These women? How? What sought they by such guile?
MESSENGER.
Of them hereafter!--Give me first thine ear
For greater things. The virgin minister
That served our altar, she hath fled from this
And stolen the dread Shape of Artemis,
With those two Greeks. The cleansing was a lie.
THOAS.
She fled?--What wild hope whispered her to fly?
MESSENGER.
The hope to save Orestes. Wonder on!
THOAS.
Orestes--how? Not Clytemnestra's son?
MESSENGER.
And our pledged altar-offering. 'Tis the same.
THOAS.
O marvel beyond marvel! By what name
More rich in wonder can I name thee right?
MESSENGER.
Give not thy mind to that. Let ear and sight
Be mine awhile; and when thou hast heard the whole
Devise how best to trap them ere the goal.
THOAS.
Aye, tell thy tale. Our Tauric seas stretch far,
Where no man may escape my wand of war.
MESSENGER.
Soon as we reached that headland of the sea,
Whereby Orestes' barque lay secretly,
We soldiers holding, by thine own commands,
The chain that bound the strangers, in our hands,
There Agamemnon's daughter made a sign,
Bidding us wait far off, for some divine
And secret fire of cleansing she must make.
We could but do her will. We saw her take
The chain in her own hands and walk behind.
Indeed thy servants bore a troubled mind,
O King, but how do else? So time went by.
Meanwhile to make it seem she wrought some high
Magic, she cried aloud: then came the long
Drone of some strange and necromantic song,
As though she toiled to cleanse that blood; and there
Sat we, that long time, waiting. Till a fear
O'ertook us, that the men might slip their chain
And strike the priestess down and plunge amain
For safety: yet the dread our eyes to fill
With sights unbidden held us, and we still
Sat silent. But at last all spoke as one,
Forbid or not forbid, to hasten on
And find them. On we went, and suddenly,
With oarage poised, like wings upon the sea,
An Argive ship we saw, her fifty men
All benched, and on the shore, with every chain
Cast off, our strangers, standing by the stern!
The prow was held by stay-poles: turn by turn
The anchor-cable rose; some men had strung
Long ropes into a ladder, which they swung
Over the side for those two Greeks to climb.
The plot was open, and we lost no time
But flew to seize the cables and the maid,
And through the stern dragged out the steering-blade,
To spoil her course, and shouted: "Ho, what way
Is this, to sail the seas and steal away
An holy image and its minister?
What man art them, and what man's son, to bear
Our priestess from the land?" And clear thereon
He spoke: "Orestes, Agamemnon's son,
And brother to this maid, whom here in peace
I bear, my long lost sister, back to Greece."
We none the less clung fast to her, and strove
To drag her to thy judgment-seat. Thereof
Came trouble and bruised jaws. For neither they
Nor we had weapons with us. But the way
Hard-beaten fist and heel from those two men
Rained upon ribs and flank--again, again...
To touch was to fall gasping! Aye, they laid
Their mark on all of us, till back we fled
With bleeding crowns, and some with blinded eyes,
Up a rough bank of rock. There on the rise
We found good stones and stood, and fought again.
But archers then came out, and sent a rain
Of arrows from the poop, and drove us back.
And just then--for a wave came, long and black,
And swept them shoreward--lest the priestess' gown
Should feel the sea, Orestes stooping down
Caught her on his left shoulder: then one stride
Out through the sea, the ladder at the side
Was caught, and there amid the benches stood
The maid of Argos and the carven wood
Of heaven, the image of God's daughter high.
And up from the mid galley rose a cry:
"For Greece! For Greece, O children of the shores
Of storm! Give way, and let her feel your oars;
Churn the long waves to foam. The prize is won.
The prize we followed, on and ever on,
Friendless beyond the blue Symplegades."
A roar of glad throats echoed down the breeze
And fifty oars struck, and away she flew.
And while the shelter lasted, she ran true
Full for the harbour-mouth; but ere she well
Reached it, the weather caught her, and the swell
Was strong. Then sudden in her teeth a squall
Drove the sail bellying back. The men withal
Worked with set teeth, kicking against the stream.
But back, still back, striving as in a dream,
She drifted. Then the damsel rose and prayed:
"O Child of Leto, save thy chosen maid
From this dark land to Hellas, and forgive
My theft this day, and let these brave men live.
Dost thou not love thy brother, Holy One?
What marvel if I also love mine own?"
The sailors cried a paean to her prayers,
And set those brown and naked arms of theirs,
Half-mad with strain, quick swinging chime on chime
To the helmsman's shout. But vainly; all the time
Nearer and nearer rockward they were pressed.
One of our men was wading to his breast,
Some others roping a great grappling-hook,
While I sped hot-foot to the town, to look
For thee, my Prince, and tell thee what doth pass.
Come with me, Lord. Bring manacles of brass
And bitter bonds. For now, unless the wave
Fall sudden calm, no mortal power can save
Orestes. There is One that rules the sea
Who grieved for Troy and hates her enemy:
Poseidon's self will give into thine hand
And ours this dog, this troubler of the land--
The priestess, too, who, recking not what blood
Ran red in Aulis, hath betrayed her god!
LEADER.
Woe, woe! To fall in these men's hands again,
Mistress, and die, and see thy brother slain!
THOAS.
Ho, all ye dwellers of my savage town
Set saddle on your steeds, and gallop down
To watch the heads, and gather what is cast
Alive from this Greek wreck. We shall make fast,
By God's help, the blasphemers.--Send a corps
Out in good boats a furlong from the shore;
So we shall either snare them on the seas
Or ride them down by land, and at our ease
Fling them down gulfs of rock, or pale them high
On stakes in the sun, to feed our birds and die.
Women: you knew this plot. Each one of you
Shall know, before the work I have to do
Is done, what torment is.--Enough. A clear
Task is afoot. I must not linger here.
[While THOAS is moving off, his men shouting
and running before and behind him, there
comes a sudden blasting light and thunder-
roll, and ATHENA is seen in the air confronting them.]
ATHENA.
Ho, whither now, so hot upon the prey,
King Thoas? It is I that bid thee stay,
Athena, child of Zeus. Turn back this flood
Of wrathful men, and get thee temperate blood.
Apollo's word and Fate's ordained path
Have led Orestes here, to escape the wrath
Of Them that Hate. To Argos he must bring
His sister's life, and guide that Holy Thing
Which fell from heaven, in mine own land to dwell.
So shall his pain have rest, and all be well.
Thou hast heard my speech, O King. No death from thee
May share Orestes between rocks and sea:
Poseidon for my love doth make the sore
Waves gentle, and set free his labouring oar.
And thou, O far away--for, far or near
A goddess speaketh and thy heart must hear--
Go on thy ways, Orestes, bearing home
The Image and thy sister. When ye come
To god-built Athens, lo, a land there is
Half hid on Attica's last boundaries,
A little land, hard by Karystus' Rock,
But sacred. It is called by Attic folk
Halae. Build there a temple, and bestow
Therein thine Image, that the world may know
The tale of Tauris and of thee, cast out
From pole to pole of Greece, a blood-hound rout
Of ill thoughts driving thee. So through the whole
Of time to Artemis the Tauropole
Shall men make hymns at Halae. And withal
Give them this law. At each high festival,
A sword, in record of thy death undone,
Shall touch a man's throat, and the red blood run--
One drop, for old religion's sake. In this
Shall live that old red rite of Artemis.
And them, Iphigenia, by the stair
Of Brauron in the rocks, the Key shalt bear
Of Artemis. There shalt thou live and die,
And there have burial. And a gift shall lie
Above thy shrine, fair raiment undefiled
Left upon earth by mothers dead with child.
Ye last, O exiled women, true of heart
And faithful found, ye shall in peace depart,
Each to her home: behold Athena's will.
Orestes, long ago on Ares' Hill
I saved thee, when the votes of Death and Life
Lay equal: and henceforth, when men at strife
So stand, mid equal votes of Life and Death,
My law shall hold that Mercy conquereth.
Begone. Lead forth thy sister from this shore
In peace; and thou, Thoas, be wroth no more.
THOAS.
Most high Athena, he who bows not low
His head to God's word spoken, I scarce know
How such an one doth live. Orestes hath
Fled with mine Image hence ... I bear no wrath.
Nor yet against his sister. There is naught,
Methinks, of honour in a battle fought
'Gainst gods. The strength is theirs. Let those two fare
Forth to thy land and plant mine Image there.
I wish them well.
These bondwomen no less
I will send free to Greece and happiness,
And stay my galleys' oars, and bid this brand
Be sheathed again, Goddess, at thy command.
ATHENA.
'Tis well, O King. For that which needs must be
Holdeth the high gods as it holdeth thee.
Winds of the north, O winds that laugh and run,
Bear now to Athens Agamemnon's son:
Myself am with you, o'er long leagues of foam
Guiding my sister's hallowed Image home.
[she floats away.]
CHORUS.
SOME WOMEN.
Go forth in bliss, O ye whose lot
God shieldeth, that ye perish not!
OTHERS.
O great in our dull world of clay,
And great in heaven's undying gleam,
Pallas, thy bidding we obey:
And bless thee, for mine ears have heard
The joy and wonder of a word
Beyond my dream, beyond my dream.
NOTES TO IPHIGENIA IN TAURIS
P. 3, 1. 1.--Oenomaus, King of Elis, offered his daughter and his
kingdom to any man who should beat him in a chariot race; those
who failed he slew. Pelops challenged him and won the race through
a trick of his servant, Myrtilus, who treacherously took the
linchpins out of Oenomaus's chariot. Oenomaus was thrown out and
killed; Pelops took the kingdom, but in remorse or indignation
threw Myrtilus into the sea (1. 192, p. 11). In some stories
Oenomaus killed the suitors by spearing them from behind when they
passed him. Pelops was the son of Tantalus, renowned for his pride
and its punishment.
P. 3, 1. 8, For Helen's sake.--i.e. in order to win Helen back
from the Trojans.
P. 4, 1. 23, Whatever birth most fair.--Artemis Kalliste ("Most
Fair") was apparently so called because, after a competition for
beauty, that which won the prize ([Greek Text]) was selected and
given to her. This rite is made by the story to lead to a
sacrifice of the fairest maiden, and may very possibly have
sometimes done so.
P. 4, 1. 42.--She tells her dream to the sky to get it off her
mind, much as the Nurse does in the Medea (p. 5,1.57).
P. 5, 1. 50, One ... pillar.--It is worth remembering that a
pillar was among the earliest objects of worship in Crete and
elsewhere. Cf. "the pillared sanctities" (1. 128, p. 9) and the
"blood on the pillars" (1. 405, p. 20).
P. 8, 1. 113, A hollow one might creep through.--The metopes, or
gaps between the beams. The Temple was therefore of a primitive
Dorian type.
P. 8, 11. 124-125.--The land of Tauris is conceived as being
beyond the Symplegades, or, as here, as being the country of the
Symplegades.
As these semi-mythical names settled down in history, Tauris
became the Crimea, the Symplegades, or "Clashing Rocks," or "Dark-
Blue Rocks," became two rocks at the upper end of the Bosphorus,
and the Friendless or Strangerless Sea became the Euxine. The word
Axeinos, "Friendless," has often been altered in the MSS. of this
play to Euxeinos, "Hospitable," which was the ordinary prose name
of the Black Sea in historical times.
P. 9, l. 133, The horses and the towers.--The steppes of the
Taurians would have no gardens or city walls, but it is curious
that Hellas should seem specially a land of horses by comparison.
Cf. p. 86, l. 1423, where Thoas has horses.
P. 10, l. 168, The golden goblet, &c.--She evidently takes jars of
libation from the Attendants and pours them during the next few
lines into some Eschara, or Altar for the Dead. Most of the rite
would probably be performed kneeling.
P. 11, ll. 192 ff., The dark and wheeling coursers.--i.e. those
of Pelops. The cry of one betrayed: Myrtilus, when he was thrown
into the sea. (See on l. 1.) For the Golden Lamb and the Sun
turning in Heaven, see my translation of Electra, p. 47, l. 699
and note.
P. 12, l. 217, The Nereid's Son.--Achilles, son of Peleus and the
Nereid Thetis.
P. 13, l. 238, The Herdsman's entrance.--Observe how Iphigenia is
first merely disturbed in her obsequies: then comes the sickening
news that there are strangers to sacrifice: then lastly, her worst
fear is realised; the men are Greeks. This explains her
exasperated tone in l. 254, "The sea! What is the sea ..." and "Go
back!"--The Herdsman is merely jubilant and obtuse.
P. 15, l. 263.--The murex or purple-fish could only be collected
in very late autumn or early spring; consequently the fishers made
encampments for the winter and returned to Tyre and Sidon, or
wherever else they came from, after the spring fishing. See
Berard, Pheniciens et Odyssee, i. 415.
P. 15, 1. 270, Son of the White Sea Spirit, &c.--The man is, of
course, made to use the names of Greek not of Taurian gods. He
thinks first of Palaemon, a sea-god, son of Leucothea ("White-
Goddess"), then of the Dioskori, Castor and Polydeuces; then
vaguely of some spirits beloved of Nereus, the Ancient of the Sea.
P. 17, 1. 328 f., Of all those shots not one struck home.--The
object of this statement must be to explain why the two heroes do
not make their appearance bruised and dishevelled as the Second
Messenger does after his fight with the Greeks. Of course there is
no great harm in making the Taurians bad shots as well as cowards,
and possibly there is some value in the suggestion of a
supernatural protection which is only saving its object for a
crueller death. But very likely the two lines are interpolations.
Pp. 17, 18, 11. 342 ff.--A wonderful speech, illustrating the
gradual breaking-up of the ice in Iphigenia's nature.--The
Herdsman's story has, of course, been horrible to her; all the
more so because he expects her to enjoy it and recalls wild words
she has uttered in the past, when brooding on her wrongs. She
controls her feelings absolutely till the man is gone. Then she
feels like one turned to stone, pitiless; then, if only it were
Helen or Menelaus that she had to kill! Then vivid thoughts of the
misery and horror of Aulis and the poor foolish hopes and tremors
in which she had come there; then the thought that Orestes, the
one man whom she could love without resentment, is dead. Then a
rage of indignation against the bloody rites and the infamy of the
thing she has to do. She goes into the Temple broken in nerve and
almost ready for rebellion.
P. 19, 11. 385 ff.--Leto, beloved of Zeus, was the mother of
Artemis and Apollo, who were born in the holy island of Delos.--
One legend, already rejected by Pindar, said that the crime of
Tantalus was that he had given his child Pelops to the gods to
eat.
P. 19, 1. 392, Dark of the sea.--The Dark-Blue of the Symplegades
is meant. Sometimes it is only the Argo that has ever passed
through them; here it is only Io, daughter of Inachus, loved by
Zeus and hunted by the gadfly, who fled outcast through the East.
Her story is told in Aeschylus' Prometheus and in a magnificent
chorus of his Suppliant Women. (See Rise of the Greek Epic, pp.
247 ff.)
The present lyric begins by wondering how and why the strangers
have come: then come thoughts of the voyage and places they must
have passed; the coast, where Phineus was haunted by the Harpies,
the enchanted sea beyond the Symplegades, and the mysterious Isle
of Leuce ("White") where Achilles lives after death.--Then comes a
thought of Iphigenia's longing for revenge on Helen: but revenge
is no use. It is home they crave, or, if that is impossible, then
sleep and dreams of home.
P. 21, 1. 431, The steering oar abaft;--The steering was done by
an oar, or sometimes two oars, projecting into the sea from a hole
in the stern. Cf. 1. 1356, p. 83, "And through the stern dragged
out the steering-blade." If this oar was left free, it would
ripple and beat against the side.
P. 23, 1. 472, What mother then was yours, &c.--Not very like a
woman "turned to stone" or "without a tear." She had miscalculated
her own feelings.--Observe how Orestes sternly rejects her
sentimental sympathy. He needs all his strength.
P. 25, 1. 512, A kind of banishment.--He was driven by his Furies,
not legally banished.
Pp. 26, 27, 11. 515 and 529, "Oh how sweet to see thee here!" and
"Oh, give me this hour full. Thou wilt soon die."--Iphigenia is
more than tactless. She is so starving for home or anything that
brings her into touch with home, that neither this Stranger's
death nor anything else matters to her in comparison. A fine
dramatic stroke.
The people of whom she asks are, first, her enemies--Helen;
Calchas, the prophet, who had commanded her sacrifice; Odysseus,
who had devised the plot by which she was brought to Aulis (11.
16, 24); then Achilles, who had been the hero of her dreams; then,
with fear and hesitancy, those for whom she cares most.--Observe,
at 1. 553, how, on hearing of her father's murder, her first
thought is pity for her mother. Her father is already in her mind
"he that slew." But in every line of this dialogue there is fine
drama and psychology.
P. 28, 1. 538, "Small help his bridal brought him; he is dead."--
It has been thought curious that the mention of Achilles should
immediately suggest to Orestes the bridal at Aulis, though of
course it does so to Iphigenia. But after all it was Orestes'
sister that Achilles was to marry at Aulis; and secondly, a large
part of Orestes' troubles came from the carrying off of his
betrothed, Hermione, by Achilles' bastard son, Pyrrhus. If the
marriage at Aulis had taken place and Achilles left a true-born
son, that would all have been different.
P. 31, 1. 569, Light dreams farewell! Ye too were lies.--This does
seem a wrong conclusion. The dreams only suggested that Orestes
had died the day before, long after this man had left Argos. But
perhaps it is not unnatural.
P. 32, 11. 576 f., We too have kinsmen dear.--A most
characteristic Euripidean saying. It also leads up to the personal
interest in the Chorus which we feel after 1. 1075, p. 63, when
they are taken into the conspiracy and then abandoned.
P. 32, 1. 578, Listen; for I am fallen upon a thought.--It must
not be supposed that this use of the tablet is an obvious or easy
thing. It is a daring project that crosses her mind, as one
possible way of avoiding the death of this Stranger. Her
hesitation at 1. 742--where a pause is indicated in the Greek--
shows that she is only trusting to her special influence over the
King to get him to relax the law. Presumably merchants sometimes
were admitted to the Tauri; for instance, those who brought the
Chorus. The safe way to use the tablet would have been to make
sure of the friendship of one of these. But such questions lie
outside the play.
P. 34, 1. 618, This altar's spell is over me.--I translate the MS.
reading [Greek text]. In my text I accepted the usual emendation
[Greek text]. But [Greek text] means "spell" or "infection." See
Rise of the Greek Epic, p. 86.
P. 34, 1. 627, My sister's hand.--i.e. Electra's.
Pp. 35-39, 11. 645-724.--Observe that all through this scene it is
Pylades who is broken and Orestes strong. Contrast their first
entrance, pp. 6-8.
P. 45, 1. 804, Argos is bright with him.--Literally, "is full of
him." I am not sure that I understand the expression, but I think
she feels Orestes as a magnificent presence filling all his home.
P. 46, 11. 809 ff.--The "signs" are clear enough. He remembers
that there was an embroidery of the Golden Lamb story worked by
Iphigenia; that when she started for Aulis she had cut off her
hair for her mother and her mother had given her some Inachus
water to use in the sacred washing before her marriage; also,
there was an old spear belonging to Pelops in Iphigenia's room.--
Apparently Pelops carried a spear in the chariot race, just as
Oenomaus did.
Pp. 47-50, 11. 827-900.--In this scene Iphigenia simply abandons
herself to one emotion after another, while Orestes, amid all his
joy, keeps his head and thinks about the danger that still
surrounds them. When he reminds her that they are "not yet
fortunate," she thinks only of Aulis and her old wrong. At last
Orestes gets in the word, "Suppose you had murdered me to-day,"
and she is recalled by a rush of horror at her own conduct: she
has nearly killed him, and he is still in imminent danger. She
tries passionately and despairingly to think of ways of escape,
but it needs the intervention of Pylades (which she rather
resents) to bring her into a mood for sober thinking.
P. 51, 1. 915, A wife and happy.--The last we heard of Electra was
that she lived "unmated and alone" (1. 562, p. 31). But that was
said when Pylades was regarded as practically a dead man. Electra
was apparently betrothed to Pylades, but was not actually his
wife.--There is no mention of the Peasant husband of the Electra.
P. 52, 1. 818.--Anaxibia (?), sister of Agamemnon, was wife to
Strophios. See genealogical table.
P. 53, 11. 930 ff., That frenzy on the shore!--It is only now that
Iphigenia fully realises her brother's madness. His narrative
immediately following makes her feel it the more, and it is
evidently in her mind while she speaks 11. 989 ff.
P. 54 f., 11. 940 ff., Orestes' Trial at Athens.--According to one
legend Orestes was finally purified of his guilt by a trial at the
Areopagus, in which Apollo championed him, and Athena, as
President, gave a casting vote for mercy. (This is the story of
Aeschylus' Eumenides.) By another, he was healed when he had
brought this Image of Artemis to Attica. Euripides combines the
two.--It must often have happened in a blood-feud that some of the
kindred of the slain man would accept the result of a trial and
obey the law, while some cared for no law but clung to their
vengeance. Euripides makes the Furies do the same. Some accept the
judgment and stay as "Eumenides" in Athens; others know no law nor
mercy.
P. 55, 11. 949-960, Mine evil days are made a rite among them.--At
the Feast of the Anthesteria, each family summoned its ghosts from
the grave and after the feast sent them back again. While they
were about, it was very important that each man should keep his
ghosts to himself: there must be no infection of strange or
baleful ghosts. Hence a rite in which each man ate and drank his
own portion, holding no communication with his neighbour. The
story then went that this was done in commemoration of Orestes'
visit to Athens with the stain of blood upon him. (See Miss
Harrison's Prolegomena, chap, ii.) There was a similar feast in
Aegina.
P. 56, 11. 990-1006.--Iphigenia's speech. We must realise that
Iphigenia has been suddenly confronted by a new and complicated
difficulty. She was prepared to make some plot to save her
brother's life. She now realises that he is on the verge of
madness; that he is determined to commit an act of what will be
considered desperate sacrilege by stealing the image of Artemis;
and that he expects her to help him to get the image to his ship.
--She might hope to send him away safe and be forgiven by the King:
if she helps him to steal the image, she cannot possibly be
forgiven. Again, she might very possibly fly with him secretly, if
she went alone; but to steal the statue and fly seems impossible.
Confronted with this problem, she deliberately abandons both her
thoughts of vengeance and her hope of escape, and agrees to give
her life for Orestes.
P. 59, 1. 1029, I think I dimly see.--Compare Electra,
translation, p. 42, where Electra suddenly solves the difficulty
of slaying Clytemnestra.
P. 63, 11. 1075 ff., Be of good heart, sweet Mistress.--The women
of the Chorus are indeed "true of heart and faithful found," as
Athena says later. And one feels that Iphigenia, after her first
gush of gratitude, does not think of them much. She will save her
brother, and they will be left with very little hope of ever
seeing Greece, if indeed they are not fatally compromised by their
share in the plot.--One can hardly blame Iphigenia; but it is like
her.