THE FURIES

THE FURIESDRAMATIS PERSONAETHE PYTHIAN PRIESTESSAPOLLOORESTESTHE GHOST OF CLYTEMNESTRACHORUS OF FURIESATHENAATTENDANTS OF ATHENATWELVE ATHENIAN CITIZENSThe Scene of the Drama is the Temple of Apollo, at Delphi: afterwards the Temple of Athena, on the Acropolis of Athens, and the adjoining Areopagus.The Temple at DelphiThe Pythian PriestessFirst, in this prayer, of all the gods I nameThe prophet-mother Earth; and Themis next,Second who sat—for so with truth is said—On this her mother’s shrine oracular.Then by her grace, who unconstrained allowed,There sat thereon another child of Earth—Titanian Phoebe. She, in after time,Gave o’er the throne, as birthgift to a god,Phoebus, who in his own bears Phoebe’s name.He from the lake and ridge of Delos’ isleSteered to the port of Pallas’ Attic shores,The home of ships; and thence he passed and cameUnto this land and to Parnassus’ shrine.And at his side, with awe revering him,There went the children of Hephaestus’ seed,The hewers of the sacred way, who tameThe stubborn tract that erst was wilderness.And all this folk, and Delphos, chieftain-kingOf this their land, with honour gave him home;And in his breast Zeus set a prophet’s soul,And gave to him this throne, whereon he sits,Fourth prophet of the shrine, and, Loxias hight,Gives voice to that which Zeus his sire decrees.Such gods I name in my preluding prayer,And after them, I call with honour dueOn Pallas, wardress of the fane, and NymphsWho dwell around the rock Corycian,Where in the hollow cave, the wild birds’ haunt,Wander the feet of lesser gods; and there,Right well I know it, Bromian Bacchus dwells,Since he in godship led his Maenad host,Devising death for Pentheus, whom they rentPiecemeal, as hare among the hounds. And last,I call on Pleistus’ springs, Poseidon’s might,And Zeus most high, the great Accomplisher.Then as a seeress to the sacred chairI pass and sit; and may the powers divineMake this mine entrance fruitful in responseBeyond each former advent, triply blest.And if there stand without, from Hellas bound,Men seeking oracles, let each pass inIn order of the lot, as use allows;For the god guides whate’er my tongue proclaims.[She goes into the interior of the temple; after a short interval, she returns in great fear.Things fell to speak of, fell for eyes to see,Have sped me forth again from Loxias’ shrine,With strength unstrung, moving erect no more,But aiding with my hands my failing feet,Unnerved by fear. A beldame’s force is naught—Is as a child’s, when age and fear combine.For as I pace towards the inmost faneBay-filleted by many a suppliant’s hand,Lo, at the central altar I descryOne crouching as for refuge—yea, a manAbhorredd of heaven; and from his hands, whereinA sword new-drawn he holds, blood reeked and fell:A wand he bears, the olive’s topmost bough,Twined as of purpose with a deep close tuftOf whitest wool. This, that I plainly saw,Plainly I tell. But lo, in front of him,Crouched on the altar-steps, a grisly bandOf women slumbers—not like women they,But Gorgons rather; nay, that word is weak,Nor may I match the Gorgons’ shape with theirs!Such have I seen in painted semblance erst—Winged Harpies, snatching food from Phineus’ board,—But these are wingless, black, and all their shapeThe eye’s abomination to behold.Fell is the breath—let none draw nigh to it—Wherewith they snort in slumber; from their eyesExude the damnèd drops of poisonous ire:And such their garb as none should dare to bringTo statues of the gods or homes of men.I wot not of the tribe wherefrom can comeSo fell a legion, nor in what land EarthCould rear, unharmed, such creatures, nor avowThat she had travailed and brought forth death.But, for the rest, be all these things a careUnto the mighty Loxias, the lordOf this our shrine: healer and prophet he,Discerner he of portents, and the cleanserOf other homes—behold, his own to cleanse![Exit.[The scene opens, disclosing the interior of the temple: Orestes clings to the central altar; the Furies lie slumbering at a little distance; Apollo and Hermes appear from the innermost shrine.APOLLOLo, I desert thee never: to the end,Hard at thy side as now, or sundered far,I am thy guard, and to thine enemiesImplacably oppose me: look on them,These greedy fiends, beneath my craft subdued!See, they are fallen on sleep, these beldames old,Unto whose grim and wizened maidenhoodNor god nor man nor beast can e’er draw near.Yea, evil were they born, for evil’s doom,Evil the dark abyss of TartarusWherein they dwell, and they themselves the hateOf men on earth, and of Olympian gods.But thou, flee far and with unfaltering speed;For they shall hunt thee through the mainland wideWhere’er throughout the tract of travelled earthThy foot may roam, and o’er and o’er the seasAnd island homes of men. Faint not nor fail,Too soon and timidly within thy breastShepherding thoughts forlorn of this thy toil;But unto Pallas’ city go, and thereCrouch at her shrine, and in thine arms enfoldHer ancient image: there we well shall findMeet judges for this cause and suasive pleas,Skilled to contrive for thee deliveranceFrom all this woe. Be such my pledge to thee,For by my hest thou didst thy mother slay.ORESTESO king Apollo, since right well thou know’stWhat justice bids, have heed, fulfil the same,—Thy strength is all-sufficient to achieve.APOLLOHave thou too heed, nor let thy fear prevailAbove thy will. And do thou guard him, Hermes,Whose blood is brother unto mine, whose sireThe same high God. Men call thee guide and guard,Guide therefore thou and guard my suppliant;For Zeus himself reveres the outlaw’s right,Boon of fair escort, upon man conferred.[Exeunt Apollo, Hermes, and Orestes. The Ghost of Clytemnestra nearGHOST OF CLYTEMNESTRASleep on! awake! what skills your sleep to me—Me, among all the dead by you dishonoured—Me from whom never, in the world of death,Dieth this curse,’Tis she who smote and slew,And shamed and scorned I roam? Awake, and hearMy plaint of dead men’s hate intolerable.Me, sternly slain by them that should have loved,Me doth no god arouse him to avenge,Hewn down in blood by matricidal hands.Mark ye these wounds from which the heart’s blood ran,And by whose hand, bethink ye! for the senseWhen shut in sleep hath then the spirit-sight,But in the day the inward eye is blind.List, ye who drank so oft with lapping tongueThe wineless draught by me outpoured to sootheYour vengeful ire! how oft on kindled shrineI laid the feast of darkness, at the hourAbhorred of every god but you alone!Lo, all my service trampled down and scorned!And he hath baulked your chase, as stag the hounds;Yea, lightly bounding from the circling toils,Hath wried his face in scorn, and flieth far.Awake and hear—for mine own soul I cry—Awake, ye powers of hell! the wandering ghostThat once was Clytemnestra calls—Arise![The Furies mutter grimly, as in a dream.Mutter and murmur! He hath flown afar— My kin have gods to guard them, I have none![The Furies mutter as before.O drowsed in sleep too deep to heed my pain!Orestes flies, who me, his mother, slew.[The Furies give a confused cry.Yelping, and drowsed again? Up and be doingThat which alone is yours, the deed of hell![The Furies give another cry.Lo, sleep and toil, the sworn confederates,Have quelled your dragon-anger, once so fell!THE FURIES(muttering more fiercely and loudly)Seize, seize, seize, seize—mark, yonder!GHOSTIn dreams ye chase a prey, and like some hound,That even in sleep doth ply his woodland toil,Ye bell and bay. What do ye, sleeping here?Be not o’ercome with toil, nor sleep-subdued,Be heedless of my wrong. Up! thrill your heartWith the just chidings of my tongue,—such wordsAre as a spur to purpose firmly held.Blow forth on him the breath of wrath and blood,Scorch him with reek of fire that burns in you,Waste him with new pursuit—swift, hound him down![Ghost sinks.FIRST FURY(awaking)Up! rouse another as I rouse thee; up!Sleep’st thou? Rise up, and spurning sleep away,See we if false to us this prelude rang.CHORUS OF FURIESAlack, alack, O sisters, we have toiled,O much and vainly have we toiled and borne!Vainly! and all we wrought the gods have foiled,And turnèd us to scorn!He hath slipped from the net, whom we chased: hehath ’scaped us who should be our prey—O’ermastered by slumber we sank, and our quarry hath stolen away!Thou, child of the high God Zeus, Apollo, hast robbed us and wronged;Thou, a youth, hast down-trodden the right that is godship more ancient belonged;Thou hast cherished thy suppliant man; the slayer the God-forsaken,The bane of a parent, by craft from out of our grasp thou hast taken:A god, thou hast stolen from us the avengers a matricide son—And who shall consider thy deed and say,It is rightfullydone?The sound of chiding scornCame from the land of dream;Deep to mine inmost heart I felt it thrill and burn,Thrust as a strong-grasped goad, to urgeOnward the chariot’s team.Thrilled, chilled with bitter inward painI stand as one beneath the doomsman’s scourge.Shame on the younger gods who tread down right,Sitting on thrones of might!Woe on the altar of earth’s central fane!Clotted on step and shrine,Behold, the guilt of blood, the ghastly stain!Woe upon thee, Apollo! uncontrolled,Unbidden, hast thou, prophet-god, imbruedThe pure prophetic shrine with wrongful blood!For thou too heinous a respect didst holdOf man, too little heed of powers divine!And us the Fates, the ancients of the earth,Didst deem as nothing worth.Scornful to me thou art, yet shalt not fendMy wrath from him; though unto hell he flee,There too are we!And he the blood defiled, should feel and rue,Though I were not, fiend-wrath that shall not end,Descending on his head who foully slew.[Re-enter Apollo from the inner shrine.APOLLOOut! I command you. Out from this my home—Haste, tarry not! Out from the mystic shrine,Lest thy lot be to take into thy breastThe winged bright dart that from my golden stringSpeeds hissing as a snake,—lest, pierced and thrilledWith agony, thou shouldst spew forth againBlack frothy heart’s-blood, drawn from mortal men,Belching the gory clots sucked forth from wounds.These be no halls where such as you can prowl—Go where men lay on men the doom of blood,Heads lopped from necks, eyes from their spheres plucked out,Hacked flesh, the flower of youthful seed crushed out,Feet hewn away, and hands, and death beneathThe smiting stone, low moans and piteousOf men impaled—Hark, hear ye for what feastYe hanker ever, and the loathing godsDo spit upon your craving? Lo, your shapeIs all too fitted to your greed; the caveWhere lurks some lion, lapping gore, were homeMore meet for you. Avaunt from sacred shrines,Nor bring pollution by your touch on allThat nears you. Hence! and roam unshepherded—No god there is to tend such herd as you.CHORUSO king Apollo, in our turn hear us.Thou hast’not only part in these ill things,But art chief cause and doer of the same.APOLLOHow? stretch thy speech to tell this, and have done.CHORUSThine oracle bade this man slay his mother.APOLLOI bade him quit his sire’s death,—wherefore not?CHORUSThen didst thou aid and guard red-handed crime.APOLLOYea, and I bade him to this temple flee.CHORUSAnd yet forsooth dost chide us following him!APOLLOAy—not for you it is, to near this fane.CHORUSYet is such office ours, imposed by fate.APOLLOWhat office? vaunt the thing ye deem so fair.CHORUSFrom home to home we chase the matricide.APOLLOWhat? to avenge a wife who slays her lord?CHORUSThat is not blood outpoured by kindred hands.APOLLOHow darkly ye dishonour and annulThe troth to which the high accomplishers,Hera and Zeus, do honour. Yea, and thusIs Aphrodite to dishonour cast,The queen of rapture unto mortal men.Know, that above the marriage-bed ordainedFor man and woman standeth Right as guard,Enhancing sanctity of troth-plight sworn;Therefore, if thou art placable to thoseWho have their consort slain, nor will’st to turnOn them the eye of wrath, unjust art thouIn hounding to his doom the man who slewHis mother. Lo, I know thee full of wrathAgainst one deed, but all too placableUnto the other, minishing the crime.But in this cause shall Pallas guard the right.CHORUSDeem not my quest shall ever quit that man.APOLLOFollow then, make thee double toil in vain!CHORUSThink not by speech mine office to curtail.APOLLONone hast thou, that I would accept of thee!CHORUSYea, high thine honour by the throne of Zeus:But I, drawn on by scent of mother’s blood,Seek vengeance on this man and hound him down.APOLLOBut I will stand beside him; ’tis for meTo guard my suppliant: gods and men alikeDo dread the curse of such an one betrayed,And in me Fear and Will sayLeave him not.[Exeunt omnesThe scene changes to Athens. In the foreground, the Temple of Athena on the Acropolis; her statue stands in the centre; Orestes is seen clinging to it.ORESTESLook on me, queen Athena; lo, I comeBy Loxias’ behest; thou of thy graceReceive me, driven of avenging powers—Not now a red-hand slayer unannealed,But with guilt fading, half-effaced, outwornOn many homes and paths of mortal men.For to the limit of each land, each sea,I roamed, obedient to Apollo’s hest,And come at last, O Goddess, to thy fane,And clinging to thine image, bide my doom.[Enter the Chorus of Furies, questing like houndsCHORUSHo! clear is here the trace of him we seek:Follow the track of blood, the silent sign!Like to some hound that hunts a wounded fawn,We snuff along the scent of dripping gore,And inwardly we pant, for many a dayToiling in chase that shall fordo the man;For o’er and o’er the wide land have I ranged,And o’er the wide sea, flying without wings,Swift as a sail I pressed upon his track,Who now hard by is crouching, well I wot,For scent of mortal blood allures me here.Follow, seek him—round and roundScent and snuff and scan the ground,Lest unharmed he slip away,He who did his mother slay!Hist—he is there! See him his arms entwineAround the image of the maid divine—Thus aided, for the deed he wroughtUnto the judgment wills he to be brought.It may not be! a mother’s blood, poured forthUpon the stainèd earth,None gathers up: it lies—bear witness, Hell!—For aye indelible!And thou who sheddest it shalt give thine ownThat shedding to atone!Yea, from thy living limbs I suck it out,Red, clotted, gout by gout,—A draught abhorred of men and gods; but IWill drain it, suck thee dry;Yea, I will waste thee living, nerve and vein;Yea, for thy mother slain,Will drag thee downward, there where thou shalt dreeThe weird of agony!And thou and whatsoe’er of men hath sinned—Hath wronged or God, or friend,Or parent,—learn ye how to all and eachThe arm of doom can reach!Sternly requiteth, in the world beneath,The judgment-seat of Death;Yea, Death, beholding every man’s endeavourRecordeth it for ever.ORESTESI, schooled in many miseries, have learntHow many refuges of cleansing shrinesThere be; I know when law alloweth speechAnd when imposeth silence. Lo, I standFixed now to speak, for he whose word is wiseCommands the same. Look, how the stain of bloodIs dull upon mine hand and wastes away,And laved and lost therewith is the deep curseOf matricide; for while the guilt was new,’Twas banished from me at Apollo’s hearth,Atoned and purified by death of swine.Long were my word if I should sum the tale,How oft since then among my fellow-menI stood and brought no curse. Time cleanses all—Time, the coeval of all things that are.Now from pure lips, in words of omen fair,I call Athena, lady of this land,To come, my champion: so, in aftertime,She shall not fail of love and service leal,Not won by war, from me and from my land,And all the folk of Argos, vowed to her.Now, be she far away in Libyan landWhere flows from Triton’s lake her natal wave,—Stand she with planted feet, or in some hourOf rest conceal them, champion of her friendsWhere’er she be,—or whether o’er the plainPhlegraean she look forth, as warrior bold—I cry to her to come, where’er she be,(And she, as goddess, from afar can hear,)And aid and free me, set among my foes.CHORUSThee not Apollo nor Athena’s strengthCan save from perishing, a castawayAmid the Lost, where no delight shall meetThy soul—a bloodless prey of nether powers,A shadow among shadows. Answerest thouNothing? dost cast away my words with scorn,Thou, prey prepared and dedicate to me?Not as a victim slain upon the shrine,But living shalt thou see thy flesh my food.Hear now the binding chant that makes thee mine.Weave the weird dance,—behold the hourTo utter forth the chant of hell,Our sway among mankind to tell,The guidance of our power.Of Justice are we ministers,And whosoe’er of men may standLifting a pure unsullied hand,That man no doom of ours incurs,And walks thro’ all his mortal pathUntouched by woe, unharmed by wrath.But if, as yonder man, he hathBlood on the hands he strives to hide,We stand avengers at his side,Decreeing,Thou hast wronged the dead:We are doom’s witnesses to thee.The price of blood, his hands have shed,We wring from him; in life, in death,Hard at his side are we!Night, Mother Night, who brought me forth, a tormentTo living men and dead,Hear me, O hear! by Leto’s stripling sonI am dishonourèd:He hath ta’en from me him who cowers in refuge,To me made consecrate,—A rightful victim, him who slew his mother.Given o’er to me and fate.Hear the hymn of hell,O’er the victim sounding,—Chant of frenzy, chant of ill,Sense and will confounding!Round the soul entwiningWithout lute or lyre—Soul in madness pining,Wasting as with fire!Fate, all-pervading Fate, this service spun, commandingThat I should bide therein:Whosoe’er of mortals, made perverse and lawless,Is stained with blood of kin,By his side are we, and hunt him ever onward,Till to the Silent Land,The realm of death, he cometh; neither yonderIn freedom shall he stand.Hear the hymn of hell,O’er the victim sounding,—Chant of frenzy, chant of ill,Sense and will confounding!Round the soul entwiningWithout lute or lyre—Soul in madness pining,Wasting as with fire!When from womb of Night we sprang, on us this labourWas laid and shall abide.Gods immortal are ye, yet beware ye touch notThat which is our pride!None may come beside us gathered round the blood feast—For us no garments whiteGleam on a festal day; for us a darker fate is,Another darker rite.That is mine hour when falls an ancient line—When in the household’s heartThe god of blood doth slay by kindred hands,—Then do we bear our part:On him who slays we sweep with chasing cry:Though he be triply strong,We wear and waste him; blood atones for blood,New pain for ancient wrong.I hold this task—’tis mine, and not another’s.The very gods on high,Though they can silence and annul the prayersOf those who on us cry,They may not strive with us who stand apart,A race by Zeus abhorred,Blood-boltered, held unworthy of the councilAnd converse of Heaven’s lord.Therefore the more I leap upon my prey;Upon their head I bound;My foot is hard; as one that trips a runnerI cast them to the ground;Yea, to the depth of doom intolerable;And they who erst were great,And upon earth held high their pride and glory,Are brought to low estate.In underworld they waste and are diminished,The while around them fleetDark wavings of my robes, and, subtly woven,The paces of my feet.Who falls infatuate, he sees not, neither knows heThat we are at his side;So closely round about him, darkly flitting,The cloud of guilt doth glide.Heavily ’tis uttered, how around his hearthstoneThe mirk of hell doth rise.Stern and fixed the law is; we have hands t’achieve it,Cunning to devise.Queens are we and mindful of our solemn vengeance.Not by tear or prayerShall a man avert it. In unhonoured darkness,Far from gods, we fare,Lit unto our task with torch of sunless regions,And o’er a deadly way—Deadly to the living as to those who see notLife and light of day—Hunt we and press onward. Who of mortals hearingDoth not quake for awe,Hearing all that Fate thro’ hand of God hath given usFor ordinance and law?Yea, this right to us, in dark abysm and backwardOf ages it befel:None shall wrong mine office, tho’ in nether regionsAnd sunless dark I dwell.[Enter Athena from above.ATHENAFar off I heard the clamour of your cry,As by Scamander’s side I set my footAsserting right upon the land given o’erTo me by those who o’er Achaia’s hostHeld sway and leadership: no scanty partOf all they won by spear and sword, to meThey gave it, land and all that grew theron,As chosen heirloom for my Theseus’ clan.Thence summoned, sped I with a tireless foot,—Hummed on the wind, instead of wings, the foldOf this mine aegis, by my feet propelled,As, linked to mettled horses, speeds a car.And now, beholding here Earth’s nether brood,I fear it nought, yet are mine eyes amazedWith wonder. Who are ye? of all I ask,And of this stranger to my statue clinging.But ye—your shape is like no human form,Like to no goddess whom the gods behold,Like to no shape which mortal women wear.Yet to stand by and chide a monstrous formIs all unjust—from such words Right revolts.CHORUSO child of Zeus, one word shall tell thee all.We are the children of eternal Night,And Furies in the underworld are called.ATHENAI know your lineage now and eke your name.CHORUSYea, and eftsoons indeed my rights shalt know.ATHENAFain would I learn them; speak them clearly forth.CHORUSWe chase from home the murderers of men.ATHENAAnd where at last can he that slew make pause?CHORUSWhere this is law—All joy abandon here.ATHENASay, do ye bay this man to such a flight?CHORUSYea, for of choice he did his mother slay.ATHENAUrged by no fear of other wrath and doom?CHORUSWhat spur can rightly goad to matricide?ATHENATwo stand to plead—one only have I heard.CHORUSHe will not swear nor challenge us to oath.ATHENAThe form of justice, not its deed, thou willest.CHORUSProve thou that word; thou art not scant of skill.ATHENAI say that oaths shall not enforce the wrong.CHORUSThen test the cause, judge and award the right.ATHENAWill ye to me then this decision trust?CHORUSYea, reverencing true child of worthy sire.ATHENA(to Orestes)O man unknown, make thou thy plea in turn.Speak forth thy land, thy lineage, and thy woes;Then, if thou canst, avert this bitter blame—If, as I deem, in confidence of rightThou sittest hard beside my holy place,Clasping this statue, as Ixion sat,A sacred suppliant for Zeus to cleanse,—To all this answer me in words made plain.ORESTESO queen Athena, first from thy last wordsWill I a great solicitude remove.Not one blood-guilty am I; no foul stainClings to thine image from my clinging hand;Whereof one potent proof I have to tell.Lo, the law stands—The slayer shall not plead,Till by the hand of him who cleanses bloodA suckling creature’s blood besprinkle him.Long since have I this expiation done,—In many a home, slain beasts and running streamsHave cleansed me. Thus I speak away that fear.Next, of my lineage quickly thou shalt learn:An Argive am I, and right well thou know’stMy sire, that Agamemnon who arrayedThe fleet and them that went therein to war—That chief with whom thy hand combined to crushTo an uncitied heap what once was Troy;That Agamemnon, when he homeward came,Was brought unto no honourable death,Slain by the dark-souled wife who brought me forthTo him,—enwound and slain in wily nets,Blazoned with blood that in the laver ran.And I, returning from an exiled youth,Slew her, my mother—lo, it stands avowed!With blood for blood avenging my loved sire;And in this deed doth Loxias bear part,Decreeing agonies, to goad my will,Unless by me the guilty found their doom.Do thou decide if right or wrong were done—Thy dooming, whatsoe’er it be, contents me.ATHENAToo mighty is this matter, whatsoe’erOf mortals claims to judge hereof aright.Yea, me, even me, eternal Right forbidsTo judge the issues of blood-guilt, and wrathThat follows swift behind. This too gives pause,That thou as one with all due rites performedDost come, unsinning, pure, unto my shrine.Whate’er thou art, in this my city’s name,As uncondemned, I take thee to my side,—Yet have these foes of thine such dues by fate,I may not banish them: and if they fail,O’erthrown in judgment of the cause, forthwithTheir anger’s poison shall infect the land—A dropping plague-spot of eternal ill.Thus stand we with a woe on either hand:Stay they, or go at my commandment forth,Perplexity or pain must needs befall.Yet, as on me Fate hath imposed the cause,I choose unto me judges that shall beAn ordinance for ever, set to ruleThe dues of blood-guilt, upon oath declared.But ye, call forth your witness and your proof,Words strong for justice, fortified by oath;And I, whoe’er are truest in my town,Them will I chose and bring, and straitly charge,Look on this cause, discriminating well,And pledge your oath to utter nought of wrong.[Exit Athena.CHORUSNow are they all undone, the ancient laws,If here the slayer’s causePrevail; new wrong for ancient right shall beIf matricide go free.Henceforth a deed like his by all shall stand,Too ready to the hand:Too oft shall parents in the aftertimeRue and lament this crime,—Taught, not in false imagining, to feelTheir children’s thrusting steel:No more the wrath, that erst on murder fellFrom us, the queens of Hell.Shall fall, no more our watching gaze impend—Death shall smite unrestrained.Henceforth shall one unto another cryLo, they are stricken, lo, they fall and dieAround me!and that other answers him,O thou that lookest that thy woes should cease,Behold, with dark increaseThey throng and press upon thee; yea, and dimIs all the cure, and every comfort vain!Let none henceforth cry out, when falls the blowOf sudden-smiting woe,Cry out in sad reiterated strainO Justice, aid! aid, O ye thrones of Hell!So though a father or a mother wailNew-smitten by a son, it shall no more avail,Since, overthrown by wrong, the fane of Justice fell!Know, that a throne there is that may not pass away,And one that sitteth on it—even Fear,Searching with steadfast eyes man’s inner soul:Wisdom is child of pain, and born with many a tear;But who henceforth,What man of mortal men, what nation upon earth,That holdeth nought in awe nor in the lightOf inner reverence, shall worship RightAs in the older day?Praise not, O man, the life beyond control,Nor that which bows unto a tyrant’s sway.Know that the middle wayIs dearest unto God, and they thereon who wend,They shall achieve the end;But they who wander or to left or rightAre sinners in his sight.Take to thy heart this one, this soothfast word—Of wantonness impiety is sire;Only from calm control and sanity unstirredCometh true weal, the goal of every man’s desire.Yea, whatsoe’er befall, hold thou this word of mine:Bow down at Justice’ shrine,Turn thou thine eyes away from earthly lure,Nor with a godless foot that altar spurn.For as thou dost shall Fate do in return,And the great doom is sure.Therefore let each adore a parent’s trust,And each with loyalty revere the guestThat in his halls doth rest.For whoso uncompelled doth follow what is just,He ne’er shall be unblest;Yea, never to the gulf of doomThat man shall come.But he whose will is set against the gods,Who treads beyond the law with foot impure,Till o’er the wreck of Right confusion broods—Know that for him, though now he sail secure,The day of storm shall be; then shall he strive and fail,Down from the shivered yard to furl the sail,And call on Powers, that heed him nought, to saveAnd vainly wrestle with the whirling wave,Hot was his heart with pride—I shall not fall, he cried.But him with watching scornThe god beholds, forlorn,Tangled in toils of Fate beyond escape,Hopeless of haven safe beyond the cape—Till all his wealth and bliss of bygone dayUpon the reef of Rightful Doom is hurled,And he is rapt awayUnwept, for ever, to the dead forgotten world.[Re-enter Athena, with twelve Athenian citizens.ATHENAO herald, make proclaim, bid all men come.Then let the shrill blast of the Tyrrhene trump,Fulfilled with mortal breath, thro’ the wide airPeal a loud summons, bidding all men heed.For, till my judges fill this judgment-seat,Silence behoves,—that this whole city learn,What for all time mine ordinance commands,And these men, that the cause be judged aright.[Apollo approaches.CHORUSO king Apollo, rule what is thine own,But in this thing what share pertains to thee?APOLLOFirst, as a witness come I, for this manIs suppliant of mine by sacred right,Guest of my holy hearth and cleansed by meOf blood-guilt: then, to set me at his sideAnd in his cause bear part, as part I boreErst in his deed, whereby his mother fell.Let whoso knoweth now announce the cause.ATHENA(to the Chorus)’Tis I announce the cause—first speech be yours;For rightfully shall they whose plaint is triedTell the tale first and set the matter clear.CHORUSThough we be many, brief shall be our tale.(To Orestes) Answer thou, setting word to match with word;And first avow—hast thou thy mother slain?ORESTESI slew her. I deny no word hereof.CHORUSThree falls decide the wrestle—this is one.ORESTESThou vauntest thee—but o’er no final fall.CHORUSYet must thou tell the manner of thy deed.ORESTESDrawn sword in hand, I gashed her neck. ’Tis told.CHORUSBut by whose word, whose craft, wert thou impelled?ORESTESBy oracles of him who here attests me.CHORUSThe prophet-god bade thee thy mother slay?ORESTESYea, and thro’ him less ill I fared, till now.CHORUSIf the vote grip thee, thou shalt change that word.ORESTESStrong is my hope; my buried sire shall aid.CHORUSGo to now, trust the dead, a matricide!ORESTESYea, for in her combined two stains of sin.CHORUSHow? speak this clearly to the judges’ mind.ORESTESSlaying her husband, she did slay my sire.CHORUSTherefore thou livest; death assoils her deed.ORESTESThen while she lived why didst thou hunt her not?CHORUSShe was not kin by blood to him she slew.ORESTESAnd I, am I by blood my mother’s kin?CHORUSO cursed with murder’s guilt, how else wert thouThe burden of her womb? Dost thou forswearThy mother’s kinship, closest bond of love?ORESTESIt is thine hour, Apollo—speak the law,Averring if this deed were justly done;For done it is, and clear and undenied.But if to thee this murder’s cause seem rightOr wrongful, speak—that I to these may tell.APOLLOTo you, Athena’s mighty council-court,Justly for justice will I plead, even I,The prophet-god, nor cheat you by one word.For never spake I from my prophet-seatOne word, of man, of woman, or of state,Save what the Father of Olympian godsCommanded unto me. I rede you then,Bethink you of my plea, how strong it stands,And follow the decree of Zeus our sire,—For oaths prevail not over Zeus’ command.CHORUSGo to; thou sayest that from Zeus befelThe oracle that this Orestes badeWith vengeance quit the slaying of his sire,And hold as nought his mother’s right of kin!APOLLOYea, for it stands not with a common death,That he should die, a chieftain and a kingDecked with the sceptre which high heaven confers—Die, and by female hands, not smitten downBy a far-shooting bow, held stalwartlyBy some strong Amazon. Another doomWas his: O Pallas, hear, and ye who sitIn judgment, to discern this thing aright!—She with a specious voice of welcome trueHailed him, returning from the mighty martWhere war for life gives fame, triumphant home;Then o’er the laver, as he bathed himself,She spread from head to foot a covering net,And in the endless mesh of cunning robesEnwound and trapped her lord, and smote him down.Lo, ye have heard what doom this chieftain met,The majesty of Greece, the fleet’s high lord:Such as I tell it, let it gall your ears,Who stand as judges to decide this cause.CHORUSZeus, as thou sayest, holds a father’s deathAs first of crimes,—yet he of his own actCast into chains his father, Cronos old:How suits that deed with that which now ye tell?O ye who judge, I bid ye mark my words!APOLLOO monsters loathed of all, O scorn of gods,He that hath bound may loose: a cure there is,Yea, many a plan that can unbind the chain.But when the thirsty dust sucks up man’s bloodOnce shed in death, he shall arise no more.No chant nor charm for this my Sire hath wrought.All else there is, he moulds and shifts at will,Not scant of strength nor breath, whate’er he do.CHORUSThink yet, for what acquittal thou dost plead:He who hath shed a mother’s kindred blood,Shall he in Argos dwell, where dwelt his sire?How shall he stand before the city’s shrines,How share the clansmen’s holy lustral bowl?APOLLOThis too I answer; mark a soothfast word,Not the true parent is the woman’s wombThat bears the child; she doth but nurse the seedNew-sown: the male is parent; she for him,As stranger for a stranger, hoards the germOf life; unless the god its promise blight.And proof hereof before you will I set.Birth may from fathers, without mothers, be:See at your side a witness of the same,Athena, daughter of Olympian Zeus,Never within the darkness of the wombFostered nor fashioned, but a bud more brightThan any goddess in her breast might bear.And I, O Pallas, howsoe’er I may,Henceforth will glorify thy town, thy clan,And for this end have sent my suppliant hereUnto thy shrine; that he from this time forthBe loyal unto thee for evermore,O goddess-queen, and thou unto thy sideMayst win and hold him faithful, and his line,And that for aye this pledge and troth remainTo children’s children of Athenian seed.ATHENAEnough is said; I bid the judges nowWith pure intent deliver just award.CHORUSWe too have shot our every shaft of speech,And now abide to hear the doom of law.ATHENA(to Apollo and Orestes)Say, how ordaining shall I ’scape your blame?APOLLOI spake, ye heard; enough. O stranger men,Heed well your oath as ye decide the cause.ATHENAO men of Athens, ye who first do judgeThe law of bloodshed, hear me now ordain.Here to all time for Aegeus’ Attic hostShall stand this council-court of judges sworn,Here the tribunal, set on Ares’ HillWhere camped of old the tented Amazons,What time in hate of Theseus they assailedAthens, and set against her citadelA counterwork of new sky-pointing towers,And there to Ares held their sacrifice,Where now the rock hath name, even Ares’ Hill.And hence shall Reverence and her kinsman FearPass to each free man’s heart, by day and nightEnjoining,Thou shalt do no unjust thing,So long as law stands as it stood of oldUnmarred by civic change. Look you, the springIs pure; but foul it once with influx vileAnd muddy clay, and none can drink thereof.Therefore, O citizens, I bid ye bowIn awe to this command,Let no man liveUncurbed by law nor curbed by tyranny;Nor banish ye the monarchy of AweBeyond the walls; untouched by fear divine,No man doth justice in the world of men.Therefore in purity and holy dreadStand and revere; so shall ye have and holdA saving bulwark of the state and land,Such as no man hath ever elsewhere known,Nor in far Scythia, nor in Pelops’ realm.Thus I ordain it now, a council-courtPure and unsullied by the lust of gain,Sacred and swift to vengeance, wakeful everTo champion men who sleep, the country’s guard.Thus have I spoken, thus to mine own clanCommended it for ever. Ye who judge,Arise, take each his vote, mete out the right,Your oath revering. Lo, my word is said.[The twelve judges come forward, one by one, to the urns of decision; the first votes; as each of the others follows, the Chorus and Apollo speak alternately.CHORUSI rede ye well, beware! nor put to shame,In aught, this grievous company of hell.APOLLOI too would warn you, fear mine oracles—From Zeus they are,—nor make them void of fruit.CHORUSPresumptuous is thy claim, blood-guilt to judge,And false henceforth thine oracles shall be.APOLLOFailed then the counsels of my sire, when turnedIxion, first of slayers, to his side?CHORUSThese are but words; but I, if justice fail me,Will haunt this land in grim and deadly deed.APOLLOScorn of the younger and the elder godsArt thou: ’tis I that shall prevail anon.CHORUSThus didst thou too of old in Pheres’ halls,O’erreaching Fate to make a mortal deathless.APOLLOWas it not well, my worshipper to aid,Then most of all when hardest was the need?CHORUSI say thou didst annul the lots of life,Cheating with wine the deities of eld.APOLLOI say thou shalt anon, thy pleadings foiled,Spit venom vainly on thine enemies.CHORUSSince this young god o’errides mine ancient right,I tarry but to claim your law, not knowingIf wrath of mine shall blast your state or spareATHENAMine is the right to add the final vote,And I award it to Orestes’ cause.For me no mother bore within her womb,And, save for wedlock evermore eschewed,I vouch myself the champion of the man,Not of the woman, yea, with all my soul,—In heart, as birth, a father’s child alone.Thus will I not too heinously regardA woman’s death who did her husband slay,The guardian of her home; and if the votesEqual do fall, Orestes shall prevail.Ye of the judges who are named thereto,Swiftly shake forth the lots from either urn.[Two judges come forward, one to each urn.ORESTESO bright Apollo, what shall be the end?CHORUSO Night, dark mother mine, dost mark these things?OSESTESNow shall my doom be life, or strangling cords.CHORUSAnd mine, lost honour or a wider sway.APOLLOO stranger judges, sum aright the countOf votes cast forth, and, parting them, take heedYe err not in decision. The defaultOf one vote only bringeth ruin deep,One, cast aright, doth stablish house and home.ATHENABehold, this man is free from guilt of blood,For half the votes condemn him, half set free!ORESTESO Pallas, light and safety of my home,Thou, thou hast given me back to dwell once moreIn that my fatherland, amerced of whichI wandered; now shall Grecian lips say this,The man is Argive once again, and dwellsAgain within his father’s wealthy hall,By Pallas saved, by Loxias, and by Him,The great third saviour, Zeus omnipotent—Who thus in pity for my father’s fateDoth pluck me from my doom, beholding these,Confederates of my mother. Lo, I passTo mine own home, but proffering this vowUnto thy land and people:Nevermore,Thro’ all the manifold years of Time to be,Shall any chieftain of mine Argive landBear hitherward his spears for fight arrayed.For we, though lapped in earth we then shall lie,By thwart adversities will work our willOn them who shall transgress this oath of mine,Paths of despair and journeyings ill-starredFor them ordaining, till their task they rue.But if this oath be rightly kept, to themWill we the dead be full of grace, the whileWith loyal league they honour Pallas’ town.And now farewell, thou and thy city’s folk—Firm be thine arm’s grasp, closing with thy foes,And, strong to save, bring victory to thy spear.[Exit Orestes, with Apollo.CHORUSWoe on you, younger gods! the ancient rightYe have o’erridden, rent it from my hands.I am dishonoured of you, thrust to scorn!But heavily my wrathShall on this land fling forth the drops that blast and burnVenom of vengeance, that shall work such scatheAs I have suffered; where that dew shall fall,Shall leafless blight arise,Wasting Earth’s offspring,—Justice, hear my call!—And thorough all the land in deadly wiseShall scatter venom, to exude againIn pestilence on men.What cry avails me now, what deed of blood,Unto this land what dark despite?Alack, alack, forlornAre we, a bitter injury have borne!Alack, O sisters, O dishonoured broodOf mother Night!ATHENANay, bow ye to my words, chafe not nor moan:Ye are not worsted nor disgraced; behold,With balanced vote the cause had issue fair,Nor in the end did aught dishonour thee.But thus the will of Zeus shone clearly forth,And his own prophet-god avouched the same,Orestes slew: his slaying is atoned.Therefore I pray you, not upon this landShoot forth the dart of vengeance; be appeased,Nor blast the land with blight, nor loose thereonDrops of eternal venom, direful dartsWasting and marring nature’s seed of growth.For I, the queen of Athens’ sacred right,Do pledge to you a holy sanctuaryDeep in the heart of this my land, made justBy your indwelling presence, while ye sitHard by your sacred shrines that gleam with oilOf sacrifice, and by this folk adored.CHORUSWoe on you, younger gods! the ancient rightYe have o’erridden, rent it from my hands.I am dishonoured of you, thrust to scorn!But heavily my wrathShall on his land fling forth the drops that blast and burn.Venom of vengeance, that shall work such scatheAs I have suffered; where that dew shall fall,Shall leafless blight arise,Wasting Earth’s offspring,—Justice, hear my call!—And thorough all the land in deadly wiseShall scatter venom, to exude againIn pestilence of men.What cry avails me now, what deed of blood,Unto this land what dark despite?Alack, alack, forlornAre we, a bitter injury have borne!Alack, O sisters, O dishonoured broodOf mother Night!ATHENADishonoured are ye not; turn not, I pray.As goddesses your swelling wrath on men,Nor make the friendly earth despiteful to them.I too have Zeus for champion—’tis enough—I only of all goddesses do know.To ope the chamber where his thunderboltsLie stored and sealed; but here is no such need.Nay, be appeased, nor cast upon the groundThe malice of thy tongue, to blast the world;Calm thou thy bitter wrath’s black inward surge,For high shall be thine honour, set beside meFor ever in this land, whose fertile lapShall pour its teeming firstfruits unto you,Gifts for fair childbirth and for wedlock’s crown:Thus honoured, praise my spoken pledge for aye.CHORUSI, I dishonoured in this earth to dwell,—Ancient of days and wisdom! I breathe forthPoison and breath of frenzied ire. O Earth,Woe, woe, for thee, for me!From side to side what pains be these that thrill?Hearken, O mother Night, my wrath, mine agony!Whom from mine ancient rights the gods have thrust,And brought me to the dust—Woe, woe is me!—with craft invincible.ATHENAOlder art thou than I, and I will bearWith this thy fury. Know, although thou beMore wise in ancient wisdom, yet have IFrom Zeus no scanted measure of the same,Wherefore take heed unto this prophecy—If to another land of alien menYe go, too late shall ye feel longing deepFor mine. The rolling tides of time bring roundA day of brighter glory for this town;And thou, enshrined in honour by the hallsWhere dwelt Erechtheus, shalt a worship winFrom men and from the train of womankind,Greater than any tribe elsewhere shall pay.Cast thou not therefore on this soil of mineWhetstones that sharpen souls to bloodshedding.The burning goads of youthful hearts, made hotWith frenzy of the spirit, not of wine.Nor pluck as ’twere the heart from cocks that strive,To set it in the breasts of citizensOf mine, a war-god’s spirit, keen for fight,Made stern against their country and their kin.The man who grievously doth lust for fame,War, full, immitigable, let him wageAgainst the stranger; but of kindred birdsI hold the challenge hateful. Such the boonI proffer thee—within this land of lands,Most loved of gods, with me to show and shareFair mercy, gratitude and grace as fair.CHORUSI, I dishonoured in this earth to dwell,—Ancient of days and wisdom! I breathe forthPoison and breath of frenzied ire. O Earth,Woe, woe for thee, for me!From side to side what pains be these that thrill?Hearken, O mother Night, my wrath, mine agony!Whom from mine ancient rights the gods have thrust,And brought me to the dust—Woe, woe is me!—with craft invincible.ATHENAI will not weary of soft words to thee,That never mayst thou say,Behold me spurned,An elder by a younger deity,And from this land rejected and forlorn,Unhonoured by the men who dwell therein.But, if Persuasion’s grace be sacred to thee,Soft in the soothing accents of my tongue,Tarry, I pray thee; yet, if go thou wilt,Not rightfully wilt thou on this my townSway down the scale that beareth wrath and teenOr wasting plague upon this folk. ’Tis thine,If so thou wilt, inheritress to beOf this my land, its utmost grace to win.CHORUSO queen, what refuge dost thou promise me?ATHENARefuge untouched by bale: take thou my boon.CHORUSWhat, if I take it, shall mine honour be?ATHENANo house shall prosper without grace of thine.CHORUSCanst thou achieve and grant such power to me?ATHENAYea, for my hand shall bless thy worshippers.CHORUSAnd wilt thou pledge me this for time eterne?ATHENAYea: none can bid me pledge beyond my power.CHORUSLo, I desist from wrath, appeased by thee.ATHENAThen in the land’s heart shalt thou win thee friends.CHORUSWhat chant dost bid me raise, to greet the land?ATHENASuch as aspires towards a victoryUnrued by any: chants from breast of earth,From wave, from sky; and let the wild winds’ breathPass with soft sunlight o’er the lap of land,—Strong wax the fruits of earth, fair teem the kine,Unfailing, for my town’s prosperity,And constant be the growth of mortal seed.But more and more root out the impious,For as a gardener fosters what he sows,So foster I this race, whom righteousnessDoth fend from sorrow. Such the proffered boon.But I, if wars must be, and their loud clashAnd carnage, for my town, will ne’er endureThat aught but victory shall crown her fame.CHORUSLo, I accept it; at her very sideDoth Pallas bid me dwell:I will not wrong the city of her pride,Which even Almighty Zeus and Ares holdHeaven’s earthly citadel,Loved home of Grecian gods, the young, the old,The sanctuary divine,The shield of every shrine!For Athens I say forth a gracious prophecy,—The glory of the sunlight and the skiesShall bid from earth ariseWarm wavelets of new life and glad prosperity.ATHENABehold, with gracious heart well pleasedI for my citizens do grantFulfilment of this covenant:And here, their wrath at length appeased,These mighty deities shall stay,For theirs it is by right to swayThe lot that rules our mortal day,And he who hath not inly feltTheir stern decree, ere long on him,Not knowing why and whence, the grimLife-crushing blow is dealt.The father’s sin upon the childDescends, and sin is silent death,And leads him on the downward path,By stealth beguiled,Unto the Furies: though his stateOn earth were high, and loud his boast,Victim of silent ire and hateHe dwells among the Lost.CHORUSTo my blessing now give ear.—Scorching blight nor singèd airNever blast thine olives fair!Drouth, that wasteth bud and plant,Keep to thine own place. Avaunt,Famine fell, and come not hitherStealthily to waste and wither!Let the land, in season due,Twice her waxing fruits renew;Teem the kine in double measure;Rich in new god-given treasure;Here let men the powers adoreFor sudden gifts unhoped before!ATHENAO hearken, warders of the wallThat guards mine Athens, what a dowerIs unto her ordained and given!For mighty is the Furies’ power,And deep-revered in courts of heavenAnd realms of hell; and clear to allThey weave thy doom, mortality!And some in joy and peace shall sing;But unto other some they bringSad life and tear-dimmed eye.CHORUSAnd far away I ban thee and remove,Untimely death of youths too soon brought low!And to each maid, O gods, when time is come for love,Grant ye a warrior’s heart, a wedded life to know.Ye too, O Fates, children of mother Night,Whose children too are we, O goddessesOf just award, of all by sacred rightQueens who in time and in eternityDo rule, a present power for righteousness,Honoured beyond all Gods, hear ye and grant my cry!ATHENAAnd I too, I with joy am fain,Hearing your voice this gift ordainUnto my land. High thanks be thine,Persuasion, who with eyes divineInto my tongue didst look thy strength,To bend and to appease at lengthThose who would not be comforted.Zeus, king of parley, doth prevail,And ye and I will strive nor fail,That good may stand in evil’s stead,And lasting bliss for bale.CHORUSAnd nevermore these walls withinShall echo fierce sedition’s dinUnslaked with blood and crime;The thirsty dust shall nevermoreSuck up the darkly streaming goreOf civic broils, shed out in wrathAnd vengeance, crying death for death!But man with man and state with stateShall vowThe pledge of common hateAnd common friendship, that for manHath oft made blessing out of ban,Be ours unto all time.ATHENASkill they, or not, the path to findOf favouring speech and presage kind?Yea, even from these, who, grim and stern,Glared anger upon you of old,O citizens, ye now shall earnA recompense right manifold.Deck them aright, extol them high,Be loyal to their loyalty,And ye shall make your town and landSure, propped on Justice’ saving hand,And Fame’s eternity.CHORUSHail ye, all hail! and yet again, all hailO Athens, happy in a weal secured!O ye who sit by Zeus’ right hand, nor failOf wisdom set among you and assured,Loved of the well-loved Goddess-Maid! the KingOf gods doth reverence you, beneath her guarding wing.ATHENAAll hail unto each honoured guest!Whom to the chambers of your rest’Tis mine to lead, and to provideThe hallowed torch, the guard and guide.Pass down, the while these altars glowWith sacred fire, to earth belowAnd your appointed shrine.There dwelling, from the land restrainThe force of fate, the breath of bane,But waft on us the gift and gainOf Victory divine!And ye, the men of Cranaos’ seed,I bid you now with reverence leadThese alien Powers that thus are madeAthenian evermore. To youFair be their will henceforth, to doWhate’er may bless and aid!CHORUSHail to you all! hail yet again,All who love Athens, Gods and men,Adoring her as Pallas’ home!And while ye reverence what ye grant—My sacred shrine and hidden haunt—Blameless and blissful be your doom!ATHENAOnce more I praise the promise of your vows,And now I bid the golden torches’ glowPass down before you to the hidden depthOf earth, by mine own sacred servants borne,Mv loyal guards of statue and of shrine.Come forth, O flower of Theseus’ Attic land,O glorious band of children and of wives,And ye, O train of matrons crowned with eld!Deck you with festal robes of scarlet dyeIn honour of this day: O gleaming torch,Lead onward, that these gracious powers of earthHenceforth be seen to bless the life of men.[Athena leads the procession downwards into the Cave of the Furies, under Areopagus: as they go, the escort of women and children chant aloud.CHANTWith loyalty we lead you; proudly go,Night’s childless children, to your home below!(O citizens, awhile from words forbear!)To darkness’ deep primeval lair,Far in Earth’s bosom, downward fare,Adored with prayer and sacrifice.(O citizens, forbear your cries!)Pass hitherward, ye powers of Dread,With all your former wrath allayed,Into the heart of this loved land;With joy unto your temple wend,The while upon your steps attendThe flames that fed upon the brand—(Now, now ring out your chant, your joy’s acclaim!)Behind them, as they downward fare,Let holy hands libations bear,And torches’ sacred flame.All-seeing Zeus and Fate come downTo battle fair for Pallas’ town!Ring out your chant, ring out your joy’s acclaim![Exeunt omnes.

THE PYTHIAN PRIESTESSAPOLLOORESTESTHE GHOST OF CLYTEMNESTRACHORUS OF FURIESATHENAATTENDANTS OF ATHENATWELVE ATHENIAN CITIZENS

The Scene of the Drama is the Temple of Apollo, at Delphi: afterwards the Temple of Athena, on the Acropolis of Athens, and the adjoining Areopagus.

The Temple at Delphi

The Pythian Priestess

First, in this prayer, of all the gods I nameThe prophet-mother Earth; and Themis next,Second who sat—for so with truth is said—On this her mother’s shrine oracular.Then by her grace, who unconstrained allowed,There sat thereon another child of Earth—Titanian Phoebe. She, in after time,Gave o’er the throne, as birthgift to a god,Phoebus, who in his own bears Phoebe’s name.He from the lake and ridge of Delos’ isleSteered to the port of Pallas’ Attic shores,The home of ships; and thence he passed and cameUnto this land and to Parnassus’ shrine.And at his side, with awe revering him,There went the children of Hephaestus’ seed,The hewers of the sacred way, who tameThe stubborn tract that erst was wilderness.And all this folk, and Delphos, chieftain-kingOf this their land, with honour gave him home;And in his breast Zeus set a prophet’s soul,And gave to him this throne, whereon he sits,Fourth prophet of the shrine, and, Loxias hight,Gives voice to that which Zeus his sire decrees.

Such gods I name in my preluding prayer,And after them, I call with honour dueOn Pallas, wardress of the fane, and NymphsWho dwell around the rock Corycian,Where in the hollow cave, the wild birds’ haunt,Wander the feet of lesser gods; and there,Right well I know it, Bromian Bacchus dwells,Since he in godship led his Maenad host,Devising death for Pentheus, whom they rentPiecemeal, as hare among the hounds. And last,I call on Pleistus’ springs, Poseidon’s might,And Zeus most high, the great Accomplisher.Then as a seeress to the sacred chairI pass and sit; and may the powers divineMake this mine entrance fruitful in responseBeyond each former advent, triply blest.And if there stand without, from Hellas bound,Men seeking oracles, let each pass inIn order of the lot, as use allows;For the god guides whate’er my tongue proclaims.

[She goes into the interior of the temple; after a short interval, she returns in great fear.

Things fell to speak of, fell for eyes to see,Have sped me forth again from Loxias’ shrine,With strength unstrung, moving erect no more,But aiding with my hands my failing feet,Unnerved by fear. A beldame’s force is naught—Is as a child’s, when age and fear combine.For as I pace towards the inmost faneBay-filleted by many a suppliant’s hand,Lo, at the central altar I descryOne crouching as for refuge—yea, a manAbhorredd of heaven; and from his hands, whereinA sword new-drawn he holds, blood reeked and fell:A wand he bears, the olive’s topmost bough,Twined as of purpose with a deep close tuftOf whitest wool. This, that I plainly saw,Plainly I tell. But lo, in front of him,Crouched on the altar-steps, a grisly bandOf women slumbers—not like women they,But Gorgons rather; nay, that word is weak,Nor may I match the Gorgons’ shape with theirs!Such have I seen in painted semblance erst—Winged Harpies, snatching food from Phineus’ board,—But these are wingless, black, and all their shapeThe eye’s abomination to behold.Fell is the breath—let none draw nigh to it—Wherewith they snort in slumber; from their eyesExude the damnèd drops of poisonous ire:And such their garb as none should dare to bringTo statues of the gods or homes of men.I wot not of the tribe wherefrom can comeSo fell a legion, nor in what land EarthCould rear, unharmed, such creatures, nor avowThat she had travailed and brought forth death.But, for the rest, be all these things a careUnto the mighty Loxias, the lordOf this our shrine: healer and prophet he,Discerner he of portents, and the cleanserOf other homes—behold, his own to cleanse!

[Exit.

[The scene opens, disclosing the interior of the temple: Orestes clings to the central altar; the Furies lie slumbering at a little distance; Apollo and Hermes appear from the innermost shrine.

APOLLOLo, I desert thee never: to the end,Hard at thy side as now, or sundered far,I am thy guard, and to thine enemiesImplacably oppose me: look on them,These greedy fiends, beneath my craft subdued!See, they are fallen on sleep, these beldames old,Unto whose grim and wizened maidenhoodNor god nor man nor beast can e’er draw near.Yea, evil were they born, for evil’s doom,Evil the dark abyss of TartarusWherein they dwell, and they themselves the hateOf men on earth, and of Olympian gods.But thou, flee far and with unfaltering speed;For they shall hunt thee through the mainland wideWhere’er throughout the tract of travelled earthThy foot may roam, and o’er and o’er the seasAnd island homes of men. Faint not nor fail,Too soon and timidly within thy breastShepherding thoughts forlorn of this thy toil;But unto Pallas’ city go, and thereCrouch at her shrine, and in thine arms enfoldHer ancient image: there we well shall findMeet judges for this cause and suasive pleas,Skilled to contrive for thee deliveranceFrom all this woe. Be such my pledge to thee,For by my hest thou didst thy mother slay.

ORESTESO king Apollo, since right well thou know’stWhat justice bids, have heed, fulfil the same,—Thy strength is all-sufficient to achieve.

APOLLOHave thou too heed, nor let thy fear prevailAbove thy will. And do thou guard him, Hermes,Whose blood is brother unto mine, whose sireThe same high God. Men call thee guide and guard,Guide therefore thou and guard my suppliant;For Zeus himself reveres the outlaw’s right,Boon of fair escort, upon man conferred.

[Exeunt Apollo, Hermes, and Orestes. The Ghost of Clytemnestra near

GHOST OF CLYTEMNESTRASleep on! awake! what skills your sleep to me—Me, among all the dead by you dishonoured—Me from whom never, in the world of death,Dieth this curse,’Tis she who smote and slew,And shamed and scorned I roam? Awake, and hearMy plaint of dead men’s hate intolerable.Me, sternly slain by them that should have loved,Me doth no god arouse him to avenge,Hewn down in blood by matricidal hands.Mark ye these wounds from which the heart’s blood ran,And by whose hand, bethink ye! for the senseWhen shut in sleep hath then the spirit-sight,But in the day the inward eye is blind.List, ye who drank so oft with lapping tongueThe wineless draught by me outpoured to sootheYour vengeful ire! how oft on kindled shrineI laid the feast of darkness, at the hourAbhorred of every god but you alone!Lo, all my service trampled down and scorned!And he hath baulked your chase, as stag the hounds;Yea, lightly bounding from the circling toils,Hath wried his face in scorn, and flieth far.Awake and hear—for mine own soul I cry—Awake, ye powers of hell! the wandering ghostThat once was Clytemnestra calls—Arise!

[The Furies mutter grimly, as in a dream.

Mutter and murmur! He hath flown afar— My kin have gods to guard them, I have none!

[The Furies mutter as before.

O drowsed in sleep too deep to heed my pain!Orestes flies, who me, his mother, slew.

[The Furies give a confused cry.

Yelping, and drowsed again? Up and be doingThat which alone is yours, the deed of hell!

[The Furies give another cry.

Lo, sleep and toil, the sworn confederates,Have quelled your dragon-anger, once so fell!

THE FURIES(muttering more fiercely and loudly)Seize, seize, seize, seize—mark, yonder!

GHOSTIn dreams ye chase a prey, and like some hound,That even in sleep doth ply his woodland toil,Ye bell and bay. What do ye, sleeping here?Be not o’ercome with toil, nor sleep-subdued,Be heedless of my wrong. Up! thrill your heartWith the just chidings of my tongue,—such wordsAre as a spur to purpose firmly held.Blow forth on him the breath of wrath and blood,Scorch him with reek of fire that burns in you,Waste him with new pursuit—swift, hound him down!

[Ghost sinks.

FIRST FURY(awaking)Up! rouse another as I rouse thee; up!Sleep’st thou? Rise up, and spurning sleep away,See we if false to us this prelude rang.

CHORUS OF FURIESAlack, alack, O sisters, we have toiled,O much and vainly have we toiled and borne!Vainly! and all we wrought the gods have foiled,And turnèd us to scorn!He hath slipped from the net, whom we chased: hehath ’scaped us who should be our prey—O’ermastered by slumber we sank, and our quarry hath stolen away!Thou, child of the high God Zeus, Apollo, hast robbed us and wronged;Thou, a youth, hast down-trodden the right that is godship more ancient belonged;Thou hast cherished thy suppliant man; the slayer the God-forsaken,The bane of a parent, by craft from out of our grasp thou hast taken:A god, thou hast stolen from us the avengers a matricide son—And who shall consider thy deed and say,It is rightfullydone?The sound of chiding scornCame from the land of dream;Deep to mine inmost heart I felt it thrill and burn,Thrust as a strong-grasped goad, to urgeOnward the chariot’s team.Thrilled, chilled with bitter inward painI stand as one beneath the doomsman’s scourge.Shame on the younger gods who tread down right,Sitting on thrones of might!Woe on the altar of earth’s central fane!Clotted on step and shrine,Behold, the guilt of blood, the ghastly stain!Woe upon thee, Apollo! uncontrolled,Unbidden, hast thou, prophet-god, imbruedThe pure prophetic shrine with wrongful blood!For thou too heinous a respect didst holdOf man, too little heed of powers divine!And us the Fates, the ancients of the earth,Didst deem as nothing worth.Scornful to me thou art, yet shalt not fendMy wrath from him; though unto hell he flee,There too are we!And he the blood defiled, should feel and rue,Though I were not, fiend-wrath that shall not end,Descending on his head who foully slew.

[Re-enter Apollo from the inner shrine.

APOLLOOut! I command you. Out from this my home—Haste, tarry not! Out from the mystic shrine,Lest thy lot be to take into thy breastThe winged bright dart that from my golden stringSpeeds hissing as a snake,—lest, pierced and thrilledWith agony, thou shouldst spew forth againBlack frothy heart’s-blood, drawn from mortal men,Belching the gory clots sucked forth from wounds.These be no halls where such as you can prowl—Go where men lay on men the doom of blood,Heads lopped from necks, eyes from their spheres plucked out,Hacked flesh, the flower of youthful seed crushed out,Feet hewn away, and hands, and death beneathThe smiting stone, low moans and piteousOf men impaled—Hark, hear ye for what feastYe hanker ever, and the loathing godsDo spit upon your craving? Lo, your shapeIs all too fitted to your greed; the caveWhere lurks some lion, lapping gore, were homeMore meet for you. Avaunt from sacred shrines,Nor bring pollution by your touch on allThat nears you. Hence! and roam unshepherded—No god there is to tend such herd as you.

CHORUSO king Apollo, in our turn hear us.Thou hast’not only part in these ill things,But art chief cause and doer of the same.

APOLLOHow? stretch thy speech to tell this, and have done.

CHORUSThine oracle bade this man slay his mother.

APOLLOI bade him quit his sire’s death,—wherefore not?

CHORUSThen didst thou aid and guard red-handed crime.

APOLLOYea, and I bade him to this temple flee.

CHORUSAnd yet forsooth dost chide us following him!

APOLLOAy—not for you it is, to near this fane.

CHORUSYet is such office ours, imposed by fate.

APOLLOWhat office? vaunt the thing ye deem so fair.

CHORUSFrom home to home we chase the matricide.

APOLLOWhat? to avenge a wife who slays her lord?

CHORUSThat is not blood outpoured by kindred hands.

APOLLOHow darkly ye dishonour and annulThe troth to which the high accomplishers,Hera and Zeus, do honour. Yea, and thusIs Aphrodite to dishonour cast,The queen of rapture unto mortal men.Know, that above the marriage-bed ordainedFor man and woman standeth Right as guard,Enhancing sanctity of troth-plight sworn;Therefore, if thou art placable to thoseWho have their consort slain, nor will’st to turnOn them the eye of wrath, unjust art thouIn hounding to his doom the man who slewHis mother. Lo, I know thee full of wrathAgainst one deed, but all too placableUnto the other, minishing the crime.But in this cause shall Pallas guard the right.

CHORUSDeem not my quest shall ever quit that man.

APOLLOFollow then, make thee double toil in vain!

CHORUSThink not by speech mine office to curtail.

APOLLONone hast thou, that I would accept of thee!

CHORUSYea, high thine honour by the throne of Zeus:But I, drawn on by scent of mother’s blood,Seek vengeance on this man and hound him down.

APOLLOBut I will stand beside him; ’tis for meTo guard my suppliant: gods and men alikeDo dread the curse of such an one betrayed,And in me Fear and Will sayLeave him not.

[Exeunt omnes

The scene changes to Athens. In the foreground, the Temple of Athena on the Acropolis; her statue stands in the centre; Orestes is seen clinging to it.

ORESTESLook on me, queen Athena; lo, I comeBy Loxias’ behest; thou of thy graceReceive me, driven of avenging powers—Not now a red-hand slayer unannealed,But with guilt fading, half-effaced, outwornOn many homes and paths of mortal men.For to the limit of each land, each sea,I roamed, obedient to Apollo’s hest,And come at last, O Goddess, to thy fane,And clinging to thine image, bide my doom.

[Enter the Chorus of Furies, questing like hounds

CHORUSHo! clear is here the trace of him we seek:Follow the track of blood, the silent sign!Like to some hound that hunts a wounded fawn,We snuff along the scent of dripping gore,And inwardly we pant, for many a dayToiling in chase that shall fordo the man;For o’er and o’er the wide land have I ranged,And o’er the wide sea, flying without wings,Swift as a sail I pressed upon his track,Who now hard by is crouching, well I wot,For scent of mortal blood allures me here.Follow, seek him—round and roundScent and snuff and scan the ground,Lest unharmed he slip away,He who did his mother slay!Hist—he is there! See him his arms entwineAround the image of the maid divine—Thus aided, for the deed he wroughtUnto the judgment wills he to be brought.

It may not be! a mother’s blood, poured forthUpon the stainèd earth,None gathers up: it lies—bear witness, Hell!—For aye indelible!And thou who sheddest it shalt give thine ownThat shedding to atone!Yea, from thy living limbs I suck it out,Red, clotted, gout by gout,—A draught abhorred of men and gods; but IWill drain it, suck thee dry;Yea, I will waste thee living, nerve and vein;Yea, for thy mother slain,Will drag thee downward, there where thou shalt dreeThe weird of agony!And thou and whatsoe’er of men hath sinned—Hath wronged or God, or friend,Or parent,—learn ye how to all and eachThe arm of doom can reach!Sternly requiteth, in the world beneath,The judgment-seat of Death;Yea, Death, beholding every man’s endeavourRecordeth it for ever.

ORESTESI, schooled in many miseries, have learntHow many refuges of cleansing shrinesThere be; I know when law alloweth speechAnd when imposeth silence. Lo, I standFixed now to speak, for he whose word is wiseCommands the same. Look, how the stain of bloodIs dull upon mine hand and wastes away,And laved and lost therewith is the deep curseOf matricide; for while the guilt was new,’Twas banished from me at Apollo’s hearth,Atoned and purified by death of swine.Long were my word if I should sum the tale,How oft since then among my fellow-menI stood and brought no curse. Time cleanses all—Time, the coeval of all things that are.Now from pure lips, in words of omen fair,I call Athena, lady of this land,To come, my champion: so, in aftertime,She shall not fail of love and service leal,Not won by war, from me and from my land,And all the folk of Argos, vowed to her.Now, be she far away in Libyan landWhere flows from Triton’s lake her natal wave,—Stand she with planted feet, or in some hourOf rest conceal them, champion of her friendsWhere’er she be,—or whether o’er the plainPhlegraean she look forth, as warrior bold—I cry to her to come, where’er she be,(And she, as goddess, from afar can hear,)And aid and free me, set among my foes.

CHORUSThee not Apollo nor Athena’s strengthCan save from perishing, a castawayAmid the Lost, where no delight shall meetThy soul—a bloodless prey of nether powers,A shadow among shadows. Answerest thouNothing? dost cast away my words with scorn,Thou, prey prepared and dedicate to me?Not as a victim slain upon the shrine,But living shalt thou see thy flesh my food.Hear now the binding chant that makes thee mine.

Weave the weird dance,—behold the hourTo utter forth the chant of hell,Our sway among mankind to tell,The guidance of our power.Of Justice are we ministers,And whosoe’er of men may standLifting a pure unsullied hand,That man no doom of ours incurs,And walks thro’ all his mortal pathUntouched by woe, unharmed by wrath.But if, as yonder man, he hathBlood on the hands he strives to hide,We stand avengers at his side,Decreeing,Thou hast wronged the dead:We are doom’s witnesses to thee.The price of blood, his hands have shed,We wring from him; in life, in death,Hard at his side are we!

Night, Mother Night, who brought me forth, a tormentTo living men and dead,Hear me, O hear! by Leto’s stripling sonI am dishonourèd:He hath ta’en from me him who cowers in refuge,To me made consecrate,—A rightful victim, him who slew his mother.Given o’er to me and fate.

Hear the hymn of hell,O’er the victim sounding,—Chant of frenzy, chant of ill,Sense and will confounding!Round the soul entwiningWithout lute or lyre—Soul in madness pining,Wasting as with fire!

Fate, all-pervading Fate, this service spun, commandingThat I should bide therein:Whosoe’er of mortals, made perverse and lawless,Is stained with blood of kin,By his side are we, and hunt him ever onward,Till to the Silent Land,The realm of death, he cometh; neither yonderIn freedom shall he stand.

Hear the hymn of hell,O’er the victim sounding,—Chant of frenzy, chant of ill,Sense and will confounding!Round the soul entwiningWithout lute or lyre—Soul in madness pining,Wasting as with fire!

When from womb of Night we sprang, on us this labourWas laid and shall abide.Gods immortal are ye, yet beware ye touch notThat which is our pride!None may come beside us gathered round the blood feast—For us no garments whiteGleam on a festal day; for us a darker fate is,Another darker rite.That is mine hour when falls an ancient line—When in the household’s heartThe god of blood doth slay by kindred hands,—Then do we bear our part:On him who slays we sweep with chasing cry:Though he be triply strong,We wear and waste him; blood atones for blood,New pain for ancient wrong.

I hold this task—’tis mine, and not another’s.The very gods on high,Though they can silence and annul the prayersOf those who on us cry,They may not strive with us who stand apart,A race by Zeus abhorred,Blood-boltered, held unworthy of the councilAnd converse of Heaven’s lord.Therefore the more I leap upon my prey;Upon their head I bound;My foot is hard; as one that trips a runnerI cast them to the ground;Yea, to the depth of doom intolerable;And they who erst were great,And upon earth held high their pride and glory,Are brought to low estate.In underworld they waste and are diminished,The while around them fleetDark wavings of my robes, and, subtly woven,The paces of my feet.

Who falls infatuate, he sees not, neither knows heThat we are at his side;So closely round about him, darkly flitting,The cloud of guilt doth glide.Heavily ’tis uttered, how around his hearthstoneThe mirk of hell doth rise.Stern and fixed the law is; we have hands t’achieve it,Cunning to devise.Queens are we and mindful of our solemn vengeance.Not by tear or prayerShall a man avert it. In unhonoured darkness,Far from gods, we fare,Lit unto our task with torch of sunless regions,And o’er a deadly way—Deadly to the living as to those who see notLife and light of day—Hunt we and press onward. Who of mortals hearingDoth not quake for awe,Hearing all that Fate thro’ hand of God hath given usFor ordinance and law?Yea, this right to us, in dark abysm and backwardOf ages it befel:None shall wrong mine office, tho’ in nether regionsAnd sunless dark I dwell.

[Enter Athena from above.

ATHENAFar off I heard the clamour of your cry,As by Scamander’s side I set my footAsserting right upon the land given o’erTo me by those who o’er Achaia’s hostHeld sway and leadership: no scanty partOf all they won by spear and sword, to meThey gave it, land and all that grew theron,As chosen heirloom for my Theseus’ clan.Thence summoned, sped I with a tireless foot,—Hummed on the wind, instead of wings, the foldOf this mine aegis, by my feet propelled,As, linked to mettled horses, speeds a car.And now, beholding here Earth’s nether brood,I fear it nought, yet are mine eyes amazedWith wonder. Who are ye? of all I ask,And of this stranger to my statue clinging.But ye—your shape is like no human form,Like to no goddess whom the gods behold,Like to no shape which mortal women wear.Yet to stand by and chide a monstrous formIs all unjust—from such words Right revolts.

CHORUSO child of Zeus, one word shall tell thee all.We are the children of eternal Night,And Furies in the underworld are called.

ATHENAI know your lineage now and eke your name.

CHORUSYea, and eftsoons indeed my rights shalt know.

ATHENAFain would I learn them; speak them clearly forth.

CHORUSWe chase from home the murderers of men.

ATHENAAnd where at last can he that slew make pause?

CHORUSWhere this is law—All joy abandon here.

ATHENASay, do ye bay this man to such a flight?

CHORUSYea, for of choice he did his mother slay.

ATHENAUrged by no fear of other wrath and doom?

CHORUSWhat spur can rightly goad to matricide?

ATHENATwo stand to plead—one only have I heard.

CHORUSHe will not swear nor challenge us to oath.

ATHENAThe form of justice, not its deed, thou willest.

CHORUSProve thou that word; thou art not scant of skill.

ATHENAI say that oaths shall not enforce the wrong.

CHORUSThen test the cause, judge and award the right.

ATHENAWill ye to me then this decision trust?

CHORUSYea, reverencing true child of worthy sire.

ATHENA(to Orestes)O man unknown, make thou thy plea in turn.Speak forth thy land, thy lineage, and thy woes;Then, if thou canst, avert this bitter blame—If, as I deem, in confidence of rightThou sittest hard beside my holy place,Clasping this statue, as Ixion sat,A sacred suppliant for Zeus to cleanse,—To all this answer me in words made plain.

ORESTESO queen Athena, first from thy last wordsWill I a great solicitude remove.Not one blood-guilty am I; no foul stainClings to thine image from my clinging hand;Whereof one potent proof I have to tell.Lo, the law stands—The slayer shall not plead,Till by the hand of him who cleanses bloodA suckling creature’s blood besprinkle him.Long since have I this expiation done,—In many a home, slain beasts and running streamsHave cleansed me. Thus I speak away that fear.Next, of my lineage quickly thou shalt learn:An Argive am I, and right well thou know’stMy sire, that Agamemnon who arrayedThe fleet and them that went therein to war—That chief with whom thy hand combined to crushTo an uncitied heap what once was Troy;That Agamemnon, when he homeward came,Was brought unto no honourable death,Slain by the dark-souled wife who brought me forthTo him,—enwound and slain in wily nets,Blazoned with blood that in the laver ran.And I, returning from an exiled youth,Slew her, my mother—lo, it stands avowed!With blood for blood avenging my loved sire;And in this deed doth Loxias bear part,Decreeing agonies, to goad my will,Unless by me the guilty found their doom.Do thou decide if right or wrong were done—Thy dooming, whatsoe’er it be, contents me.

ATHENAToo mighty is this matter, whatsoe’erOf mortals claims to judge hereof aright.Yea, me, even me, eternal Right forbidsTo judge the issues of blood-guilt, and wrathThat follows swift behind. This too gives pause,That thou as one with all due rites performedDost come, unsinning, pure, unto my shrine.Whate’er thou art, in this my city’s name,As uncondemned, I take thee to my side,—Yet have these foes of thine such dues by fate,I may not banish them: and if they fail,O’erthrown in judgment of the cause, forthwithTheir anger’s poison shall infect the land—A dropping plague-spot of eternal ill.Thus stand we with a woe on either hand:Stay they, or go at my commandment forth,Perplexity or pain must needs befall.Yet, as on me Fate hath imposed the cause,I choose unto me judges that shall beAn ordinance for ever, set to ruleThe dues of blood-guilt, upon oath declared.But ye, call forth your witness and your proof,Words strong for justice, fortified by oath;And I, whoe’er are truest in my town,Them will I chose and bring, and straitly charge,Look on this cause, discriminating well,And pledge your oath to utter nought of wrong.

[Exit Athena.

CHORUSNow are they all undone, the ancient laws,If here the slayer’s causePrevail; new wrong for ancient right shall beIf matricide go free.Henceforth a deed like his by all shall stand,Too ready to the hand:Too oft shall parents in the aftertimeRue and lament this crime,—Taught, not in false imagining, to feelTheir children’s thrusting steel:No more the wrath, that erst on murder fellFrom us, the queens of Hell.Shall fall, no more our watching gaze impend—Death shall smite unrestrained.

Henceforth shall one unto another cryLo, they are stricken, lo, they fall and dieAround me!and that other answers him,O thou that lookest that thy woes should cease,Behold, with dark increaseThey throng and press upon thee; yea, and dimIs all the cure, and every comfort vain!

Let none henceforth cry out, when falls the blowOf sudden-smiting woe,Cry out in sad reiterated strainO Justice, aid! aid, O ye thrones of Hell!So though a father or a mother wailNew-smitten by a son, it shall no more avail,Since, overthrown by wrong, the fane of Justice fell!

Know, that a throne there is that may not pass away,And one that sitteth on it—even Fear,Searching with steadfast eyes man’s inner soul:Wisdom is child of pain, and born with many a tear;But who henceforth,What man of mortal men, what nation upon earth,That holdeth nought in awe nor in the lightOf inner reverence, shall worship RightAs in the older day?

Praise not, O man, the life beyond control,Nor that which bows unto a tyrant’s sway.Know that the middle wayIs dearest unto God, and they thereon who wend,They shall achieve the end;But they who wander or to left or rightAre sinners in his sight.Take to thy heart this one, this soothfast word—Of wantonness impiety is sire;Only from calm control and sanity unstirredCometh true weal, the goal of every man’s desire.

Yea, whatsoe’er befall, hold thou this word of mine:Bow down at Justice’ shrine,Turn thou thine eyes away from earthly lure,Nor with a godless foot that altar spurn.For as thou dost shall Fate do in return,And the great doom is sure.Therefore let each adore a parent’s trust,And each with loyalty revere the guestThat in his halls doth rest.For whoso uncompelled doth follow what is just,He ne’er shall be unblest;Yea, never to the gulf of doomThat man shall come.But he whose will is set against the gods,Who treads beyond the law with foot impure,

Till o’er the wreck of Right confusion broods—Know that for him, though now he sail secure,The day of storm shall be; then shall he strive and fail,Down from the shivered yard to furl the sail,And call on Powers, that heed him nought, to saveAnd vainly wrestle with the whirling wave,Hot was his heart with pride—I shall not fall, he cried.But him with watching scornThe god beholds, forlorn,Tangled in toils of Fate beyond escape,Hopeless of haven safe beyond the cape—Till all his wealth and bliss of bygone dayUpon the reef of Rightful Doom is hurled,And he is rapt awayUnwept, for ever, to the dead forgotten world.

[Re-enter Athena, with twelve Athenian citizens.

ATHENAO herald, make proclaim, bid all men come.Then let the shrill blast of the Tyrrhene trump,Fulfilled with mortal breath, thro’ the wide airPeal a loud summons, bidding all men heed.For, till my judges fill this judgment-seat,Silence behoves,—that this whole city learn,What for all time mine ordinance commands,And these men, that the cause be judged aright.

[Apollo approaches.

CHORUSO king Apollo, rule what is thine own,But in this thing what share pertains to thee?

APOLLOFirst, as a witness come I, for this manIs suppliant of mine by sacred right,Guest of my holy hearth and cleansed by meOf blood-guilt: then, to set me at his sideAnd in his cause bear part, as part I boreErst in his deed, whereby his mother fell.Let whoso knoweth now announce the cause.

ATHENA(to the Chorus)’Tis I announce the cause—first speech be yours;For rightfully shall they whose plaint is triedTell the tale first and set the matter clear.

CHORUSThough we be many, brief shall be our tale.(To Orestes) Answer thou, setting word to match with word;And first avow—hast thou thy mother slain?

ORESTESI slew her. I deny no word hereof.

CHORUSThree falls decide the wrestle—this is one.

ORESTESThou vauntest thee—but o’er no final fall.

CHORUSYet must thou tell the manner of thy deed.

ORESTESDrawn sword in hand, I gashed her neck. ’Tis told.

CHORUSBut by whose word, whose craft, wert thou impelled?

ORESTESBy oracles of him who here attests me.

CHORUSThe prophet-god bade thee thy mother slay?

ORESTESYea, and thro’ him less ill I fared, till now.

CHORUSIf the vote grip thee, thou shalt change that word.

ORESTESStrong is my hope; my buried sire shall aid.

CHORUSGo to now, trust the dead, a matricide!

ORESTESYea, for in her combined two stains of sin.

CHORUSHow? speak this clearly to the judges’ mind.

ORESTESSlaying her husband, she did slay my sire.

CHORUSTherefore thou livest; death assoils her deed.

ORESTESThen while she lived why didst thou hunt her not?

CHORUSShe was not kin by blood to him she slew.

ORESTESAnd I, am I by blood my mother’s kin?

CHORUSO cursed with murder’s guilt, how else wert thouThe burden of her womb? Dost thou forswearThy mother’s kinship, closest bond of love?

ORESTESIt is thine hour, Apollo—speak the law,Averring if this deed were justly done;For done it is, and clear and undenied.But if to thee this murder’s cause seem rightOr wrongful, speak—that I to these may tell.

APOLLOTo you, Athena’s mighty council-court,Justly for justice will I plead, even I,The prophet-god, nor cheat you by one word.For never spake I from my prophet-seatOne word, of man, of woman, or of state,Save what the Father of Olympian godsCommanded unto me. I rede you then,Bethink you of my plea, how strong it stands,And follow the decree of Zeus our sire,—For oaths prevail not over Zeus’ command.

CHORUSGo to; thou sayest that from Zeus befelThe oracle that this Orestes badeWith vengeance quit the slaying of his sire,And hold as nought his mother’s right of kin!

APOLLOYea, for it stands not with a common death,That he should die, a chieftain and a kingDecked with the sceptre which high heaven confers—Die, and by female hands, not smitten downBy a far-shooting bow, held stalwartlyBy some strong Amazon. Another doomWas his: O Pallas, hear, and ye who sitIn judgment, to discern this thing aright!—She with a specious voice of welcome trueHailed him, returning from the mighty martWhere war for life gives fame, triumphant home;Then o’er the laver, as he bathed himself,She spread from head to foot a covering net,And in the endless mesh of cunning robesEnwound and trapped her lord, and smote him down.Lo, ye have heard what doom this chieftain met,The majesty of Greece, the fleet’s high lord:Such as I tell it, let it gall your ears,Who stand as judges to decide this cause.

CHORUSZeus, as thou sayest, holds a father’s deathAs first of crimes,—yet he of his own actCast into chains his father, Cronos old:How suits that deed with that which now ye tell?O ye who judge, I bid ye mark my words!

APOLLOO monsters loathed of all, O scorn of gods,He that hath bound may loose: a cure there is,Yea, many a plan that can unbind the chain.But when the thirsty dust sucks up man’s bloodOnce shed in death, he shall arise no more.No chant nor charm for this my Sire hath wrought.All else there is, he moulds and shifts at will,Not scant of strength nor breath, whate’er he do.

CHORUSThink yet, for what acquittal thou dost plead:He who hath shed a mother’s kindred blood,Shall he in Argos dwell, where dwelt his sire?How shall he stand before the city’s shrines,How share the clansmen’s holy lustral bowl?

APOLLOThis too I answer; mark a soothfast word,Not the true parent is the woman’s wombThat bears the child; she doth but nurse the seedNew-sown: the male is parent; she for him,As stranger for a stranger, hoards the germOf life; unless the god its promise blight.And proof hereof before you will I set.Birth may from fathers, without mothers, be:See at your side a witness of the same,Athena, daughter of Olympian Zeus,Never within the darkness of the wombFostered nor fashioned, but a bud more brightThan any goddess in her breast might bear.And I, O Pallas, howsoe’er I may,Henceforth will glorify thy town, thy clan,And for this end have sent my suppliant hereUnto thy shrine; that he from this time forthBe loyal unto thee for evermore,O goddess-queen, and thou unto thy sideMayst win and hold him faithful, and his line,And that for aye this pledge and troth remainTo children’s children of Athenian seed.

ATHENAEnough is said; I bid the judges nowWith pure intent deliver just award.

CHORUSWe too have shot our every shaft of speech,And now abide to hear the doom of law.

ATHENA(to Apollo and Orestes)Say, how ordaining shall I ’scape your blame?

APOLLOI spake, ye heard; enough. O stranger men,Heed well your oath as ye decide the cause.

ATHENAO men of Athens, ye who first do judgeThe law of bloodshed, hear me now ordain.Here to all time for Aegeus’ Attic hostShall stand this council-court of judges sworn,Here the tribunal, set on Ares’ HillWhere camped of old the tented Amazons,What time in hate of Theseus they assailedAthens, and set against her citadelA counterwork of new sky-pointing towers,And there to Ares held their sacrifice,Where now the rock hath name, even Ares’ Hill.And hence shall Reverence and her kinsman FearPass to each free man’s heart, by day and nightEnjoining,Thou shalt do no unjust thing,So long as law stands as it stood of oldUnmarred by civic change. Look you, the springIs pure; but foul it once with influx vileAnd muddy clay, and none can drink thereof.Therefore, O citizens, I bid ye bowIn awe to this command,Let no man liveUncurbed by law nor curbed by tyranny;Nor banish ye the monarchy of AweBeyond the walls; untouched by fear divine,No man doth justice in the world of men.Therefore in purity and holy dreadStand and revere; so shall ye have and holdA saving bulwark of the state and land,Such as no man hath ever elsewhere known,Nor in far Scythia, nor in Pelops’ realm.Thus I ordain it now, a council-courtPure and unsullied by the lust of gain,Sacred and swift to vengeance, wakeful everTo champion men who sleep, the country’s guard.Thus have I spoken, thus to mine own clanCommended it for ever. Ye who judge,Arise, take each his vote, mete out the right,Your oath revering. Lo, my word is said.

[The twelve judges come forward, one by one, to the urns of decision; the first votes; as each of the others follows, the Chorus and Apollo speak alternately.

CHORUSI rede ye well, beware! nor put to shame,In aught, this grievous company of hell.

APOLLOI too would warn you, fear mine oracles—From Zeus they are,—nor make them void of fruit.

CHORUSPresumptuous is thy claim, blood-guilt to judge,And false henceforth thine oracles shall be.

APOLLOFailed then the counsels of my sire, when turnedIxion, first of slayers, to his side?

CHORUSThese are but words; but I, if justice fail me,Will haunt this land in grim and deadly deed.

APOLLOScorn of the younger and the elder godsArt thou: ’tis I that shall prevail anon.

CHORUSThus didst thou too of old in Pheres’ halls,O’erreaching Fate to make a mortal deathless.

APOLLOWas it not well, my worshipper to aid,Then most of all when hardest was the need?

CHORUSI say thou didst annul the lots of life,Cheating with wine the deities of eld.

APOLLOI say thou shalt anon, thy pleadings foiled,Spit venom vainly on thine enemies.

CHORUSSince this young god o’errides mine ancient right,I tarry but to claim your law, not knowingIf wrath of mine shall blast your state or spare

ATHENAMine is the right to add the final vote,And I award it to Orestes’ cause.For me no mother bore within her womb,And, save for wedlock evermore eschewed,I vouch myself the champion of the man,Not of the woman, yea, with all my soul,—In heart, as birth, a father’s child alone.Thus will I not too heinously regardA woman’s death who did her husband slay,The guardian of her home; and if the votesEqual do fall, Orestes shall prevail.Ye of the judges who are named thereto,Swiftly shake forth the lots from either urn.

[Two judges come forward, one to each urn.

ORESTESO bright Apollo, what shall be the end?

CHORUSO Night, dark mother mine, dost mark these things?

OSESTESNow shall my doom be life, or strangling cords.

CHORUSAnd mine, lost honour or a wider sway.

APOLLOO stranger judges, sum aright the countOf votes cast forth, and, parting them, take heedYe err not in decision. The defaultOf one vote only bringeth ruin deep,One, cast aright, doth stablish house and home.

ATHENABehold, this man is free from guilt of blood,For half the votes condemn him, half set free!

ORESTESO Pallas, light and safety of my home,Thou, thou hast given me back to dwell once moreIn that my fatherland, amerced of whichI wandered; now shall Grecian lips say this,The man is Argive once again, and dwellsAgain within his father’s wealthy hall,By Pallas saved, by Loxias, and by Him,The great third saviour, Zeus omnipotent—Who thus in pity for my father’s fateDoth pluck me from my doom, beholding these,Confederates of my mother. Lo, I passTo mine own home, but proffering this vowUnto thy land and people:Nevermore,Thro’ all the manifold years of Time to be,Shall any chieftain of mine Argive landBear hitherward his spears for fight arrayed.For we, though lapped in earth we then shall lie,By thwart adversities will work our willOn them who shall transgress this oath of mine,Paths of despair and journeyings ill-starredFor them ordaining, till their task they rue.But if this oath be rightly kept, to themWill we the dead be full of grace, the whileWith loyal league they honour Pallas’ town.And now farewell, thou and thy city’s folk—Firm be thine arm’s grasp, closing with thy foes,And, strong to save, bring victory to thy spear.

[Exit Orestes, with Apollo.

CHORUSWoe on you, younger gods! the ancient rightYe have o’erridden, rent it from my hands.

I am dishonoured of you, thrust to scorn!But heavily my wrathShall on this land fling forth the drops that blast and burnVenom of vengeance, that shall work such scatheAs I have suffered; where that dew shall fall,Shall leafless blight arise,Wasting Earth’s offspring,—Justice, hear my call!—And thorough all the land in deadly wiseShall scatter venom, to exude againIn pestilence on men.What cry avails me now, what deed of blood,Unto this land what dark despite?Alack, alack, forlornAre we, a bitter injury have borne!Alack, O sisters, O dishonoured broodOf mother Night!

ATHENANay, bow ye to my words, chafe not nor moan:Ye are not worsted nor disgraced; behold,With balanced vote the cause had issue fair,Nor in the end did aught dishonour thee.But thus the will of Zeus shone clearly forth,And his own prophet-god avouched the same,Orestes slew: his slaying is atoned.Therefore I pray you, not upon this landShoot forth the dart of vengeance; be appeased,Nor blast the land with blight, nor loose thereonDrops of eternal venom, direful dartsWasting and marring nature’s seed of growth.

For I, the queen of Athens’ sacred right,Do pledge to you a holy sanctuaryDeep in the heart of this my land, made justBy your indwelling presence, while ye sitHard by your sacred shrines that gleam with oilOf sacrifice, and by this folk adored.

CHORUSWoe on you, younger gods! the ancient rightYe have o’erridden, rent it from my hands.

I am dishonoured of you, thrust to scorn!But heavily my wrathShall on his land fling forth the drops that blast and burn.Venom of vengeance, that shall work such scatheAs I have suffered; where that dew shall fall,Shall leafless blight arise,Wasting Earth’s offspring,—Justice, hear my call!—And thorough all the land in deadly wiseShall scatter venom, to exude againIn pestilence of men.What cry avails me now, what deed of blood,Unto this land what dark despite?Alack, alack, forlornAre we, a bitter injury have borne!Alack, O sisters, O dishonoured broodOf mother Night!

ATHENADishonoured are ye not; turn not, I pray.As goddesses your swelling wrath on men,Nor make the friendly earth despiteful to them.I too have Zeus for champion—’tis enough—I only of all goddesses do know.To ope the chamber where his thunderboltsLie stored and sealed; but here is no such need.Nay, be appeased, nor cast upon the groundThe malice of thy tongue, to blast the world;Calm thou thy bitter wrath’s black inward surge,For high shall be thine honour, set beside meFor ever in this land, whose fertile lapShall pour its teeming firstfruits unto you,Gifts for fair childbirth and for wedlock’s crown:Thus honoured, praise my spoken pledge for aye.

CHORUSI, I dishonoured in this earth to dwell,—Ancient of days and wisdom! I breathe forthPoison and breath of frenzied ire. O Earth,Woe, woe, for thee, for me!From side to side what pains be these that thrill?Hearken, O mother Night, my wrath, mine agony!Whom from mine ancient rights the gods have thrust,And brought me to the dust—Woe, woe is me!—with craft invincible.

ATHENAOlder art thou than I, and I will bearWith this thy fury. Know, although thou beMore wise in ancient wisdom, yet have IFrom Zeus no scanted measure of the same,Wherefore take heed unto this prophecy—If to another land of alien menYe go, too late shall ye feel longing deepFor mine. The rolling tides of time bring roundA day of brighter glory for this town;And thou, enshrined in honour by the hallsWhere dwelt Erechtheus, shalt a worship winFrom men and from the train of womankind,Greater than any tribe elsewhere shall pay.Cast thou not therefore on this soil of mineWhetstones that sharpen souls to bloodshedding.The burning goads of youthful hearts, made hotWith frenzy of the spirit, not of wine.Nor pluck as ’twere the heart from cocks that strive,To set it in the breasts of citizensOf mine, a war-god’s spirit, keen for fight,Made stern against their country and their kin.The man who grievously doth lust for fame,War, full, immitigable, let him wageAgainst the stranger; but of kindred birdsI hold the challenge hateful. Such the boonI proffer thee—within this land of lands,Most loved of gods, with me to show and shareFair mercy, gratitude and grace as fair.

CHORUSI, I dishonoured in this earth to dwell,—Ancient of days and wisdom! I breathe forthPoison and breath of frenzied ire. O Earth,Woe, woe for thee, for me!From side to side what pains be these that thrill?Hearken, O mother Night, my wrath, mine agony!Whom from mine ancient rights the gods have thrust,And brought me to the dust—Woe, woe is me!—with craft invincible.

ATHENAI will not weary of soft words to thee,That never mayst thou say,Behold me spurned,An elder by a younger deity,And from this land rejected and forlorn,Unhonoured by the men who dwell therein.But, if Persuasion’s grace be sacred to thee,Soft in the soothing accents of my tongue,Tarry, I pray thee; yet, if go thou wilt,Not rightfully wilt thou on this my townSway down the scale that beareth wrath and teenOr wasting plague upon this folk. ’Tis thine,If so thou wilt, inheritress to beOf this my land, its utmost grace to win.

CHORUSO queen, what refuge dost thou promise me?

ATHENARefuge untouched by bale: take thou my boon.

CHORUSWhat, if I take it, shall mine honour be?

ATHENANo house shall prosper without grace of thine.

CHORUSCanst thou achieve and grant such power to me?

ATHENAYea, for my hand shall bless thy worshippers.

CHORUSAnd wilt thou pledge me this for time eterne?

ATHENAYea: none can bid me pledge beyond my power.

CHORUSLo, I desist from wrath, appeased by thee.

ATHENAThen in the land’s heart shalt thou win thee friends.

CHORUSWhat chant dost bid me raise, to greet the land?

ATHENASuch as aspires towards a victoryUnrued by any: chants from breast of earth,From wave, from sky; and let the wild winds’ breathPass with soft sunlight o’er the lap of land,—Strong wax the fruits of earth, fair teem the kine,Unfailing, for my town’s prosperity,And constant be the growth of mortal seed.But more and more root out the impious,For as a gardener fosters what he sows,So foster I this race, whom righteousnessDoth fend from sorrow. Such the proffered boon.But I, if wars must be, and their loud clashAnd carnage, for my town, will ne’er endureThat aught but victory shall crown her fame.

CHORUSLo, I accept it; at her very sideDoth Pallas bid me dwell:I will not wrong the city of her pride,Which even Almighty Zeus and Ares holdHeaven’s earthly citadel,Loved home of Grecian gods, the young, the old,The sanctuary divine,The shield of every shrine!For Athens I say forth a gracious prophecy,—The glory of the sunlight and the skiesShall bid from earth ariseWarm wavelets of new life and glad prosperity.

ATHENABehold, with gracious heart well pleasedI for my citizens do grantFulfilment of this covenant:And here, their wrath at length appeased,These mighty deities shall stay,For theirs it is by right to swayThe lot that rules our mortal day,And he who hath not inly feltTheir stern decree, ere long on him,Not knowing why and whence, the grimLife-crushing blow is dealt.The father’s sin upon the childDescends, and sin is silent death,And leads him on the downward path,By stealth beguiled,Unto the Furies: though his stateOn earth were high, and loud his boast,Victim of silent ire and hateHe dwells among the Lost.

CHORUSTo my blessing now give ear.—Scorching blight nor singèd airNever blast thine olives fair!Drouth, that wasteth bud and plant,Keep to thine own place. Avaunt,Famine fell, and come not hitherStealthily to waste and wither!Let the land, in season due,Twice her waxing fruits renew;Teem the kine in double measure;Rich in new god-given treasure;Here let men the powers adoreFor sudden gifts unhoped before!

ATHENAO hearken, warders of the wallThat guards mine Athens, what a dowerIs unto her ordained and given!For mighty is the Furies’ power,And deep-revered in courts of heavenAnd realms of hell; and clear to allThey weave thy doom, mortality!And some in joy and peace shall sing;But unto other some they bringSad life and tear-dimmed eye.

CHORUSAnd far away I ban thee and remove,Untimely death of youths too soon brought low!And to each maid, O gods, when time is come for love,Grant ye a warrior’s heart, a wedded life to know.Ye too, O Fates, children of mother Night,Whose children too are we, O goddessesOf just award, of all by sacred rightQueens who in time and in eternityDo rule, a present power for righteousness,Honoured beyond all Gods, hear ye and grant my cry!

ATHENAAnd I too, I with joy am fain,Hearing your voice this gift ordainUnto my land. High thanks be thine,Persuasion, who with eyes divineInto my tongue didst look thy strength,To bend and to appease at lengthThose who would not be comforted.Zeus, king of parley, doth prevail,And ye and I will strive nor fail,That good may stand in evil’s stead,And lasting bliss for bale.

CHORUSAnd nevermore these walls withinShall echo fierce sedition’s dinUnslaked with blood and crime;The thirsty dust shall nevermoreSuck up the darkly streaming goreOf civic broils, shed out in wrathAnd vengeance, crying death for death!But man with man and state with stateShall vowThe pledge of common hateAnd common friendship, that for manHath oft made blessing out of ban,Be ours unto all time.

ATHENASkill they, or not, the path to findOf favouring speech and presage kind?Yea, even from these, who, grim and stern,Glared anger upon you of old,O citizens, ye now shall earnA recompense right manifold.Deck them aright, extol them high,Be loyal to their loyalty,And ye shall make your town and landSure, propped on Justice’ saving hand,And Fame’s eternity.

CHORUSHail ye, all hail! and yet again, all hailO Athens, happy in a weal secured!O ye who sit by Zeus’ right hand, nor failOf wisdom set among you and assured,Loved of the well-loved Goddess-Maid! the KingOf gods doth reverence you, beneath her guarding wing.

ATHENAAll hail unto each honoured guest!Whom to the chambers of your rest’Tis mine to lead, and to provideThe hallowed torch, the guard and guide.Pass down, the while these altars glowWith sacred fire, to earth belowAnd your appointed shrine.There dwelling, from the land restrainThe force of fate, the breath of bane,But waft on us the gift and gainOf Victory divine!And ye, the men of Cranaos’ seed,I bid you now with reverence leadThese alien Powers that thus are madeAthenian evermore. To youFair be their will henceforth, to doWhate’er may bless and aid!

CHORUSHail to you all! hail yet again,All who love Athens, Gods and men,Adoring her as Pallas’ home!And while ye reverence what ye grant—My sacred shrine and hidden haunt—Blameless and blissful be your doom!

ATHENAOnce more I praise the promise of your vows,And now I bid the golden torches’ glowPass down before you to the hidden depthOf earth, by mine own sacred servants borne,Mv loyal guards of statue and of shrine.Come forth, O flower of Theseus’ Attic land,O glorious band of children and of wives,And ye, O train of matrons crowned with eld!Deck you with festal robes of scarlet dyeIn honour of this day: O gleaming torch,Lead onward, that these gracious powers of earthHenceforth be seen to bless the life of men.

[Athena leads the procession downwards into the Cave of the Furies, under Areopagus: as they go, the escort of women and children chant aloud.

CHANTWith loyalty we lead you; proudly go,Night’s childless children, to your home below!(O citizens, awhile from words forbear!)To darkness’ deep primeval lair,Far in Earth’s bosom, downward fare,Adored with prayer and sacrifice.(O citizens, forbear your cries!)Pass hitherward, ye powers of Dread,With all your former wrath allayed,Into the heart of this loved land;With joy unto your temple wend,The while upon your steps attendThe flames that fed upon the brand—(Now, now ring out your chant, your joy’s acclaim!)Behind them, as they downward fare,Let holy hands libations bear,And torches’ sacred flame.All-seeing Zeus and Fate come downTo battle fair for Pallas’ town!Ring out your chant, ring out your joy’s acclaim!

[Exeunt omnes.

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