1The scene
[The scene represents a hut on a desolate mountain side; the river Inachus is visible in the distance. The time is the dusk of early dawn, before sunrise. The PEASANT is discovered in front of the hut.]
2Peasant
Old gleam on the face of the world, I give thee hail,River of Argos land, where sail on sailThe long ships met, a thousand, near and far,When Agamemnon walked the seas in war;Who smote King Priam in the dust, and burnedThe storied streets of Ilion, and returnedAbove all conquerors, heaping tower and faneOf Argos high with spoils of Eastern slain.
So in far lands he prospered; and at homeHis own wife trapped and slew him. 'Twas the doomAegisthus wrought, son of his father's foe.
Gone is that King, and the old spear laid lowThat Tantalus wielded when the world was young.Aegisthus hath his queen, and reigns amongHis people. And the children here alone,Orestes and Electra, buds unblownOf man and womanhood, when forth to TroyHe shook his sail and left them--lo, the boyOrestes, ere Aegisthus' hand could fall,Was stolen from Argos--borne by one old thrall,Who served his father's boyhood, over seasFar off, and laid upon King Strophios' kneesIn Phocis, for the old king's sake. But hereThe maid Electra waited, year by year,Alone, till the warm days of womanhoodDrew nigh and suitors came of gentle bloodIn Hellas. Then Aegisthus was in fearLest she be wed in some great house, and bearA son to avenge her father. Close he wroughtHer prison in his house, and gave her notTo any wooer. Then, since even thisWas full of peril, and the secret kissOf some bold prince might find her yet, and rendHer prison walls, Aegisthus at the endWould slay her. Then her mother, she so wildAforetime, pled with him and saved her child.Her heart had still an answer for her lordMurdered, but if the child's blood spoke, what wordCould meet the hate thereof? After that dayAegisthus thus decreed: whoso should slayThe old king's wandering son, should win rich meedOf gold; and for Electra, she must wedWith me, not base of blood--in that I standTrue Mycenaean--but in gold and landMost poor, which maketh highest birth as naught.So from a powerless husband shall be wroughtA powerless peril. Had some man of mightPossessed her, he had called perchance to lightHer father's blood, and unknown vengeancesRisen on Aegisthus yet.Aye, mine she is:But never yet these arms--the Cyprian knowsMy truth!--have clasped her body, and she goesA virgin still. Myself would hold it shameTo abase this daughter of a royal name.I am too lowly to love violence. Yea,Orestes too doth move me, far away,Mine unknown brother! Will he ever nowCome back and see his sister bowed so low?
Doth any deem me fool, to hold a fairMaid in my room and seek no joy, but spareHer maidenhood? If any such there be,Let him but look within. The fool is heIn gentle things, weighing the more and lessOf love by his own heart's untenderness.
[As he ceases ELECTRA comes out of the hut. She is in mourning garb, and carries a large pitcher on her head. She speaks without observing the PEASANT'S presence.
3Electra
Dark shepherdess of many a golden star,Dost see me, Mother Night? And how this jarHath worn my earth-bowed head, as forth and froFor water to the hillward springs I go?Not for mere stress of need, but purpose set,That never day nor night God may forgetAegisthus' sin: aye, and perchance a cryCast forth to the waste shining of the skyMay find my father's ear.... The woman bredOf Tyndareus, my mother--on her headBe curses!--from my house hath outcast me;She hath borne children to our enemy;She hath made me naught, she hath made Orestes naught....
[As the bitterness of her tone increases, the PEASANT comes forward.
4Peasant
What wouldst thou now, my sad one, ever fraughtWith toil to lighten my toil? And so softThy nurture was! Have I not chid thee oft,And thou wilt cease not, serving without end?
5Electra (turning to him with impulsive affection)
O friend, my friend, as God might be my friend,Thou only hast not trampled on my tears.Life scarce can be so hard, 'mid many fearsAnd many shames, when mortal heart can findSomewhere one healing touch, as my sick mindFinds thee.... And should I wait thy word, to endureA little for thine easing, yea, or pourMy strength out in thy toiling fellowship?Thou hast enough with fields and kine to keep;'Tis mine to make all bright within the door.'Tis joy to him that toils, when toil is o'er,To find home waiting, full of happy things.
6Peasant
If so it please thee, go thy way. The springsAre not far off. And I before the mornMust drive my team afield, and sow the cornIn the hollows.--Not a thousand prayers can gainA man's bare bread, save an he work amain.
[ELECTRA and the PEASANT depart on their several ways. After a few moments there enter stealthily two armed men, ORESTES and PYLADES.
7Orestes
Thou art the first that I have known in deedTrue and my friend, and shelterer of my need.Thou only, Pylades, of all that knew,Hast held Orestes of some worth, all throughThese years of helplessness, wherein I lieDowntrodden by the murderer--yea, and byThe murderess, my mother!... I am come,Fresh from the cleansing of Apollo, homeTo Argos--and my coming no man yetKnoweth--to pay the bloody twain their debtOf blood. This very night I crept aloneTo my dead father's grave, and poured thereonMy heart's first tears and tresses of my headNew-shorn, and o'er the barrow of the deadSlew a black lamb, unknown of them that reignIn this unhappy land.... I am not fainTo pass the city gates, but hold me hereHard on the borders. So my road is clearTo fly if men look close and watch my way;If not, to seek my sister. For men sayShe dwelleth in these hills, no more a maidBut wedded. I must find her house, for aidTo guide our work, and learn what hath betidOf late in Argos.--Ha, the radiant lidOf Dawn's eye lifteth! Come, friend; leave we nowThis trodden path. Some worker of the plough,Or serving damsel at her early taskWill presently come by, whom we may askIf here my sister dwells. But soft! Even nowI see some bondmaid there, her death-shorn browBending beneath its freight of well-water.Lie close until she pass; then question her.A slave might help us well, or speak some signOf import to this work of mine and thine.
[The two men retire into ambush. ELECTRA enters, returning from the well.
8Electra
Onward, O labouring tread,As on move the years;Onward amid thy tears,O happier dead!
Let me remember. I am she, [Strophe 1.Agamemnon's child, and the mother of meClytemnestra, the evil Queen,Helen's sister. And folk, I ween,That pass in the streets call yet my nameElectra.... God protect my shame!For toil, toil is a weary thing,And life is heavy about my head;And thou far off, O Father and King,In the lost lands of the dead.A bloody twain made these things be;One was thy bitterest enemy,And one the wife that lay by thee.
Brother, brother, on some far shore [Antistrophe 1.Hast thou a city, is there a doorThat knows thy footfall, Wandering One?Who left me, left me, when all our painWas bitter about us, a father slain,And a girl that wept in her room alone.Thou couldst break me this bondage sore,Only thou, who art far away,Loose our father, and wake once more....Zeus, Zeus, dost hear me pray?...The sleeping blood and the shame and the doom!O feet that rest not, over the foamOf distant seas, come home, come home!
What boots this cruse that I carry? [Strophe 2.O, set free my brow!For the gathered tears that tarryThrough the day and the dark till now,Now in the dawn are free,Father, and flow beneathThe floor of the world, to beAs a song in she house of Death:From the rising up of the dayThey guide my heart alway,The silent tears unshed,And my body mourns for the dead;My cheeks bleed silently,And these bruised temples keepTheir pain, remembering theeAnd thy bloody sleep.
Be rent, O hair of mine head!
As a swan crying aloneWhere the river windeth cold,For a loved, for a silent one,Whom the toils of the fowler hold,I cry, Father, to thee,O slain in misery!
The water, the wan water, [Antistrophe 2.Lapped him, and his headDrooped in the bed of slaughterLow, as one wearièd;Woe for the edgèd axe,And woe for the heart of hate,Houndlike about thy tracks,O conqueror desolate,From Troy over land and sea,Till a wife stood waiting thee;Not with crowns did she stand,Nor flowers of peace in her hand;With Aegisthus' dagger drawnFor her hire she strove,Through shame and through blood alone;And won her a traitor's love.
[As she ceases there enter from right and left the CHORUS, consisting of women of Argos, young and old, in festal dress.
9Chorus
[Some Women.]
Child of the mighty dead, [Strophe.Electra, lo, my wayTo thee in the dawn hath sped,And the cot on the mountain grey,For the Watcher hath cried this day:He of the ancient folk,The walker of waste and hill,Who drinketh the milk of the flock;And he told of Hera's will;For the morrow's morrow nowThey cry her festival,And before her throne shall bowOur damsels all.
10Electra
Not unto joy, nor sweetMusic, nor shining of gold,The wings of my spirit beat.Let the brides of Argos holdTheir dance in the night, as of old;I lead no dance; I markNo beat as the dancers sway;With tears I dwell in the dark,And my thought is of tears alway,To the going down of the day.Look on my wasted hairAnd raiment.... This that I bear,Is it meet for the King my sire,And her whom the King begot?For Troy, that was burned with fireAnd forgetteth not?
11Chorus
[Other Women.]
Hera is great!--Ah, come, [Antistrophe.Be kind; and my hand shall bringFair raiment, work of the loom,And many a golden thing,For joyous robe-wearing.Deemest thou this thy woeShall rise unto God as prayer,Or bend thine haters low?Doth God for thy pain have care?Not tears for the dead nor sighs,But worship and joy divineShall win thee peace in thy skies,O daughter mine!
12Electra
No care cometh to GodFor the voice of the helpless; noneFor the crying of ancient blood.Alas for him that is gone,And for thee, O wandering one:That now, methinks, in a landOf the stranger must toil for hire,And stand where the poor men stand,A-cold by another's fire,O son of the mighty sire:While I in a beggar's cotOn the wrecked hills, changing not,Starve in my soul for food;But our mother lieth wedIn another's arms, and bloodIs about her bed.
13Leader
On all of Greece she wrought great jeopardy,Thy mother's sister, Helen,--and on thee.
[ORESTES and PYLADES move out from their concealment; ORESTES comes forward: PYLADES beckons to two ARMED SERVANTS and stays with them in the background.
14Electra
Woe's me! No more of wailing! Women, flee!Strange armèd men beside the dwelling thereLie ambushed! They are rising from their lair.Back by the road, all you. I will essayThe house; and may our good feet save us!
15Orestes (between ELECTRA and the hut)
Stay,Unhappy woman! Never fear my steel.
16Electra (in utter panic)
O bright Apollo! Mercy! See, I kneel;Slay me not.
17Orestes
Others I have yet to slayLess dear than thou.
18Electra
Go from me! Wouldst thou layHand on a body that is not for thee?
19Orestes
None is there I would touch more righteously.
20Electra
Why lurk'st thou by my house? And why a sword?
21Orestes
Stay. Listen! Thou wilt not gainsay my word.
22Electra
There--I am still. Do what thou wilt with me.Thou art too strong.
23Orestes
A word I bear to thee...Word of thy brother.
24Electra
Oh, friend! More than friend!Living or dead?
25Orestes
He lives; so let me sendMy comfort foremost, ere the rest be heard.
26Electra
God love thee for the sweetness of thy word!
27Orestes
God love the twain of us, both thee and me.
28Electra
He lives! Poor brother! In what land weareth heHis exile?
29Orestes
Not one region nor one lotHis wasted life hath trod.
30Electra
He lacketh notFor bread?
31Orestes
Bread hath he; but a man is weakIn exile.
32Electra
What charge laid he on thee? Speak.
33Orestes
To learn if thou still live, and how the storm,Living, hath struck thee.
34Electra
That thou seest; this formWasted...
35Orestes
Yea, riven with the fire of woe.I sigh to look on thee.
36Electra
My face; and, lo,My temples of their ancient glory shorn.
37Orestes
Methinks thy brother haunts thee, being forlorn;Aye, and perchance thy father, whom they slew...
38Electra
What should be nearer to me than those two?
39Orestes
And what to him, thy brother, half so dearAs thou?
40Electra
His is a distant love, not nearAt need.
41Orestes
But why this dwelling place, this lifeOf loneliness?
42Electra (with sudden bitterness)
Stranger, I am a wife....O better dead!
43Orestes
That seals thy brother's doom!What Prince of Argos...?
44Electra
Not the man to whomMy father thought to give me.
45Orestes
Speak; that IMay tell thy brother all.
46Electra
'Tis there, hard by,His dwelling, where I live, far from men's eyes.
47Orestes
Some ditcher's cot, or cowherd's, by its guise!
48Electra (struck with shame for her ingratitude)
A poor man; but true-hearted, and to meGod-fearing.
49Orestes
How? What fear of God hath he?
50Electra
He hath never held my body to his own.
51Orestes
Hath he some vow to keep? Or is it doneTo scorn thee?
52Electra
Nay; he only scorns to sinAgainst my father's greatness.
53Orestes
But to winA princess! Doth his heart not leap for pride?
54Electra
He honoureth not the hand that gave the bride.
55Orestes
I see. He trembles for Orestes' wrath?
56Electra
Aye, that would move him. But beside, he hathA gentle heart.
57Orestes
Strange! A good man.... I swearHe well shall be requited.
58Electra
Whensoe'erOur wanderer comes again!
59Orestes
Thy mother staysUnmoved 'mid all thy wrong?
60Electra
A lover weighsMore than a child in any woman's heart.
61Orestes
But what end seeks Aegisthus, by such artOf shame?
62Electra
To make mine unborn children lowAnd weak, even as my husband.
63Orestes
Lest there growFrom thee the avenger?
64Electra
Such his purpose is:For which may I requite him!
65Orestes
And of thisThy virgin life--Aegisthus knows it?
66Electra
Nay,We speak it not. It cometh not his way.
67Orestes
These women hear us. Are they friends to thee?
68Electra
Aye, friends and true. They will keep faithfullyAll words of mine and thine.
69Orestes (trying her)
Thou art well stayedWith friends. And could Orestes give thee aidIn aught, if e'er...
70Electra
Shame on thee! Seest thou not?Is it not time?
71Orestes (catching her excitement)
How time? And if he soughtTo slay, how should he come at his desire?
72Electra
By daring, as they dared who slew his sire!
73Orestes
Wouldst thou dare with him, if he came, thou too,To slay her?
74Electra
Yes; with the same axe that slewMy father!
75Orestes
'Tis thy message? And thy moodUnchanging?
76Electra
Let me shed my mother's blood,And I die happy.
77Orestes
God!... I would that nowOrestes heard thee here.
78Electra
Yet, wottest thou,Though here I saw him, I should know him not.
79Orestes
Surely. Ye both were children, when they wroughtYour parting.
80Electra
One alone in all this landWould know his face.
81Orestes
The thrall, methinks, whose handStole him from death--or so the story ran?
82Electra
He taught my father, too, an old old manOf other days than these.
83Orestes
Thy father's grave...He had due rites and tendance?
84Electra
What chance gave,My father had, cast out to rot in the sun.
85Orestes
God, 'tis too much!... To hear of such things doneEven to a stranger, stings a man.... But speak,Tell of thy life, that I may know, and seekThy brother with a tale that must be heardHowe'er it sicken. If mine eyes be blurred,Remember, 'tis the fool that feels not. Aye,Wisdom is full of pity; and therebyMen pay for too much wisdom with much pain.
86Leader
My heart is moved as this man's. I would fainLearn all thy tale. Here dwelling on the hillsLittle I know of Argos and its ills.
87Electra
If I must speak--and at love's call, God knows,I fear not--I will tell thee all; my woes,My father's woes, and--O, since thou hast stirredThis storm of speech, thou bear him this my word--His woes and shame! Tell of this narrow cloakIn the wind; this grime and reek of toil, that chokeMy breathing; this low roof that bows my headAfter a king's. This raiment ... thread by thread,'Tis I must weave it, or go bare--must bring,Myself, each jar of water from the spring.No holy day for me, no festival,No dance upon the green! From all, from allI am cut off. No portion hath my life'Mid wives of Argos, being no true wife.No portion where the maidens throng to praiseCastor--my Castor, whom in ancient days,Ere he passed from us and men worshipped him,They named my bridegroom!--And she, she!... The grimTroy spoils gleam round her throne, and by each handQueens of the East, my father's prisoners, stand,A cloud of Orient webs and tangling gold.And there upon the floor, the blood, the oldBlack blood, yet crawls and cankers, like a rotIn the stone! And on our father's chariotThe murderer's foot stands glorying, and the redFalse hand uplifts that ancient staff, that ledThe armies of the world!... Aye, tell him howThe grave of Agamemnon, even now,Lacketh the common honour of the dead;A desert barrow, where no tears are shed,No tresses hung, no gift, no myrtle spray.And when the wine is in him, so men say,Our mother's mighty master leaps thereon,Spurning the slab, or pelteth stone on stone,Flouting the lone dead and the twain that live:"Where is thy son Orestes? Doth he giveThy tomb good tendance? Or is all forgot?"So is he scorned because he cometh not....
O Stranger, on my knees, I charge thee, tellThis tale, not mine, but of dumb wrongs that swellCrowding--and I the trumpet of their pain,This tongue, these arms, this bitter burning brain;These dead shorn locks, and he for whom they died!His father slew Troy's thousands in their pride;He hath but one to kill.... O God, but one!Is he a man, and Agamemnon's son?
88Leader
But hold: is this thy husband from the plain,His labour ended, hasting home again?
[Enter the PEASANT.]
89Peasant
Ha, who be these? Strange men in arms beforeMy house! What would they at this lonely door?Seek they for me?--Strange gallants should not stayA woman's goings.
90Electra
Friend and helper!--Nay,Think not of any evil. These men beFriends of Orestes, charged with words for me!...Strangers, forgive his speech.
91Peasant
What word have theyOf him? At least he lives and sees the day!
92Electra
So fares their tale--and sure I doubt it not!
93Peasant
And ye two still are living in his thought,Thou and his father?
94Electra
In his dreams we live.An exile hath small power.
95Peasant
And did he giveSome privy message?
96Electra
None: they come as spiesFor news of me.
97Peasant
Thine outward news their eyesCan see; the rest, methinks, thyself will tell.
98Electra
They have seen all, heard all. I trust them well.
99Peasant
Why were our doors not open long ago?--Be welcome, strangers both, and pass belowMy lintel. In return for your glad wordsBe sure all greeting that mine house affordsIs yours.--Ye followers, bear in their gear!--Gainsay me not; for his sake are ye dearThat sent you to our house; and though my partIn life be low, I am no churl at heart.
[The PEASANT goes to the ARMED SERVANTS at the back, to help them with the baggage.
100Orestes (aside to ELECTRA)
Is this the man that shields thy maidenhoodUnknown, and will not wrong thy father's blood?
101Electra
He is called my husband. 'Tis for him I toil.
102Orestes
How dark lies honour hid! And what turmoilIn all things human: sons of mighty menFallen to naught, and from ill seed againGood fruit: yea, famine in the rich man's scrollWrit deep, and in poor flesh a lordly soul.As, lo, this man, not great in Argos, notWith pride of house uplifted, in a lotOf unmarked life hath shown a prince's grace.[To the PEASANT, who has returned.All that is here of Agamemnon's race,And all that lacketh yet, for whom we come,Do thank thee, and the welcome of thy homeAccept with gladness.--Ho, men; hasten yeWithin!--This open-hearted povertyIs blither to my sense than feasts of gold.
Lady, thine husband's welcome makes me bold;Yet would thou hadst thy brother, before allConfessed, to greet us in a prince's hall!Which may be, even yet. Apollo spakeThe word; and surely, though small store I makeOf man's divining, God will fail us not.
[ORESTES and PYLADES go in, following the SERVANTS.
103Leader
O never was the heart of hope so hotWithin me. How? So moveless in time past,Hath Fortune girded up her loins at last?
104Electra
Now know'st thou not thine own ill furniture,To bid these strangers in, to whom for sureOur best were hardship, men of gentle breed?
105Peasant
Nay, if the men be gentle, as indeedI deem them, they will take good cheer or illWith even kindness.
106Electra
'Twas ill done; but still--Go, since so poor thou art, to that old friendWho reared my father. At the realm's last endHe dwells, where Tanaos river foams betweenArgos and Sparta. Long time hath he beenAn exile 'mid his flocks. Tell him what thingHath chanced on me, and bid him haste and bringMeat for the strangers' tending.--Glad, I trow,That old man's heart will be, and many a vowWill lift to God, to learn the child he stoleFrom death, yet breathes.--I will not ask a doleFrom home; how should my mother help me? Nay,I pity him that seeks that door, to sayOrestes liveth!
107Peasant
Wilt thou have it so?I will take word to the old man. But goQuickly within, and whatso there thou findSet out for them. A woman, if her mindSo turn, can light on many a pleasant thingTo fill her board. And surely plenishingWe have for this one day.--'Tis in such shiftsAs these, I care for riches, to make giftsTo friends, or lead a sick man back to healthWith ease and plenty. Else small aid is wealthFor daily gladness; once a man be doneWith hunger, rich and poor are all as one.
[The PEASANT goes off to the left; ELECTRA goes into the house.
* * * * *
108Chorus
O for the ships of Troy, the beat [Strophe 1.Of oars that shimmeredInnumerable, and dancing feetOf Nereids glimmered;And dolphins, drunken with the lyre,Across the dark blue prows, like fire,Did bound and quiver,To cleave the way for Thetis' son,Fleet-in-the-wind Achilles, onTo war, to war, till Troy be wonBeside the reedy river.
Up from Euboea's caverns came [Antistrophe 1.The Nereids, bearingGold armour from the Lords of Flame,Wrought for his wearing:Long sought those daughters of the deep,Up Pelion's glen, up Ossa's steepForest enchanted,Where Peleus reared alone, afar,His lost sea-maiden's child, the starOf Hellas, and swift help of warWhen weary armies panted.
There came a man from Troy, and told [Strophe 2.Here in the haven,How, orb on orb, to strike with coldThe Trojan, o'er that targe of gold,Dread shapes were graven.All round the level rim thereofPerseus, on wingèd feet, aboveThe long seas hied him;The Gorgon's wild and bleeding hairHe lifted; and a herald fair,He of the wilds, whom Maia bare,God's Hermes, flew beside him.
[Antistrophe 2. But midmost, where the boss rose higher, A sun stood blazing, And wingèd steeds, and stars in choir, Hyad and Pleiad, fire on fire, For Hector's dazing: Across the golden helm, each way, Two taloned Sphinxes held their prey, Song-drawn to slaughter: And round the breastplate ramping came A mingled breed of lion and flame, Hot-eyed to tear that steed of fame That found Pirênê's water.
The red red sword with steeds four-yoked [Epode.Black-maned, was graven,That laboured, and the hot dust smokedCloudwise to heaven.Thou Tyndarid woman! Fair and tallThose warriors were, and o'er them allOne king great-hearted,Whom thou and thy false love did slay:Therefore the tribes of Heaven one dayFor these thy dead shall send on theeAn iron death: yea, men shall seeThe white throat drawn, and blood's red spray,And lips in terror parted.
[As they cease, there enters from the left a very old man, bearing a lamb, a wineskin, and a wallet.
109Old Man
Where is my little Princess? Ah, not now;But still my queen, who tended long agoThe lad that was her father.... How steep-setThese last steps to her porch! But faint not yet:Onward, ye failing knees and back with painBowed, till we look on that dear face again.[Enter ELECTRA.Ah, daughter, is it thou?--Lo, here I am,With gifts from all my store; this suckling lambFresh from the ewe, green crowns for joyfulness,And creamy things new-curdled from the press.And this long-storèd juice of vintagesForgotten, cased in fragrance: scant it is,But passing sweet to mingle nectar-wiseWith feebler wine.--Go, bear them in; mine eyes...Where is my cloak?--They are all blurred with tears.
110Electra
What ails thine eyes, old friend? After these yearsDoth my low plight still stir thy memories?Or think'st thou of Orestes, where he liesIn exile, and my father? Aye, long loveThou gavest him, and seest the fruit thereofWasted, for thee and all who love thee!
111Old Man
AllWasted! And yet 'tis that lost hope withalI cannot brook. But now I turned asideTo see my master's grave. All, far and wide,Was silence; so I bent these knees of mineAnd wept and poured drink-offerings from the wineI bear the strangers, and about the stoneLaid myrtle sprays. And, child, I saw thereonJust at the censer slain, a fleeced ewe,Deep black, in sacrifice: the blood was newAbout it: and a tress of bright brown hairShorn as in mourning, close. Long stood I thereAnd wondered, of all men what man had goneIn mourning to that grave.--My child, 'tis noneIn Argos. Did there come ... Nay, mark me now...Thy brother in the dark, last night, to bowHis head before that unadorèd tomb?O come, and mark the colour of it. ComeAnd lay thine own hair by that mourner's tress!A hundred little things make likenessesIn brethren born, and show the father's blood.
112Electra (trying to mask her excitement and resist the contagion of his)
Old heart, old heart, is this a wise man's mood?...O, not in darkness, not in fear of men,Shall Argos find him, when he comes again,Mine own undaunted ... Nay, and if it were,What likeness could there be? My brother's hairIs as a prince's and a rover's, strongWith sunlight and with strife: not like the longLocks that a woman combs.... And many a headHath this same semblance, wing for wing, tho' bredOf blood not ours.... 'Tis hopeless. Peace, old man.
113Old Man
The footprints! Set thy foot by his, and scanThe track of frame and muscles, how they fit!
114Electra
That ground will take no footprint! All of itIs bitter stone.... It hath?... And who hath saidThere should be likeness in a brother's treadAnd sister's? His is stronger every way.
115Old Man
But hast thou nothing...? If he came this dayAnd sought to show thee, is there no one signWhereby to know him?... Stay; the robe was thine,Work of thy loom, wherein I wrapt him o'erThat night and stole him through the murderers' door.
116Electra
Thou knowest, when Orestes was cast outI was a child.... If I did weave some cloutOf raiment, would he keep the vesture nowHe wore in childhood? Should my weaving growAs his limbs grew?... 'Tis lost long since. No more!O, either 'twas some stranger passed, and shoreHis locks for very ruth before that tomb:Or, if he found perchance, to seek his home,Some spy...
117Old Man
The strangers! Where are they? I fainWould see them, aye, and bid them answer plain...
118Electra
Here at the door! How swift upon the thought!
[Enter ORESTES and PYLADES.]
119Old Man
High-born: albeit for that I trust them not.The highest oft are false.... Howe'er it be,
[Approaching them.
I bid the strangers hail!
120Orestes
All hail to thee,Greybeard!--Prithee, what man of all the KingTrusted of old, is now this broken thing?
121Electra
'Tis he that trained my father's boyhood.
122Orestes
How?And stole from death thy brother? Sayest thou?
123Electra
This man was his deliverer, if it beDeliverance.
124Orestes
How his old eye pierceth me,As one that testeth silver and alloy!Sees he some likeness here?
125Electra
Perchance 'tis joy,To see Orestes' comrade, that he feels.
126Orestes
None dearer.--But what ails the man? He reelsDizzily back.
127Electra
I marvel. I can sayNo more.
128Old Man (in a broken voice)
Electra, mistress, daughter, pray!Pray unto God!
129Electra
Of all the things I crave,The thousand things, or all that others have,What should I pray for?
130Old Man
Pray thine arms may holdAt last this treasure-dream of more than goldGod shows us!
131Electra
God, I pray thee!... Wouldst thou more?
132Old Man
Gaze now upon this man, and bow beforeThy dearest upon earth!
133Electra
I gaze on thee!O, hath time made thee mad?
134Old Man
Mad, that I seeThy brother?
135Electra
My ... I know not what thou say'st:I looked not for it...
136Old Man
I tell thee, here confessedStandeth Orestes, Agamemnon's son!
137Electra
A sign before I trust thee! O, but one!How dost thou know...?
138Old Man
There, by his brow, I seeThe scar he made, that day he ran with theeChasing thy fawn, and fell.
139Electra (in a dull voice)
A scar? 'Tis so.I see a scar.
140Old Man
And fearest still to throwThine arms round him thou lovest?
141Electra
O, no more!Thy sign hath conquered me.... (throwing herself into ORESTES' arms).At last, at last!Thy face like light! And do I hold thee fast,Unhoped for?
142Orestes
Yea, at last! And I hold thee.
143Electra
I never knew...
144Orestes
I dreamed not.
145Electra
Is it he,Orestes?
146Orestes
Thy defender, yea, aloneTo fight the world! Lo, this day have I thrownA net, which once unbroken from the seaDrawn home, shall ... O, and it must surely be!Else men shall know there is no God, no lightIn Heaven, if wrong to the end shall conquer right.
147Chorus
Comest thou, comest thou now,Chained by the years and slow,O Day long sought?A light on the mountains coldIs lit, yea, a fire burneth,'Tis the light of one that turnethFrom roamings manifold,Back out of exile oldTo the house that knew him not.
Some spirit hath turned our way,Victory visible,Walking at thy right hand,Belovèd; O lift this dayThine arms, thy voice, as a spell;And pray for thy brother, pray,Threading the perilous land,That all be well!
148Orestes
Enough; this dear delight is mine at lastOf thine embracing; and the hour comes fastWhen we shall stand again as now we stand,And stint not.--Stay, Old Man: thou, being at handAt the edge of time, advise me, by what wayBest to requite my father's murderers. Say,Have I in Argos any still to trust;Or is the love, once borne me, trod in dust,Even as my fortunes are? Whom shall I seek?By day or night? And whither turn, to wreakMy will on them that hate us? Say.
149Old Man
My son,In thine adversity, there is not oneWill call thee friend. Nay, that were treasure-trove,A friend to share, not faltering from love,Fair days and foul the same. Thy name is goneForth to all Argos, as a thing o'erthrownAnd dead. Thou hast not left one spark to glowWith hope in one friend's heart! Hear all, and know:Thou hast God's fortune and thine own right hand,Naught else, to conquer back thy fatherland.
150Orestes
The deed, the deed! What must we do?
151Old Man
Strike downAegisthus ... and thy mother.
152Orestes
'Tis the crownMy race is run for. But how find him?
153Old Man
NotWithin the city walls, however hotThy spirit.
154Orestes
Ha! With watchers doth he goBegirt, and mailèd pikemen?
155Old Man
Even so:He lives in fear of thee, and night nor dayHath slumber.
156Orestes
That way blocked!--'Tis thine to sayWhat next remains.
157Old Man
I will; and thou give ear.A thought has found me!
158Orestes
All good thoughts be near,For thee to speak and me to understand!
159Old Man
But now I saw Aegisthus, close at handAs here I journeyed.
160Orestes
That good word shall traceMy path for me! Thou saw'st him? In what place?
161Old Man
Out on the pastures where his horses stray.
162Orestes
What did he there so far?--A gleam of dayCrosseth our darkness.
163Old Man
'Twas a feast, methought,Of worship to the wild-wood nymphs he wrought.
164Orestes
The watchers of men's birth? Is there a sonNew born to him, or doth he pray for oneThat cometh? [Movement of ELECTRA.
165Old Man
More I know not; he had thereA wreathed ox, as for some weighty prayer.
166Orestes
What force was with him? Not his serfs alone?
167Old Man
No Argive lord was there; none but his ownHousehold.
168Orestes
Not any that aught know my face,Or guess?
169Old Man
Thralls, thralls; who ne'er have seen thy face.
170Orestes
Once I prevail, the thralls will welcome me!
171Old Man
The slaves' way, that; and no ill thing for thee!
172Orestes
How can I once come near him?
173Old Man
Walk thy waysHard by, where he may see thee, ere he slaysHis sacrifice.
174Orestes
How? Is the road so nigh?
175Old Man
He cannot choose but see thee, passing by,And bid thee stay to share the beast they kill.
176Orestes
A bitter fellow-feaster, if God will!
177Old Man
And then ... then swift be heart and brain, to seeGod's chances!
178Orestes
Aye. Well hast thou counselled me.But ... where is she?
179Old Man
In Argos now, I guess;But goes to join her husband, ere the pressOf the feast.
180Orestes
Why goeth not my mother straightForth at her husband's side?
181Old Man
She fain will waitUntil the gathered country-folk be gone.
182Orestes
Enough! She knows what eyes are turned uponHer passings in the land!
183Old Man
Aye, all men hateThe unholy woman.
184Orestes
How then can I setMy snare for wife and husband in one breath?
185Electra (coming forward)
Hold! It is I must work our mother's death.
186Orestes
If that be done, I think the other deedFortune will guide.
187Electra
This man must help our need,One friend alone for both.
188Old Man
He will, he will!Speak on. What cunning hast thou found to fillThy purpose?
189Electra
Get thee forth, Old Man, and quickTell Clytemnestra ... tell her I lie sick,New-mothered of a man-child.
190Old Man
Thou hast borneA son! But when?
191Electra
Let this be the tenth morn.Till then a mother stays in sanctity,Unseen.
192Old Man
And if I tell her, where shall beThe death in this?
193Electra
That word let her but hear,Straight she will seek me out!
194Old Man
The queen! What careHath she for thee, or pain of thine?
195Electra
She will;And weep my babe's low station!
196Old Man
Thou hast skillTo know her, child; say on.
197Electra
But bring her here,Here to my hand; the rest will come.
198Old Man
I swear,Here at the gate she shall stand palpable!
199Electra
The gate: the gate that leads to me and Hell.
200Old Man
Let me but see it, and I die content.
201Electra
First, then, my brother: see his steps be bent...
202Old Man
Straight yonder, where Aegisthus makes his prayer!
203Electra
Then seek my mother's presence, and declareMy news.
204Old Man
Thy very words, child, as tho' spokeFrom thine own lips!
205Electra
Brother, thine hour is struck.Thou standest in the van of war this day.
206Orestes (rousing himself)
Aye, I am ready.... I will go my way,If but some man will guide me.
207Old Man
Here am I,To speed thee to the end, right thankfully.
208Orestes (turning as he goes and raising his hands to heaven)
Zeus of my sires, Zeus of the lost battle,
209Electra
Have pity; have pity; we have earned it well!
210Old Man
Pity these twain, of thine own body sprung!
211Electra
O Queen o'er Argive altars, Hera high,
212Orestes
Grant us thy strength, if for the right we cry.
213Old Man
Strength to these twain, to right their father's wrong!
214Electra
O Earth, deep Earth, to whom I yearn in vain,
215Orestes
And deeper thou, O father darkly slain,
216Old Man
Thy children call, who love thee: hearken thou!
217Orestes
Girt with thine own dead armies, wake, O wake!
218Electra
With all that died at Ilion for thy sake ...
219Old Man
And hate earth's dark defilers; help us now!
220Electra
Dost hear us yet, O thou in deadly wrong,Wronged by my mother?
221Old Man
Child, we stay too long.He hears; be sure he hears!
222Electra
And while he hears,I speak this word for omen in his ears:"Aegisthus dies, Aegisthus dies."... Ah me,My brother, should it strike not him, but thee,This wrestling with dark death, behold, I tooAm dead that hour. Think of me as one true,Not one that lives. I have a sword made keenFor this, and shall strike deep.I will go inAnd make all ready. If there come from theeGood tidings, all my house for ecstasyShall cry; and if we hear that thou art dead,Then comes the other end!--Lo, I have said.
223Orestes
I know all, all.
224Electra
Then be a man to-day!
[ORESTES and the OLD MAN depart.
O Women, let your voices from this frayFlash me a fiery signal, where I sit,The sword across my knees, expecting it.For never, though they kill me, shall they touchMy living limbs!--I know my way thus much.
[She goes into the house.
* * * * *
225Chorus
When white-haired folk are met [Strophe.In Argos about the fold,A story lingereth yet,A voice of the mountains old,That tells of the Lamb of Gold:A lamb from a mother mild,But the gold of it curled and beat;And Pan, who holdeth the keys of the wild,Bore it to Atreus' feet:His wild reed pipes he blew,And the reeds were filled with peace,And a joy of singing before him flew,Over the fiery fleece:And up on the basèd rock,As a herald cries, cried he:"Gather ye, gather, O Argive folk,The King's Sign to see,The sign of the blest of God,For he that hath this, hath all!"Therefore the dance of praise they trodIn the Atreïd brethren's hall.
They opened before men's eyes [Antistrophe.That which was hid before,The chambers of sacrifice,The dark of the golden door,And fires on the altar floor.And bright was every street,And the voice of the Muses' tree.The carven lotus, was lifted sweet;When afar and suddenly,Strange songs, and a voice that grew:"Come to your king, ye folk!Mine, mine, is the Golden Ewe!"'Twas dark Thyestes spoke.For, lo, when the world was still,With his brother's bride he lay,And won her to work his will,And they stole the Lamb away!Then forth to the folk strode he,And called them about his fold,And showed that Sign of the King to be,The fleece and the horns of gold.
Then, then, the world was changed; [Strophe 2.And the Father, where they ranged,Shook the golden stars and glowing,And the great Sun stood derangedIn the glory of his going.
Lo, from that day forth, the EastBears the sunrise on his breast,And the flaming Day in heavenDown the dim ways of the westDriveth, to be lost at even.
The wet clouds to Northward beat;And Lord Ammon's desert seatCrieth from the South, unslaken,For the dews that once were sweet,For the rain that God hath taken.
'Tis a children's tale, that old [Antistrophe 2.Shepherds on far hills have told;And we reck not of their telling,Deem not that the Sun of goldEver turned his fiery dwelling,
Or beat backward in the sky,For the wrongs of man, the cryOf his ailing tribes assembled,To do justly, ere they die!Once, men told the tale, and trembled;
Fearing God, O Queen: whom thouHast forgotten, till thy browWith old blood is dark and daunted.And thy brethren, even now,Walk among the stars, enchanted.
226Leader
Ha, friends, was that a voice? Or some dream soundOf voices shaketh me, as undergroundGod's thunder shuddering? Hark, again, and clear!It swells upon the wind.--Come forth and hear!Mistress, Electra!
ELECTRA, a bare sword in her hand, comes from the house.
227Electra
Friends! Some news is brought?How hath the battle ended?
228Leader
I know naught.There seemed a cry as of men massacred!
229Electra
I heard it too. Far off, but still I heard.
230Leader
A distant floating voice ... Ah, plainer now!
231Electra
Of Argive anguish!--Brother, is it thou?
232Leader
I know not. Many confused voices cry...
233Electra
Death, then for me! That answer bids me die.
234Leader
Nay, wait! We know not yet thy fortune. Wait!
235Electra
No messenger from him!--Too late, too late!
236Leader
The message yet will come. 'Tis not a thingSo light of compass, to strike down a king.
[Enter a MESSENGER, running.]
237Messenger
Victory, Maids of Argos, Victory!Orestes ... all that love him, list to me!...Hath conquered! Agamemnon's murderer liesDead! O give thanks to God with happy cries!
238Electra
Who art thou? I mistrust thee.... 'Tis a plot!
239Messenger
Thy brother's man. Look well. Dost know me not?
240Electra
Friend, friend; my terror made me not to seeThy visage. Now I know and welcome thee.How sayst thou? He is dead, verily dead,My father's murderer...?
241Messenger
Shall it be saidOnce more? I know again and yet againThy heart would hear. Aegisthus lieth slain!
242Electra
Ye Gods! And thou, O Right, that seest all,Art come at last?... But speak; how did he fall?How swooped the wing of death?... I crave to hear.
243Messenger
Forth of this hut we set our faces clearTo the world, and struck the open chariot road;Then on toward the pasture lands, where stoodThe great Lord of Mycenae. In a setGarden beside a channelled rivulet,Culling a myrtle garland for his brow,He walked: but hailed us as we passed: "How now,Strangers! Who are ye? Of what city sprung,And whither bound?" "Thessalians," answered youngOrestes: "to Alpheüs journeying,With gifts to Olympian Zeus." Whereat the king:"This while, beseech you, tarry, and make fullThe feast upon my hearth. We slay a bullHere to the Nymphs. Set forth at break of dayTo-morrow, and 'twill cost you no delay.But come"--and so he gave his hand, and ledThe two men in--"I must not be gainsaid;Come to the house. Ho, there; set close at handVats of pure water, that the guests may standAt the altar's verge, where falls the holy spray."Then quickly spake Orestes: "By the wayWe cleansed us in a torrent stream. We needNo purifying here. But if indeedStrangers may share thy worship, here are weReady, O King, and swift to follow thee."
So spoke they in the midst. And every thrallLaid down the spears they served the King withal,And hied him to the work. Some bore amainThe death-vat, some the corbs of hallowed grain;Or kindled fire, and round the fire and inSet cauldrons foaming; and a festal dinFilled all the place. Then took thy mother's lordThe ritual grains, and o'er the altar pouredIts due, and prayed: "O Nymphs of Rock and Mere,With many a sacrifice for many a year,May I and she who waits at home for me,My Tyndarid Queen, adore you. May it bePeace with us always, even as now; and allIll to mine enemies"--meaning withalThee and Orestes. Then my master prayedAgainst that prayer, but silently, and saidNo word, to win once more his fatherland.Then in the corb Aegisthus set his hand,Took the straight blade, cut from the proud bull's headA lock, and laid it where the fire was red;Then, while the young men held the bull on high,Slew it with one clean gash; and suddenlyTurned on thy brother: "Stranger, every trueThessalian, so the story goes, can hewA bull's limbs clean, and tame a mountain steed.Take up the steel, and show us if indeedRumour speak true," Right swift Orestes tookThe Dorian blade, back from his shoulders shookHis broochèd mantle, called on PyladesTo aid him, and waved back the thralls. With easeHeelwise he held the bull, and with one glideBared the white limb; then stripped the mighty hideFrom off him, swifter than a runner runsHis furlongs, and laid clean the flank. At onceAegisthus stooped, and lifted up with careThe ominous parts, and gazed. No lobe was there;But lo, strange caves of gall, and, darkly raised,The portal vein boded to him that gazedFell visitations. Dark as night his browClouded. Then spake Orestes: "Why art thouCast down so sudden?" "Guest," he cried, "there beTreasons from whence I know not, seeking me.Of all my foes, 'tis Agamemnon's son;His hate is on my house, like war." "Have done!"Orestes cried: "thou fear'st an exile's plot,Lord of a city? Make thy cold heart hotWith meat.--Ho, fling me a Thessalian steel!This Dorian is too light. I will unsealThe breast of him." He took the heavier blade,And clave the bone. And there Aegisthus stayed,The omens in his hand, dividing slowThis sign from that; till, while his head bent low,Up with a leap thy brother flashed the sword,Then down upon his neck, and cleft the cordOf brain and spine. Shuddering the body stoodOne instant in an agony of blood,And gasped and fell. The henchmen saw, and straightFlew to their spears, a host of them to setAgainst those twain. But there the twain did standUnfaltering, each his iron in his hand,Edge fronting edge. Till "Hold," Orestes calls:"I come not as in wrath against these wallsAnd mine own people. One man righteouslyI have slain, who slew my father. It is I,The wronged Orestes! Hold, and smite me not,Old housefolk of my father!" When they caughtThat name, their lances fell. And one old man,An ancient in the house, drew nigh to scanHis face, and knew him. Then with one accordThey crowned thy brother's temples, and outpouredjoy and loud songs. And hither now he faresTo show the head, no Gorgon, that he bears,But that Aegisthus whom thou hatest! Yea,Blood against blood, his debt is paid this day.
[He goes off to meet the others--ELECTRA stands as though stupefied.
244Chorus
Now, now thou shalt dance in our dances,Beloved, as a fawn in the night!The wind is astir for the glancesOf thy feet; thou art robed with delight.
He hath conquered, he cometh to free usWith garlands new-won,More high than the crowns of Alpheüs,Thine own father's son:Cry, cry, for the day that is won!
245Electra
O Light of the Sun, O chariot wheels of flame,O Earth and Night, dead Night without a nameThat held me! Now mine eyes are raised to see,And all the doorways of my soul flung free.Aegisthus dead! My father's murderer dead!What have I still of wreathing for the headStored in my chambers? Let it come forth nowTo bind my brother's and my conqueror's brow.
[Some garlands are brought out from the house to ELECTRA.
246Chorus
Go, gather thy garlands, and lay themAs a crown on his brow, many-tressed,But our feet shall refrain not nor stay them:'Tis the joy that the Muses have blest.For our king is returned as from prison,The old king, to be master again,Our belovèd in justice re-risen:With guile he hath slain...But cry, cry in joyance again!
[There enter from the left ORESTES and PYLADES, followed by some thralls.
247Electra
O conqueror, come! The king that trampled TroyKnoweth his son Orestes. Come in joy,Brother, and take to bind thy rippling hairMy crowns!.... O what are crowns, that runners wearFor some vain race? But thou in battle trueHast felled our foe Aegisthus, him that slewBy craft thy sire and mine. [She crowns ORESTES.And thou no less,O friend at need, O reared in righteousness,Take, Pylades, this chaplet from my hand.'Twas half thy battle. And may ye two standThus alway, victory-crowned, before my face! [She crowns PYLADES.
248Orestes
Electra, first as workers of this gracePraise thou the Gods, and after, if thou will,Praise also me, as chosen to fulfilGod's work and Fate's.--Aye, 'tis no more a dream;In very deed I come from slaying him.Thou hast the knowledge clear, but lo, I bringMore also. See himself, dead![Attendants bring in the body of AEGISTHUS on a bier.Wouldst thou flingThis lord on the rotting earth for beasts to tear?Or up, where all the vultures of the airMay glut them, pierce and nail him for a signFar off? Work all thy will. Now he is thine.
249Electra
It shames me; yet, God knows, I hunger sore--
250Orestes
What wouldst thou? Speak; the old fear nevermoreNeed touch thee.
251Electra
To let loose upon the deadMy hate! Perchance to rouse on mine own headThe sleeping hate of the world?
252Orestes
No man that livesShall scathe thee by one word.
253Electra
Our city givesQuick blame; and little love have men for me.
254Orestes
If aught thou hast unsaid, sister, be freeAnd speak. Between this man and us no barCometh nor stint, but the utter rage of war.[She goes and stands over the body. A moment's silence.
255Electra
Ah me, what have I? What first flood of hateTo loose upon thee? What last curse to sateMy pain, or river of wild words to flowBank-high between?... Nothing?... And yet I knowThere hath not passed one sun, but through the longCold dawns, over and over, like a song,I have said them--words held back, O, some day yetTo flash into thy face, would but the fretOf ancient fear fall loose and let me free.And free I am, now; and can pay to theeAt last the weary debt.Oh, thou didst killMy soul within. Who wrought thee any ill,That thou shouldst make me fatherless? Aye, meAnd this my brother, loveless, solitary?'Twas thou, didst bend my mother to her shame:Thy weak hand murdered him who led to fameThe hosts of Hellas--thou, that never crossedO'erseas to Troy!... God help thee, wast thou lostIn blindness, long ago, dreaming, some-wise,She would be true with thee, whose sin and liesThyself had tasted in my father's place?And then, that thou wert happy, when thy daysWere all one pain? Thou knewest ceaselesslyHer kiss a thing unclean, and she knew theeA lord so little true, so dearly won!So lost ye both, being in falseness one,What fortune else had granted; she thy curse,Who marred thee as she loved thee, and thou hers...And on thy ways thou heardst men whispering,"Lo, the Queen's husband yonder"--not "the King."And then the lie of lies that dimmed thy brow,Vaunting that by thy gold, thy chattels, ThouWert Something; which themselves are nothingness.Shadows, to clasp a moment ere they cease.The thing thou art, and not the things thou hast,Abideth, yea, and bindeth to the lastThy burden on thee: while all else, ill-wonAnd sin-companioned, like a flower o'erblown,Flies on the wind away.Or didst them findIn women ... Women?... Nay, peace, peace! The blindCould read thee. Cruel wast thou in thine hour,Lord of a great king's house, and like a towerFirm in thy beauty. [Starting back with a look of loathing.Ah, that girl-like face!God grant, not that, not that, but some plain graceOf manhood to the man who brings me love:A father of straight children, that shall moveSwift on the wings of War.
So, get thee gone!Naught knowing how the great years, rolling on,Have laid thee bare, and thy long debt full paid.O vaunt not, if one step be proudly madeIn evil, that all Justice is o'ercast:Vaunt not, ye men of sin, ere at the lastThe thin-drawn marge before you glimmerethClose, and the goal that wheels 'twixt life and death.
256Leader
Justice is mighty. Passing dark hath beenHis sin: and dark the payment of his sin.
257Electra (with a weary sigh, turning from the body)
Ah me! Go some of you, bear him from sight,That when my mother come, her eyes may lightOn nothing, nothing, till she know the sword....[The body is borne into the hut. PYLADES goes with it.
258Orestes (looking along the road)
Stay, 'tis a new thing! We have still a wordTo speak...
259Electra
What? Not a rescue from the townThou seëst?
260Orestes
'Tis my mother comes: my ownMother, that bare me. [He takes off his crown.
ELECTRA (springing, as it were, to life again, and moving where she cansee the road).
Straight into the snare!Aye, there she cometh,--Welcome in thy rareChariot! All welcome in thy brave array!
261Orestes
What would we with our mother? Didst thou sayKill her?
262Electra (turning on him)
What? Is it pity? Dost thou fearTo see thy mother's shape?
263Orestes
'Twas she that bareMy body into life. She gave me suck.How can I strike her?
264Electra
Strike her as she struckOur father!
265Orestes (to himself, brooding)
Phoebus, God, was all thy mindTurned unto darkness?
266Electra
If thy God be blind,Shalt thou have light?
267Orestes (as before)
Thou, thou, didst bid me killMy mother: which is sin.
268Electra
How brings it illTo thee, to raise our father from the dust?
269Orestes
I was a clean man once. Shall I be thrustFrom men's sight, blotted with her blood?
270Electra
Thy blotIs black as death if him thou succour not!
271Orestes
Who shall do judgment on me, when she dies?
272Electra
Who shall do judgment, if thy father lies.Forgotten?
273Orestes (turning suddenly to ELECTRA)
Stay! How if some fiend of Hell,Hid in God's likeness, spake that oracle?
274Electra
In God's own house? I trow not.
275Orestes
And I trowIt was an evil charge! [He moves away from her.
276Electra (almost despairing)
To fail me now!To fail me now! A coward!--O brother, no!
277Orestes
What shall it be, then? The same stealthy blow ...
278Electra
That slew our father! Courage! thou hast slainAegisthus.
279Orestes
Aye. So be it.--I have ta'enA path of many terrors: and shall doDeeds horrible. 'Tis God will have it so....Is this the joy of battle, or wild woe? [He goes into the house.
280Leader
O Queen o'er Argos thronèd high,O Woman, sister of the twain,God's Horsemen, stars without a stain,Whose home is in the deathless sky,Whose glory in the sea's wild pain,Toiling to succour men that die:Long years above us hast thou been,God-like for gold and marvelled power:Ah, well may mortal eyes this hourObserve thy state: All hail, O Queen!
[Enter from the right CLYTEMNESTRA on a chariot, accompanied by richly dressed Handmaidens.]
281Clytemnestra
Down from the wain, ye dames of Troy, and holdMine arm as I dismount.... [Answering ELECTRA'S thought.The spoils and goldOf Ilion I have sent out of my hallTo many shrines. These bondwomen are allI keep in mine own house.... Deemst thou the costToo rich to pay me for the child I lost--Fair though they be?
282Electra
Nay, Mother, here am IBond likewise, yea, and homeless, to hold highThy royal arm!
283Clytemnestra
Child, the war slaves are here;Thou needst not toil.
284Electra
What was it but the spearOf war, drove me forth too? Mine enemiesHave sacked my father's house, and, even as these,Captives and fatherless, made me their prey.
285Clytemnestra
It was thy father cast his child away,A child he might have loved!... Shall I speak out?(Controlling herself) Nay; when a woman once is caught aboutWith evil fame, there riseth in her tongueA bitter spirit--wrong, I know! Yet, wrongOr right, I charge ye look on the deeds done;And if ye needs must hate, when all is known,Hate on! What profits loathing ere ye know?My father gave me to be his. 'Tis so.But was it his to kill me, or to killThe babes I bore? Yet, lo, he tricked my willWith fables of Achilles' love: he boreTo Aulis and the dark ship-clutching shore,He held above the altar-flame, and smote,Cool as one reaping, through the strainèd throat,My white Iphigenia.... Had it beenTo save some falling city, leaguered inWith foemen; to prop up our castle towers,And rescue other children that were ours,Giving one life for many, by God's lawsI had forgiven all! Not so. BecauseHelen was wanton, and her master knewNo curb for her: for that, for that, he slewMy daughter!--Even then, with all my wrong,No wild beast yet was in me. Nay, for long,I never would have killed him. But he came,At last, bringing that damsel, with the flameOf God about her, mad and knowing all:And set her in my room; and in one wallWould hold two queens!--O wild are woman's eyesAnd hot her heart. I say not otherwise.But, being thus wild, if then her master strayTo love far off, and cast his own away,Shall not her will break prison too, and wendSomewhere to win some other for a friend?And then on us the world's curse waxes strongIn righteousness! The lords of all the wrongMust hear no curse!--I slew him. I trod thenThe only road: which led me to the menHe hated. Of the friends of Argos whomDurst I have sought, to aid me to the doomI craved?--Speak if thou wouldst, and fear not me,If yet thou deemst him slain unrighteously.
286Leader
Thy words be just, yet shame their justice brings;A woman true of heart should bear all thingsFrom him she loves. And she who feels it not,I cannot reason of her, nor speak aught.
287Electra
Remember, mother, thy last word of grace,Bidding me speak, and fear not, to thy face.
288Clytemnestra
So said I truly, child, and so say still.
289Electra
Wilt softly hear, and after work me ill?
290Clytemnestra
Not so, not so. I will but pleasure thee.
291Electra
I answer then. And, mother, this shall beMy prayer of opening, where hangs the whole:Would God that He had made thee clean of soul!Helen and thou--O, face and form were fair,Meet for men's praise; but sisters twain ye were,Both things of naught, a stain on Castor's star,And Helen slew her honour, borne afarIn wilful ravishment: but thou didst slayThe highest man of the world. And now wilt say'Twas wrought in justice for thy child laid lowAt Aulis?... Ah, who knows thee as I know?Thou, thou, who long ere aught of ill was doneThy child, when Agamemnon scarce was gone,Sate at the looking-glass, and tress by tressDidst comb the twined gold in loneliness.When any wife, her lord being far away.Toils to be fair, O blot her out that dayAs false within! What would she with a cheekSo bright in strange men's eyes, unless she seekSome treason? None but I, thy child, could soWatch thee in Hellas: none but I could knowThy face of gladness when our enemiesWere strong, and the swift cloud upon thine eyesIf Troy seemed falling, all thy soul keen-setPraying that he might come no more!... And yetIt was so easy to be true. A kingWas thine, not feebler, not in anythingBelow Aegisthus; one whom Hellas choseFor chief beyond all kings. Aye, and God knows,How sweet a name in Greece, after the sinThy sister wrought, lay in thy ways to win.Ill deeds make fair ones shine, and turn theretoMen's eyes.--Enough: but say he wronged thee; slewBy craft thy child:--what wrong had I done, whatThe babe Orestes? Why didst render notBack unto us, the children of the dead,Our father's portion? Must thou heap thy bedWith gold of murdered men, to buy to theeThy strange man's arms? Justice! Why is not heWho cast Orestes out, cast out again?Not slain for me whom doubly he hath slain,In living death, more bitter than of oldMy sister's? Nay, when all the tale is toldOf blood for blood, what murder shall we make,I and Orestes, for our father's sake?
292Clytemnestra
Aye, child; I know thy heart, from long ago.Thou hast alway loved him best. 'Tis oft-time so:One is her father's daughter, and one hotTo bear her mother's part. I blame thee not....Yet think not I am happy, child; nor flownWith pride now, in the deeds my hand hath done....[Seeing ELECTRA unsympathetic, she checks herself.But thou art all untended, comfortlessOf body and wild of raiment; and thy stressOf travail scarce yet ended!... Woe is me!'Tis all as I have willed it. BitterlyI wrought against him, to the last blind deepOf bitterness.... Woe's me!
293Electra
Fair days to weep,When help is not! Or stay: though he lie coldLong since, there lives another of thy foldFar off; there might be pity for thy son?
294Clytemnestra
I dare not!... Yes, I fear him. 'Tis mine ownLife, and not his, comes first. And rumour saithHis heart yet burneth for his father's death.
295Electra
Why dost thou keep thine husband ever hotAgainst me?
296Clytemnestra
'Tis his mood. And thou art notSo gentle, child!
297Electra
My spirit is too sore!Howbeit, from this day I will no moreHate him.
298Clytemnestra (with a flash of hope)
O daughter!--Then, indeed, shall he,I promise, never more be harsh to thee!
299Electra
He lieth in my house, as 'twere his own.'Tis that hath made him proud.
300Clytemnestra
Nay, art thou flownTo strife again so quick, child?
301Electra
Well; I sayNo more; long have I feared him, and alwayShall fear him, even as now!
302Clytemnestra
Nay, daughter, peace!It bringeth little profit, speech like this...Why didst thou call me hither?
303Electra
It reached thee,My word that a man-child is born to me?Do thou make offering for me--for the riteI know not--as is meet on the tenth night.I cannot; I have borne no child till now.
304Clytemnestra
Who tended thee? 'Tis she should make the vow.
305Electra
None tended me. Alone I bare my child.
CLYTEMNESTRA
What, is thy cot so friendless? And this wildSo far from aid?
306Electra
Who seeks for friendship sakeA beggar's house?
307Clytemnestra
I will go in, and makeDue worship for thy child, the Peace-bringer.To all thy need I would be minister.Then to my lord, where by the meadow sideHe prays the woodland nymphs.Ye handmaids, guideMy chariot to the stall, and when ye guessThe rite draws near its end, in readinessBe here again. Then to my lord!... I oweMy lord this gladness, too.
[The Attendants depart; CLYTEMNESTRA, left alone, proceeds to enter the house.
308Electra
Welcome belowMy narrow roof! But have a care withal,A grime of smoke lies deep upon the wall.Soil not thy robe!...Not far now shall it be,The sacrifice God asks of me and thee.The bread of Death is broken, and the knifeLifted again that drank the Wild Bull's life:And on his breast.... Ha, Mother, hast slept wellAforetime? Thou shalt lie with him in Hell.That grace I give to cheer thee on thy road;Give thou to me--peace from my father's blood![She follows her mother into the house.
309Chorus
Lo, the returns of wrong.The wind as a changèd thingWhispereth overheadOf one that of old lay deadIn the water lapping long:My King, O my King!
A cry in the rafters thenRang, and the marble dome:"Mercy of God, not thou,"Woman! To slay me now,"After the harvests ten"Now, at the last, come home!"
O Fate shall turn as the tide,Turn, with a doom of tearsFor the flying heart too fond;A doom for the broken bond.She hailed him there in his pride,Home from the perilous years,
In the heart of his wallèd lands,In the Giants' cloud-capt ring;Herself, none other, laidThe hone to the axe's blade;She lifted it in her hands,The woman, and slew her king.
Woe upon spouse and spouse,Whatso of evil swayHeld her in that distress!Even as a lionessBreaketh the woodland boughsStarving, she wrought her way.
310Voice Of Clytemnestra
O Children, Children; in the name of God,Slay not your mother!
311A Woman
Did ye hear a cryUnder the rafters?
312Another
I weep too, yea, I;Down on the mother's heart the child hath trod![A death-cry from within.
313Another
God bringeth Justice in his own slow tide.Aye, cruel is thy doom; but thy deeds doneEvil, thou piteous woman, and on oneWhose sleep was by thy side!
[The door bursts open, and ORESTES and ELECTRA come forth in disorder. Attendants bring out the bodies of CLYTEMNESTRA and
314Leader
Lo, yonder, in their mother's new-spilt goreRed-garmented and ghastly, from the doorThey reel.... O horrible! Was it agonyLike this, she boded in her last wild cry?There lives no seed of man calamitous,Nor hath lived, like this seed of Tantalus.
315Orestes
O Dark of the Earth, O God,Thou to whom all is plain;Look on my sin, my blood,This horror of dead things twain;Gathered as one they lieSlain; and the slayer was I,I, to pay for my pain!
316Electra
Let tear rain upon tear,Brother: but mine is the blame.A fire stood over her,And out of the fire I came,I, in my misery....And I was the child at her knee.'Mother' I named her name.
317Chorus
Alas for Fate, for the Fate of thee,O Mother, Mother of Misery:And Misery, lo, hath turned again,To slay thee, Misery and more,Even in the fruit thy body bore.Yet hast thou Justice, Justice plain,For a sire's blood spilt of yore!
318Orestes
Apollo, alas for the hymnThou sangest, as hope in mine ear!The Song was of Justice dim,But the Deed is anguish clear;And the Gift, long nights of fear,Of blood and of wandering,Where cometh no Greek thing,Nor sight, nor sound on the air.Yea, and beyond, beyond,Roaming--what rest is there?Who shall break bread with me?Who, that is clean, shall seeAnd hate not the blood-red hand,His mother's murderer?
319Electra
And I? What clime shall holdMy evil, or roof it above?I cried for dancing of old,I cried in my heart for love:What dancing waiteth me now?What love that shall kiss my browNor blench at the brand thereof?
320Chorus
Back, back, in the wind and rainThy driven spirit wheeleth again.Now is thine heart made clean withinThat was dark of old and murder-fraught.But, lo, thy brother; what hast thou wrought....Yea, though I love thee.... what woe, what sin,On him, who willed it not!
321Orestes
Saw'st thou her raiment there,Sister, there in the blood?She drew it back as she stood,She opened her bosom bare,She bent her knees to the earth,The knees that bent in my birth....And I ... Oh, her hair, her hair....[He breaks into inarticulate weeping
322Chorus
Oh, thou didst walk in agony,Hearing thy mother's cry, the cryOf wordless wailing, well know I.
323Electra
She stretched her hand to my cheek,And there brake from her lips a moan;'Mercy, my child, my own!'Her hand clung to my cheek;Clung, and my arm was weak;And the sword fell and was gone.
324Chorus
Unhappy woman, could thine eyeLook on the blood, and see her lie,Thy mother, where she turned to die?
325Orestes
I lifted over mine eyesMy mantle: blinded I smote,As one smiteth a sacrifice;And the sword found her throat.
326Electra
I gave thee the sign and the word;I touched with mine hand thy sword.
327Leader
Dire is the grief ye have wrought.
328Orestes
Sister, touch her again:Oh, veil the body of her;Shed on her raiment fair,And close that death-red stain.--Mother! And didst thou bear,Bear in thy bitter pain,To life, thy murderer?
[The two kneel over the body of CLYTEMNESTRA, and cover her with raiment.
329Electra
On her that I loved of yore,Robe upon robe I cast:On her that I hated sore.
330Chorus
O House that hath hated sore,Behold thy peace at the last!
* * * * *
331Leader
Ha, see: above the roof-tree highThere shineth ... Is some spirit thereOf earth or heaven? That thin airWas never trod by things that die!What bodes it now that forth they fare,To men revealèd visibly?
[There appears in the air a vision of CASTOR and POLYDEUCES. The mortals kneel or veil their faces.
332Castor
Thou Agamemnon's Son, give ear! 'Tis we.Castor and Polydeuces, call to thee,God's Horsemen and thy mother's brethren twain.An Argive ship, spent with the toiling main,We bore but now to peace, and, here withalBeing come, have seen thy mother's bloody fall,Our sister's. Righteous is her doom this day,But not thy deed. And Phoebus, Phoebus ... Nay;He is my lord; therefore I hold my peace.Yet though in light he dwell, no light was thisHe showed to thee, but darkness! Which do thouEndure, as man must, chafing not. And nowFare forth where Zeus and Fate have laid thy life.The maid Electra thou shalt give for wifeTo Pylades; then turn thy head and fleeFrom Argos' land. 'Tis never more for theeTo tread this earth where thy dead mother lies.And, lo, in the air her Spirits, bloodhound eyes,Most horrible yet Godlike, hard at heelFollowing shall scourge thee as a burning wheel,Speed-maddened. Seek thou straight Athena's land,And round her awful image clasp thine hand,Praying: and she will fence them back, though hotWith flickering serpents, that they touch thee not,Holding above thy brow her gorgon shield.There is a hill in Athens, Ares' field,Where first for that first death by Ares doneOn Halirrhothius, Poseidon's son,Who wronged his daughter, the great Gods of yoreHeld judgment: and true judgments evermoreFlow from that Hill, trusted of man and God.There shalt thou stand arraignèd of this blood;And of those judges half shall lay on theeDeath, and half pardon; so shalt thou go free.For Phoebus in that hour, who bade thee shedThy mother's blood, shall take on his own headThe stain thereof. And ever from that strifeThe law shall hold, that when, for death or lifeOf one pursued, men's voices equal stand,Then Mercy conquereth.--But for thee, the bandOf Spirits dread, down, down, in very wrath,Shall sink beside that Hill, making their pathThrough a dim chasm, the which shall aye be trodBy reverent feet, where men may speak with God.But thou forgotten and far off shalt dwell,By great Alpheüs' waters, in a dellOf Arcady, where that gray Wolf-God's wallStands holy. And thy dwelling men shall callOrestes Town. So much to thee be spoke.But this dead man, Aegisthus, all the folkShall bear to burial in a high green graveOf Argos. For thy mother, she shall haveHer tomb from Menelaus, who hath comeThis day, at last, to Argos, bearing homeHelen. From Egypt comes she, and the hallOf Proteus, and in Troy hath ne'er at allSet foot. 'Twas but a wraith of Helen, sentBy Zeus, to make much wrath and ravishment.So forth for home, bearing the virgin bride,Let Pylades make speed, and lead besideThy once-named brother, and with golden storeStablish his house far off on Phocis' shore.Up, gird thee now to the steep Isthmian way,Seeking Athena's blessèd rock; one day,Thy doom of blood fulfilled and this long stressOf penance past, thou shalt have happiness.
333Leader (looking up)
Is it for us, O Seed of Zeus,To speak and hear your words again!CASTOR. Speak: of this blood ye bear no stain.ELECTRA. I also, sons of Tyndareus,
My kinsmen; may my word be said?CASTOR. Speak: on Apollo's head we layThe bloody doings of this day.LEADER. Ye Gods, ye brethren of the dead,
Why held ye not the deathly herdOf Kêres back from off this home?CASTOR. There came but that which needs must comeBy ancient Fate and that dark word
That rang from Phoebus in his mood.ELECTRA. And what should Phoebus seek with me,Or all God's oracles that be,That I must bear my mother's blood?
CASTOR. Thy hand was as thy brother's hand,Thy doom shall be as his. One stain,From dim forefathers on the twainLighting, hath sapped your hearts as sand.
334Orestes (who has never raised his head, nor spoken to the Gods)
After so long, sister, to seeAnd hold thee, and then part, then part,By all that chained thee to my heartForsaken, and forsaking thee!
CASTOR. Husband and house are hers. She bearsNo bitter judgment, save to goExiled from Argos.ELECTRA. And what woe,What tears are like an exile's tears?
ORESTES. Exiled and more am I; impure,A murderer in a stranger's hand:CASTOR. Fear not. There dwells in Pallas' landAll holiness. Till then endure![ORESTES and ELECTRA embrace
ORESTES. Aye, closer; clasp my body well,And let thy sorrow loose, and shed,As o'er the grave of one new dead,Dead evermore, thy last farewell! [A sound of weeping.
CASTOR. Alas, what would ye? For that cryOurselves and all the sons of heavenHave pity. Yea, our peace is rivenBy the strange pain of these that die.
ORESTES. No more to see thee! ELECTRA. Nor thy breathBe near my face! ORESTES. Ah, so it ends.ELECTRA. Farewell, dear Argos. All ye friends,Farewell! ORESTES. O faithful unto death,
Thou goest? ELECTRA. Aye, I pass from you,Soft-eyed at last. ORESTES. Go, Pylades,And God go with you! Wed in peaceMy tall Electra, and be true.[ELECTRA and PYLADES depart to the left.
335Castor
Their troth shall fill their hearts.--But on:Dread feet are near thee, hounds of prey,Snake-handed, midnight-visaged, yea,And bitter pains their fruit! Begone![ORESTES departs to the right.
But hark, the far Sicilian seaCalls, and a noise of men and shipsThat labour sunken to the lipsIn bitter billows; forth go we,
Through the long leagues of fiery blue,With saving; not to souls unshriven;But whoso in his life hath strivenTo love things holy and be true,
Through toil and storm we guard him; weSave, and he shall not die!--Therefore,O praise the lying man no more,Nor with oath-breakers sail the sea:Farewell, ye walkers on the shoreOf death! A God hath counselled ye.[CASTOR and POLYDEUCES disappear.
336Chorus
Farewell, farewell!--But he who can so fare,And stumbleth not on mischief anywhere,Blessed on earth is he!