CLY. Will do what without the mother, [of those things] which it behooves
me to do?
AG. --will bestow your daughter among the Greeks.
CLY. But where must I be in the mean time?
AG. Go to Argos, and take care of your virgins.
CLY. Leaving my child? And who will bear the [nuptial] torch?
AG. I will furnish the light that becomes the nuptials.
CLY. The custom is not thus, but you think these matters trifles.
AG. It is not proper that thou shouldst mingle in the crowd of the army.
CLY. It is proper that I, the mother, should bestow at least my own
daughter.
AG. And it [is proper] that the damsels at home should not be alone.
CLY. They are well guarded in their close chambers.
AG. Obey me.
CLY. [No,] by the Argive Goddess queen. But go you, and attend to matters
abroad, but I [will mind] the affairs at home, as to the things which
should be present to virgins at their wedding.[59]
AG. Alas! In vain have I toiled,[60] and have been frustrated in my hope,
wishing to send my wife out of my sight. But I am using stratagems, and
finding contrivances against those I best love, overcome at all points. But
nevertheless with the prophet Calchas I will go and ask the pleasure of the
Goddess, not fortunate for me, the trouble of Greece.[61] But it behooves a
wise man either to support a useful and good wife in his house or not to
marry at all.[62]
CHORUS. The assembly of the Grecian army will come to Simois, and to the
silver eddies, both with ships and with arms, to Ilium, and to the Phœbeian
plain of Troy, where I hear that Cassandra, adorned with a green-blossoming
crown of laurel, lets loose her yellow locks, when the prophetic influence
of the Gods breathes upon her. And the Trojans will stand upon the towers
of Troy and around its walls, when brazen-shielded Mars, borne over the sea
in fair-prowed ships, approaches the beds of Simois by rowing, seeking to
bear away Helen, [the sister] of the twain sons of Jove in heaven, into the
land of Greece, by the war-toiling shields and spears of the Greeks. But
having surrounded Pergamus,[63] the city of the Phrygians, around its
towers of stone, with bloody Mars, having torn off the heads [of the
citizens] cut from their necks, having completely ravaged the city of Troy,
he will make the daughters and wife of Priam shed many tears. But Helen,
the daughter of Jove, will sit† in sad lamentation, having left her
husband. Never upon me or upon my children's children may this expectation
come, such as the wealthy Lydian and Phrygian wives possess while at their
spinning, conversing thus with each other. Who,[64] dragging out my
fair-haired tresses, will choose me as his spoil despite my tears, while my
country is perishing? Through thee [forsooth,] the offspring of the
long-necked swan, if indeed the report is true, that Leda † met with[65] a
winged bird, when the body of Jove was transformed, and then in the tablets
of the muses fables spread these reports among men, inopportunely, and in
vain.
[_Enter_ ACHILLES.]
ACHILLES. Where about here is the general of the Greeks? Who of the
servants will tell him that Achilles, the son of Peleus, is seeking him at
the gates? For we do not remain by the Euripus in equal condition; for some
of us being unyoked in nuptials, having left our solitary homes, sit here
upon the shore, but others, having wives and children:[66] so violent a
passion for this expedition has fallen upon Greece, not without the will of
the Gods. It is therefore right that I should speak of what concerns me,
and whoever else wishes will himself speak for himself. For leaving the
Pharsalian land, and Peleus, I am waiting for these light gales of
Euripus,[67] restraining the Myrmidons, who are continually pressing me,
and saying, "Achilles, why tarry we? what manner of time must the armament
against Troy yet measure out? At any rate act, if you are going to do any
thing, or lead the army home, not abiding the delays of the Atrides."
CLY. O son of the Goddess, daughter of Nereus, hearing from within thy
words, I have come out before the house.
ACH. O hallowed modesty, who can this woman be whom I behold here,
possessing a fair-seeming form?
CLY. It is no wonder that you know me not, whom you have never seen before,
but I commend you because you respect modesty.
ACH. But who art thou? And wherefore hast thou come to the assembly of the
Greeks, a woman to men guarded with shields?
CLY. I am the daughter of Leda, and Clytæmnestra is my name, and my husband
is king Agamemnon.
ACH. Well hast thou in few words spoken what is seasonable. But it is
unbecoming for me to converse with women. (_Is going_.)
CLY. Remain, (why dost thou fly?) at least join thy right hand with mine,
as a happy commencement of betrothal.
ACH. What sayest thou? I [give] thee my right hand? I should be ashamed of
Agamemnon, if I touched what is not lawful for me.
CLY. It is particularly lawful, since you are going to wed my daughter, O
son of the sea Goddess, daughter of Nereus.
ACH. What marriage dost thou say? Surprise possesses me, lady, unless,
being beside yourself, you speak this new thing.
CLY. This is the nature of all people, to be ashamed when they behold new
friends, and are put in mind of nuptials.
ACH. I never wooed thy daughter, lady, nor has any thing been said to me on
the subject of marriage by the Atrides.
CLY. What can it be? Do you in turn marvel at my words, for thine are a
marvel to me.
ACH. Conjecture; these matters are a common subject for conjecture, for
both of us perhaps are deceived in our words.[68]
CLY. But surely I have suffered terrible things! I am acting as match-maker
in regard to a marriage that has no existence. I am ashamed of this.
ACH. Perhaps some one has trifled with both me and thee. But pay no
attention to it, and bear it with indifference.
CLY. Farewell, for I can no longer behold thee with uplifted eyes, having
appeared as a liar, and suffered unworthy things.
ACH. And this same [farewell] is thine from me. But I will go seek thy
husband within this house.
[_The_ OLD MAN _appears at the door of the house_.]
OLD M. O stranger, grandson of Æacus, remain. Ho! thee, I say, the son of
the Goddess, and thee, the daughter of Leda.
ACH. Who is it that calls, partially opening the doors? With what terror he
calls!
OLD M. A slave. I will not be nice about the title, for fortune allows it
not.
ACH. Of whom? for thou art not mine. My property and Agamemnon's are
different.
OLD M. Of this lady who is before the house, the gift of her father
Tyndarus.
ACH. We are still. Say if thou wantest any thing, for which thou hast
stopped me.
OLD M. Are ye sure that ye alone stand before these gates?
CLY. Ay, so that you may speak to us only. But come out from the royal
dwelling.
OLD M. (Coming forward) O fortune, and foresight mine, preserve whom I
wish.
ACH. These words will do for[69] a future occasion, for they have some
weight.
CLY. By thy right hand [I beseech thee,] delay not, if thou hast aught to
say to me.
OLD M. Thou knowest then, being what manner of man, I have been by nature
well disposed to thee and thy children.
CLY. I know thee as being a faithful servant to my house.
OLD M. And that king Agamemnon received me among thy dowry.
CLY. Thou camest into Argos with us, and thou wast always mine.
OLD M. So it is, and I am well disposed to thee, but less so to thy
husband.
CLY. Unfold now at least to me what words you are saying.
OLD M. The father who begat her is about to slay thy daughter with his own
hand.
CLY. How? I deprecate thy words, old man, for thou thinkest not well.
OLD M. Cutting the fair neck of the hapless girl with the sword.
CLY. O wretched me! Is my husband mad?
OLD M. He is in his right mind, save with respect to thee and thy daughter,
but in this he is not wise.
CLY. Upon what grounds? What maddening fiend impels him?
OLD M. The oracles, as at least Calchas says, in order that the army may be
able to proceed.
CLY. Whither? Wretched me, and wretched she whom her father is about to
slay?
OLD M. To the house of Dardanus, that Menelaus may recover Helen.
CLY. To the destruction, then, of Iphigenia, was the return of Helen
foredoomed?
OLD M. Thou hast the whole story. Her father is going to offer thy daughter
to Diana.
CLY. What! what pretext had the marriage, that brought me from home?
OLD M. That thou rejoicing mightest bring thy child, as if about to wed her
to Achilles.
CLY. O daughter, both thou and thy mother are come to meet with
destruction.
OLD M. Ye twain are suffering sad things, and dreadful things hath
Agamemnon dared.
CLY. I wretched am undone, and my eyes no longer restrain the tear.
OLD M. For bitter 'tis to mourn, deprived of one's children.
CLY. But whence, old man, sayest thou that thou hast learned and knowest
these things?
OLD M. I went to bear a letter to thee, in reference to what was before
written.
CLY. Not allowing, or bidding me to bring my child, that she might die?
OLD M. [It was] that you should not bring her, for your husband then
thought well.
CLY. And how was it then, that, bearing the letter, thou gavest it not to
me?
OLD M. Menelaus, who is the cause of these evils, took it from me.
CLY. O child of Nereus' daughter, O son of Peleus, dost hear these things?
ACH. I hear that thou art wretched, and I do not bear my part
indifferently.
CLY. They will slay my child, having deceived her with thy nuptials.
ACH. I also blame thy husband, nor do I bear it lightly.
CLY. I will not be ashamed to fall down at thy knee, mortal, to one born of
a Goddess. For wherefore should I make a show of pride? Or what should I
study more than my children? But, O son of the Goddess, aid me in my
unhappiness, and her who is called thy wife, vainly indeed, but
nevertheless, having decked her out, I led her as if to be married, but now
I lead her to sacrifice, and reproach will come upon thee, who gavest no
aid. For though thou wast not yoked in nuptials, at least thou wast called
the beloved husband of the hapless virgin. By thy beard, by thy right hand,
by thy mother [I beseech] thee, for thy name hath undone me, to whom thou
shouldst needs give assistance. I have no other altar to fly to, but thy
knee, nor is any friend near me,[70] but thou hearest the cruel and
all-daring conduct of Agamemnon. But I a woman, as thou seest, have come to
a naval host, uncontrolled, and bold for mischief, but useful, when they
are willing. But if thou wilt venture to stretch thine hand in my behalf,
we are saved, but if not, we are not saved.
CHOR. A terrible thing it is to be a mother, and it bears a great
endearment, and one common to all, so as to toil on behalf of their
children.
ACH. My mind is high-lifted in its thoughts,[71] and knows both how to
grieve [moderately] in troubles, and to rejoice moderately in high
prosperity. For the discreet among mortals are such as pass through life
correctly with wisdom. Now there are certain cases where it is pleasant not
to be too wise, and also where it is useful to possess wisdom. But I, being
nurtured [in the dwelling] of a most pious man, Chiron, have learned to
possess a candid disposition. And I will obey the Atrides, if indeed they
order well, but when not well, I obey not. But here in Troy showing a free
nature I will glorify Mars with the spear, as far as I can. But, O thou who
hast suffered wretchedly at the hands of those dearest, in whatever can be
done by a youth, I, showing so much pity, will set thee right, and thy
daughter, having been called my bride, shall never be sacrificed by her
father, for I will not furnish thy husband with my person to weave
stratagems upon. For my name, even if he lift not up the sword, will slay
thy daughter, but thy husband is the cause. But my body is no longer pure,
if on my account, and because of my marriage, there perish a virgin who has
gone through sad and unbearable troubles, and has been marvelously and
undeservedly ill treated. I were the worst man among the Greeks, I were of
naught (but Menelaus would be among men), not as born from Peleus, but from
some fiend, if my name acts the murderer for thy husband.[72] By Nereus,
nurtured in the damp waves, the father of Thetis, who begat me, king
Agamemnon shall not lay hands on thy daughter, not so much as with a little
finger, so as to touch her garments. I' faith, Sipylus, a fortress of
barbarians, whence the [royal] generals trace their descent, shall be
deemed a city, but the name of Phthia shall nowhere be named. And the seer
Calchas will to his cost consecrate the sacrificial cakes and lustral
waters. (But what man is a prophet?) who tells[73] a few things true, (but
many falsely,) when he has made a hit, but when he fails, is undone. These
words are not spoken for the sake of my wedding, (ten thousand girls are
hunting after alliance with me,) but [because] king Agamemnon has been
guilty of insult toward me. But it behooved him to ask [the use of] my name
from me, as an enticement for his daughter, and Clytæmnestra would have
been most readily persuaded to give her daughter to me as a husband. And I
would have given her up to the Greeks, if on this account their passage to
Troy had been impeded: I would not have refused to augment the common
interest of those with whom I set out on the expedition. But now I am held
as of no account by the generals, and it is a matter of indifference
whether I benefit them or not. Soon shall my sword witness, which, before
death came against the Phrygians,[74] I stained with spots of blood,
whether any one shall take thy daughter from me. But keep quiet, I have
appeared to thee as a most mighty God, though not [a God,] but nevertheless
I will be such.
CHOR. O son of Peleus, thou hast spoken both worthily of thyself, and of
the marine deity, hallowed Goddess.
CLY. Alas! how can I praise thee neither too much in words, nor, being
deficient in this respect, [not] lose thy favor? For in a certain wise the
praised dislike their praisers, if they praise too much. But I am ashamed
at alleging pitiable words, being troubled in myself, while thou art not
diseased with my ills. But in fact the good man has some reason, even
though he be unconnected with them, for assisting the unfortunate. But pity
us, for we have suffered pitiably; I, who, in the first place, thinking to
have thee for a kinsman, cherished a vain hope.--Moreover, my child, by
dying, might perchance become an omen to thy future bridals,[75] which thou
must needs avoid. But well didst thou speak both first and last, for, if
thou art willing, my child will be saved. Dost wish that she embrace thy
knee as a suppliant? Such conduct is not virgin-like, but if thou wilt, she
shall come, with her noble face suffused with modesty. Or shall I obtain
these things from thee, without her presence?
ACH. Let her remain within doors, for with dignity she preserves her
dignity.
CLY. Yet one must needs have modesty [only] as far as circumstances allow.
ACH. Do thou neither bring forth thy daughter into my sight, lady, not let
us fall into reproach for inconsiderate conduct, for our assembled army,
being idle from home occupations, loves evil and slanderous talk. But at
all events you will accomplish the same, whether you come to me as a
suppliant, or do not supplicate, for a mighty contest awaits me, to release
you from these evils. Wherefore, having heard one thing, be persuaded that
I will not speak falsely. But if I speak falsely, and vainly amuse you, may
I perish; but may I not perish, if I preserve the virgin.
CLY. Mayest thou be blest, ever assisting the unhappy.
ACH. Hear me then, that the matter may be well.
CLY. What is this thou sayest? for one must listen to thee.
ACH. Let us again persuade her father to be wiser.
CLY. He is a coward, and fears the army too much.
ACH. But words can conquer words.
CLY. Chilly is the hope, but tell me what I must do.
ACH. Beseech him first not to slay his child, but if he oppose this, you
must come to me. For if he will be persuaded what you wish, there is no
occasion for my efforts, for this very [consent] contains her safety. And I
also shall appear in a better light with my friend, and the army will not
blame me, if I transact matters by discretion rather than force. And if
this turn out well, these things, even without my help, may turn out
satisfactorily to thy friends and thyself.[76]
CLY. How wisely hast thou spoken! But what thou sayest must be done. But if
I do not obtain what I seek, where shall I again see thee? Where must I
wretched woman, coming, find thee an assistant in my troubles?
ACH. We guards will watch thee when there is occasion, lest any one behold
thee going in agitation through the host of the Greeks. But do not shame
thy ancestral home, for Tyndarus is not worthy of an evil reputation,
seeing he is great among the Greeks.
CLY. These things shall be. Command; it is meet that I obey thee. But if
there are Gods, you, being a just man, will receive a good reward; but if
not, why should one toil?
CHOR. What was that nuptial song that raised[77] its strains on the Libyan
reed, and with the dance-loving lyre, and the reedy syrinx, when o'er
Pelion at the feast of the Gods the fair-haired muses, striking their feet
with golden sandals against the ground, came to the wedding of Peleus,
celebrating with melodious sounds Thetis, and the son of Æacus, on the
mountains of the Centaurs, through the Palian wood.
But the Dardan,[78] [Phrygian Ganymede,] dear delight of Jove's bed, poured
out the nectar in the golden depths of the goblets, and along the white
sands the fifty daughters of Nereus, entwining in circles, adorned the
nuptials of Nereus with the dance. But with darts of fir, and crowns of
grass, the horse-mounted troop of the Centaurs came to the banquet of the
Gods and the cup of Bacchus. And the Thessalian girls shouted loud,[79] "O
daughter of Nereus," and the prophet Phœbus, and Chiron, skilled in
letters, declared, "Thou shalt bring forth a mighty light, who shall come
to the [Trojan] land with Myrmidons armed with spear and shield, to burn
the renowned city of Priam, around his body armed with a covering of golden
arms wrought by Vulcan, having them as a gift from his Goddess Thetis, who
begat him blessed." Then the deities celebrated the nuptials of the noble
daughter of Nereus first,[80] and of Peleus. But thee, [O Iphigenia,] they
will crown on the head with flowery garlands, like as a pure spotted heifer
from a rocky cave, making bloody the mortal throat [of one] not trained up
with the pipe, nor amidst the songs of herdsmen, but as a bride[81]
prepared by thy mother for some one of the Argives. Where has the face of
shame, or virtue any power to prevail? Since impiety indeed has influence,
but virtue is left behind and disregarded by mortals, and lawlessness
governs law, and it is a common struggle for mortals, lest any envy of the
Gods befall.
CLY. I have come out of the house to seek for my husband, who has been
absent, and has quitted the house a long time. But my hapless daughter is
in tears, casting forth many a change of complaint, having heard the death
her father devises for her. But I was mindful of Agamemnon who is now
coming hither,[82] who will quickly be detected doing evil deeds against
his own children.
AG. Daughter of Leda, opportunely have I found you without the house, that
I may tell thee, apart from the virgin, words which it is not meet for
those to hear who are about to marry.
CLY. And what is it, on which your convenience lays hold?
AG. Send forth thy daughter from the house with her father, since the
lustral waters are ready prepared, and the salt-cakes to scatter with the
hands upon the purifying flame, and heifers, which needs must be slain in
honor of the Goddess Diana before the marriage solemnities, a shedding of
black gore.
CLY. In words, indeed, thou speakest well, but for thy deeds, I know not
how I may say thou speakest well. But come without, O daughter, for thou
knowest all that thy father meditates, and beneath thy robes bring the
child Orestes, thy brother. See, she is here present to obey thee. But the
rest I will speak on her behalf and mine.
AG. Child, why weepest thou, and no longer beholdest me cheerfully, but
fixing thy face upon the ground, keepest thy vest before it?
CLY. Alas! What commencement of my sorrows shall I take? For I may use them
all as first, [both last, and middle throughout.[83]]
AG. But what is it? How all of you are come to one point with me, bearing
disturbed and alarmed countenances.
CLY. Wilt thou answer candidly, husband, if I ask thee?
AG. There needs no admonition: I would fain be questioned.
CLY. Art thou going to slay thy child and mine?
AG. Ah! wretched things dost thou say, and thinkest what thou shouldst not.
CLY. Keep quiet, and first in turn answer me that.
AG. But if thou askest likely things, thou wilt hear likely.
CLY. I ask no other things, nor do thou answer me others.
AG. O revered destiny, and fate, and fortune mine!
CLY. Ay, and mine too, and this child's, one of three unfortunates!
AG. But in what art thou wronged?