_Chor._ This that thou utterest now
With all before agrees.
Some Power above dooms thee with purpose ill,
Down-swooping heavily,
To utter with thy voice
Sorrows of deepest woe, and bringing death.
And what the end shall be
Perplexes in the extreme.
_Cass._ Nay, now no more from out of maiden veils
My oracle shall glance, like bride fresh wed;[364] 1150
But seems as though 'twould rush with speedy gales
In full, clear brightness to the morning dawn;
So that a greater war than this shall surge
Like wave against the sunlight.[365] Now I'll teach
No more in parables. Bear witness ye,
As running with me, that I scent the track
Of evil deeds that long ago were wrought:
For never are they absent from this house,
That choral band which chants in full accord,
Yet no good music; good is not their theme.
And now, as having drunk men's blood,[366] and so
Grown wilder, bolder, see, the revelling band, 1160
Erinnyes of the race, still haunt the halls,
Not easy to dismiss. And so they sing,
Close cleaving to the house, its primal woe,[367]
And vent their loathing in alternate strains
On marriage-bed of brother ruthless found
To that defiler. *Miss I now, or hit,
Like archer skilled? or am I seeress false,
A babbler vain that knocks at every door?
Yea, swear beforehand, ere I die, I know
(And not by rumour only) all the sins
Of ancient days that haunt and vex this house.
_Chor._ How could an oath, how firm soe'er confirmed,
Bring aught of healing? Lo, I marvel at thee, 1170
That thou, though born far off beyond the sea,
Should'st tell an alien city's tale as clear
As though thyself had stood by all the while.
_Cass._ The seer Apollo set me to this task.
_Chor._ Was he a God, so smitten with desire?
_Cass._ There was a time when shame restrained my speech.
_Chor._ True; they who prosper still are shy and coy.
_Cass._ He wrestled hard, breathing hot love on me.
_Chor._ And were ye one in act whence children spring?
_Cass._ I promised Loxias, then I broke my vow.
_Chor._ Wast thou e'en then possessed with arts divine? 1180
_Cass._ E'en then my country's woes I prophesied.
_Chor._ How wast thou then unscathed by Loxias' wrath?
_Cass._ I for that fault with no man gained belief.
_Chor._ To us, at least, thou seem'st to speak the truth.
_Cass._ [_Again speaking wildly, as in an ecstasy._] Ah, woe is me!
Woe's me! Oh, ills on ills!
Again the dread pang of true prophet's gift
With preludes of great evil dizzies me.
See ye those children sitting on the house
In fashion like to phantom forms of dreams? 1190
Infants who perished at their own kin's hands,
Their palms filled full with meat of their own flesh,
Loom on my sight, the heart and entrails bearing,
(A sorry burden that!) on which of old
Their father fed.[368] And in revenge for this,
I say a lion, dwelling in his lair,
With not a spark of courage, stay-at-home,
Plots 'gainst my master, now he's home returned,
(Yes mine—for still I must the slave's yoke bear;)
And the ship's ruler, Ilion's conqueror,
Knows not what things the tongue of that lewd bitch
Has spoken and spun out in welcome smooth, 1200
And, like a secret Atè, will work out
With dire success: thus 'tis she plans: the man
Is murdered by the woman. By what name
Shall I that loathèd monster rightly call?
An Amphisbæna? or a Skylla dwelling[369]
Among the rocks, the sailors' enemy?
Hades' fierce raging mother, breathing out
Against her friends a curse implacable?
Ah, how she raised her cry, (oh, daring one!)
As for the rout of battle, and she feigns
To hail with joy her husband's safe return!
And if thou dost not credit this, what then?
What will be will. Soon, present, pitying me 1210
Thou'lt own I am too true a prophetess.
_Chor._ Thyestes' banquet on his children's flesh
I know and shudder at, and fear o'ercomes me,
Hearing not counterfeits of fact, but truths;
Yet in the rest I hear and miss my path.
_Cass._ I say thou'lt witness Agamemnon's death.
_Chor._ Hush, wretched woman, close those lips of thine!
_Cass._ For this my speech no healing God's at hand.
_Chor._ True, if it must be; but may God avert it! 1220
_Cass._ Thou utterest prayers, but others murder plot.
_Chor._ And by what man is this dire evil wrought?
_Cass._ Sure, thou hast seen my bodings all amiss.
_Chor._ I see not his device who works the deed.
_Cass._ And yet I speak the Hellenic tongue right well.
_Chor._ So does the Pythian, yet her words are hard.
_Cass._ [_In another access of frenzy._] Ah me, this fire!
It comes upon me now!
Ah me, Apollo, wolf-slayer! woe is me!
This biped lioness who takes to bed
A wolf in absence of the noble lion, 1230
Will slay me, wretched me. And, as one
Mixing a poisoned draught, she boasts that she
Will put my price into her cup of wrath,
Sharpening her sword to smite her spouse with death,
So paying him for bringing me. Oh, why
Do I still wear what all men flout and scorn,
My wand and seeress wreaths around my neck?[370]
Thee, ere myself I die I will destroy: [_breaks her wand_]
Perish ye thus: [_casting off her wreaths_] I soon shall follow you:
Make rich another Atè[371] in my place;
Behold Apollo's self is stripping me 1240
Of my divining garments, and that too,
When he has seen me even in this garb
Scorned without cause among my friends and kin,
*By foes, with no diversity of mood.
Reviled as vagrant, wandering prophetess,
Poor, wretched, famished, I endured to live:
And now the Seer who me a seeress made
Hath brought me to this lot of deadly doom.
Now for my father's altar there awaits me
A butcher's block, where I am smitten down
By slaughtering stroke, and with hot gush of blood.
But the Gods will not slight us when we're dead; 1250
Another yet shall come as champion for us,
A son who slays his mother, to avenge
His father; and the exiled wanderer
Far from his home, shall one day come again,
Upon these woes to set the coping-stone:
For the high Gods have sworn a mighty oath,
His father's fall, laid low, shall bring him back.
Why then do I thus groan in this new home,[372]
When, to begin with, Ilion's town I saw
Faring as it did fare, and they who held
That town are gone by judgment of the Gods? 1260
I too will fare as they, and venture death:
So I these gates of Hades now address,
And pray for blow that bringeth death at once,
That so with no fierce spasm, while the blood
Flows in calm death, I then may close mine eyes.
[_Goes towards the door of the palace_
_Chor._ O thou most wretched, yet again most wise:
Long hast thou spoken, lady, but if well
Thou know'st thy doom, why to the altar go'st thou,
Like heifer driven of God, so confidently?[373] 1270
_Cass._ For me, my friends, there is no time to 'scape.[374]
_Chor._ Yea; but he gains in time who comes the last.
_Cass._ The day is come: small gain for me in flight.
_Chor._ Know then thou sufferest with a heart full brave.
_Cass._ Such words as these the happy never hear.
_Chor._ Yet mortal man may welcome noble death.
_Cass._ [_Shrinking back from opening the door._] Woe's me for thee and
thy brave sons, my father![375]
_Chor._ What cometh now? What fear oppresseth thee?
_Cass._ [_Again going to the door and then shuddering in another burst
of frenzy._] Fie on't, fie!
_Chor._ Whence comes this “Fie?” unless from mind that loathes?
_Cass._ The house is tainted with the scent of death. 1280
_Chor._ How so? This smells of victims on the hearth.
_Cass._ Nay, it is like the blast from out a grave.
_Chor._ No Syrian ritual tell'st thou for our house.[376]
_Cass._ Well then I go, and e'en within will wail
My fate and Agamemnon's. And for me,
Enough of life. Ah, friends! Ah! not for nought
I shrink in fear, as bird shrinks from the brake.[377]
When I am dead do ye this witness bear,
When in revenge for me, a woman, Death
A woman smites, and man shall fall for man 1290
In evil wedlock wed. This friendly office,
As one about to die, I pray you do me.
_Chor._ Thy doom foretold, poor sufferer, moves my pity.
_Cass._ I fain would speak once more, yet not to wail
Mine own death-song; but to the Sun I pray,
To his last rays, that my avengers wreak
Upon my hated murderers judgment due
For me, who die a slave's death, easy prey.
Ah, life of man! when most it prospereth,
*It is but limned in outline;[378] and when brought
To low estate, then doth the sponge, full soaked, 1300
Wipe out the picture with its frequent touch:
And this I count more piteous e'en than that.[379]
[_Passes through the door into the palace_
_Chor._ 'Tis true of all men that they never set
A limit to good fortune; none doth say,
As bidding it depart,
*And warding it from palaces of pride,
“Enter thou here no more.”
To this our lord the Blest Ones gave to take
Priam's city; and he comes
Safe to his home and honoured by the Gods;
But if he now shall pay
The forfeit of blood-guiltiness of old,
And, dying, so work out for those who died,
By his own death another penalty, 1310
Who then of mortal men,
Hearing such things as this,
Can boast that he was born
With fate from evil free?
_Agam._ [_from within._] Ah, me! I am struck down with deadly stroke.
_Chor._ Hush! who cries out with deadly stroke sore smitten?
_Agam._ Ah me, again! struck down a second time!
[_Dies_
_Chor._ By the king's groans I judge the deed is done;
But let us now confer for counsels safe.[380]
_Chor. a._ I give you my advice to summon here,
Here to the palace, all the citizens. 1320
_Chor. b._ I think it best to rush at once on them,
And take them in the act with sword yet wet.
_Chor. c._ And I too give like counsel, and I vote
For deed of some kind. 'Tis no time to pause.
_Chor. d._ Who will see, may.—They but the prelude work
Of tyranny usurped o'er all the State.
_Chor. e._ Yes, we are slow, but they who trample down
The thought of hesitation slumber not.
_Chor. f._ I know not what advice to find or speak:
He who can act knows how to counsel too. 1330
_Chor. g._ I too think with thee; for I have no hope
With words to raise the dead again to life.
_Chor. h._ What! Shall we drag our life on and submit
To these usurpers that defile the house?
_Chor. i._ Nay, that we cannot bear: To die were better;
For death is gentler far than tyranny.
_Chor. k._ Shall we upon this evidence of groans
Guess, as divining that our lord is dead?
_Chor. l._ When we know clearly, then should we discuss:
To guess is one thing, and to know another. 1340
_Chor._[381] So vote I too, and on the winning side,
Taking the votes all round that we should learn
How he, the son of Atreus, fareth now.
_Enter_ CLYTÆMNESTRA _from the palace, in robes with stains of blood,
followed by soldiers and attendants. The open doors show the
corpses of_ AGAMEMNON _and_ CASSANDRA, _the former lying in a
silvered bath_
_Clytæm._ Though many words before to suit the time
Were spoken, now I shall not be ashamed
The contrary to utter: How could one
By open show of enmity to foes
Who seemed as friends, fence in the snares of death
Too high to be o'erleapt? But as for me,
Not without forethought for this long time past,
This conflict comes to me from triumph old[382]
Of his, though slowly wrought. I stand where I 1350
Did smite him down, with all my task well done.
So did I it, (the deed deny I not,)
That he could nor avert his doom nor flee:
I cast around him drag-net as for fish,
With not one outlet, evil wealth of robe:
And twice I smote him, and with two deep groans
He dropped his limbs: And when he thus fell down
I gave him yet a third, thank-offering true[383]
To Hades of the dark, who guards the dead.
So fallen, he gasps out his struggling soul,
And breathing forth a sharp, quick gush of blood,
He showers dark drops of gory rain on me, 1360
Who no less joy felt in them than the corn,
When the blade bears, in glad shower given of God.
Since this is so, ye Argive elders here,
Ye, as ye will, may hail the deed, but I
Boast of it. And were't fitting now to pour
Libation o'er the dead,[384] 'twere justly done,
Yea more than justly; such a goblet full,
Of ills hath he filled up with curses dire
At home, and now has come to drain it off.
_Chor._ We marvel at the boldness of thy tongue 1370
Who o'er thy husband's corpse speak'st vaunt like this.
_Clytæm._ Ye test me as a woman weak of mind;
But I with dauntless heart to you that know
Say this, and whether thou dost praise or blame,
Is all alike:—here Agamemnon lies,
My husband, now a corpse, of this right hand,
As artist just, the handiwork: so stands it.