Tyndareus = Leda = Zeus
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Clytemnestra Castor Polydeuces Helen
[P. 1, l. 1.]—The Watchman, like most characters in Greek tragedy,
comes from the Homeric tradition, though in Homer (Od. iv. 524) he is
merely a servant of Aigisthos.
[P. 2, l. 28, Women’s triumph cry.]—This cry of the women recurs
several times in the play: cf. p. 26, ll. 587 ff., p. 55, l. 1234. It
is conventionally represented by “ololû”; as the cry to Apollo, Paian
is “I-ê,” l. 146, and Cassandra’s sob is “ototoi” or “otototoi,” p.
47.
[Pp. 3 f., ll. 40 ff.]—With this silent scene of Clytemnestra’s,
compare the long silence of Cassandra below, and the silence of
Prometheus in that play until his torturers have left him. See the
criticism of Aeschylus in Aristophanes, _Frogs_, ll. 911-920, pp. 68,
69 in my translation.
[P. 5, l. 104, Sign of the War-Way.]—i.e. an ominous sign seen by the
army as it started on its journey. In Homer, Iliad, ll. 305-329, it is
a snake which eats the nine young of a mother bird and then the
mother, and is turned into stone afterwards.—All through this chorus
the language of the prophet Calchas is intentionally obscure and
riddling—the style of prophesy.
[P. 7, l. 146, But I-ê, i-ê.]—(Pronounce _Ee-ay_.) Calchas, catching
sight in his vision of the further consequences which Artemis will
exact if she fulfils the sign, calls on Apollo Paian, the Healer, to
check her.
[P. 7, l. 160, Zeus, whate’er He be.]—This conception of Zeus is
expressed also in Aeschylus’ _Suppliant Women_, and was probably
developed in the Prometheus Trilogy. See my _Rise of the Greek Epic_,
p. 291 (Ed. 2).
It is connected with the common Greek conception of the _Tritos
Sôtêr_— the Saviour Third. First, He who sins; next, He who
avenges; third, He who saves. In vegetation worship it is the Old
Year who has committed Hubris, the sin of pride, in summer; the
Winter who slays him; the New Year which shall save. In mythology
the three successive Rulers of Heaven are given by Hesiod as
Ouranos, Kronos, Zeus (cf. _Prometheus_, 965 ff.), but we cannot
tell if Aeschylus accepted the Hesiodic story. Cf. note on l. 246,
and Clytemnestra’s blasphemy at l. 1387, p. 63.
[P. 9, l. 192, Winds from Strymon.]—From the great river gorge of
Thrace, NNE; cf. below, l. 1418.
[P. 9, l. 201, Artemis.]—Her name was terrible, because of its
suggestion. She demanded the sacrifice of Agamemnon’s daughter,
Iphigenîa. (See Euripides’ two plays, _Iphigenia in Tauris_ and
_Iphigenia in Aulis_.) In other poets Agamemnon has generally
committed some definite sin against Artemis, but in Aeschylus the
death of Iphigenîa seems to be merely one of the results of his
acceptance of the Sign.
[P. 10, l. 215, ’Tis a Rite of old.]—Literally “it is Themis.” Human
sacrifice had had a place in the primitive religion of Greece; hence
Agamemnon could not reject the demand of the soldiers as an obvious
crime. See _Rise of Greek Epic_, pp. 150-157.
[P. 11, l. 246, The Third Cup.]—Regularly poured to Zeus Sôtêr, the
Saviour, and accompanied by a paean or cry of joy.
[P. 11, l. 256, This Heart of Argos, this frail Tower:]—i.e.
themselves.
[P. 11, l. 264, Glad-voiced.]—Clytemnestra is in extreme suspense, as
the return of Agamemnon will mean either her destruction or her
deliverance. At such a moment there must be no ill-omened word, so she
challenges fate.
[P. 12, l. 276, A word within that hovereth without wings.]—i.e. a
presentiment. “Winged words” are words spoken, which fly from speaker
to hearer. A ‘wingless’ word is unspoken. The phrase occurs in Homer.
[Pp. 13 ff., ll. 281 ff.]—Beacon Speech. There is no need to inquire
curiously into the practical possibility of this chain of beacons.
Greek tragedies do not care to be exact about this kind of detail.
There may well have been a tradition that Agamemnon, like the Great
King of Persia, used a chain of beacons across the Aegean.—Note how
vividly Clytemnestra’s imagination is working in her excitement. She
seems to see before her every leaping light in the chain, just as in
the next speech she imagines the scene in Troy almost with the
intensity of a vision.
[P. 14, l. 314, Victory in the first as in the last.]—All are Victory
beacons; the spirit of Victory infects them all equally. Cf. l. 854
below, where Agamemnon prays that the Victory which is now with him,
or in him, may abide.
[P. 15, l. 348, A woman’s word.]—Her hatred and fear of Agamemnon,
making her feel vividly the horrors of the sack and the peril
overhanging the conquerors, have carried her dangerously far. She
checks herself and apologizes for her womanlike anxiety. Cf. l. 1661,
p. 77.
[P. 18, ll. 409 ff., Seers they saw visions.]—A difficult and
uncertain passage. I think the seers attached to the royal household
(cf. _Libation-Bearers,_ l. 37, where they are summoned to read a
dream) were rather like what we call clairvoyants. Being consulted,
they look into some pool of liquid or the like; there they see
gradually emerging the palace, the injured King, the deserted room,
and at last a wraith of Helen herself, haunting the place.
[P. 21, l. 487.]—This break in the action, covering a space of several
days, was first pointed out by Dr. Walter Headlam. Incidentally it
removes the gravest of the difficulties raised by Dr. Verrall in his
famous essay upon the plot of the _Agamemnon_.
[P. 21, l. 495, Dry dust, own brother to the mire of war.]—i.e. “I can
see by the state of his clothes, caked with dry dust which was once
the mire of battle, that he comes straight from the war and can speak
with knowledge.” The Herald is probably (though perhaps not quite
consistently) conceived as having rushed post-haste with his news.
[Pp. 22 ff., HERALD.]—The Herald bursts in overcome with excitement
and delight, full of love for his home and everything he sees. A
marked contrast to Agamemnon, ll. 810 ff. Note that his first speech
confirms all the worst fears suggested by Clytemnestra. Agamemnon has
committed all the sins she prayed against, and more. The terrible
lines 527 ff., “Till her Gods’ Houses, etc.,” are very like a passage
in the _Persae_, 811 ff., where exactly the same acts by the Persian
invaders of Greece make their future punishment inevitable.
[P. 22, l. 509, Pythian Lord.]—Apollo is often a sinister figure in
tragedy. Cf. Sophocles _Oedipus_ , ll. 915 ff., pp. 52 ff., and the
similar scene, _Electra_, 655 ff. Here it is a shock to the Herald to
come suddenly on the god who was the chief enemy of the Greeks at
Troy. One feels Apollo an evil presence also in the Cassandra scene,
11. 1071 ff., pp. 47 ff.
[P. 23, l. 530, Happy among men.]—The crown of his triumph! Early
Greek thought was always asking the question, What is human happiness?
To the Herald Agamemnon has achieved happiness if any one ever did.
Cf. the well-known story of Croesus asking Solon who was the happiest
man in the world (Herodotus, I. 30-33).
[P. 24, ll. 551 ff., Herald’s second speech.]—The connexion of thought
is: “After all, why should either of us wish to die? All has ended
well.” This vivid description of the actualities of war can be better
appreciated now than it could in 1913.
[P. 25, l. 577, These spoils.]—Spoils purporting to come from the
Trojan War were extant in Greek temples in Aeschylus’ day and later.
[P. 26, l. 595, Our women’s joy-cry.]—There seems to have been in
Argos an old popular festival, celebrating with joy or mockery the
supposed death of a man and a woman. Homer (Od. iii. 309 f.) derives
it from a rejoicing by Orestes over Aigisthos and Clytemnestra; cf.
below, ll. 1316 ff., p. 59; Aeschylus here and Sophocles in the
_Electra_, from a celebration by Clytemnestra of the deaths of
Agamemnon and Cassandra. Probably it was really some ordinary New Year
and Old Year celebration to which the poets give a tragic touch. It
seems to have had a woman’s “Ololugmos” in it, perhaps uttered by men.
See Kaibel’s note, Soph. _Electra_ 277-281.
[P. 26, l. 612, Bronze be dyed like wool.]—Impossible in the literal
sense, but there is after all a way of dying a sword red!
[P. 27, l. 617, Menelaus.]—This digression about Menelaus is due, as
similar digressions generally are when they occur in Greek plays, to
the poet feeling bound to follow the tradition. Homer begins his
longest account of the slaying of Agamemnon by asking “Where was
Menelaus?” (Od. iii. 249). Agamemnon could be safely attacked because
he was alone. Menelaus was away, wrecked or wind-bound.
[P. 28, l. 642, Two-fold scourge.]—Ares works his will when spear
crosses spear, when man meets man. Hence “two-fold.”
[P. 29, CHORUS. The name HELENA.]—There was a controversy in
Aeschylus’ day whether language, including names, was a matter of
Convention or of Nature. Was it mere accident, and could you change
the name of anything at will? Or was language a thing rooted in nature
and fixed by God from of old? Aeschylus adopts the latter view: Why
was this being called Helena? If one had understood God’s purpose one
would have seen it was because she really _was_
“Helenâs”—_Ship-destroyer_. (The Herald’s story of the shipwreck has
suggested this particular idea.) Similarly, if a hero was called Aias,
and came to great sorrow, one could see that he was so called from
‘Aiai,’ “Alas!”—The antistrophe seems to find a meaning in the name
Paris or Alexandras, where the etymology is not so clear.
[Pp. 33 ff.]—Entrance of Agamemnon. The metre of the Chorus indicates
marching; so that apparently the procession takes some time to move
across the orchestra and get into position. Cassandra would be
dressed, as a prophetess, in a robe of white reaching to the feet,
covered by an _agrênon_, or net of wool with large meshes; she would
have a staff and certain fillets or crowns. The Leader welcomes the
King: he explains that, though he was against the war ten years ago,
and has not changed his opinion, he is a faithful servant of the King
… and that not all are equally so. He gave a similar hint to the
Herald above, ll. 546-550, p. 24.
[P. 35, Agamemnon.]—A hard, cold speech, full of pride in the earlier
part, and turning to ominous threats at the end. Those who have dared
to be false shall be broken.—At the end comes a note of fear, like the
fear in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar. He is so full of triumph and
success; he must be very careful not to provoke a fall.—Victory, Nike,
was to the Greeks a very vivid and infectious thing. It clung to you
or it deserted you. And one who was really charged with Victory, like
Agamemnon, was very valuable to his friends and people. Hence they
made statues of Victory wingless—so that she should not fly away. See
_Four Stages of Greek Religion_, p. 138 note.
[P. 36, Clytemnestra.]—A wonderful speech. It seems to me that
Aeschylus’ imagination realized all the confused passions in
Clytemnestra’s mind, but that his art was not yet sufficiently
developed to make them all clear and explicit. She is in suspense;
does Agamemnon know her guilt or not? At least, if she is to die, she
wants to say something to justify or excuse herself in the eyes of the
world. A touch of hysteria creeps in; why could he not have been
killed in all these years? Why must he rise, like some monster from
the grave, unkillable? Gradually she recovers her calm, explains
clearly the suspicious point of Orestes’ absence, and heaps up her
words and gestures of welcome to an almost oriental fullness (which
Agamemnon rebukes, ll. 918 ff., p. 39). Again, at the end, when she
finds that for the time she is safe, her real feelings almost break
out.
[P. 38.]—What is the motive of the Crimson Tapestries? I think the
tangling robe must have been in the tradition, as the murder in the
bath certainly was. One motive, of course, is obvious: Clytemnestra is
tempting Agamemnon to sin or “go too far.” He tries to resist, but the
splendour of an oriental homecoming seduces him and he yields. But is
that enough to account for such a curious trait in the story, and one
so strongly emphasized? We are told afterwards that Clytemnestra threw
over her victim an “endless web,” long and rich (p. 63), to prevent
his seeing or using his arms. And I cannot help suspecting that this
endless web was the same as the crimson pall.
If one tries to conjecture the origin of this curious story, it is
perhaps a clue to realize that the word _droitê_ means both a bath
and a sarcophagus, or rather that the thing called droitê, a narrow
stone or marble vessel about seven feet long, was in pre-classical
and post-classical times used as a sarcophagus, but in classical
times chiefly or solely as a bath. If among the prehistoric graves
at Mycenae some later peasants discovered a royal mummy or skeleton
in a sarcophagus, wrapped in a robe of royal crimson, and showing
signs of violent death—such as Schliemann believed that he
discovered—would they not say: “We found the body of a King
murdered in a bath, and wrapped round and round in a great robe?”
[P. 39 f.]—Agamemnon is going through the process of temptation. He
protests rather too often and yields.
[P. 39, l. 931, Tell me but this.]—This little dialogue is very
characteristic of Aeschylus. Euripides would have done it at three
times the length and made all the points clear. In Aeschylus the
subtlety is there, but it is not easy to follow.
[P. 40, l. 945, These bound slaves.]—i.e. his shoes. The metaphor
shows the trend of his unconscious mind.
[P. 41, l. 950, This princess.]—This is the first time that the
attention of the audience is drawn to Cassandra. She too is one of
Aeschylus’ silent figures. I imagine her pale, staring in front of
her, almost as if in a trance, until terror seizes her at
Clytemnestra’s greeting in l. 1035, p. 45.
[P. 41, l. 964, The cry.]—i.e. the cry of the possessed prophetess
which rang from the inner sanctuary at Delphi and was interpreted by
the priests.—The last two lines of the speech are plain in their
meaning but hard to translate. Literally: “when the full, or
fulfilled, man walketh his home,—O Zeus the Fulfiller, fulfil my
prayers.”
[P. 42, l. 976.]—The victim has been drawn into the house; the Chorus
sing a low boding song: every audience at a Greek tragedy would expect
next to hear a death cry from within, or to see a horrified messenger
rush out. Instead of which the door opens and there is Clytemnestra:
what does she want? “Come thou also!” One victim is not enough.—In the
next scene we must understand the cause of Clytemnestra’s impatience.
If she stays too long outside, some one will warn Agamemnon; if she
leaves Cassandra, she with her second sight will warn the Chorus. If
Cassandra could only be got inside all would be safe!
[P. 44, l. 1022, “One there was of old.”]—Asklêpios, the physician,
restored Hippolytus to life, and Zeus blasted him for so oversetting
the laws of nature.
[P. 45, l. 1040, Alcmêna’s son.]—Heracles was made a slave to Omphalê,
Queen of Lydia. His grumbles at his insufficient food were a theme of
comedy.
[P. 45, l. 1049, Belike thou canst not yet.]—Cf. below, ll. 1066 ff.
The Elder speaks in sympathy. “Very likely you cannot yet bring
yourself to submit.”
[P. 46, l. 1061, Thou show her.]—It seems odd to think that this
passage has for centuries been translated as if it was all addressed
to Cassandra: “But if you do not understand what I say, please
indicate the same with your barbarous hand!”—What makes Cassandra at
last speak? I think that the Elder probably touches her, and the touch
as it were breaks the spell.
[P. 47, l. 1072, Cassandra.]—“Otototoi” really takes the place of a
stage direction: she utters a long low sob.—The exclamation which I
have translated “Dreams!” seems to occur when people see ghosts or
visions. _Alcestis_, 261; _Prometheus_, 567. Cf. _Phoenissae_
1296.—“Mine enemy!” The name “Apollon” suggested “_apollyon,”_
Destroying … the form which is actually used in the Book of Revelation
(Rev. ix. 11).
Observe how, during the lyric scene, Cassandra’s vision grows
steadily more definite: First vague horror of the House: then the
sobbing of children, slain long ago: then, a new deed of blood
coming; a woman in it: a wife: then, with a great effort, an
attempt to describe the actual slaying in the bath. Lastly, the
sight of herself among the slain. (This last point is greatly
developed by Euripides, _Trojan Women_, ll. 445 ff., pp. 33 f.).
The story of the Children of Thyestes is given below, ll. 1590 ff.,
p. 73. Procnê (or Philomêla) was an Attic princess who, in fury
against her Thracian husband, Tereus, killed their child Itys, or
Itylus, and was changed into a nightingale, to weep for him for
ever.
[P. 52, ll. 1178 ff.]—Dialogue. During the lyrics Cassandra has been
“possessed” or “entranced”: the turn to dialogue marks a conscious
attempt to control herself and state plainly her message of warning.
In order to prove her power, she first tells the Elders of deeds done
in the past which are known to them but cannot have been known to her.
When once they are convinced of her true seercraft, she will be able
to warn them of what is coming!—The short ‘stichom[^y]thia’[**TR: This
is a y with a circumflex, not a superscript.] (line for line
dialogue), dealing in awed whispers with things which can hardly be
spoken, leaves the story of Cassandra still a mystery. Then her
self-control breaks and the power of the God sweeps irresistibly upon
her; cf. below, ll. 1256 ff.; where it comes at her like a visible
shape of fire, a thing not uncommon with modern clairvoyants.
[P. 56, l. 1252, Thou art indeed fallen far astray]—Because they had
said “what _man_”
[P. 56, l. 1265, These wreathed bands, this staff of prophesy.]—Cf.
_Trojan Women_, ll. 451 ff., p. 34.
[P. 60, ll. 1343 ff., The death cry; the hesitation of the
Elders.]—This scene is often condemned or even ridiculed; I think,
through misunderstanding. We knew the Old Men were helpless, like
“dreams wandering in the day.” It is essential to the story that when
the crisis comes they shall be found wanting. But they are neither
foolish nor cowardly; each utterance in itself is natural and
characteristic, but counsels are divided. One would like to know
whether Aeschylus made them speak together confusedly, as would
certainly be done on the modern stage, or whether the stately
conventions of Greek tragedy preferred that each speaker should finish
his say. In any case, what happens is that after a moment or two of
confused counsel the Elders determine to break into the Palace, but as
they are mounting the steps the great doors are flung open and
Clytemnestra confronts them, standing over the dead bodies of
Agamemnon and Cassandra.
The illusion intended is that the Elders have entered the Palace
and discovered Clytemnestra. But, as the mechanical arrangements of
the Greek stage were not equal to this sudden change of scene, and
since also it would, even with perfect machinery, have a tiresome
interrupting effect, a slight confusion or inconsistency is
allowed. We are supposed to be inside the house; but as a matter of
fact the supposition is soon forgotten, and the play goes on
without any attention to the particular place of the action. On
Clytemnestra’s speech see Introduction, p. xiii.
[P. 63, l. 1387, A prayer well sped to Zeus of Hell]—As the third gift
or libation was ritually given to Zeus the Saviour, Clytemnestra
blasphemously suggests that her third and unnecessary blow was an
acceptable gift to a sort of anti-Zeus, a Saviour of Death.
[P. 65, l. 1436, Aigisthos.]—At last the name is mentioned which has
been in the mind of every one!—Chrysêïs was a prisoner of war,
daughter of Chrysês, priest of Apollo. Agamemnon was made to surrender
her to her father, and from this arose his quarrel with Achilles,
which is the subject of the Iliad.
[Pp. 67-72, ll. 1468-1573, Daemon.]—The Genius or guardian spirit of
the house has in this House become a Wrath, an ‘Alastor’ or ‘Driver
Astray.’ See Introduction, pp. x ff.
[P. 68, l. 1513, MOURNERS.]—This attribution of the different speeches
or songs to different speakers is, of course, conjectural. Ancient
dramas come down to us with no stage directions and very imperfect
indications of the speakers.
[P. 72, l. 1579, AIGISTHOS.]—The entry of Aigisthos enlivens the scene
again after the brooding and bewildered end of the dialogue between
Clytemnestra and the Elders. At the same time, it seems, no doubt by
deliberate intention, to reduce it to commonplace. Aigisthos’
self-defence is largely justified, but he is no hero.
[P. 73, l. 1602, Pleisthenês.]—Apparently one of the ancestors of
Atreus, but it is not clear where he comes in the genealogy. He may be
identical with Pelops.
[P. 74, l. 1617, Oarsman of the nether row.]—On an ancient galley,
bireme or trireme, the rowers of the lower bank of oars ranked as
inferior to those who used the long oars from the deck.
[P. 76, l. 1654.]—Clytemnestra, see Introduction, p. xiii. She longs
for peace, yet after all “Had Zimri peace who slew his master?” The
end of the play leaves us waiting for the return of Orestes. In the
first scene of the _Libation-Bearers,_ he is discovered standing by
night at his father’s grave.