Kas.Thou, indeed, prayest: they to kill are busy!Cho.Of what man is it ministered, this sorrow?Kas.There again, wide thou look'st of my foretellings.Cho.For, the fulfiller's scheme I have not gone with.Kas.And yet too well I know the speech Hellenic.Cho.For Puthian oracles, thy speech, and hard too!Kas.Papai: what fire this! and it comes upon me!Ototoi, Lukeion Apollon, ah me—me!She, the two-footed lioness that sleeps withThe wolf, in absence of the generous lion,Kills me the unhappy one: and as a poisonBrewing, to put my price too in the anger,She vows, against her mate this weapon whettingTo pay him back the bringing me, with slaughter.Why keep I then these things to make me laughed at,Both wands and, round my neck, oracular fillets?Thee, at least, ere my own fate will I ruin:Go, to perdition falling! Boons exchange we—Some other Até in my stead make wealthy!See there—himself, Apollon stripping from meThe oracular garment! having looked upon me—Even in these adornments, laughed by friends at,As good as foes, i' the balance weighed: and vainly—For, called crazed stroller,—as I had been gypsy,Beggar, unhappy, starved to death,—I bore it.And now the Prophet—prophet me undoing,Has led away to these so deadly fortunes!Instead of my sire's altar, waits the hack-blockShe struck with first warm bloody sacrificing!Yet nowise unavenged of gods will death be:For there shall come another, our avenger,The mother-slaying scion, father's doomsman:Fugitive, wanderer, from this land an exile,Back shall he come,—for friends, copestone these curses!For there is sworn a great oath from the gods thatHim shall bring hither his fallen sire's prostration.Why make I then, like an indweller, moaning?Since at the first I foresaw Ilion's citySuffering as it has suffered: and who took it,Thus by the judgment of the gods are faring.I go, will suffer, will submit to dying!But, Haides' gates—these same I call, I speak to,And pray that on an opportune blow chancing,Without a struggle,—blood the calm death bringingIn easy outflow,—I this eye may close up!Cho.O much unhappy, but, again, much learnedWoman, long hast thou outstretched! But if trulyThou knowest thine own fate, how comes that, like toA god-led steer, to altar bold thou treadest?Kas.There 's no avoidance,—strangers, no! Some time more!Cho.. He last is, anyhow, by time advantaged.Kas.It comes, the day: I shall by flight gain little.Cho.But know thou patient art from thy brave spirit!Kas.Such things hears no one of the happy-fortuned.Cho.But gloriously to die—for man is grace, sure!Kas.Ah, sire, for thee and for thy noble children!Cho.But what thing is it? What fear turns thee backwards?Kas.Alas, alas!Cho.Why this "alas"? if 't is no spirit's loathing ...Kas.Slaughter blood-dripping does the household smell of!Cho.How else? This scent is of hearth-sacrifices.Kas.Such kind of steam as from a tomb is proper!Cho.No Surian honor to the House thou speak'st of!Kas.But I will go,—even in the household wailingMy fate and Agamemnon's. Life suffice me!Ah, strangers!I cry not "ah"—as bird at bush—through terrorIdly! to me, the dead thus much bear witness:When, for me—woman, there shall die a woman,And, for a man ill-wived, a man shall perish!This hospitality I ask as dying.Cho.O sufferer, thee—thy foretold fate I pity.Kas.Yet once for all, to speak a speech, I fain am:No dirge, mine for myself! The sun I pray to,Fronting his last light!—to my own avengers—That from my hateful slayers they exact tooPay for the dead slave—easy-managed hand's work!Cho.Alas for mortal matters! Happy-fortuned,—Why, any shade would turn them: if unhappy,By throws the wetting sponge has spoiled the picture!And more by much in mortals this I pity.The being well-to-do—Insatiate a desire of thisBorn with all mortals is,Nor any is there whoWell-being forces off, arointsFrom roofs whereat a finger points,"No more come in!" exclaiming. This man, too,To take the city of Priamos did the celestials give,And, honored by the god, he homeward comes;But now if, of the former, he shall payThe blood back, and, for those who ceased to live,Dying, for deaths in turn new punishment he dooms—Who, being mortal, would not prayWith an unmischievousDaimon to have been born—-who would not, hearing thus?Aga.Ah me! I am struck—a right-aimed stroke within me!Cho.Silence! Who is it shouts "stroke"—"right-aimedly," a wounded one?Aga.Ah me! indeed again,—a second, struck by!Cho.This work seems to me completed by this "Ah me" of the king's;But we somehow may together share in solid counsellings.Cho. 1.I, in the first place, my opinion tell you:—To cite the townsmen, by help-cry, to house here.Cho. 2.To me, it seems we ought to fall upon themAt quickest—prove the fact by sword fresh-flowing!Cho. 3.And I, of such opinion the partaker,Vote—to do something: not to wait—the main point!Cho. 4.'T is plain to see: for they prelude as though ofA tyranny the signs they gave the city.Cho. 5.For we waste time; while they,—this waiting's gloryTreading to ground,—allow the hand no slumber.Cho. 6.I know not—chancing on some plan —to tell it:'T is for the doer to plan of the deed also.Cho. 7.And I am such another: since I 'm schemelessHow to raise up again by words—a dead man!Cho. 8.What, and, protracting life, shall we give way thusTo the disgracers of our home, these rulers?Cho. 9.Why, 't is unbearable: but to die is better:For death than tyranny is the riper finish!Cho. 10.What, by the testifying "Ah me" of him,Shall we prognosticate the man as perished?Cho. 11.We must quite know ere speak these things concerning:For to conjecture and "quite know" are two things.Cho. 12.This same to praise I from all sides abound in—Clearly to know, Atreides, what he 's doing!Klu.Much having been before to purpose spoken,The opposite to say I shall not shamed be:For how should one, to enemies,—in semblance,Friends,—enmity proposing,—sorrow's net-frameEnclose, a height superior to outleaping?To me, indeed, this struggle of old—not mindlessOf an old victory—came: with time, I grant you!I stand where I have struck, things once accomplished:And so have done,—and this deny I shall not,—As that his fate was nor to fly nor ward off.A wrap-round with no outlet, as for fishes,I fence about him—the rich woe of the garment:I strike him twice, and in a double "Ah-me!"He let his limbs go—there!And to him, fallen,The third blow add I, giving—of Below-groundZeus, guardian of the dead—the votive favorThus in the mind of him he rages, falling,And blowing forth a brisk blood-spatter, strikes meWith the dark drop of slaughterous dew,—rejoicingNo less than, at the god-given dewy-comfort,The sown-stuff in its birth-throes from the calyx.Since so these things are,—Argives, my revered here,—Ye may rejoice—if ye rejoice: but I—boast!If it were fit on corpse to pour libation,That would be right—right over and above, too!The cup of evils in the house he, havingFilled with such curses, himself coming drinks of.Cho.We wonder at thy tongue: since bold-mouthed trulyIs she who in such speech boasts o'er her husband!Klu.Ye test me as I were a witless woman:But I—with heart intrepid—to you knowersSay (and thou—if thou wilt or praise or blame me,Comes to the same)—this man is Agamemnon,My husband, dead, the work of the right hand here,Ay, of a just artificer: so things are.Cho.What evil, O woman, food or drink, earth-bredOr sent from the flowing sea,Of such having feeDidst thou set on theeThis sacrificeAnd popular criesOf a curse on thy head?Off thou hast thrown him, off hast cutThe man from the city: butOff from the city thyself shalt beCut—to the citizensA hate immense!Klu.Now, indeed, thou adjudgest exile to me,And citizens' hate, and to have popular curses:Nothing of this against the man here bringing,Who, no more awe-checked than as 't were a beast's fate,—With sheep abundant in the well-fleeced graze-flocks,—Sacrificedhischild,—dearest fruit of travailTo me,—as song-spell against Threkian blowings.Nothimdid it behoove thee hence to banish—Pollution's penalty? But hearingmydeedsJusticer rough thou art! Now, this I tell thee:To threaten thus—me, one prepared to have thee(On like conditions, thy hand conquering) o'er meRule: but if God the opposite ordain us,Thou shalt learn—late taught, certes—to be modest.Cho.Greatly-intending thou art:Much-mindful, too, hast thou cried(Since thy mind, with its slaughter-outpouring part,Is frantic) that over the eyes, a patchOf blood—with blood to matchIs plain for a pride!Yet still, bereft of friends, thy fateIs—blow with blow to expiate!Klu.And this thou hearest—of my oaths, just warrant!By who fulfilled things for my daughter, Justice,Até, Erinus,—by whose help I slew him,—Not mine the fancy—Fear will tread my palaceSo long as on my hearth there burns a fire,Aigisthos as before well-caring for me;Since he to me is shield, no small, of boldness.Here does he lie—outrager of this female,Dainty of all the Chruseids under Ilion;And she—the captive, the soothsayer alsoAnd couchmate of this man, oracle-speaker,Faithful bedfellow,—ay, the sailors' benchesThey wore in common, nor unpunished did so,Since he is—thus! While, as for her,—swan-fashion,Her latest having chanted,—dying wailingShe lies,—to him, a sweetheart: me she brought toMy bed's by-nicety, the whet of dalliance.Cho.Alas, that someFate would comeUpon us in quickness—Neither much sicknessNeither bed-keeping—And bear unended sleeping,Now that subduedIs our keeper, the kindest of mood!Having borne, for a woman's sake, much strife—By a woman he withered from life!Ah me!Law-breaking Helena who, one,Hast many, so many souls undone'Neath Troia! and now the consummatedMuch-memorable curseHast thou made flower-forth, redWith the blood no rains disperse,That which was then in the House—Strife all-subduing, the woe of a spouse.Klu.Nowise, of death the fate—Burdened by these things—supplicate!Nor on Helena turn thy wrathAs the man-destroyer, as "she who hath,Being but one,Many and many a soul undoneOf the men, the Danaoi"—And wrought immense annoy!Cho.Daimon, who fallestUpon this household and the double-racedTantalidai, a rule, minded like theirs displaced,Thou rulest me with, now,Whose heart thou gallest!And on the body, like a hateful crow,Stationed, all out of tune, his chant to chantDoth Something vaunt!Klu.Now, of a truth, hast thou set uprightThy mouth's opinion,—Naming the Sprite,The triply-gross,O'er the race that has dominion:For through him it is that ErosThe carnage-lickerIn the belly is bred: ere ended quiteIs the elder throe—new ichor!Cho.Certainly, great of mightAnd heavy of wrath, the SpriteThou tellest of, in the palace(Woe, woe!)—An evil tale of a fateBy Até's maliceRendered insatiate!Oh, oh,—King, king, how shall I beweep thee?From friendly soul what ever say?Thou liest where webs of the spider o'ersweep theeIn impious death, life breathing away.O me—me!This couch, not free!By a slavish death subdued thou art,From the hand, by the two-edged dart.Klu.Thou boastest this deed to be mine:But leave off styling me"The Agamemnonian wife!"For, showing himself in signOf the spouse of the corpse thou dost see,Did the ancient bitter avenging-ghostOf Atreus, savage host,Pay the man here as price—A full-grown for the young one's sacrifice.Cho.That no cause, indeed, of this killing art thou,Who shall be witness-bearer?How shall he bear it—how?But the sire's avenging-ghost might be in the deed a sharer.He is forced on and onBy the kin-born flowing of blood,—Black Ares: to where, having gone,He shall leave off, flowing done,At the frozen-child's-flesh food.King, king, how shall I beweep thee!From friendly soul what ever say?Thou liest where webs of the spider o'ersweep thee,In impious death, life breathing away.Oh, me—me!This couch not free!By a slavish death subdued thou art,From the hand, by the two-edged dart.Klu.No death "unfit for the free"Do I think this man's to be:For did not himself a slavish curseTo his household decree?But the scion of him, myself did nurse—That much-bewailed Iphigeneia, heHaving done well by,—and as well, nor worse,Been done to,—let him not in Haides loudlyBear himself proudly!Being by sword-destroying death amercedFor that sword's punishment himself inflicted first.Cho.I at a loss am left—Of a feasible scheme of mind bereft—Where I may turn: for the house is falling:I fear the bloody crash of the rainThat ruins the roof as it bursts amain:The warning-dropHas come to a stop.Destiny doth Justice whetFor other deed of hurt, on other whetstones yet.Woe, earth, earth—would thou hadst takenmeEre I saw the man I see,On the pallet-bedOf the silver-sided bath-vase, dead'Who is it shall bury him, whoSing his dirge? Can it be trueThatthouwilt dare this same to do—-Having slain thy husband, thine own,To make his funeral moan:And for the soul of him, in placeOf his mighty deeds, a graceless graceTo wickedly institute? By whomShall the tale of praise o'er the tombAt the god-like man be sent—From the truth of his mind as he toils intent?Klu.It belongs not to thee to declareThis object of care!By us did he fall—down there!Did he die—down there! and down, no less,We will bury him there, and not beneathThe wails of the household over his death:But Iphigeneia,—with kindliness,—His daughter,—as the case requires,Facing him full, at the rapid-flowingPassage of Groans shall—both hands throwingAround him—kiss that kindest of sires!Cho.This blame comes in the place of blame:Hard battle it is to judge each claim."He is borne away who bears away:And the killer has all to pay."And this remains while Zeus is remaining,"The doer shall suffer in time"—for, such his ordaining.Who may cast out of the House its cursed brood?The race is to Até glued!Klu.Thou hast gone into this oracleWith a true result. For me, then,—I will—To the Daimon of the PleisthenidaiMaking an oath—with all these things complyHard as they are to bear. For the rest—Going from out this House, a guest,May he wear some other familyTo naught, with the deaths of kin by kin!And—keeping a little part of my goods—Wholly am I contented inHaving expelled from the royal HouseThese frenzied moodsThe mutually-murderous.Aigisthos.O light propitious of day justice-bringing!I may say truly, now, that men's avengers,The gods from high, of earth behold the sorrows—Seeing, as I have, i' the spun robes of the Erinues,This man here lying,—sight to me how pleasant!—His father's hands' contrivances repaying.For Atreus, this land's lord, of this man father,Thuestes, my own father—to speak clearly—His brother too,—being i' the rule contested,—Drove forth to exile from both town and household:And, coming back, to the hearth turned, a suppliant,Wretched Thuestes found the fate assured him—Not to die, bloodying his paternal thresholdJust there: but host-wise this man's impious fatherAtreus, soul-keenly more than kindly,—seemingTo joyous hold a flesh-day,—to my fatherServed up a meal, the flesh of his own children.The feet indeed and the hands' top divisionsHe hid, high up and isolated sitting:But, their unshowing parts in ignorance taking,He forthwith eats food—as thou seest—perditionTo the race: and then, 'ware of the deed ill-omened,He shrieked O!—falls back, vomiting, from the carnage,And fate on the Pelopidai past hearingHe prays down—putting in his curse togetherThe kicking down o' the feast—that so might perishThe race of Pleisthenes entire: and thence isThat it is given thee to see this man prostrate.And I was rightly of this slaughter stitch-man:Since me,—being third from ten,—with my poor fatherHe drives out—being then a babe in swathe-bands:But, grown up, back again has justice brought me:And of this man I got hold—being without-doors—Fitting together the whole scheme of ill-will.So, sweet, in fine, even to die were to me,Seeing as I have, this man i' the toils of justice!Cho.Aigisthos, arrogance in ills I love not.Dost thou say—willing, thou didst kill the man here,And, alone, plot this lamentable slaughter?I say—thy head in justice will escape notThe people's throwing—know that!—stones and curses!Aig.Thou such things soundest—seated at the lowerOarage to those who rule at the ship's mid-bench?Thou shalt know, being old, how heavy is teachingTo one of the like age—bidden be modest!But chains and old age and the pangs of fastingStand out before all else in teaching,—prophetsAt souls'-cure! Dost not, seeing aught, see this too?Against goads kick not, lest tript-up thou suffer!Cho.Woman, thou,—of him coming new from battleHouseguard—thy husband's bed the while disgracing,—For the Army-leader didst thou plan this fate too?Aig.These words too are of groans the prime-begetters!Truly a tongue opposed to Orpheus hast thou:For he led all things by his voice's grace-charm,But thou, upstirring them by these wild yelpings,Wilt lead them! Forced, thou wilt appear the tamer!Cho.So—thou shalt be my king then of the Argeians—Who, not when for this man his fate thou plannedst,Daredst to do this deed—thyself the slayer!Aig.For, to deceive him was the wife's part, certes:Iwas looked after—foe, ay, old-begotten!But out of this man's wealth will I endeavorTo rule the citizens: and the no-man-minder—Him will I heavily yoke—by no means trace-horse,A corned-up colt! but that bad friend in darkness,Famine its housemate, shall behold him gentle.Cho.Why then, this man here, from a coward spirit,Didst not thou slay thyself? But,—helped,—a woman,The country's pest, and that of gods o' the country,Killed him! Orestes, where may he see light now?That coming hither back, with gracious fortune,Of both these he may be the all-conquering slayer?Aig.But since this to do thou thinkest—and not talk—thou soon shalt know!Up then, comrades dear! the proper thing to do—not distant this!Cho.Up then! hilt in hold, his sword let every one aright dispose!Aig.Ay, but I myself too, hilt in hold, do not refuse to die!Cho.Thou wilt die, thou say'st, to who accept it. We the chance demand!Klu.Nowise, O belovedest of men, may we do other ills!To have reaped away these, even, is a harvest much to me!Go, both thou and these the old men, to the homes appointed each,Ere ye suffer! It behooved one do these things just as we did:And if of these troubles, there should be enough—we may assent—By the Daimon's heavy heel unfortunately stricken ones!So a woman's counsel hath it—if one judge it learning-worth.Aig.But to think that these at me the idle tongue should thus o'erbloom,And throw out such words—the Daimon's power experimenting on—And, of modest knowledge missing,—me, the ruler,...Cho.Ne'er may this befall Argeians—wicked man to fawn before!Aig.Anyhow, in after-days, will I, yes, I, be at thee yet!Cho.Not if hither should the Daimon make Orestes straightway come!Aig.Oh, I know, myself, that fugitives on hopes are pasture-fed!Cho.Do thy deed, get fat, defiling justice, since the power is thine!Aig.Know that thou shalt give me satisfaction for this folly's sake!Cho.Boast on, bearing thee audacious, like a cock his females by!Klu.Have not thou respect for these same idle yelpings! I and thouWill arrange it, o'er this household ruling excellently well.
Kas.Thou, indeed, prayest: they to kill are busy!Cho.Of what man is it ministered, this sorrow?Kas.There again, wide thou look'st of my foretellings.Cho.For, the fulfiller's scheme I have not gone with.Kas.And yet too well I know the speech Hellenic.Cho.For Puthian oracles, thy speech, and hard too!Kas.Papai: what fire this! and it comes upon me!Ototoi, Lukeion Apollon, ah me—me!She, the two-footed lioness that sleeps withThe wolf, in absence of the generous lion,Kills me the unhappy one: and as a poisonBrewing, to put my price too in the anger,She vows, against her mate this weapon whettingTo pay him back the bringing me, with slaughter.Why keep I then these things to make me laughed at,Both wands and, round my neck, oracular fillets?Thee, at least, ere my own fate will I ruin:Go, to perdition falling! Boons exchange we—Some other Até in my stead make wealthy!See there—himself, Apollon stripping from meThe oracular garment! having looked upon me—Even in these adornments, laughed by friends at,As good as foes, i' the balance weighed: and vainly—For, called crazed stroller,—as I had been gypsy,Beggar, unhappy, starved to death,—I bore it.And now the Prophet—prophet me undoing,Has led away to these so deadly fortunes!Instead of my sire's altar, waits the hack-blockShe struck with first warm bloody sacrificing!Yet nowise unavenged of gods will death be:For there shall come another, our avenger,The mother-slaying scion, father's doomsman:Fugitive, wanderer, from this land an exile,Back shall he come,—for friends, copestone these curses!For there is sworn a great oath from the gods thatHim shall bring hither his fallen sire's prostration.Why make I then, like an indweller, moaning?Since at the first I foresaw Ilion's citySuffering as it has suffered: and who took it,Thus by the judgment of the gods are faring.I go, will suffer, will submit to dying!But, Haides' gates—these same I call, I speak to,And pray that on an opportune blow chancing,Without a struggle,—blood the calm death bringingIn easy outflow,—I this eye may close up!Cho.O much unhappy, but, again, much learnedWoman, long hast thou outstretched! But if trulyThou knowest thine own fate, how comes that, like toA god-led steer, to altar bold thou treadest?Kas.There 's no avoidance,—strangers, no! Some time more!Cho.. He last is, anyhow, by time advantaged.Kas.It comes, the day: I shall by flight gain little.Cho.But know thou patient art from thy brave spirit!Kas.Such things hears no one of the happy-fortuned.Cho.But gloriously to die—for man is grace, sure!Kas.Ah, sire, for thee and for thy noble children!Cho.But what thing is it? What fear turns thee backwards?Kas.Alas, alas!Cho.Why this "alas"? if 't is no spirit's loathing ...Kas.Slaughter blood-dripping does the household smell of!Cho.How else? This scent is of hearth-sacrifices.Kas.Such kind of steam as from a tomb is proper!Cho.No Surian honor to the House thou speak'st of!Kas.But I will go,—even in the household wailingMy fate and Agamemnon's. Life suffice me!Ah, strangers!I cry not "ah"—as bird at bush—through terrorIdly! to me, the dead thus much bear witness:When, for me—woman, there shall die a woman,And, for a man ill-wived, a man shall perish!This hospitality I ask as dying.Cho.O sufferer, thee—thy foretold fate I pity.Kas.Yet once for all, to speak a speech, I fain am:No dirge, mine for myself! The sun I pray to,Fronting his last light!—to my own avengers—That from my hateful slayers they exact tooPay for the dead slave—easy-managed hand's work!Cho.Alas for mortal matters! Happy-fortuned,—Why, any shade would turn them: if unhappy,By throws the wetting sponge has spoiled the picture!And more by much in mortals this I pity.The being well-to-do—Insatiate a desire of thisBorn with all mortals is,Nor any is there whoWell-being forces off, arointsFrom roofs whereat a finger points,"No more come in!" exclaiming. This man, too,To take the city of Priamos did the celestials give,And, honored by the god, he homeward comes;But now if, of the former, he shall payThe blood back, and, for those who ceased to live,Dying, for deaths in turn new punishment he dooms—Who, being mortal, would not prayWith an unmischievousDaimon to have been born—-who would not, hearing thus?Aga.Ah me! I am struck—a right-aimed stroke within me!Cho.Silence! Who is it shouts "stroke"—"right-aimedly," a wounded one?Aga.Ah me! indeed again,—a second, struck by!Cho.This work seems to me completed by this "Ah me" of the king's;But we somehow may together share in solid counsellings.Cho. 1.I, in the first place, my opinion tell you:—To cite the townsmen, by help-cry, to house here.Cho. 2.To me, it seems we ought to fall upon themAt quickest—prove the fact by sword fresh-flowing!Cho. 3.And I, of such opinion the partaker,Vote—to do something: not to wait—the main point!Cho. 4.'T is plain to see: for they prelude as though ofA tyranny the signs they gave the city.Cho. 5.For we waste time; while they,—this waiting's gloryTreading to ground,—allow the hand no slumber.Cho. 6.I know not—chancing on some plan —to tell it:'T is for the doer to plan of the deed also.Cho. 7.And I am such another: since I 'm schemelessHow to raise up again by words—a dead man!Cho. 8.What, and, protracting life, shall we give way thusTo the disgracers of our home, these rulers?Cho. 9.Why, 't is unbearable: but to die is better:For death than tyranny is the riper finish!Cho. 10.What, by the testifying "Ah me" of him,Shall we prognosticate the man as perished?Cho. 11.We must quite know ere speak these things concerning:For to conjecture and "quite know" are two things.Cho. 12.This same to praise I from all sides abound in—Clearly to know, Atreides, what he 's doing!Klu.Much having been before to purpose spoken,The opposite to say I shall not shamed be:For how should one, to enemies,—in semblance,Friends,—enmity proposing,—sorrow's net-frameEnclose, a height superior to outleaping?To me, indeed, this struggle of old—not mindlessOf an old victory—came: with time, I grant you!I stand where I have struck, things once accomplished:And so have done,—and this deny I shall not,—As that his fate was nor to fly nor ward off.A wrap-round with no outlet, as for fishes,I fence about him—the rich woe of the garment:I strike him twice, and in a double "Ah-me!"He let his limbs go—there!And to him, fallen,The third blow add I, giving—of Below-groundZeus, guardian of the dead—the votive favorThus in the mind of him he rages, falling,And blowing forth a brisk blood-spatter, strikes meWith the dark drop of slaughterous dew,—rejoicingNo less than, at the god-given dewy-comfort,The sown-stuff in its birth-throes from the calyx.Since so these things are,—Argives, my revered here,—Ye may rejoice—if ye rejoice: but I—boast!If it were fit on corpse to pour libation,That would be right—right over and above, too!The cup of evils in the house he, havingFilled with such curses, himself coming drinks of.Cho.We wonder at thy tongue: since bold-mouthed trulyIs she who in such speech boasts o'er her husband!Klu.Ye test me as I were a witless woman:But I—with heart intrepid—to you knowersSay (and thou—if thou wilt or praise or blame me,Comes to the same)—this man is Agamemnon,My husband, dead, the work of the right hand here,Ay, of a just artificer: so things are.Cho.What evil, O woman, food or drink, earth-bredOr sent from the flowing sea,Of such having feeDidst thou set on theeThis sacrificeAnd popular criesOf a curse on thy head?Off thou hast thrown him, off hast cutThe man from the city: butOff from the city thyself shalt beCut—to the citizensA hate immense!Klu.Now, indeed, thou adjudgest exile to me,And citizens' hate, and to have popular curses:Nothing of this against the man here bringing,Who, no more awe-checked than as 't were a beast's fate,—With sheep abundant in the well-fleeced graze-flocks,—Sacrificedhischild,—dearest fruit of travailTo me,—as song-spell against Threkian blowings.Nothimdid it behoove thee hence to banish—Pollution's penalty? But hearingmydeedsJusticer rough thou art! Now, this I tell thee:To threaten thus—me, one prepared to have thee(On like conditions, thy hand conquering) o'er meRule: but if God the opposite ordain us,Thou shalt learn—late taught, certes—to be modest.Cho.Greatly-intending thou art:Much-mindful, too, hast thou cried(Since thy mind, with its slaughter-outpouring part,Is frantic) that over the eyes, a patchOf blood—with blood to matchIs plain for a pride!Yet still, bereft of friends, thy fateIs—blow with blow to expiate!Klu.And this thou hearest—of my oaths, just warrant!By who fulfilled things for my daughter, Justice,Até, Erinus,—by whose help I slew him,—Not mine the fancy—Fear will tread my palaceSo long as on my hearth there burns a fire,Aigisthos as before well-caring for me;Since he to me is shield, no small, of boldness.Here does he lie—outrager of this female,Dainty of all the Chruseids under Ilion;And she—the captive, the soothsayer alsoAnd couchmate of this man, oracle-speaker,Faithful bedfellow,—ay, the sailors' benchesThey wore in common, nor unpunished did so,Since he is—thus! While, as for her,—swan-fashion,Her latest having chanted,—dying wailingShe lies,—to him, a sweetheart: me she brought toMy bed's by-nicety, the whet of dalliance.Cho.Alas, that someFate would comeUpon us in quickness—Neither much sicknessNeither bed-keeping—And bear unended sleeping,Now that subduedIs our keeper, the kindest of mood!Having borne, for a woman's sake, much strife—By a woman he withered from life!Ah me!Law-breaking Helena who, one,Hast many, so many souls undone'Neath Troia! and now the consummatedMuch-memorable curseHast thou made flower-forth, redWith the blood no rains disperse,That which was then in the House—Strife all-subduing, the woe of a spouse.Klu.Nowise, of death the fate—Burdened by these things—supplicate!Nor on Helena turn thy wrathAs the man-destroyer, as "she who hath,Being but one,Many and many a soul undoneOf the men, the Danaoi"—And wrought immense annoy!Cho.Daimon, who fallestUpon this household and the double-racedTantalidai, a rule, minded like theirs displaced,Thou rulest me with, now,Whose heart thou gallest!And on the body, like a hateful crow,Stationed, all out of tune, his chant to chantDoth Something vaunt!Klu.Now, of a truth, hast thou set uprightThy mouth's opinion,—Naming the Sprite,The triply-gross,O'er the race that has dominion:For through him it is that ErosThe carnage-lickerIn the belly is bred: ere ended quiteIs the elder throe—new ichor!Cho.Certainly, great of mightAnd heavy of wrath, the SpriteThou tellest of, in the palace(Woe, woe!)—An evil tale of a fateBy Até's maliceRendered insatiate!Oh, oh,—King, king, how shall I beweep thee?From friendly soul what ever say?Thou liest where webs of the spider o'ersweep theeIn impious death, life breathing away.O me—me!This couch, not free!By a slavish death subdued thou art,From the hand, by the two-edged dart.Klu.Thou boastest this deed to be mine:But leave off styling me"The Agamemnonian wife!"For, showing himself in signOf the spouse of the corpse thou dost see,Did the ancient bitter avenging-ghostOf Atreus, savage host,Pay the man here as price—A full-grown for the young one's sacrifice.Cho.That no cause, indeed, of this killing art thou,Who shall be witness-bearer?How shall he bear it—how?But the sire's avenging-ghost might be in the deed a sharer.He is forced on and onBy the kin-born flowing of blood,—Black Ares: to where, having gone,He shall leave off, flowing done,At the frozen-child's-flesh food.King, king, how shall I beweep thee!From friendly soul what ever say?Thou liest where webs of the spider o'ersweep thee,In impious death, life breathing away.Oh, me—me!This couch not free!By a slavish death subdued thou art,From the hand, by the two-edged dart.Klu.No death "unfit for the free"Do I think this man's to be:For did not himself a slavish curseTo his household decree?But the scion of him, myself did nurse—That much-bewailed Iphigeneia, heHaving done well by,—and as well, nor worse,Been done to,—let him not in Haides loudlyBear himself proudly!Being by sword-destroying death amercedFor that sword's punishment himself inflicted first.Cho.I at a loss am left—Of a feasible scheme of mind bereft—Where I may turn: for the house is falling:I fear the bloody crash of the rainThat ruins the roof as it bursts amain:The warning-dropHas come to a stop.Destiny doth Justice whetFor other deed of hurt, on other whetstones yet.Woe, earth, earth—would thou hadst takenmeEre I saw the man I see,On the pallet-bedOf the silver-sided bath-vase, dead'Who is it shall bury him, whoSing his dirge? Can it be trueThatthouwilt dare this same to do—-Having slain thy husband, thine own,To make his funeral moan:And for the soul of him, in placeOf his mighty deeds, a graceless graceTo wickedly institute? By whomShall the tale of praise o'er the tombAt the god-like man be sent—From the truth of his mind as he toils intent?Klu.It belongs not to thee to declareThis object of care!By us did he fall—down there!Did he die—down there! and down, no less,We will bury him there, and not beneathThe wails of the household over his death:But Iphigeneia,—with kindliness,—His daughter,—as the case requires,Facing him full, at the rapid-flowingPassage of Groans shall—both hands throwingAround him—kiss that kindest of sires!Cho.This blame comes in the place of blame:Hard battle it is to judge each claim."He is borne away who bears away:And the killer has all to pay."And this remains while Zeus is remaining,"The doer shall suffer in time"—for, such his ordaining.Who may cast out of the House its cursed brood?The race is to Até glued!Klu.Thou hast gone into this oracleWith a true result. For me, then,—I will—To the Daimon of the PleisthenidaiMaking an oath—with all these things complyHard as they are to bear. For the rest—Going from out this House, a guest,May he wear some other familyTo naught, with the deaths of kin by kin!And—keeping a little part of my goods—Wholly am I contented inHaving expelled from the royal HouseThese frenzied moodsThe mutually-murderous.Aigisthos.O light propitious of day justice-bringing!I may say truly, now, that men's avengers,The gods from high, of earth behold the sorrows—Seeing, as I have, i' the spun robes of the Erinues,This man here lying,—sight to me how pleasant!—His father's hands' contrivances repaying.For Atreus, this land's lord, of this man father,Thuestes, my own father—to speak clearly—His brother too,—being i' the rule contested,—Drove forth to exile from both town and household:And, coming back, to the hearth turned, a suppliant,Wretched Thuestes found the fate assured him—Not to die, bloodying his paternal thresholdJust there: but host-wise this man's impious fatherAtreus, soul-keenly more than kindly,—seemingTo joyous hold a flesh-day,—to my fatherServed up a meal, the flesh of his own children.The feet indeed and the hands' top divisionsHe hid, high up and isolated sitting:But, their unshowing parts in ignorance taking,He forthwith eats food—as thou seest—perditionTo the race: and then, 'ware of the deed ill-omened,He shrieked O!—falls back, vomiting, from the carnage,And fate on the Pelopidai past hearingHe prays down—putting in his curse togetherThe kicking down o' the feast—that so might perishThe race of Pleisthenes entire: and thence isThat it is given thee to see this man prostrate.And I was rightly of this slaughter stitch-man:Since me,—being third from ten,—with my poor fatherHe drives out—being then a babe in swathe-bands:But, grown up, back again has justice brought me:And of this man I got hold—being without-doors—Fitting together the whole scheme of ill-will.So, sweet, in fine, even to die were to me,Seeing as I have, this man i' the toils of justice!Cho.Aigisthos, arrogance in ills I love not.Dost thou say—willing, thou didst kill the man here,And, alone, plot this lamentable slaughter?I say—thy head in justice will escape notThe people's throwing—know that!—stones and curses!Aig.Thou such things soundest—seated at the lowerOarage to those who rule at the ship's mid-bench?Thou shalt know, being old, how heavy is teachingTo one of the like age—bidden be modest!But chains and old age and the pangs of fastingStand out before all else in teaching,—prophetsAt souls'-cure! Dost not, seeing aught, see this too?Against goads kick not, lest tript-up thou suffer!Cho.Woman, thou,—of him coming new from battleHouseguard—thy husband's bed the while disgracing,—For the Army-leader didst thou plan this fate too?Aig.These words too are of groans the prime-begetters!Truly a tongue opposed to Orpheus hast thou:For he led all things by his voice's grace-charm,But thou, upstirring them by these wild yelpings,Wilt lead them! Forced, thou wilt appear the tamer!Cho.So—thou shalt be my king then of the Argeians—Who, not when for this man his fate thou plannedst,Daredst to do this deed—thyself the slayer!Aig.For, to deceive him was the wife's part, certes:Iwas looked after—foe, ay, old-begotten!But out of this man's wealth will I endeavorTo rule the citizens: and the no-man-minder—Him will I heavily yoke—by no means trace-horse,A corned-up colt! but that bad friend in darkness,Famine its housemate, shall behold him gentle.Cho.Why then, this man here, from a coward spirit,Didst not thou slay thyself? But,—helped,—a woman,The country's pest, and that of gods o' the country,Killed him! Orestes, where may he see light now?That coming hither back, with gracious fortune,Of both these he may be the all-conquering slayer?Aig.But since this to do thou thinkest—and not talk—thou soon shalt know!Up then, comrades dear! the proper thing to do—not distant this!Cho.Up then! hilt in hold, his sword let every one aright dispose!Aig.Ay, but I myself too, hilt in hold, do not refuse to die!Cho.Thou wilt die, thou say'st, to who accept it. We the chance demand!Klu.Nowise, O belovedest of men, may we do other ills!To have reaped away these, even, is a harvest much to me!Go, both thou and these the old men, to the homes appointed each,Ere ye suffer! It behooved one do these things just as we did:And if of these troubles, there should be enough—we may assent—By the Daimon's heavy heel unfortunately stricken ones!So a woman's counsel hath it—if one judge it learning-worth.Aig.But to think that these at me the idle tongue should thus o'erbloom,And throw out such words—the Daimon's power experimenting on—And, of modest knowledge missing,—me, the ruler,...Cho.Ne'er may this befall Argeians—wicked man to fawn before!Aig.Anyhow, in after-days, will I, yes, I, be at thee yet!Cho.Not if hither should the Daimon make Orestes straightway come!Aig.Oh, I know, myself, that fugitives on hopes are pasture-fed!Cho.Do thy deed, get fat, defiling justice, since the power is thine!Aig.Know that thou shalt give me satisfaction for this folly's sake!Cho.Boast on, bearing thee audacious, like a cock his females by!Klu.Have not thou respect for these same idle yelpings! I and thouWill arrange it, o'er this household ruling excellently well.
Kas.Thou, indeed, prayest: they to kill are busy!
Kas.Thou, indeed, prayest: they to kill are busy!
Cho.Of what man is it ministered, this sorrow?
Cho.Of what man is it ministered, this sorrow?
Kas.There again, wide thou look'st of my foretellings.
Kas.There again, wide thou look'st of my foretellings.
Cho.For, the fulfiller's scheme I have not gone with.
Cho.For, the fulfiller's scheme I have not gone with.
Kas.And yet too well I know the speech Hellenic.
Kas.And yet too well I know the speech Hellenic.
Cho.For Puthian oracles, thy speech, and hard too!
Cho.For Puthian oracles, thy speech, and hard too!
Kas.Papai: what fire this! and it comes upon me!Ototoi, Lukeion Apollon, ah me—me!She, the two-footed lioness that sleeps withThe wolf, in absence of the generous lion,Kills me the unhappy one: and as a poisonBrewing, to put my price too in the anger,She vows, against her mate this weapon whettingTo pay him back the bringing me, with slaughter.Why keep I then these things to make me laughed at,Both wands and, round my neck, oracular fillets?Thee, at least, ere my own fate will I ruin:Go, to perdition falling! Boons exchange we—Some other Até in my stead make wealthy!See there—himself, Apollon stripping from meThe oracular garment! having looked upon me—Even in these adornments, laughed by friends at,As good as foes, i' the balance weighed: and vainly—For, called crazed stroller,—as I had been gypsy,Beggar, unhappy, starved to death,—I bore it.And now the Prophet—prophet me undoing,Has led away to these so deadly fortunes!Instead of my sire's altar, waits the hack-blockShe struck with first warm bloody sacrificing!Yet nowise unavenged of gods will death be:For there shall come another, our avenger,The mother-slaying scion, father's doomsman:Fugitive, wanderer, from this land an exile,Back shall he come,—for friends, copestone these curses!For there is sworn a great oath from the gods thatHim shall bring hither his fallen sire's prostration.Why make I then, like an indweller, moaning?Since at the first I foresaw Ilion's citySuffering as it has suffered: and who took it,Thus by the judgment of the gods are faring.I go, will suffer, will submit to dying!But, Haides' gates—these same I call, I speak to,And pray that on an opportune blow chancing,Without a struggle,—blood the calm death bringingIn easy outflow,—I this eye may close up!
Kas.Papai: what fire this! and it comes upon me!
Ototoi, Lukeion Apollon, ah me—me!
She, the two-footed lioness that sleeps with
The wolf, in absence of the generous lion,
Kills me the unhappy one: and as a poison
Brewing, to put my price too in the anger,
She vows, against her mate this weapon whetting
To pay him back the bringing me, with slaughter.
Why keep I then these things to make me laughed at,
Both wands and, round my neck, oracular fillets?
Thee, at least, ere my own fate will I ruin:
Go, to perdition falling! Boons exchange we—
Some other Até in my stead make wealthy!
See there—himself, Apollon stripping from me
The oracular garment! having looked upon me
—Even in these adornments, laughed by friends at,
As good as foes, i' the balance weighed: and vainly—
For, called crazed stroller,—as I had been gypsy,
Beggar, unhappy, starved to death,—I bore it.
And now the Prophet—prophet me undoing,
Has led away to these so deadly fortunes!
Instead of my sire's altar, waits the hack-block
She struck with first warm bloody sacrificing!
Yet nowise unavenged of gods will death be:
For there shall come another, our avenger,
The mother-slaying scion, father's doomsman:
Fugitive, wanderer, from this land an exile,
Back shall he come,—for friends, copestone these curses!
For there is sworn a great oath from the gods that
Him shall bring hither his fallen sire's prostration.
Why make I then, like an indweller, moaning?
Since at the first I foresaw Ilion's city
Suffering as it has suffered: and who took it,
Thus by the judgment of the gods are faring.
I go, will suffer, will submit to dying!
But, Haides' gates—these same I call, I speak to,
And pray that on an opportune blow chancing,
Without a struggle,—blood the calm death bringing
In easy outflow,—I this eye may close up!
Cho.O much unhappy, but, again, much learnedWoman, long hast thou outstretched! But if trulyThou knowest thine own fate, how comes that, like toA god-led steer, to altar bold thou treadest?
Cho.O much unhappy, but, again, much learned
Woman, long hast thou outstretched! But if truly
Thou knowest thine own fate, how comes that, like to
A god-led steer, to altar bold thou treadest?
Kas.There 's no avoidance,—strangers, no! Some time more!
Kas.There 's no avoidance,—strangers, no! Some time more!
Cho.. He last is, anyhow, by time advantaged.
Cho.. He last is, anyhow, by time advantaged.
Kas.It comes, the day: I shall by flight gain little.
Kas.It comes, the day: I shall by flight gain little.
Cho.But know thou patient art from thy brave spirit!
Cho.But know thou patient art from thy brave spirit!
Kas.Such things hears no one of the happy-fortuned.
Kas.Such things hears no one of the happy-fortuned.
Cho.But gloriously to die—for man is grace, sure!
Cho.But gloriously to die—for man is grace, sure!
Kas.Ah, sire, for thee and for thy noble children!
Kas.Ah, sire, for thee and for thy noble children!
Cho.But what thing is it? What fear turns thee backwards?
Cho.But what thing is it? What fear turns thee backwards?
Kas.Alas, alas!
Kas.Alas, alas!
Cho.Why this "alas"? if 't is no spirit's loathing ...
Cho.Why this "alas"? if 't is no spirit's loathing ...
Kas.Slaughter blood-dripping does the household smell of!
Kas.Slaughter blood-dripping does the household smell of!
Cho.How else? This scent is of hearth-sacrifices.
Cho.How else? This scent is of hearth-sacrifices.
Kas.Such kind of steam as from a tomb is proper!
Kas.Such kind of steam as from a tomb is proper!
Cho.No Surian honor to the House thou speak'st of!
Cho.No Surian honor to the House thou speak'st of!
Kas.But I will go,—even in the household wailingMy fate and Agamemnon's. Life suffice me!Ah, strangers!I cry not "ah"—as bird at bush—through terrorIdly! to me, the dead thus much bear witness:When, for me—woman, there shall die a woman,And, for a man ill-wived, a man shall perish!This hospitality I ask as dying.
Kas.But I will go,—even in the household wailing
My fate and Agamemnon's. Life suffice me!
Ah, strangers!
I cry not "ah"—as bird at bush—through terror
Idly! to me, the dead thus much bear witness:
When, for me—woman, there shall die a woman,
And, for a man ill-wived, a man shall perish!
This hospitality I ask as dying.
Cho.O sufferer, thee—thy foretold fate I pity.
Cho.O sufferer, thee—thy foretold fate I pity.
Kas.Yet once for all, to speak a speech, I fain am:No dirge, mine for myself! The sun I pray to,Fronting his last light!—to my own avengers—That from my hateful slayers they exact tooPay for the dead slave—easy-managed hand's work!
Kas.Yet once for all, to speak a speech, I fain am:
No dirge, mine for myself! The sun I pray to,
Fronting his last light!—to my own avengers—
That from my hateful slayers they exact too
Pay for the dead slave—easy-managed hand's work!
Cho.Alas for mortal matters! Happy-fortuned,—Why, any shade would turn them: if unhappy,By throws the wetting sponge has spoiled the picture!And more by much in mortals this I pity.The being well-to-do—Insatiate a desire of thisBorn with all mortals is,Nor any is there whoWell-being forces off, arointsFrom roofs whereat a finger points,"No more come in!" exclaiming. This man, too,To take the city of Priamos did the celestials give,And, honored by the god, he homeward comes;But now if, of the former, he shall payThe blood back, and, for those who ceased to live,Dying, for deaths in turn new punishment he dooms—Who, being mortal, would not prayWith an unmischievousDaimon to have been born—-who would not, hearing thus?
Cho.Alas for mortal matters! Happy-fortuned,—
Why, any shade would turn them: if unhappy,
By throws the wetting sponge has spoiled the picture!
And more by much in mortals this I pity.
The being well-to-do—
Insatiate a desire of this
Born with all mortals is,
Nor any is there who
Well-being forces off, aroints
From roofs whereat a finger points,
"No more come in!" exclaiming. This man, too,
To take the city of Priamos did the celestials give,
And, honored by the god, he homeward comes;
But now if, of the former, he shall pay
The blood back, and, for those who ceased to live,
Dying, for deaths in turn new punishment he dooms—
Who, being mortal, would not pray
With an unmischievous
Daimon to have been born—-who would not, hearing thus?
Aga.Ah me! I am struck—a right-aimed stroke within me!
Aga.Ah me! I am struck—a right-aimed stroke within me!
Cho.Silence! Who is it shouts "stroke"—"right-aimedly," a wounded one?
Cho.Silence! Who is it shouts "stroke"—"right-aimedly," a wounded one?
Aga.Ah me! indeed again,—a second, struck by!
Aga.Ah me! indeed again,—a second, struck by!
Cho.This work seems to me completed by this "Ah me" of the king's;But we somehow may together share in solid counsellings.
Cho.This work seems to me completed by this "Ah me" of the king's;
But we somehow may together share in solid counsellings.
Cho. 1.I, in the first place, my opinion tell you:—To cite the townsmen, by help-cry, to house here.
Cho. 1.I, in the first place, my opinion tell you:
—To cite the townsmen, by help-cry, to house here.
Cho. 2.To me, it seems we ought to fall upon themAt quickest—prove the fact by sword fresh-flowing!
Cho. 2.To me, it seems we ought to fall upon them
At quickest—prove the fact by sword fresh-flowing!
Cho. 3.And I, of such opinion the partaker,Vote—to do something: not to wait—the main point!
Cho. 3.And I, of such opinion the partaker,
Vote—to do something: not to wait—the main point!
Cho. 4.'T is plain to see: for they prelude as though ofA tyranny the signs they gave the city.
Cho. 4.'T is plain to see: for they prelude as though of
A tyranny the signs they gave the city.
Cho. 5.For we waste time; while they,—this waiting's gloryTreading to ground,—allow the hand no slumber.
Cho. 5.For we waste time; while they,—this waiting's glory
Treading to ground,—allow the hand no slumber.
Cho. 6.I know not—chancing on some plan —to tell it:'T is for the doer to plan of the deed also.
Cho. 6.I know not—chancing on some plan —to tell it:
'T is for the doer to plan of the deed also.
Cho. 7.And I am such another: since I 'm schemelessHow to raise up again by words—a dead man!
Cho. 7.And I am such another: since I 'm schemeless
How to raise up again by words—a dead man!
Cho. 8.What, and, protracting life, shall we give way thusTo the disgracers of our home, these rulers?
Cho. 8.What, and, protracting life, shall we give way thus
To the disgracers of our home, these rulers?
Cho. 9.Why, 't is unbearable: but to die is better:For death than tyranny is the riper finish!
Cho. 9.Why, 't is unbearable: but to die is better:
For death than tyranny is the riper finish!
Cho. 10.What, by the testifying "Ah me" of him,Shall we prognosticate the man as perished?
Cho. 10.What, by the testifying "Ah me" of him,
Shall we prognosticate the man as perished?
Cho. 11.We must quite know ere speak these things concerning:For to conjecture and "quite know" are two things.
Cho. 11.We must quite know ere speak these things concerning:
For to conjecture and "quite know" are two things.
Cho. 12.This same to praise I from all sides abound in—Clearly to know, Atreides, what he 's doing!
Cho. 12.This same to praise I from all sides abound in—
Clearly to know, Atreides, what he 's doing!
Klu.Much having been before to purpose spoken,The opposite to say I shall not shamed be:For how should one, to enemies,—in semblance,Friends,—enmity proposing,—sorrow's net-frameEnclose, a height superior to outleaping?To me, indeed, this struggle of old—not mindlessOf an old victory—came: with time, I grant you!I stand where I have struck, things once accomplished:And so have done,—and this deny I shall not,—As that his fate was nor to fly nor ward off.A wrap-round with no outlet, as for fishes,I fence about him—the rich woe of the garment:I strike him twice, and in a double "Ah-me!"He let his limbs go—there!And to him, fallen,The third blow add I, giving—of Below-groundZeus, guardian of the dead—the votive favorThus in the mind of him he rages, falling,And blowing forth a brisk blood-spatter, strikes meWith the dark drop of slaughterous dew,—rejoicingNo less than, at the god-given dewy-comfort,The sown-stuff in its birth-throes from the calyx.Since so these things are,—Argives, my revered here,—Ye may rejoice—if ye rejoice: but I—boast!If it were fit on corpse to pour libation,That would be right—right over and above, too!The cup of evils in the house he, havingFilled with such curses, himself coming drinks of.
Klu.Much having been before to purpose spoken,
The opposite to say I shall not shamed be:
For how should one, to enemies,—in semblance,
Friends,—enmity proposing,—sorrow's net-frame
Enclose, a height superior to outleaping?
To me, indeed, this struggle of old—not mindless
Of an old victory—came: with time, I grant you!
I stand where I have struck, things once accomplished:
And so have done,—and this deny I shall not,—
As that his fate was nor to fly nor ward off.
A wrap-round with no outlet, as for fishes,
I fence about him—the rich woe of the garment:
I strike him twice, and in a double "Ah-me!"
He let his limbs go—there!And to him, fallen,
The third blow add I, giving—of Below-ground
Zeus, guardian of the dead—the votive favor
Thus in the mind of him he rages, falling,
And blowing forth a brisk blood-spatter, strikes me
With the dark drop of slaughterous dew,—rejoicing
No less than, at the god-given dewy-comfort,
The sown-stuff in its birth-throes from the calyx.
Since so these things are,—Argives, my revered here,—
Ye may rejoice—if ye rejoice: but I—boast!
If it were fit on corpse to pour libation,
That would be right—right over and above, too!
The cup of evils in the house he, having
Filled with such curses, himself coming drinks of.
Cho.We wonder at thy tongue: since bold-mouthed trulyIs she who in such speech boasts o'er her husband!
Cho.We wonder at thy tongue: since bold-mouthed truly
Is she who in such speech boasts o'er her husband!
Klu.Ye test me as I were a witless woman:But I—with heart intrepid—to you knowersSay (and thou—if thou wilt or praise or blame me,Comes to the same)—this man is Agamemnon,My husband, dead, the work of the right hand here,Ay, of a just artificer: so things are.
Klu.Ye test me as I were a witless woman:
But I—with heart intrepid—to you knowers
Say (and thou—if thou wilt or praise or blame me,
Comes to the same)—this man is Agamemnon,
My husband, dead, the work of the right hand here,
Ay, of a just artificer: so things are.
Cho.What evil, O woman, food or drink, earth-bredOr sent from the flowing sea,Of such having feeDidst thou set on theeThis sacrificeAnd popular criesOf a curse on thy head?Off thou hast thrown him, off hast cutThe man from the city: butOff from the city thyself shalt beCut—to the citizensA hate immense!
Cho.What evil, O woman, food or drink, earth-bred
Or sent from the flowing sea,
Of such having fee
Didst thou set on thee
This sacrifice
And popular cries
Of a curse on thy head?
Off thou hast thrown him, off hast cut
The man from the city: but
Off from the city thyself shalt be
Cut—to the citizens
A hate immense!
Klu.Now, indeed, thou adjudgest exile to me,And citizens' hate, and to have popular curses:Nothing of this against the man here bringing,Who, no more awe-checked than as 't were a beast's fate,—With sheep abundant in the well-fleeced graze-flocks,—Sacrificedhischild,—dearest fruit of travailTo me,—as song-spell against Threkian blowings.Nothimdid it behoove thee hence to banish—Pollution's penalty? But hearingmydeedsJusticer rough thou art! Now, this I tell thee:To threaten thus—me, one prepared to have thee(On like conditions, thy hand conquering) o'er meRule: but if God the opposite ordain us,Thou shalt learn—late taught, certes—to be modest.
Klu.Now, indeed, thou adjudgest exile to me,
And citizens' hate, and to have popular curses:
Nothing of this against the man here bringing,
Who, no more awe-checked than as 't were a beast's fate,—
With sheep abundant in the well-fleeced graze-flocks,—
Sacrificedhischild,—dearest fruit of travail
To me,—as song-spell against Threkian blowings.
Nothimdid it behoove thee hence to banish
—Pollution's penalty? But hearingmydeeds
Justicer rough thou art! Now, this I tell thee:
To threaten thus—me, one prepared to have thee
(On like conditions, thy hand conquering) o'er me
Rule: but if God the opposite ordain us,
Thou shalt learn—late taught, certes—to be modest.
Cho.Greatly-intending thou art:Much-mindful, too, hast thou cried(Since thy mind, with its slaughter-outpouring part,Is frantic) that over the eyes, a patchOf blood—with blood to matchIs plain for a pride!Yet still, bereft of friends, thy fateIs—blow with blow to expiate!
Cho.Greatly-intending thou art:
Much-mindful, too, hast thou cried
(Since thy mind, with its slaughter-outpouring part,
Is frantic) that over the eyes, a patch
Of blood—with blood to match
Is plain for a pride!
Yet still, bereft of friends, thy fate
Is—blow with blow to expiate!
Klu.And this thou hearest—of my oaths, just warrant!By who fulfilled things for my daughter, Justice,Até, Erinus,—by whose help I slew him,—Not mine the fancy—Fear will tread my palaceSo long as on my hearth there burns a fire,Aigisthos as before well-caring for me;Since he to me is shield, no small, of boldness.Here does he lie—outrager of this female,Dainty of all the Chruseids under Ilion;And she—the captive, the soothsayer alsoAnd couchmate of this man, oracle-speaker,Faithful bedfellow,—ay, the sailors' benchesThey wore in common, nor unpunished did so,Since he is—thus! While, as for her,—swan-fashion,Her latest having chanted,—dying wailingShe lies,—to him, a sweetheart: me she brought toMy bed's by-nicety, the whet of dalliance.
Klu.And this thou hearest—of my oaths, just warrant!
By who fulfilled things for my daughter, Justice,
Até, Erinus,—by whose help I slew him,—
Not mine the fancy—Fear will tread my palace
So long as on my hearth there burns a fire,
Aigisthos as before well-caring for me;
Since he to me is shield, no small, of boldness.
Here does he lie—outrager of this female,
Dainty of all the Chruseids under Ilion;
And she—the captive, the soothsayer also
And couchmate of this man, oracle-speaker,
Faithful bedfellow,—ay, the sailors' benches
They wore in common, nor unpunished did so,
Since he is—thus! While, as for her,—swan-fashion,
Her latest having chanted,—dying wailing
She lies,—to him, a sweetheart: me she brought to
My bed's by-nicety, the whet of dalliance.
Cho.Alas, that someFate would comeUpon us in quickness—Neither much sicknessNeither bed-keeping—And bear unended sleeping,Now that subduedIs our keeper, the kindest of mood!Having borne, for a woman's sake, much strife—By a woman he withered from life!Ah me!Law-breaking Helena who, one,Hast many, so many souls undone'Neath Troia! and now the consummatedMuch-memorable curseHast thou made flower-forth, redWith the blood no rains disperse,That which was then in the House—Strife all-subduing, the woe of a spouse.
Cho.Alas, that some
Fate would come
Upon us in quickness—
Neither much sickness
Neither bed-keeping—
And bear unended sleeping,
Now that subdued
Is our keeper, the kindest of mood!
Having borne, for a woman's sake, much strife—
By a woman he withered from life!
Ah me!
Law-breaking Helena who, one,
Hast many, so many souls undone
'Neath Troia! and now the consummated
Much-memorable curse
Hast thou made flower-forth, red
With the blood no rains disperse,
That which was then in the House—
Strife all-subduing, the woe of a spouse.
Klu.Nowise, of death the fate—Burdened by these things—supplicate!Nor on Helena turn thy wrathAs the man-destroyer, as "she who hath,Being but one,Many and many a soul undoneOf the men, the Danaoi"—And wrought immense annoy!
Klu.Nowise, of death the fate—
Burdened by these things—supplicate!
Nor on Helena turn thy wrath
As the man-destroyer, as "she who hath,
Being but one,
Many and many a soul undone
Of the men, the Danaoi"—
And wrought immense annoy!
Cho.Daimon, who fallestUpon this household and the double-racedTantalidai, a rule, minded like theirs displaced,Thou rulest me with, now,Whose heart thou gallest!And on the body, like a hateful crow,Stationed, all out of tune, his chant to chantDoth Something vaunt!
Cho.Daimon, who fallest
Upon this household and the double-raced
Tantalidai, a rule, minded like theirs displaced,
Thou rulest me with, now,
Whose heart thou gallest!
And on the body, like a hateful crow,
Stationed, all out of tune, his chant to chant
Doth Something vaunt!
Klu.Now, of a truth, hast thou set uprightThy mouth's opinion,—Naming the Sprite,The triply-gross,O'er the race that has dominion:For through him it is that ErosThe carnage-lickerIn the belly is bred: ere ended quiteIs the elder throe—new ichor!
Klu.Now, of a truth, hast thou set upright
Thy mouth's opinion,—
Naming the Sprite,
The triply-gross,
O'er the race that has dominion:
For through him it is that Eros
The carnage-licker
In the belly is bred: ere ended quite
Is the elder throe—new ichor!
Cho.Certainly, great of mightAnd heavy of wrath, the SpriteThou tellest of, in the palace(Woe, woe!)—An evil tale of a fateBy Até's maliceRendered insatiate!Oh, oh,—King, king, how shall I beweep thee?From friendly soul what ever say?Thou liest where webs of the spider o'ersweep theeIn impious death, life breathing away.O me—me!This couch, not free!By a slavish death subdued thou art,From the hand, by the two-edged dart.
Cho.Certainly, great of might
And heavy of wrath, the Sprite
Thou tellest of, in the palace
(Woe, woe!)
—An evil tale of a fate
By Até's malice
Rendered insatiate!
Oh, oh,—
King, king, how shall I beweep thee?
From friendly soul what ever say?
Thou liest where webs of the spider o'ersweep thee
In impious death, life breathing away.
O me—me!
This couch, not free!
By a slavish death subdued thou art,
From the hand, by the two-edged dart.
Klu.Thou boastest this deed to be mine:But leave off styling me"The Agamemnonian wife!"For, showing himself in signOf the spouse of the corpse thou dost see,Did the ancient bitter avenging-ghostOf Atreus, savage host,Pay the man here as price—A full-grown for the young one's sacrifice.
Klu.Thou boastest this deed to be mine:
But leave off styling me
"The Agamemnonian wife!"
For, showing himself in sign
Of the spouse of the corpse thou dost see,
Did the ancient bitter avenging-ghost
Of Atreus, savage host,
Pay the man here as price—
A full-grown for the young one's sacrifice.
Cho.That no cause, indeed, of this killing art thou,Who shall be witness-bearer?How shall he bear it—how?But the sire's avenging-ghost might be in the deed a sharer.He is forced on and onBy the kin-born flowing of blood,—Black Ares: to where, having gone,He shall leave off, flowing done,At the frozen-child's-flesh food.King, king, how shall I beweep thee!From friendly soul what ever say?Thou liest where webs of the spider o'ersweep thee,In impious death, life breathing away.Oh, me—me!This couch not free!By a slavish death subdued thou art,From the hand, by the two-edged dart.
Cho.That no cause, indeed, of this killing art thou,
Who shall be witness-bearer?
How shall he bear it—how?
But the sire's avenging-ghost might be in the deed a sharer.
He is forced on and on
By the kin-born flowing of blood,
—Black Ares: to where, having gone,
He shall leave off, flowing done,
At the frozen-child's-flesh food.
King, king, how shall I beweep thee!
From friendly soul what ever say?
Thou liest where webs of the spider o'ersweep thee,
In impious death, life breathing away.
Oh, me—me!
This couch not free!
By a slavish death subdued thou art,
From the hand, by the two-edged dart.
Klu.No death "unfit for the free"Do I think this man's to be:For did not himself a slavish curseTo his household decree?But the scion of him, myself did nurse—That much-bewailed Iphigeneia, heHaving done well by,—and as well, nor worse,Been done to,—let him not in Haides loudlyBear himself proudly!Being by sword-destroying death amercedFor that sword's punishment himself inflicted first.
Klu.No death "unfit for the free"
Do I think this man's to be:
For did not himself a slavish curse
To his household decree?
But the scion of him, myself did nurse—
That much-bewailed Iphigeneia, he
Having done well by,—and as well, nor worse,
Been done to,—let him not in Haides loudly
Bear himself proudly!
Being by sword-destroying death amerced
For that sword's punishment himself inflicted first.
Cho.I at a loss am left—Of a feasible scheme of mind bereft—Where I may turn: for the house is falling:I fear the bloody crash of the rainThat ruins the roof as it bursts amain:The warning-dropHas come to a stop.Destiny doth Justice whetFor other deed of hurt, on other whetstones yet.Woe, earth, earth—would thou hadst takenmeEre I saw the man I see,On the pallet-bedOf the silver-sided bath-vase, dead'Who is it shall bury him, whoSing his dirge? Can it be trueThatthouwilt dare this same to do—-Having slain thy husband, thine own,To make his funeral moan:And for the soul of him, in placeOf his mighty deeds, a graceless graceTo wickedly institute? By whomShall the tale of praise o'er the tombAt the god-like man be sent—From the truth of his mind as he toils intent?
Cho.I at a loss am left—
Of a feasible scheme of mind bereft—
Where I may turn: for the house is falling:
I fear the bloody crash of the rain
That ruins the roof as it bursts amain:
The warning-drop
Has come to a stop.
Destiny doth Justice whet
For other deed of hurt, on other whetstones yet.
Woe, earth, earth—would thou hadst takenme
Ere I saw the man I see,
On the pallet-bed
Of the silver-sided bath-vase, dead'
Who is it shall bury him, who
Sing his dirge? Can it be true
Thatthouwilt dare this same to do—-
Having slain thy husband, thine own,
To make his funeral moan:
And for the soul of him, in place
Of his mighty deeds, a graceless grace
To wickedly institute? By whom
Shall the tale of praise o'er the tomb
At the god-like man be sent—
From the truth of his mind as he toils intent?
Klu.It belongs not to thee to declareThis object of care!By us did he fall—down there!Did he die—down there! and down, no less,We will bury him there, and not beneathThe wails of the household over his death:But Iphigeneia,—with kindliness,—His daughter,—as the case requires,Facing him full, at the rapid-flowingPassage of Groans shall—both hands throwingAround him—kiss that kindest of sires!
Klu.It belongs not to thee to declare
This object of care!
By us did he fall—down there!
Did he die—down there! and down, no less,
We will bury him there, and not beneath
The wails of the household over his death:
But Iphigeneia,—with kindliness,—
His daughter,—as the case requires,
Facing him full, at the rapid-flowing
Passage of Groans shall—both hands throwing
Around him—kiss that kindest of sires!
Cho.This blame comes in the place of blame:Hard battle it is to judge each claim."He is borne away who bears away:And the killer has all to pay."And this remains while Zeus is remaining,"The doer shall suffer in time"—for, such his ordaining.Who may cast out of the House its cursed brood?The race is to Até glued!
Cho.This blame comes in the place of blame:
Hard battle it is to judge each claim.
"He is borne away who bears away:
And the killer has all to pay."
And this remains while Zeus is remaining,
"The doer shall suffer in time"—for, such his ordaining.
Who may cast out of the House its cursed brood?
The race is to Até glued!
Klu.Thou hast gone into this oracleWith a true result. For me, then,—I will—To the Daimon of the PleisthenidaiMaking an oath—with all these things complyHard as they are to bear. For the rest—Going from out this House, a guest,May he wear some other familyTo naught, with the deaths of kin by kin!And—keeping a little part of my goods—Wholly am I contented inHaving expelled from the royal HouseThese frenzied moodsThe mutually-murderous.
Klu.Thou hast gone into this oracle
With a true result. For me, then,—I will
—To the Daimon of the Pleisthenidai
Making an oath—with all these things comply
Hard as they are to bear. For the rest—
Going from out this House, a guest,
May he wear some other family
To naught, with the deaths of kin by kin!
And—keeping a little part of my goods—
Wholly am I contented in
Having expelled from the royal House
These frenzied moods
The mutually-murderous.
Aigisthos.O light propitious of day justice-bringing!I may say truly, now, that men's avengers,The gods from high, of earth behold the sorrows—Seeing, as I have, i' the spun robes of the Erinues,This man here lying,—sight to me how pleasant!—His father's hands' contrivances repaying.For Atreus, this land's lord, of this man father,Thuestes, my own father—to speak clearly—His brother too,—being i' the rule contested,—Drove forth to exile from both town and household:And, coming back, to the hearth turned, a suppliant,Wretched Thuestes found the fate assured him—Not to die, bloodying his paternal thresholdJust there: but host-wise this man's impious fatherAtreus, soul-keenly more than kindly,—seemingTo joyous hold a flesh-day,—to my fatherServed up a meal, the flesh of his own children.The feet indeed and the hands' top divisionsHe hid, high up and isolated sitting:But, their unshowing parts in ignorance taking,He forthwith eats food—as thou seest—perditionTo the race: and then, 'ware of the deed ill-omened,He shrieked O!—falls back, vomiting, from the carnage,And fate on the Pelopidai past hearingHe prays down—putting in his curse togetherThe kicking down o' the feast—that so might perishThe race of Pleisthenes entire: and thence isThat it is given thee to see this man prostrate.And I was rightly of this slaughter stitch-man:Since me,—being third from ten,—with my poor fatherHe drives out—being then a babe in swathe-bands:But, grown up, back again has justice brought me:And of this man I got hold—being without-doors—Fitting together the whole scheme of ill-will.So, sweet, in fine, even to die were to me,Seeing as I have, this man i' the toils of justice!
Aigisthos.O light propitious of day justice-bringing!
I may say truly, now, that men's avengers,
The gods from high, of earth behold the sorrows—
Seeing, as I have, i' the spun robes of the Erinues,
This man here lying,—sight to me how pleasant!—
His father's hands' contrivances repaying.
For Atreus, this land's lord, of this man father,
Thuestes, my own father—to speak clearly—
His brother too,—being i' the rule contested,—
Drove forth to exile from both town and household:
And, coming back, to the hearth turned, a suppliant,
Wretched Thuestes found the fate assured him
—Not to die, bloodying his paternal threshold
Just there: but host-wise this man's impious father
Atreus, soul-keenly more than kindly,—seeming
To joyous hold a flesh-day,—to my father
Served up a meal, the flesh of his own children.
The feet indeed and the hands' top divisions
He hid, high up and isolated sitting:
But, their unshowing parts in ignorance taking,
He forthwith eats food—as thou seest—perdition
To the race: and then, 'ware of the deed ill-omened,
He shrieked O!—falls back, vomiting, from the carnage,
And fate on the Pelopidai past hearing
He prays down—putting in his curse together
The kicking down o' the feast—that so might perish
The race of Pleisthenes entire: and thence is
That it is given thee to see this man prostrate.
And I was rightly of this slaughter stitch-man:
Since me,—being third from ten,—with my poor father
He drives out—being then a babe in swathe-bands:
But, grown up, back again has justice brought me:
And of this man I got hold—being without-doors—
Fitting together the whole scheme of ill-will.
So, sweet, in fine, even to die were to me,
Seeing as I have, this man i' the toils of justice!
Cho.Aigisthos, arrogance in ills I love not.Dost thou say—willing, thou didst kill the man here,And, alone, plot this lamentable slaughter?I say—thy head in justice will escape notThe people's throwing—know that!—stones and curses!
Cho.Aigisthos, arrogance in ills I love not.
Dost thou say—willing, thou didst kill the man here,
And, alone, plot this lamentable slaughter?
I say—thy head in justice will escape not
The people's throwing—know that!—stones and curses!
Aig.Thou such things soundest—seated at the lowerOarage to those who rule at the ship's mid-bench?Thou shalt know, being old, how heavy is teachingTo one of the like age—bidden be modest!But chains and old age and the pangs of fastingStand out before all else in teaching,—prophetsAt souls'-cure! Dost not, seeing aught, see this too?Against goads kick not, lest tript-up thou suffer!
Aig.Thou such things soundest—seated at the lower
Oarage to those who rule at the ship's mid-bench?
Thou shalt know, being old, how heavy is teaching
To one of the like age—bidden be modest!
But chains and old age and the pangs of fasting
Stand out before all else in teaching,—prophets
At souls'-cure! Dost not, seeing aught, see this too?
Against goads kick not, lest tript-up thou suffer!
Cho.Woman, thou,—of him coming new from battleHouseguard—thy husband's bed the while disgracing,—For the Army-leader didst thou plan this fate too?
Cho.Woman, thou,—of him coming new from battle
Houseguard—thy husband's bed the while disgracing,—
For the Army-leader didst thou plan this fate too?
Aig.These words too are of groans the prime-begetters!Truly a tongue opposed to Orpheus hast thou:For he led all things by his voice's grace-charm,But thou, upstirring them by these wild yelpings,Wilt lead them! Forced, thou wilt appear the tamer!
Aig.These words too are of groans the prime-begetters!
Truly a tongue opposed to Orpheus hast thou:
For he led all things by his voice's grace-charm,
But thou, upstirring them by these wild yelpings,
Wilt lead them! Forced, thou wilt appear the tamer!
Cho.So—thou shalt be my king then of the Argeians—Who, not when for this man his fate thou plannedst,Daredst to do this deed—thyself the slayer!
Cho.So—thou shalt be my king then of the Argeians—
Who, not when for this man his fate thou plannedst,
Daredst to do this deed—thyself the slayer!
Aig.For, to deceive him was the wife's part, certes:Iwas looked after—foe, ay, old-begotten!But out of this man's wealth will I endeavorTo rule the citizens: and the no-man-minder—Him will I heavily yoke—by no means trace-horse,A corned-up colt! but that bad friend in darkness,Famine its housemate, shall behold him gentle.
Aig.For, to deceive him was the wife's part, certes:
Iwas looked after—foe, ay, old-begotten!
But out of this man's wealth will I endeavor
To rule the citizens: and the no-man-minder
—Him will I heavily yoke—by no means trace-horse,
A corned-up colt! but that bad friend in darkness,
Famine its housemate, shall behold him gentle.
Cho.Why then, this man here, from a coward spirit,Didst not thou slay thyself? But,—helped,—a woman,The country's pest, and that of gods o' the country,Killed him! Orestes, where may he see light now?That coming hither back, with gracious fortune,Of both these he may be the all-conquering slayer?
Cho.Why then, this man here, from a coward spirit,
Didst not thou slay thyself? But,—helped,—a woman,
The country's pest, and that of gods o' the country,
Killed him! Orestes, where may he see light now?
That coming hither back, with gracious fortune,
Of both these he may be the all-conquering slayer?
Aig.But since this to do thou thinkest—and not talk—thou soon shalt know!Up then, comrades dear! the proper thing to do—not distant this!
Aig.But since this to do thou thinkest—and not talk—thou soon shalt know!
Up then, comrades dear! the proper thing to do—not distant this!
Cho.Up then! hilt in hold, his sword let every one aright dispose!
Cho.Up then! hilt in hold, his sword let every one aright dispose!
Aig.Ay, but I myself too, hilt in hold, do not refuse to die!
Aig.Ay, but I myself too, hilt in hold, do not refuse to die!
Cho.Thou wilt die, thou say'st, to who accept it. We the chance demand!
Cho.Thou wilt die, thou say'st, to who accept it. We the chance demand!
Klu.Nowise, O belovedest of men, may we do other ills!To have reaped away these, even, is a harvest much to me!Go, both thou and these the old men, to the homes appointed each,Ere ye suffer! It behooved one do these things just as we did:And if of these troubles, there should be enough—we may assent—By the Daimon's heavy heel unfortunately stricken ones!So a woman's counsel hath it—if one judge it learning-worth.
Klu.Nowise, O belovedest of men, may we do other ills!
To have reaped away these, even, is a harvest much to me!
Go, both thou and these the old men, to the homes appointed each,
Ere ye suffer! It behooved one do these things just as we did:
And if of these troubles, there should be enough—we may assent
—By the Daimon's heavy heel unfortunately stricken ones!
So a woman's counsel hath it—if one judge it learning-worth.
Aig.But to think that these at me the idle tongue should thus o'erbloom,And throw out such words—the Daimon's power experimenting on—And, of modest knowledge missing,—me, the ruler,...
Aig.But to think that these at me the idle tongue should thus o'erbloom,
And throw out such words—the Daimon's power experimenting on—
And, of modest knowledge missing,—me, the ruler,...
Cho.Ne'er may this befall Argeians—wicked man to fawn before!
Cho.Ne'er may this befall Argeians—wicked man to fawn before!
Aig.Anyhow, in after-days, will I, yes, I, be at thee yet!
Aig.Anyhow, in after-days, will I, yes, I, be at thee yet!
Cho.Not if hither should the Daimon make Orestes straightway come!
Cho.Not if hither should the Daimon make Orestes straightway come!
Aig.Oh, I know, myself, that fugitives on hopes are pasture-fed!
Aig.Oh, I know, myself, that fugitives on hopes are pasture-fed!
Cho.Do thy deed, get fat, defiling justice, since the power is thine!
Cho.Do thy deed, get fat, defiling justice, since the power is thine!
Aig.Know that thou shalt give me satisfaction for this folly's sake!
Aig.Know that thou shalt give me satisfaction for this folly's sake!
Cho.Boast on, bearing thee audacious, like a cock his females by!
Cho.Boast on, bearing thee audacious, like a cock his females by!
Klu.Have not thou respect for these same idle yelpings! I and thouWill arrange it, o'er this household ruling excellently well.
Klu.Have not thou respect for these same idle yelpings! I and thou
Will arrange it, o'er this household ruling excellently well.