁠—</span>
<br/>
<span>Write this in thine heart, O Father; grave it deep.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<header>
<p>Antistrophe 8</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i2">Write! Yea, and draw the word</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Deep unto that still land</span>
<br/>
<span class="i4">Where thy soul dwells in peace.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">What is, thou hast this day heard;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">What shall be, reach forth thine hand</span>
<br/>
<span class="i4">And take it! Be hard, be hard</span>
<br/>
<span class="i5">To smite and not cease!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td/>
<td>
<i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction"><b epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</b>, <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</b>, and the <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</b>.</i>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<header>
<p>Strophe 10</p>
</header>
<p>
<span>Thee, thee I call. Father, be near thine own.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<p>
<span class="i1">I also cry thee, choked with the tears that flow.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<p>
<span>Yea, all this band, it crieth to thee as one.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">All</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<p>
<span>O great King, hear us. Awake thee to the sun.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Be with us against thy foe!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<header>
<p>Antistrophe 10</p>
</header>
<p>
<span>The slayer shall meet the slayer, wrong smite with wrong.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<p>
<span class="i1">O Zeus, bless thou the murder to be this day.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<p>
<span>(Dost hear? Oh, fear is upon me and trembling strong.)</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">All</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<p>
<span>The day of Fate is old, it hath lingered long;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">It cometh to them that pray.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr class="together">
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Divers Women<a href="#note-18" id="noteref-18" epub:type="noteref">18</a></td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<div>
<header>
<p>Strophe 11</p>
</header>
<p>
<span>—Alas, alas, for the travail born in the race,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">—Alas for the harp of Atê, whose strings run blood,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">—The beaten bosom, the grief too wild to bear.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">—The pain that gnaweth, and will not sink to sleep.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Antistrophe 11</p>
</header>
<p>
<span>—The House hath healing<a href="#note-19" id="noteref-19" epub:type="noteref">19</a> for its own bitterness;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">—It is here within. None other can stay the flood;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">—Through bitter striving, through hate and old despair.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">—Behold the Song of the Daemons of the deep!</span>
</p>
</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>O Father mine, O most unkingly slain,</span>
<br/>
<span>Grant me the lordship of thy House again.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>A boon for me likewise, O Father, give;</span>
<br/>
<span>To lay Aigisthos in his blood and live.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>So men shall honour thee with wassail high;</span>
<br/>
<span>Else without meat or incense shalt thou lie,</span>
<br/>
<span>Unhonoured when the dead their banquets call.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>And I will pour thee offerings wondrous fair</span>
<br/>
<span>From my stored riches for a marriage-prayer,</span>
<br/>
<span>And this thy grave will honour more than all.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Send back, O Earth, my sire to comfort me.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>In power, in beauty, Great Persephone!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Remember, Father, how they laved thee there!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Remember the strange weaving thou didst wear!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>A snarèd beast in chains no anvil wrought!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>In coilèd webs of shame and evil thought!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Scorn upon scorn! Oh, art thou wakenèd?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Dost rear to sunlight that belovèd head?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Or send thine helping Vengeance to the light</span>
<br/>
<span>To aid the faithful: or let even fight</span>
<br/>
<span>Be joined in the same grapple as of yore,</span>
<br/>
<span>If, conquered, thou wouldst quell thy conqueror.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Yet one last cry: O Father, hear and save!</span>
<br/>
<span>Pity thy children cast upon thy grave:</span>
<br/>
<span>The woman pity, and the weeping man.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>And blot not out the old race that began</span>
<br/>
<span>With Pelops: and though slain thou art not dead!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Children are living voices for a head</span>
<br/>
<span>Long silent, floats which hold the net and keep</span>
<br/>
<span>The twisted line unfoundered in the deep.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Listen: tis thou we weep for, none but thou:</span>
<br/>
<span>Thyself art savèd if thou save us now.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Behold, ye have made a long and yearning praise,<a href="#note-20" id="noteref-20" epub:type="noteref">20</a></span>
<br/>
<span>This sepulchre for unlamented days</span>
<br/>
<span>Requiting to the full. And for the rest,</span>
<br/>
<span>Seeing now thine heart is lifted on the crest</span>
<br/>
<span>Of courage, get thee to the deed, and see</span>
<br/>
<span>What power the Daemon hath which guardeth thee.<a href="#note-21" id="noteref-21" epub:type="noteref">21</a></span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>So be it. Yet methinks to know one thing</span>
<br/>
<span>Were well. Why sent she this drink-offering?</span>
<br/>
<span>Hoped she by late atonement to undo</span>
<br/>
<span>That wrong eternal? A vain comfort, too,</span>
<br/>
<span>Sent to one dead, and feeling not!<a href="#note-22" id="noteref-22" epub:type="noteref">22</a> My mind</span>
<br/>
<span>Stumbles to understand what lies behind</span>
<br/>
<span>These gifts, so puny for the deed she hath done.</span>
<br/>
<span>Yea, though man offer all he hath to atone</span>
<br/>
<span>For one lifes blood, tis written, he hath lost</span>
<br/>
<span>That labour.—But enough. Say all thou knowst.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Son, I was near her, and could mark aright.</span>
<br/>
<span>A dream, a terror wandering in the night,</span>
<br/>
<span>Shook her dark spirit till she spoke that word.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>What was the dream she dreamed? Speak, if ye heard.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>She bore to life, she said, a Serpent Thing.<a href="#note-23" id="noteref-23" epub:type="noteref">23</a></span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>And after? To its head thy story bring.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>In swathing clothes she lapt it like a child.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>It craved for meat, that dragon of the wild?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Yes; in the dream she gave it her own breast.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>And took no scathing from the evil beast?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>The milk ran into blood. So deep it bit.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>The dream is come. The man shall follow it.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>And she, appalled, came shrieking out of sleep;</span>
<br/>
<span>And many a torch, long blinded in the deep</span>
<br/>
<span>Of darkness, in our chambers burst afire</span>
<br/>
<span>To cheer the Queen. Then spake she her desire,</span>
<br/>
<span>To send, as a swift medicine for the dread</span>
<br/>
<span>That held her, these peace offerings to the dead.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Behold, I pray this everlasting Earth,</span>
<br/>
<span>I pray my fathers grave, they bring to birth</span>
<br/>
<span>In fullness all this dream. And here am I</span>
<br/>
<span>To read its heart and message flawlessly.</span>
<br/>
<span>Seeing that this serpent, born whence I was born,</span>
<br/>
<span>Wore the same swathing-bands these limbs had worn,</span>
<br/>
<span>Fanged the same breast that suckled me of yore,</span>
<br/>
<span>And through the sweet milk drew that gout of gore;</span>
<br/>
<span>And seeing she understood, and sore afeared</span>
<br/>
<span>Shrieked: therefore it must be that, having reared</span>
<br/>
<span>A birth most ghastly, she in wrath shall die:</span>
<br/>
<span>And I, the beast, the serpent, even I</span>
<br/>
<span>Shall slay her! Be it so. The dream speaks clear.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>I take thyself for mine interpreter,</span>
<br/>
<span>And pray that this may be. But speak thy will</span>
<br/>
<span>Who shall be doing, say, and who be still?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Tis simply told. This woman makes her way</span>
<br/>
<span>Within, and ye my charges shall obey,</span>
<br/>
<span>That they who slew by guile a man most rare,</span>
<br/>
<span>By guile, and snarèd in the self-same snare,</span>
<br/>
<span>May die, as Lord Apollo hath foretold,</span>
<br/>
<span>Loxias the Seer, who never failed of old.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>First, I array me in a strangers guise,</span>
<br/>
<span>With all the gear of travel, and likewise</span>
<br/>
<span>This man—their guest and battle-guest of yore!</span>
<br/>
<span>Then hither shall we come, and stand before</span>
<br/>
<span>The courtyard gate, and call. Aye, we will teach</span>
<br/>
<span>Our tongues an accent of Parnassian speech,<a href="#note-24" id="noteref-24" epub:type="noteref">24</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Like men in Phôkis born. And say, perchance</span>
<br/>
<span>None of the warders with glad countenance</span>
<br/>
<span>Will ope to us, the House being so beset</span>
<br/>
<span>With evil: aye, what then? Then obdurate</span>
<br/>
<span>We shall wait on, till all who pass that way</span>
<br/>
<span>Shall make surmise against the House, and say</span>
<br/>
<span>“What ails Aigisthos? Wherefore doth he close</span>
<br/>
<span>His door against the traveller, if he knows</span>
<br/>
<span>And is within?” So comes it, soon or late,</span>
<br/>
<span>I cross the threshold of the courtyard gate;</span>
<br/>
<span>And entering find him on my fathers throne.⁠ ⁠…</span>
<br/>
<span>Or, say he is abroad and comes anon,</span>
<br/>
<span>And hears, and calls for me—and there am I</span>
<br/>
<span>Before him, face to face and eye to eye;</span>
<br/>
<span>“Whence comes the traveller?” ere he speaks it, dead</span>
<br/>
<span>I lay him, huddled round this leaping blade!<a href="#note-25" id="noteref-25" epub:type="noteref">25</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Then shall the Curse have drunken of our gore</span>
<br/>
<span>Her third, last, burning cup, and thirst no more.</span>
</p>
<p>
<span>Therefore go thou within, and watch withal</span>
<br/>
<span>That all this chance may well and aptly fall.</span>
<br/>
<span>For you, I charge ye of your lips take heed:</span>
<br/>
<span>Good words or silence, as the hour may need.</span>
<br/>
<span>While One Below<a href="#note-26" id="noteref-26" epub:type="noteref">26</a> his counsel shall afford</span>
<br/>
<span>And ope to me the strait way of the sword. <i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction"><b epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</b> and <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Pylades</b> depart, <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Electra</b> goes into the House.</i></span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Chorus<a href="#note-27" id="noteref-27" epub:type="noteref">27</a></td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<div>
<header>
<p>Strophe 1</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">Host on host, breedeth Earth</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Things of fear and ghastly birth;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Arm on arm spreads the Sea</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">That full of coilèd horrors be;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And fires the sky doth multiply;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And things that crawl, and things that fly,</span>
<br/>
<span>And they that are born in the wind can tell of the perils</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Of tempest and the Wrath on high.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Antistrophe 1</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">But, ah, the surge over-bold</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Of mans passion who hath told?</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Who the Love, wild as hate,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">In womans bosom desperate,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Which feedeth in the fields of Woe?</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Where lives of mortals linkèd go</span>
<br/>
<span>The heart of a woman is perilous past all perils</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Of stars above or deeps below.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Strophe 2</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i2">Wist ye not, O light of mind,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Her who slew her son with hate,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Thestios daughter desolate,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">How she wrought All her thought</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">To one counsel, fiery-blind,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">When she burned the brand of fate,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">That was twin to him and brother</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">From the hour of that first cry</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">When the babe came from the mother</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Till the strong man turned to die?</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Antistrophe 2</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i2">Wist ye not one loathed of old,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Who to win a foe did sell,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Cruel, him who loved her well;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Skylla, dyed with blood and pride,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Who craved the rings of Cretan gold</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">That Minos gave, too rich to tell;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Like a wolf at night she came</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Where he lay with tranquil breath,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">And she cut the Crest of Flame:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">And, a-sudden, all was death.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Strophe 3</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i2">But oer all terrors on mans tongue</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">The womans deed of Lemnos lies;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">It echoes, like an evil song,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Far off, and whensoeer there rise</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">New and strange sins, in dire surmise,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Men mind them of the Lemnian wrong.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Yet surely by the Sin Gods eye</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Abhorreth, mortal man shall die,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">And all the glory that was his.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">For who shall lift that thing on high</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Which God abaseth? Not amiss</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">I garner to my crown of woe</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">These sins of Woman long ago.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Antistrophe 3</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i2">O lust so old, so hard of heart!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">I lose me in the stories told,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Untimely. Have these walls no part</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">In ravening of desire, as bold</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">And evil as those deeds of old?</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">The House with dread thereof doth start</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">From dreaming. On, through woe or weal</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">A woman brooding planned her path,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Against a warrior robed in steel,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">And armies trembled at his wrath.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">And he is gone; and we must kneel</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">On a cold hearth and bow in fear</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Before a womans trembling spear.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Strophe 4</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i2">Lo, the sword hovereth at the throat</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">For Justice sake. It scorneth not</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">What the proud man to earth has trod.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Its edge is bitter to the bone;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">It stabbeth on, thro iron, thro stone,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Till it reach him who hath forgot</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">That Ruth which is the law of God.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Antistrophe 4</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i2">For Justice is an oak that yet</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Standeth; and Doom the Smith doth whet</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">His blade in the dark. But what is this?</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">A child led to the House from lands</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Far off, and blood upon his hands!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">The great Erinys wreaks her debt,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Whose thought is as the vast abyss.</span>
</p>
</div>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
</section>
<section id="the-libation-bearers-2" epub:type="z3998:scene">
<p>The scene now represents the front of the Palace of the Atridae, with one door leading to the main palace, another to the Womens House. Dusk is approaching.<a href="#note-28" id="noteref-28" epub:type="noteref">28</a> <i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">Enter <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</b> and <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Pylades</b>, disguised as merchants from Phôkis, with Attendants.</i></p>
<table>
<tbody>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Ho, Warder! Hear! One knocketh at your gate!⁠ ⁠…</span>
<br/>
<span>Ho, Warder, yet again! I knock and wait.⁠ ⁠…</span>
<br/>
<span>A third time, ye within! I call ye forth;</span>
<br/>
<span>Or counts your lord the stranger nothing worth?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">A Porter</td>
<td>
<p>
<i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">Within, opening the main door.</i>
</p>
<div epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Enough! I hear. What stranger and wherefrom?</span>
</p>
</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Go, rouse your masters. Tis to them I come,</span>
<br/>
<span>Bearing great news. And haste, for even now</span>
<br/>
<span>Nights darkling chariot presseth to the brow</span>
<br/>
<span>Of heaven, and wayfarers like us must find</span>
<br/>
<span>Quick anchorage in some resthouse for our kind.</span>
<br/>
<span>Let one come forth who bears authority;</span>
<br/>
<span>A woman, if God will; but if it be</span>
<br/>
<span>A man, twere seemlier. With a woman, speech</span>
<br/>
<span>Trembles and words are blinded. Man can teach</span>
<br/>
<span>Man all his purpose and make clear his thought. <i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">Enter <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Clytemnestra</b> from the House.</i></span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Clytemnestra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Strangers, your pleasure? If ye have need of aught</span>
<br/>
<span>All that beseems this House is yours to-day,</span>
<br/>
<span>Warm bathing and the couch that soothes away</span>
<br/>
<span>Toil, and the tendering of righteous eyes.<a href="#note-29" id="noteref-29" epub:type="noteref">29</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Else, if ye come on some grave enterprise,</span>
<br/>
<span>That is mans work; and I will find the man.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>I come from Phôkis, of the Daulian clan,<a href="#note-30" id="noteref-30" epub:type="noteref">30</a></span>
<br/>
<span>And, travelling hither, bearing mine own load</span>
<br/>
<span>Of merchandise, toward Argos, as the road</span>
<br/>
<span>Branched, there was one who met me, both of us</span>
<br/>
<span>Strangers to one another: Strophius,</span>
<br/>
<span>A Phocian prince, men called him. On we strode</span>
<br/>
<span>Together, till he asked me of my road</span>
<br/>
<span>And prayed me thus: “Stranger, since other care</span>
<br/>
<span>Takes thee to Argos, prithee find me there</span>
<br/>
<span>The kin of one Orestes.⁠ ⁠… Plainly said</span>
<br/>
<span>Is best remembered: tell them he is dead.</span>
<br/>
<span>Forget not. And howeer their choice may run,</span>
<br/>
<span>To bear his ashes home, or leave their son</span>
<br/>
<span>In a strange grave, in death an exile still,</span>
<br/>
<span>Discover, and bring back to me their will.</span>
<br/>
<span>Tell them his ashes lie with me, inurned</span>
<br/>
<span>In a great jar of bronze, and richly mourned.”</span>
<br/>
<span>So much I tell you straight, being all I heard.</span>
<br/>
<span>Howbeit, I know not if I speak my word</span>
<br/>
<span>To the right hearers, princes of this old</span>
<br/>
<span>Castle. Methinks his father should be told.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Clytemnestra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Ah me,</span>
<br/>
<span>So cometh the last wreck in spite of all!</span>
<br/>
<span>Curse of this House, thou foe that fearst no fall,</span>
<br/>
<span>How dost thou spy my hidden things and mar</span>
<br/>
<span>Their peace with keen-eyed arrows from afar,</span>
<br/>
<span>Till all who might have loved me, all, are gone!</span>
<br/>
<span>And now Orestes; whom I had thought upon</span>
<br/>
<span>So wisely, walking in free ways, his gait</span>
<br/>
<span>Unsnarèd in this poison-marsh of hate!</span>
<br/>
<span>The one last hope, the healing and the prayer</span>
<br/>
<span>Of this old House, twas writ on empty air!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>For me, in a great House and favoured thus</span>
<br/>
<span>By fortune, tis by tidings prosperous</span>
<br/>
<span>I fain were known and welcomed. Pleasantest</span>
<br/>
<span>Of all ties is the tie of host and guest.</span>
<br/>
<span>But my heart told me twere a faithless thing</span>
<br/>
<span>To fail a comrade in accomplishing</span>
<br/>
<span>His charge, when I had pledged both word and hand.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Clytemnestra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Not for our sorrow shall thy portion stand</span>
<br/>
<span>The lowlier, nor thyself be less our friend.</span>
<br/>
<span>Another would have told us; and the end</span>
<br/>
<span>Is all one. But tis time that strangers who</span>
<br/>
<span>Have spent long hours in travel should have due</span>
<br/>
<span>Refreshment. Ho, there! Lead him to our broad</span>
<br/>
<span>Guest-chambers, and these comrades of his road</span>
<br/>
<span>Who follow. See they find all comfort there</span>
<br/>
<span>To assuage their way-worn bodies. And have care</span>
<br/>
<span>That in their tendance naught be found amiss.</span>
<br/>
<span>Ourselves shall with our Lord consult of this</span>
<br/>
<span>Distress, and, having yet good friends, who know</span>
<br/>
<span>My heart, take counsel how to affront the blow. <i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction"><b epub:type="z3998:persona">Clytemnestra</b> goes back into the Womens House; Attendants lead <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</b> and his followers through the main door.</i></span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<p>
<span class="i2">Ye handmaidens, arise, be bold:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">See if our moving lips have power</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">To aid Orestes in his hour;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">For sure ye loved this House of old.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Chorus</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<p>
<span class="i1">Thou holy Earth, thou holy shore</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Beyond the grave, where rests his head</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">The Lord of Ships, the King, the Dead,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Now list, now aid, or never more!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The hour is full. The Guileful Word</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Descends to wrestle for the right,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">And Hermês guards the hour of night</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">For him that smiteth with the sword. <i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">The <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Nurse</b> enters from the Womens House, weeping.</i></span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>The stranger works some mischief, it would seem!</span>
<br/>
<span>Yonder I see Orestes Nurse, a-stream</span>
<br/>
<span>With tears.—How now, Kilissa, whither bound,</span>
<br/>
<span>And Grief the unbidden partner of thy round?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Nurse</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>The mistress bids me call Aigisthos here<a href="#note-31" id="noteref-31" epub:type="noteref">31</a></span>
<br/>
<span>Quickly, to see these two, and learn more clear,</span>
<br/>
<span>As man from man, the truth of what they tell.</span>
<br/>
<span>Oh, to us slaves she makes it pitiable</span>
<br/>
<span>And grievous, and keeps hid behind her eyes</span>
<br/>
<span>The leaping laughter. Aye, tis a rich prize</span>
<br/>
<span>For her, and for the House stark misery,</span>
<br/>
<span>This news the travellers tell so trippingly.</span>
<br/>
<span>And, Oh, Aigisthos, he, you may be sure,</span>
<br/>
<span>Will laugh to hear it!⁠ ⁠… Ah, I am a poor</span>
<br/>
<span>Old woman! Such a tangle as they were,</span>
<br/>
<span>The troubles in this House, and hard to bear,</span>
<br/>
<span>Long years back, and all aching in my breast!</span>
<br/>
<span>But none that hurt like this! Through all the rest</span>
<br/>
<span>Well, I was sore, but lived them down and smiled.</span>
<br/>
<span>But little Orestes, my hearts care, the child</span>
<br/>
<span>I took straight from his mother; and save me</span>
<br/>
<span>He had no other nurse! And, Oh, but he</span>
<br/>
<span>Could scream and order me to tramp the dark!</span>
<br/>
<span>Aye, times enough, and trouble enough, and stark</span>
<br/>
<span>Wasted at that! A small thing at the breast,</span>
<br/>
<span>That has no sense, you tend it like a beast,</span>
<br/>
<span>By guesswork. For he never speaks, not he,</span>
<br/>
<span>A babe in swaddling clothes, if thirst maybe</span>
<br/>
<span>Or hunger comes, or any natural need.</span>
<br/>
<span>The little belly takes its way. Indeed,</span>
<br/>
<span>Twas oft a prophet he wanted, not a nurse;</span>
<br/>
<span>And often enough my prophecies, of course,</span>
<br/>
<span>Came late, and then twas clothes to wash and dry,</span>
<br/>
<span>And fullers work as much as nurses. Aye,</span>
<br/>
<span>I followed both trades, from the day when first</span>
<br/>
<span>His father gave me Orestes to be nursed.⁠ ⁠…</span>
<br/>
<span>And now he is dead; and strangers come and tell</span>
<br/>
<span>The news to me. And this poor miserable</span>
<br/>
<span>Old woman must go tell the plunderer</span>
<br/>
<span>Who shames this house! Oh, glad he will be to hear!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>How doth she bid him come? In what array?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Nurse</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>I take thee not.⁠ ⁠… What is it ye would say?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Comes he with spears to guard him or alone?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Nurse</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>She bids him bring the spearmen of the throne.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Speak not that bidding to our loathèd Lord!</span>
<br/>
<span>“Alone, quick, fearing nothing” is the word.</span>
<br/>
<span>So speak, and in thy heart let joy prevail!</span>
<br/>
<span>The teller straighteneth many a crookèd tale.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Nurse</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>What ails thee? Are these tidings to thy mind?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>The wind is cold, but Zeus may change the wind.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Nurse</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>How, when Orestes, our one hope, is dead?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Not yet! So much the dullest seer can read.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Nurse</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>What meanst thou? There is something ye have heard!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Go, tell thy tale. Obey thy mistress word!</span>
<br/>
<span>God, where He guardeth, guardeth faithfully.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Nurse</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>I go.—May all be well, God helping me! <i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">The <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Nurse</b> goes out.</i></span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr class="together">
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Chorus</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<header>
<p>Strophe 1</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i3">—Lo, I pray God, this day:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i4">Father of Olympus, hear!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Grant thy fortunes healingly</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Fall for them who crave to see</span>
<br/>
<span class="i4">In this House of lust and fear,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i5">Purity, purity.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">—I have sinned not, I have spoken</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">In the name of Law unbroken;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Zeus, as thou art just, we pray thee</span>
<br/>
<span class="i4">Be his guard!<a href="#note-32" id="noteref-32" epub:type="noteref">32</a></span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr class="together">
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">All</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<div>
<p>
<span class="i2">There is One within the Gate</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Of his foemen, where they wait;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Oh, prefer him, Zeus, before them</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">And exalt and make him great:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Two- and threefold shall he pay thee</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Loves reward.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Antistrophe 1</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i3">—Seest thou one lost, alone,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i4">Child of him who loved thee well?</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">As a young steed he doth go,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Maddened, in the yoke of woe:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Oh, set measure on the swell,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i4">Forth and fro, forth and fro,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Of the beating hoofs that bear him</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Through this bitter course. Oh, spare him!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">By his innocence we pray thee</span>
<br/>
<span class="i4">Be his guard!</span>
</p>
</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr class="together">
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">All</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<div>
<p>
<span class="i2">There is One within the Gate</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Of his foemen, where they wait;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Oh, prefer him, Zeus, before them</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">And exalt and make him great:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Two- and threefold shall he pay thee</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Loves reward.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Strophe 2</p>
</header>
<p>
<span>—Gods of the treasure-house within,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">One-hearted, where the bronzen door</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">On darkness gloateth and on gold:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">With present cleansing wash the old</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Blight of this house: and aged Sin</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Amid the gloom shall breed no more!</span>
</p>
</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr class="together">
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">All</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<div>
<p>
<span>And, O light of the Great Cavern, let it be</span>
<br/>
<span>That this Mans house look up again, and see,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Till the dead veil of scorn</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And long darkness shall be torn,</span>
<br/>
<span>And the kind faces shine and old Argolis be free!</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Antistrophe 2</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">—And, Oh, let Hermês, Maia-born,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Be near, who moveth in his kind,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">As the wind blows, to help at need:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">The word he speaketh none may read:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Before his eyes the Day is torn</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">With darkness and the Night is blind.</span>
</p>
</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr class="together">
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">All</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<div>
<p>
<span>And, O Light of the Great Cavern, let it be</span>
<br/>
<span>That this Mans house look up again, and see,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">Till the dead veil of scorn</span>
<br/>
<span class="i1">And long darkness shall be torn,</span>
<br/>
<span>And the kind faces shine and old Argolis be free!</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Strophe 3</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i2">—Then, then the prison shall unclose:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">A wind of Freedom stream above:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">A flood which faileth not, a voice</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Telling of women that rejoice,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">One harp in many souls, one spell</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Enchanted. Ho, the ship goes well!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">For me, for me, this glory grows,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">And Evil flies from those I love.</span>
</p>
</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr class="together">
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">All</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<div>
<p>
<span class="i2">Oh, in courage and in power,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">When the deed comes and the hour,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">As she crieth to thee “Son”</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Let thy “Father” quell her breath!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">But a stroke and it is done,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">The unblamèd deed of death.<a href="#note-33" id="noteref-33" epub:type="noteref">33</a></span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Antistrophe 3</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i1">—The heart of Perseus, darkly strong,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Be lifted in thy breast to-day:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">For them thou lovest in the grave,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">For them on Earth, be blind, be brave:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Uphold the cloak before thine eyes</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">And see not while thy Gorgon dies;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">But him who sowed the seed of wrong,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Go, look him in the face and slay!</span>
</p>
</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">All</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<p>
<span class="i2">Oh, in courage and in power,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">When the deed comes and the hour,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">As she crieth to thee “Son,”</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Let thy “Father” quell her breath!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">But a stroke and it is done,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">The unblamèd deed of death. <i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">Enter from the country <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Aigisthos</b>.</i></span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Aigisthos<a href="#note-34" id="noteref-34" epub:type="noteref">34</a></td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>A message called me; else I scarce had thought</span>
<br/>
<span>To have come so quick. Tis a strange rumour, brought,</span>
<br/>
<span>They tell me, by some Phocian wayfarers</span>
<br/>
<span>In passing: strange, nor grateful to our ears.</span>
<br/>
<span>Orestes dead! A galling load it were</span>
<br/>
<span>And dripping blood for this poor House to bear,</span>
<br/>
<span>Still scored and festerous with its ancient wound.</span>
<br/>
<span>How shall I deem it? Living truth and sound?</span>
<br/>
<span>Or tales of women, born to terrify,</span>
<br/>
<span>That wildly leap, and up in mid-air die?</span>
<br/>
<span>What know ye further? I would have this clear.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>We heard the tale; but go within and hear</span>
<br/>
<span>With thine own ears. A rumoured word hath weak</span>
<br/>
<span>Force, when the man himself is there to speak.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Aigisthos</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Hear him I will, and question him beside.</span>
<br/>
<span>Was this man with Orestes when he died,</span>
<br/>
<span>Or speaks he too from rumour? If he lies</span>
<br/>
<span>He cannot cheat a mind that is all eyes. <i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">He enters the House.</i></span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Chorus</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<p>
<span class="i2">Zeus, Zeus, how shall I speak, and how<a href="#note-35" id="noteref-35" epub:type="noteref">35</a></span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Begin to pray thee and beseech?</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">How shall I ever mate with speech</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">This longing, and obtain my vow?</span>
</p>
<p>
<span class="i2">The edges of the blades that slay</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Creep forth to battle: shall it be</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Death, death for all eternity,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">On Agamemnons House this day;</span>
</p>
<p>
<span class="i2">Or sudden a new light of morn,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">A beacon fire for freedom won,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">The old sweet rule from sire to son,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">And golden Argolis reborn?</span>
</p>
<p>
<span class="i2">Against two conquerors all alone,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">His last death-grapple, deep in blood,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Orestes joineth.⁠ ⁠… O great God,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Give victory! <i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">Death-cry of <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Aigisthos</b> within.</i> Ha! The deed is done!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>How? What is wrought? Stand further from the door</span>
<br/>
<span>Till all is over. Move apart before</span>
<br/>
<span>Men mark, and deem us sharers in the strife.</span>
<br/>
<span>For after this tis war, for death or life. <i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">The Women stand back almost unseen. A Household <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Slave</b> rushes out from the main Door, and beats at the door of the Womens House.</i></span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Slave</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Ho!</span>
<br/>
<span>Treason! Our master! Treason! Haste amain!</span>
<br/>
<span>Treason within. Aigisthos lieth slain.</span>
<br/>
<span>Unbar, unbar, with all the speed ye may</span>
<br/>
<span>The womens gates! Oh, tear the bolts away!⁠ ⁠…</span>
<br/>
<span>God, but it needs a man, a lusty one,</span>
<br/>
<span>To help us, when all time for help is gone!</span>
<br/>
<span>What ho!</span>
<br/>
<span>I babble to deaf men, and labouring cry,</span>
<br/>
<span>To ears sleep-charmèd, words that fail and die.</span>
<br/>
<span>Where art thou, Clytemnestra? What dost thou?⁠ ⁠…</span>
<br/>
<span>Fore God, tis like to be her own neck now,</span>
<br/>
<span>In times revenge, that shivers to its fate. <i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">Enter <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Clytemnestra</b>.</i></span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Clytemnestra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>What wouldst thou? Why this clamour at our gate?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Slave</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>The dead are risen,<a href="#note-36" id="noteref-36" epub:type="noteref">36</a> and he that liveth slain.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Clytemnestra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Woes me! The riddle of thy speech is plain.</span>
<br/>
<span>By treason we shall die, even as we slew.⁠ ⁠…</span>
<br/>
<span>Ho, there, mine axe of battle! Let us try</span>
<br/>
<span>Who conquereth and who falleth, he or I!⁠ ⁠…</span>
<br/>
<span>To that meseemeth we are come, we two. <i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">Enter from the House <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</b> with drawn sword.</i></span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Tis thou I seek. With him my work is done.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Clytemnestra</td>
<td>
<p>
<i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">Suddenly failing.</i>
</p>
<div epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Woes me!</span>
<br/>
<span>Aigisthos, my beloved,<a href="#note-37" id="noteref-37" epub:type="noteref">37</a> my gallant one!</span>
</p>
</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Thou lovest him! Go then and lay thine head</span>
<br/>
<span>Beside him. Thou shalt not betray the dead. <i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">Makes as if to stab her.</i></span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Clytemnestra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Hold, O my son! My child, dost thou not fear</span>
<br/>
<span>To strike this breast? Hast thou not slumbered here,</span>
<br/>
<span>Thy gums draining the milk that I did give?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td>
<p>
<i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">Lowering his sword.</i>
</p>
<div epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Pylades!</span>
<br/>
<span>What can I? Dare I let my mother live?</span>
</p>
</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Pylades</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Where is Gods voice from out the golden cloud</span>
<br/>
<span>At Pytho? Where the plighted troth we vowed?</span>
<br/>
<span>Count all the world thy foe, save God on high.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>I will obey. Thou counsellest righteously.⁠—</span>
<br/>
<span>Follow! Upon his breast thou shalt expire</span>
<br/>
<span>Whom, living, thou didst hold above my sire.</span>
<br/>
<span>Go, lie in his dead arms!⁠ ⁠… This was the thing</span>
<br/>
<span>Thou lovedst, loathing thine anointed King.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Clytemnestra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>I nursed thee. I would fain grow old with thee.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Shall one who slew my father house with me?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Clytemnestra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Child, if I sinned, Fate had her part therein.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Then Fate is here, with the reward of sin.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Clytemnestra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Thou reckst not of a Mothers Curse, my child?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Not hers who cast me out into the wild.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Clytemnestra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Cast out? I sent thee to a war-friends Hall.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>A free mans heir, ye sold me like a thrall.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Clytemnestra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>If thou wast sold, where is the price I got?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>The price!⁠ ⁠… For very shame I speak it not.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Clytemnestra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Speak. But tell, too, thy fathers harlotries.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Judge not the toiler, thou who sittst at ease!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Clytemnestra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>A woman starves<a href="#note-38" id="noteref-38" epub:type="noteref">38</a> with no man near, my son.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Her mans toil wins her bread when he is gone.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Clytemnestra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>To kill thy mother, Child: is that thy will?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>I kill thee not: thyself it is doth kill.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Clytemnestra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>A mother hath her Watchers: think and quail!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>How shall I scape my Fathers if I fail?</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Clytemnestra</td>
<td>
<p>
<i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">To herself.</i>
</p>
<div epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Living, I cry for mercy to a tomb!</span>
</p>
</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Yea, from the grave my father speaks thy doom.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Clytemnestra</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Ah God! The serpent that I bare and fed!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Surely of truth prophetic is the dread</span>
<br/>
<span>That walketh among dreams. Most sinfully</span>
<br/>
<span>Thou slewest: now hath Sin her will of thee. <i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">He drives <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Clytemnestra</b> before him into the Palace. The <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Chorus</b> come forward again.</i></span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>For these twain also in their fall I weep.</span>
<br/>
<span>Yet, seeing Orestes now through mire so deep</span>
<br/>
<span>Hath climbed the crest, I can but pray this eye</span>
<br/>
<span>Of the Great House be not made blind and die.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Chorus<a href="#note-39" id="noteref-39" epub:type="noteref">39</a></td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<div>
<header>
<p>Strophe 1</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i2">Judgment came in the end</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">To Troy and the Trojans lord,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">(O Vengeance, heavy to fall!)</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">There came upon Atreus Hall</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Lion and lion friend,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">A sword came and a sword.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">A walker in Pythos way</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">On the neck of her kings hath trod,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">A beggar and outcast, yea,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">But led by God.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Antistrophe 1</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i2">Came He of the laughing lure,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">The guile and the secret blow,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">(O Vengeance, subtle to slay!)</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">But there held his hand that day</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">The Daughter of Zeus, the pure,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Justice yclept below.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Justice they called her name,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">For where is a goodlier?</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">And her breath is a sword of flame</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">On the foes of her.</span>
</p>
</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">All</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<div>
<p>
<span class="i2">Cry, Ho for the perils fled,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">For the end of the long dismay!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Cry, Ho for peace and bread;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">For the Castles lifted head,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">For the two defilers dead,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">And the winding of Fortunes way!</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Strophe 2</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i2">Even as Apollo gave</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">His charge on the Mountain, He</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Who holdeth the Earth-heart Cave,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Hast thou wrought innocently</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Great evil, hindered long,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Tracking thy mothers sin</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Is the power of God hemmed in</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">So strangely to work with wrong?</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Howbeit, let praise be given</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">To that which is throned in Heaven:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i4">The Gods are strong.</span>
</p>
</div>
<div>
<header>
<p>Antistrophe 2</p>
</header>
<p>
<span class="i2">And soon shall the Perfect Hour</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Oer the castles threshold stone</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Pass with his foot of power,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">When out to the dark is thrown</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">The sin thereof and the stain</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">By waters that purify.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Now, now with a laughing eye</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Gods fortune lieth plain;</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">And a cry on the wind is loud:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">“The stranger that held us bowed</span>
<br/>
<span class="i4">Is fallen again!”</span>
</p>
</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">All</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<p>
<span class="i2">O light of the dawn to be!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">The curb is broken in twain,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">And the mouth of the House set free.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Up, O thou House, and see!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Too long on the face of thee</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">The dust hath lain! <i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">The doors are thrown open, and <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</b> discovered standing over the dead bodies of <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Aigisthos</b> and <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Clytemnestra</b>. The Household is grouped about him and Attendants hold the great red robe in which Agamemnon was murdered.</i></span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td>
<p>
<i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">He speaks with ever-increasing excitement.</i>
</p>
<div epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Behold your linkèd conquerors! Behold<a href="#note-40" id="noteref-40" epub:type="noteref">40</a></span>
<br/>
<span>My Fathers foes, the spoilers of the fold!</span>
<br/>
<span>Oh, lordly were these twain, when thronèd high,</span>
<br/>
<span>And lovely now, as he who sees them lie</span>
<br/>
<span>Can read, two lovers faithful to their troth!</span>
<br/>
<span>They vowed to slay my father, or that both</span>
<br/>
<span>As one should die, and both the vows were true!</span>
<br/>
<span>And mark, all ye who hear this tale of rue,</span>
<br/>
<span>This robe, this trap that did my father greet,</span>
<br/>
<span>Irons of the hand and shackling of the feet!</span>
<br/>
<span>Outstretch it north and south: cast wide for me</span>
<br/>
<span>This man-entangler, that our Sire may see</span>
<br/>
<span>Not mine, but He who watcheth all deeds done,</span>
<br/>
<span>Yea, all my mothers wickedness, the Sun</span>
<br/>
<span>And bear me witness, when they seek some day</span>
<br/>
<span>To judge me, that in justice I did slay</span>
<br/>
<span>This woman: for of him I take no heed.</span>
<br/>
<span>He hath the adulterers doom, by law decreed.</span>
<br/>
<span>But she who planned this treason gainst her own</span>
<br/>
<span>Husband, whose child had lived beneath her zone</span>
<br/>
<span>Oh, child of love, now changed to hate and blood!⁠—</span>
<br/>
<span>What is she? Asp or lamprey of the mud,</span>
<br/>
<span>That, fangless, rotteth with her touch, so dire</span>
<br/>
<span>That hearts corruption and that lust like fire?</span>
<br/>
<span>Woman? Not woman, though I speak right fair. <i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">His eyes are caught by the great red robe.</i></span>
<br/>
<span>A dead mans winding-sheet? A hunters snare?</span>
<br/>
<span>A trap, a toil, a tangling of the feet.⁠ ⁠…</span>
<br/>
<span>I think a thief would get him this, a cheat</span>
<br/>
<span>That robs the stranger. He would snare them so,</span>
<br/>
<span>And kill them, kill them, and his heart would glow.⁠ ⁠…</span>
<br/>
<span>Not in my flesh, not in my house, O God,</span>
<br/>
<span>May this thing live! Ere that, Oh, lift thy rod</span>
<br/>
<span>And smiting blast me, dead without a child! <i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">He stops exhausted.</i></span>
</p>
</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Chorus</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<p>
<span class="i3">O deeds of anger and of pain!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">O woman miserably slain!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Alas! Alas!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">And he who lives shall grieve again.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Did she the deed or no? This robe defiled</span>
<br/>
<span>Doth bear me witness, where its web is gored,</span>
<br/>
<span>How deep the dye was of Aigisthos sword;</span>
<br/>
<span>And blood hath joined with the old years, to spoil</span>
<br/>
<span>The many tinctures of the broidered coil.</span>
<br/>
<span>Oh, now I weep, now praise him where he died,</span>
<br/>
<span>And calling on this web that pierced his side.⁠ ⁠…</span>
<br/>
<span>Pain, pain is all my doing, all my fate,</span>
<br/>
<span>My race, and my begetting: and I hate</span>
<br/>
<span>This victory that sears me like a brand.⁠ ⁠…</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Chorus</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<p>
<span class="i3">No mortal thro this life shall go</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">For ever portionless of woe.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Alas! Alas!</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">It comes to all, or swift or slow.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Yet wait: for I would have you understand.</span>
<br/>
<span>The end I know not. But methinks I steer</span>
<br/>
<span>Unseeing, like some broken charioteer,</span>
<br/>
<span>By curbless visions borne. And at my heart</span>
<br/>
<span>A thing of terror knocketh, that will start</span>
<br/>
<span>Sudden a-song, and she must dance to hear.</span>
<br/>
<span>But while I am still not mad, I here declare</span>
<br/>
<span>To all who love me, and confess, that I</span>
<br/>
<span>Have slain my mother, not unrighteously;</span>
<br/>
<span>Who with my fathers blood hath stained the sod</span>
<br/>
<span>Of Argos and drawn down the wrath of God.</span>
<br/>
<span>And the chief spell that wrought me to the deed</span>
<br/>
<span>Is Loxias, Lord of Pytho, who decreed</span>
<br/>
<span>His high commandment: if this thing I dare,</span>
<br/>
<span>He lays on me no sin: if I forbear</span>
<br/>
<span>I cannot speak his judgment: none can know</span>
<br/>
<span>The deeps thereof, no arrow from the bow</span>
<br/>
<span>Out-top it. Therefore here ye see me, how</span>
<br/>
<span>I go prepared, with wreaths and olive bough,</span>
<br/>
<span>To kneel in supplication on the floor</span>
<br/>
<span>Of Loxias, touch the fire that evermore</span>
<br/>
<span>Men call the undying, and the midmost stone</span>
<br/>
<span>Of Earth, flying this blood which is mine own.</span>
<br/>
<span>And how these evil things were wrought, I pray</span>
<br/>
<span>All men of Argos on an after day</span>
<br/>
<span>Remember, and bear witness faithfully</span>
<br/>
<span>When Meneläus comes.⁠ ⁠… And take from me,</span>
<br/>
<span>Living or dead, a wanderer and outcast</span>
<br/>
<span>For ever, this one word, my last, my last.⁠ ⁠…</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Nay, all is well. Leave no ill omen here,</span>
<br/>
<span>Nor bind upon thy lips the yoke of fear.<a href="#note-41" id="noteref-41" epub:type="noteref">41</a></span>
<br/>
<span>All Argos thou hast freed, and with one sweep</span>
<br/>
<span>Two serpents heads hurled reeking to the deep.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td>
<p>
<i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">Overcome with sudden terror.</i>
</p>
<div epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>Ah! Ah!</span>
<br/>
<span>Ye bondmaids! They are here: like Gorgons, gowned</span>
<br/>
<span>In darkness; all bewreathed and interwound</span>
<br/>
<span>With serpents!⁠ ⁠… I shall never rest again.</span>
</p>
</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>What fantasies, most father-loved of men,</span>
<br/>
<span>Haunt thee? Be strong, thou conqueror! Have no fear!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>These are no fantasies. They are here; they are here,</span>
<br/>
<span>The Hounds of my dead Mother, hot to kill.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>The blood upon thine hand is reeking still:</span>
<br/>
<span>For that the turmoil in thy heart is loud.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>O Lord Apollo! More and more they crowd</span>
<br/>
<span>Close, and their eyes drip blood, most horrible!</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Leader</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>One cleansing hast thou. Loxias can quell</span>
<br/>
<span>Thy tempest with his touch, and set thee free.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>You cannot see them. I alone can see.</span>
<br/>
<span>I am hunted.⁠ ⁠… I shall never rest again. <i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">Exit <b epub:type="z3998:persona">Orestes</b>.</i></span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr class="together">
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">Chorus</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>—Farewell. May blessing guide thee among men.</span>
<br/>
<span>—May God with love watch over thee, and heed</span>
<br/>
<span>Thy goings and be near thee at thy need.</span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td epub:type="z3998:persona">All</td>
<td epub:type="z3998:song">
<p>
<span class="i2">Behold a third great storm made wild<a href="#note-42" id="noteref-42" epub:type="noteref">42</a></span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">By winds of wrath within the race,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Hath shook this castle from its place.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">The ravin of the murdered child</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">First broke Thyestes in his pride:</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Second, a warrior and a King,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Chief of Achaias warfaring,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">Was smitten in the bath and died.</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">And Third, this Saviour or this last</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Doom from the deep. What end shall fall,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i3">Or peace, or death outsweeping all,</span>
<br/>
<span class="i2">When night comes and the Wrath is past? <i epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">Exeunt.</i></span>
</p>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
</section>
</section>
<section id="endnotes" epub:type="endnotes backmatter">
<h2 epub:type="title">Endnotes</h2>
<ol>
<li id="note-1" epub:type="endnote">
<p>I adopt this traditional Latin transliteration in preference to “Choephori.” <abbr>Cf.</abbr> Terences <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Adelphoe</i>. For readers without Greek I may mention that the word has four syllables, first the syllable “Co,” then “E for E.” <a href="#noteref-1" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-2" epub:type="endnote">
<p>The beginning of this play is lost, through an injury to the single <abbr>MS.</abbr> on which it depends. The <abbr>MS.</abbr> only begins at “Ha, what sight is this?” which is conventionally numbered <abbr>l.</abbr> 10, though probably there were at least twenty or thirty lines preceding it. Curiously enough, three passages from the missing part are quoted by different ancient authors, so that a good deal of it can be supplied. <a href="#noteref-2" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-3" epub:type="endnote">
<p>The meaning of this phrase was obscure even to Aeschylus contemporaries, and is discussed in Aristophanes <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Frogs</i> 1126 <abbr>ff.</abbr> It seems to mean that Hermês Psychopompos (Guide of the Dead) is son of Zeus Chthonios (Zeus of the Underworld). “Saviour” and “Help in War” are other titles of Hermês. <a href="#noteref-3" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-4" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Inachos: The river of Argos. So Achilles on reaching manhood cut off his long hair as a gift to the River Spercheios. Rivers in a land subject to drought were worshipped as “life-giving” or “rearers of young men” (<i lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">κουροτρόφοι</i>). <a href="#noteref-4" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-5" epub:type="endnote">
<p><b epub:type="z3998:persona">Chorus</b>: The Chorus are slave women taken in war. We know no more of them. They certainly do not seem to be Trojans, and, like the Nurse later, they have the feelings of loyal old retainers towards the House, hating Aigisthos and loving the memory of Agamemnon. Throughout the play Aigisthos is represented as a usurper and a tyrant, holding his rule by fear. <abbr>Cf.</abbr> (<abbr>ll.</abbr> 885 <abbr>ff.</abbr>, 935 <abbr>ff.</abbr>) the exultant tone of the two last choruses. <a href="#noteref-5" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-6" epub:type="endnote">
<p>“Dread, very dread”: Clytemnestra had a dangerous dream. If she had gone at once to a skilled interpreter, he might possibly have given it a favourable interpretation and thus partly averted the consequences. Instead of this she shrieked in terror. That shriek was itself an interpretation which could never be explained away. The prophets, when consulted, explained that the dream came from the anger of Agamemnon, and Clytemnestra then made the fatal mistake of sending offerings to his grave to appease his wrath. This was far too slight a thing to appease him; but it did awake him, and so enabled him to help his avengers. <a href="#noteref-6" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-7" epub:type="endnote">
<p>“Who knows the great Wheels swing,” <abbr>etc.</abbr>: A difficult passage. It seems to mean that justice (<abbr epub:type="z3998:initialism">i.e.</abbr> both retribution to the sinner and reparation to the sinned-against) sometimes comes quick and clear; sometimes is long delayed, and sometimes is wrapt in night, <abbr epub:type="z3998:initialism">i.e.</abbr> no one can say for certain whether it comes at all. <a href="#noteref-7" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-8" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Electra feels that it is a mockery, and perhaps an impiety, to pour the peace-offerings of the murderess. The Leader urges her not to hesitate, but deliberately to use the offerings as an appeal for vengeance. The thought at first appals her, but she nerves herself to it. In her prayer she deliberately tells her father the things that will most sting him into wakefulness. The passage “I lay these tokens down,” seems to mean that she puts upon the grave stones or some other objects to act as a perpetual reminder and keep her prayer alive. <a href="#noteref-8" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-9" epub:type="endnote">
<p><b epub:type="z3998:persona">Chorus</b>: “Let fall the tear,” <abbr>etc.</abbr>: The grave is a barrier-stone between the dead and the living, a “turner-back of Evil as of Good”; yet not absolutely so. The prayers of his children, and the tears of their suffering, may after all get past the barriers and reach the “darkened heart” of the dead. This idea is in the essence of the play. <a href="#noteref-9" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-10" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Recognition scene. It was a traditional story that Electra had recognized Orestes by a lock of hair, a footprint, and a bit of weaving. Aristophanes (<i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Clouds</i>, 534 <abbr>ff.</abbr>) speaks of his comedy, “like Electra of old, recognizing its brothers tress” when it meets a spectator of true Attic taste. It would be a mistake to apply realist canons to this ancient tale. Among barefooted peoples family likenesses are apt to be chiefly traced in the feet and hair. Both Arab and Australian “trackers” are cited to this effect, as also is the <i epub:type="se:name.publication.poem">Odyssey</i> (<span epub:type="z3998:roman">IV</span> 148 <abbr>ff.</abbr>, <span epub:type="z3998:roman">XIX</span> 358, 381). See Tuckers <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Choëphoroe</i>, <abbr>p.</abbr> <span epub:type="z3998:roman">LXVI</span>. It is interesting to note that Sophocles in his <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Electra</i> omits the traditional signs altogether. Euripides uses them, but uses them in a completely original way to illustrate Electras state of mind. An old peasant tries to show the “signs” to her. She longs to believe that Orestes has come, but in fear of disappointment refuses to look at them and rejects every suggestion of comfort. See my version and note there. (<abbr>P.</abbr> 31 <abbr>ff.</abbr>, <abbr>ll.</abbr> 508548.) <a href="#noteref-10" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-11" epub:type="endnote">
<p>“Torment of heart and blinding of the brain”: Electra bows down and buries her face in her hands. When she next looks up, there is an armed man like her father standing just above her fathers tomb. Note that she begins by refusing to believe. A motive which is afterwards deepened and elaborated by Euripides has been suggested by Aeschylus. See above. <a href="#noteref-11" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-12" epub:type="endnote">
<p>“Oh, Loxias shall not mock,” <abbr>etc.</abbr>: Orestes at the end of the play goes mad; before that certain of his speeches are strangely violent and incoherent. Scholars have generally supposed the text to be exceptionally corrupt, but I think it will be found that this particular tone of incoherence never comes except when there is a mention of Delphi and Apollos command. I think, therefore, that the wildness of these speeches is intentional, and the madness of the end does not come unprepared. It will be noticed in the last scene with what psychological daring as well as subtlety Aeschylus depicts the final collapse of his heros reason. <a href="#noteref-12" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-13" epub:type="endnote">
<p>“The wild bulls way”: Ought Orestes to accept a money payment to atone for his fathers slaying, or, like a wild bull driven out from the herd, should he accept no peace but insist on a life for a life? The commutation of the blood-feud for a money payment was, of course, a softening of primitive manners. As such, it is elaborately provided for in various codes of early law. Yet, while it marks a social advance, at the same time it often involves a softening and weakening of the sense of duty in the individual. Orestes could probably have lived in comfort if he had been willing to accept a large blood-price from Aigisthos and say no more about it. He prefers, with all its misery and danger, the absolute fulfilment of his duty to his father. To us, and in this special case to Aeschylus, the rule of vengeance seems savage. We speak glibly of the “duty of forgiveness.” But it should be remembered that we expect the police to arrest the offender and the judge to see that he is hanged. In Orestes days men had to do justice on the wicked with their own hands, or else leave them unpunished and triumphant. <a href="#noteref-13" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-14" epub:type="endnote">
<p>“That bronze horror”: The meaning is not known. It may be some instrument of torture, but more likely it is something intended to make a noise, like the bell sometimes worn by lepers in the Middle Ages, to warn people of the presence of the Accursed One. <a href="#noteref-14" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-15" epub:type="endnote">
<p>The Invocation. This extraordinary scene is really the heart of the play and gives to the <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Choëphoroe</i> a strange supernatural atmosphere which is absent from both the <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Electra</i> plays. There is no invocation scene in Sophocles; there is a brief one in Euripides (<i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Electra</i> 671685). It has great emotional effect but is only about 15 lines long and does not attempt to produce the cumulative impression of this scene, in which we feel human suffering and love gradually breaking through the barriers of death and earth and darkness. At the end the dead Agamemnon is awake, and Orestes hardly needs to think about the details of his dangerous plot. A power more than mortal is behind him. It will be noticed how the scene works up, like certain religious litanies, to a pitch of more and more overpowering and almost hysterical emotion: then, in the regular Greek manner, it descends again to something like calm. <a href="#noteref-15" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-16" epub:type="endnote">
<p>“Ah me, that word, that word”: The thought that he himself hates his mother is what pierces Orestes heart. In his next speech also he is bewildered. Not till <abbr>l.</abbr> 434, “All, all dishonour,” does he lose all scruple in the storm of his passion. <a href="#noteref-16" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-17" epub:type="endnote">
<p>“Ho, Mother; ho, thou, Mother, mine enemy!” First Electra tells of the shameful secret burial: this rouses Orestes to fury. Then the Leader tells of something worse. The murderess had mutilated the body; cut off the dead mans feet so that he could not pursue, and his hands so that he could not lay hold of her. This would make Agamemnon helpless, and so leave Orestes without hope. The unexpected abomination breaks Orestes down.—This device of terrified murderers is a piece of primitive magic. It is attributed to Clytemnestra by Sophocles (<i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Electra</i> 445), and to the witch Medea by Apollonius Rhodius. <a href="#noteref-17" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-18" epub:type="endnote">
<p>The use of an em-dash before a line of speech indicates that a different individual of the Chorus is speaking each line in the stanza. <cite>James Wright</cite> <a href="#noteref-18" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-19" epub:type="endnote">
<p>“The House hath healing,” <abbr epub:type="z3998:initialism">i.e.</abbr> the House itself can cure bloodshed by bloodshed, sin by vengeance. <a href="#noteref-19" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-20" epub:type="endnote">
<p>“Behold, ye have made a long and yearning praise”: The dead must surely now be satisfied. Even if neglected for years he has now had such a lamentation as requites him for all. <a href="#noteref-20" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-21" epub:type="endnote">
<p>“What power the Daemon hath which guardeth thee”: The word Daemon has no connotation of evil in classical Greek. <a href="#noteref-21" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-22" epub:type="endnote">
<p>“One dead and feeling not!”: Not strictly consistent perhaps with the invocation scene, but psychologically right. The dead are past feeling… unless something very extraordinary is done to make them feel. Then, who knows? <a href="#noteref-22" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-23" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Clytemnestras dream that she gave birth to a serpent is traditional. It is found both before Aeschylus and after. The asps of Libya and divers other serpent things were “matricides”; at birth they tore and killed their mother. See <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">Herodotus</i> 3, 109; Euripides <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Orestes</i> 479. <a href="#noteref-23" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-24" epub:type="endnote">
<p>“An accent of Parnassian speech”: It is interesting to note that there is no trace of Phocian dialect in Orestes actual language later on. To make him talk broad Phocian would, according to convention, have made him “comic,” like certain Boeotians, Spartans, and Scythians in Aristophanes. On the other hand, an oriental colour is often allowed in tragic language, especially in lyric passages, <abbr epub:type="z3998:initialism">e.g.</abbr> in Aeschylus <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Persae</i>. <a href="#noteref-24" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-25" epub:type="endnote">
<p>The reading is doubtful. I read <i lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">μ’ οἱ</i> for <i lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">μοι</i> and <i lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">καλεῖν</i> for <i lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">βαλεῖν</i>. <a href="#noteref-25" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-26" epub:type="endnote">
<p>“One Below”: <abbr epub:type="z3998:initialism">i.e.</abbr> Agamemnon. <a href="#noteref-26" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-27" epub:type="endnote">
<p><b epub:type="z3998:persona">Chorus</b>: The sense of this chorus is often difficult and the text apparently corrupt, especially the end. “There are many terrible things, but none so terrible as a womans passion; for instance (602), Althaea, daughter of Thestios, who slew her son Meleâger; or (612) Skylla of Megara who betrayed her father Nîsos; or (631) the Lemnian women, who slew their husbands; and, after all (623—a stanza has been transposed) have we not an example here in Clytemnestra?”</p>
<p>Althaea: See Swinburnes <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Atalanta in Calydon</i>. When her son Meleâger was born she saw in the room the three Fates, one of whom foretold that Meleâger should die when a red brand then burning in the fire was consumed. Althaea leapt out of bed and saved the brand. Afterwards, when Meleâger fell in love with Atalanta, and in a feud on her behalf killed his mothers two brethren, she threw the brand into the fire.</p>
<p>Skylla: Skylla, daughter of Nîsos, King of Megara, whose life depended on a magic lock of hair. She fell in love with Minos, who was besieging Megara, and betrayed her father to him. The rings of Cretan gold were apparently a love-gift.</p>
<p>Lemnos: The native women of Lemnos in one night rose and killed their Greek husbands, perhaps because the men had left them for Thracian concubines, perhaps for other reasons. See <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">Rise of the Greek Epic</i>, <abbr>Ed.</abbr> 2, <abbr>p.</abbr> 77. <a href="#noteref-27" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-28" epub:type="endnote">
<p>The time is now evening and the scene is in front of the castle of the Atreidae. In Aeschylus time there was probably no actual change made in the stage arrangements. The back wall represented a palace front, while in the centre of the orchestra was an altar or mound which stood for Agamemnons tomb. In the first half of the play you attended to the tomb and ignored the back scene: in the second you attended to the castle and ignored the mound.</p>
<p>Observe the delay before the door is opened. This increases the dramatic tension and at the same time makes us feel that the House is “beset with evil.” An ordinary great house would be thrown open at the first knock. <a href="#noteref-28" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-29" epub:type="endnote">
<p>The first entrance of Clytemnestra, about whom we have thought and talked so much, is immensely important. She comes unexpected, standing suddenly in the great doorway where we last saw her, with blood on her brow and an axe in her hands, standing over the dead bodies (<i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Agamemnon</i> 1372). Before that we had seen her in the same position, hardly less sinister, calling Cassandra to her death: “Thou, likewise, come within.” (<i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Agamemnon</i> 1035.)</p>
<p>The first entrances of Clytemnestra in the two <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Electra</i> plays are also striking. In Sophocles (<i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Electra</i> 516) she bursts in upon Electra, like a termagant, in a sudden agony of rage. In Euripides (<i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Electra</i> 998 <abbr>ff.</abbr>), when we have been led to expect a savage murderess, we meet “a sad, middle-aged woman whose first words are an apology, controlling quickly her old fires, anxious to be as little hated as possible.” <a href="#noteref-29" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-30" epub:type="endnote">
<p>There is an almost reckless fluency about Orestes speech. In his bitterness he treats the news of his death as a trifle, not showing, nor expecting from others, any particular emotion about it. As a matter of fact, it gives Clytemnestra a greater shock than he expected. There is no reason to doubt the general sincerity of her words. Of course, she feared Orestes and knew he was her enemy. When it comes to a fight she is ready. At the same time, she has, as shown in the last scenes of the <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Agamemnon</i>, an aching sense of disaster and friendlessness, and would like to think that, when all the rest of the House had gone under, the son she had sent away was living somewhere unhurt, and might perhaps be grateful to her. As it is, her old enemy, the Curse of the House, has beaten her. <a href="#noteref-30" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-31" epub:type="endnote">
<p>This poignant and vivid scene of the old nurse, ludicrous in her tears, is a striking departure from the stately conventions of Greek tragedy. Neither Sophocles nor Euripides has left any scene like it. Herakles in the <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Alcestis</i> is pro-Satyric. The panic-stricken Phrygian slave in the <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Orestes</i> (<i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Orestes</i> 13691530) is grotesque, but grotesquely horrible. In actual language the nurses diction is on the whole tragic in colour and her metre correct: the grammar is rather loose and exclamatory. The name “Kilissa” (Cilician woman) suggests a slave. <a href="#noteref-31" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-32" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Again the sense is difficult and the text extremely uncertain. The chorus pray in the name of their innocence and Agamemnons long service to Zeus for pity; to the Gods of the Possessions of the House (Latin <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">penates</i>, sometimes grouped together as Zeus Ktêsios) to help in the cleansing and rebuilding of the House (<abbr>l.</abbr> 800); to Apollo of the Cavern of Delphi, the God of Light, to help the House to light out of darkness (<abbr>l.</abbr> 812); to Hermês, the God of craft and secrecy, to help in a plot for the right (<abbr>l.</abbr> 819). The battle will be a battle of liberation from tyrants. <a href="#noteref-32" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-33" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Orestes should think of his duty to his father and forget all else. As Perseus when killing the Gorgon turned his eyes away lest her face should freeze him to stone, so let Orestes, when he meets his mother, veil his eyes and smite. <a href="#noteref-33" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-34" epub:type="endnote">
<p><b epub:type="z3998:persona">Aigisthos</b>: Just as they mention “him who sowed the seed of wrong,” he enters. In a short but vivid scene we may perhaps see the mans harshness and confidence, but the truth is that in Aeschylus we are told almost nothing about Aigisthos except that Clytemnestra loved him. <a href="#noteref-34" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-35" epub:type="endnote">
<p>The usual rather low-toned, prayerlike song broken in upon by the death-cry. (<abbr>Cf.</abbr> <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Agamemnon</i> 1342, Euripides <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Electra</i> 1163, <abbr>etc.</abbr>) The Chorus naturally shrink away from the house in order not to be involved in imminent danger. This also has the advantage that it leaves the scene empty, and the slave who rushes out in terror crying for help finds no one. I receive the impression that the scene is meant to be dark, which would imply that at the end of the play Orestes stood between men holding torches. There is wonderful power in this scene. There are no men to help; no women even; all the world is dumb and asleep. Then suddenly there is Clytemnestra. <a href="#noteref-35" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-36" epub:type="endnote">
<p>“The dead are risen”: A deliberately riddling line, in the Greek meaning either: “I tell thee the dead are slaying the living man,” or “I tell thee the living man is slaying the dead.” <a href="#noteref-36" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-37" epub:type="endnote">
<p>“Aigisthos, my beloved”: Up to this moment she has been ready to fight. The death of her beloved unstrings her. One would like to know whether Aeschylus meant her actually to have the axe and drop it, or whether Orestes is intended to come too soon. Note with what intensity even when the fight has gone out of her she fences for her life. Every line of the scene is charged with meaning and feeling. The thing that breaks her is the sudden realization (928) that this is the serpent of her dream. An interesting piece of technique which I have not tried to represent is here found in the original. Orestes words in 927 are so arranged as to produce almost exactly the word “hisses” (<i lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">σοὐρίζει</i> for <i lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">σοι ὁρίζει</i> = <i lang="grc" xml:lang="grc">συρίζει</i>). <a href="#noteref-37" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-38" epub:type="endnote">
<p>“A woman starves”: This is her first argument in <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Agamemnon</i> 862 <abbr>ff.</abbr>: “That any woman thus should sit alone,” <abbr>etc.</abbr> <a href="#noteref-38" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-39" epub:type="endnote">
<p><b epub:type="z3998:persona">Chorus</b>: A short song of exultation. Justice has come both to Troy and to Argos. Hermês, the God of Guile, has done it, but Justice held his hand and he only did her will. We have had several times already the scruples of Orestes conscience, but this is the first doubt expressed by the Chorus as to the righteousness of the mother-murder. “Is the power of God hemmed in so strangely to work with wrong?” All doubts, however, are swallowed up in joy at the liberation of Argos and the downfall of the tyrants. <a href="#noteref-39" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-40" epub:type="endnote">
<p>This marvellous scene scarcely needs comment. The showing of the robe in which Agamemnon was slain is, perhaps, imitated in the Forum Scene of <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Julius Caesar</i>, which came to Shakespeare direct from Plutarchs <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">Lives</i> (“Brutus” <abbr>ch.</abbr> 20, “Anthony” <abbr>ch.</abbr> 14). But the main interest here is in something quite different. The madness of which we have seen the approaching shadow now closes in upon Orestes. The first definite sign of it comes at <abbr>l.</abbr> 996, where, as Conington followed by <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Dr.</abbr> Verrall pointed out, he tries to find a name to describe his mother. As he gropes for the word, the great crimson robe with the stains of blood obsesses his mind and he calls her “a winding-sheet, a snare, a net,” and so on. (So Cassandra in <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Agamemnon</i> 114 calls her “a net and a snare.”) We may notice that “dead without a child” (1006) is a more awful curse in Greek than in English. He appears at this point to sink into speechlessness, only to rouse himself more fiercely at <abbr>l.</abbr> 1010: “Did she the deed or no?” The few low-toned lines of music by the Chorus add a great beauty to the scene. <a href="#noteref-40" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-41" epub:type="endnote">
<p>Orestes last sentence is unfinished; as he was evidently going to leave behind him some word of bad omen, the Leader of the Chorus interrupts with words of comfort. As she mentions the “two serpents heads” (1048) there is a cry of horror, and the “armed slayer” is seen appealing to the slave women to protect him. He has seen the shapes with snaky hair beginning to crowd upon him. The last touch of tragedy is in 1061 when he realizes that he is alone in his suffering (“You cannot see them; I alone can see”) and knows that he “shall never rest again.” <a href="#noteref-41" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
<li id="note-42" epub:type="endnote">
<p>The last chorus states with a clarity unusual in Aeschylus and more characteristic of Euripides, the exact problem of the Trilogy. First came the sin of Atreus against the children of Thyestes—though that too was an act of revenge; second, the punishment of that by Thyestes son Aigisthos when he and Clytemnestra murdered Agamemnon; thirdly, the punishment of that second crime at Apollos bidding by Orestes. Is Orestes the Third Saviour, or is his act only another link in the interminable chain of crime? If the Curse is now brought to sleep, is that because the House is really purified or because there is nothing left for the Curse to work upon? For the “Third Saviour,” see my <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">Four Stages of Greek Religion</i>, <abbr>p.</abbr> 46 <abbr>ff.</abbr> “First comes this year with its pride and its pollution, then the winter that kills it, then the clean spring. First comes the crime, then the punishment, which is only another crime, then perhaps the redemption.” Whether Orestes is a saviour or a final caster-down of the race is determined in the next play, the <i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">Eumenides</i>. <a href="#noteref-42" epub:type="backlink"></a></p>
</li>
</ol>
</section>
<section id="colophon" epub:type="colophon backmatter">
<header>
<h2 epub:type="title">Colophon</h2>
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epub:type="z3998:publisher-logo se:image.color-depth.black-on-transparent"/>
</header>
<p><i epub:type="se:name.publication.play">The Libation Bearers</i><br/>
was completed circa 458 <abbr epub:type="se:era z3998:initialism">BC</abbr> by<br/>
<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aeschylus">Aeschylus</a>.<br/>
It was translated from Ancient Greek in <time>1923</time> by<br/>
<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gilbert_Murray">Gilbert Murray</a>.</p>
<p>This ebook was produced for<br/>
<a href="https://standardebooks.org/">Standard Ebooks</a><br/>
by<br/>
<a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/emma-sweeney-554927190/">Emma Sweeney</a>,<br/>
and is based on a transcription produced in <time>2012</time> by<br/>
<b epub:type="z3998:personal-name">James Wright</b> and <a href="https://www.pgdpcanada.net/">Distributed Proofreaders Canada</a><br/>
for<br/>
<a href="https://www.fadedpage.com/showbook.php?pid=20120840">Faded Page</a><br/>
and on digital scans from the<br/>
<a href="https://archive.org/details/chophoroelibat03aescuoft">Internet Archive</a>.</p>
<p>The cover page is adapted from<br/>
<i epub:type="se:name.visual-art.painting">Electra at the Tomb of Agamemnon</i>,<br/>
a painting completed in <time>1869</time> by<br/>
<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frederic_Leighton">Frederick Leighton</a>.<br/>
The cover and title pages feature the<br/>
<b epub:type="se:name.visual-art.typeface">League Spartan</b> and <b epub:type="se:name.visual-art.typeface">Sorts Mill Goudy</b><br/>
typefaces created in <time>2014</time> and <time>2009</time> by<br/>
<a href="https://www.theleagueofmoveabletype.com/">The League of Moveable Type</a>.</p>
<p>The first edition of this ebook was released on<br/>
<time datetime="2024-09-18T16:57:49Z">September 18, 2024, 4:57 <abbr class="eoc">p.m.</abbr></time><br/>
You can check for updates to this ebook, view its revision history, or download it for different ereading systems at<br/>
<a href="https://standardebooks.org/ebooks/aeschylus/the-libation-bearers/gilbert-murray">standardebooks.org/ebooks/aeschylus/the-libation-bearers/gilbert-murray</a>.</p>
<p>The volunteer-driven Standard Ebooks project relies on readers like you to submit typos, corrections, and other improvements. Anyone can contribute at <a href="https://standardebooks.org/">standardebooks.org</a>.</p>
</section>
<section id="uncopyright" epub:type="copyright-page backmatter">
<h2 epub:type="title">Uncopyright</h2>
<blockquote epub:type="z3998:verse">
<p>
<span>May you do good and not evil.</span>
<br/>
<span>May you find forgiveness for yourself and forgive others.</span>
<br/>
<span>May you share freely, never taking more than you give.</span>
</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Copyright pages exist to tell you that you <em>cant</em> do something. Unlike them, this Uncopyright page exists to tell you that the writing and artwork in this ebook are believed to be in the United States public domain; that is, they are believed to be free of copyright restrictions in the United States. The United States public domain represents our collective cultural heritage, and items in it are free for anyone in the United States to do almost anything at all with, without having to get permission.</p>
<p>Copyright laws are different all over the world, and the source text or artwork in this ebook may still be copyrighted in other countries. If youre not located in the United States, you must check your local laws before using this ebook. Standard Ebooks makes no representations regarding the copyright status of the source text or artwork in this ebook in any country other than the United States.</p>
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