Then the prophet answered, "Hearken, O King, and I will tell thee. I sat

in my seat, after my custom, in the place whither all manner of birds

resort. And as I sat I heard a cry of birds that I knew not, very

strange and full of wrath. And I knew that they tare and slew each

other, for I heard the fierce flapping of their wings. And being afraid,

I made inquiry about the fire, how it burned upon the altars. And this

boy, for as I am a guide to others so he guideth me, told me that it

shone not at all, but smouldered and was dull, and that the flesh which

was burnt upon the altar spluttered in the flame, and wasted away into

corruption and filthiness. And now I tell thee, O King, that the city is

troubled by thy ill counsels. For the dogs and the birds of the air tear

the flesh of this dead son of Oedipus, whom thou sufferest not to have

due burial, and carry it to the altars, polluting them therewith.

Wherefore the Gods receive not from us prayer or sacrifice; and the cry

of the birds hath an evil sound, for they are full of the flesh of a

man. Therefore I bid the be wise in time. For all men may err; but he

that keepeth not his folly, but repenteth, doeth well; but stubbornness

cometh to great trouble."

Then the King answered, "Old man, I know the race of prophets full well,

how ye sell your art for gold. But, make thy trade as thou wilt, this

man shall not have burial; yea, though the eagles of Zeus carry his

flesh to their master's throne in heaven, he shall not have it."

And when the prophet spake again, entreating him, and warning, the King

answered him after the same fashion, that he spake not honestly, but had

sold his art for money. But at the last the prophet spake in great

wrath, saying, "Know, O King, that before many days shall pass, thou

shalt pay a life for a life, even one of thine own children, for them

with whom thou hast dealt unrighteously, shutting up the living with the

dead, and keeping the dead from them to whom they belong. Therefore the

Furies lie in wait for thee, and thou shalt see whether or no I speak

these things for money. For there shall be mourning and lamentation in

thine own house; and against thy people shall be stirred up all the

cities, whose sons thou hast made to lie unburied. And now, my child,

lead me home, and let this man rage against them that are younger than

I."

So the prophet departed, and the old men were sore afraid, and said, "He

hath spoken terrible things, O King; nor ever since these gray hairs

were black have we known him say that which was false."

"Even so," said the King, "and I am troubled in heart, and yet am loath

to depart from my purpose."

"King Creon," said the old men, "thou needest good counsel."

"What, then, would ye have done?"

"Set free the maiden from the sepulchre, and give this dead man burial."

Then the King cried to his people that they should bring bars wherewith

to loosen the doors of the sepulchre, and hasted with them to the place.

But coming on their way to the body of Prince Polynices, they took it

up, and washed it, and buried that which remained of it, and raised over

the ashes a great mound of earth. And this being done, they drew near to

the place of the sepulchre; and as they approached, the King heard

within a very piteous voice, and knew it for the voice of his son. Then

he bade his attendants loose the door with all speed; and when they had

loosed it, they beheld within a very piteous sight. For the maiden

Antigone had hanged herself by the girdle of linen which she wore, and

the young man Prince Hæmon stood with his arms about her dead corpse,

embracing it. And when the King saw him, he cried to him to come forth;

but the Prince glared fiercely upon him and answered him not a word, but

drew his two-edged sword. Then the King, thinking that his son was

minded in his madness to slay him, leapt back, but the Prince drave the

sword into his own heart, and fell forward on the earth, still holding

the dead maiden in his arms. And when they brought the tidings of these

things to Queen Eurydice, that was the wife of King Creon and mother to

the Prince, she could not endure the grief, being thus bereaved of her

children, but laid hold of a sword, and slew herself therewith.

So the house of King Creon was left desolate unto him that day, because

he despised the ordinances of the Gods.

THE STORY OF IPHIGENIA IN AULIS.

King Agamemnon sat in his tent at Aulis, where the army of the Greeks

was gathered together, being about to sail against the great city of

Troy. And it was now past midnight; but the King slept not, for he was

careful and troubled about many things. And he had a lamp before him,

and in his hand a tablet of pine wood, whereon he wrote. But he seemed

not to remain in the same mind about that which he wrote; for now he

would blot out the letters, and then would write them again; and now he

fastened the seal upon the tablet and then brake it. And as he did this

he wept, and was like to a man distracted. But after a while he called

to an old man, his attendant (the man had been given in time past by

Tyndareus to his daughter, Queen Clytæmnestra), and said "Old man, thou

knowest how Calchas the soothsayer bade me offer for a sacrifice to

Artemis, who is goddess of this place, my daughter Iphigenia, saying

that so only should the army have a prosperous voyage from this place to

Troy, and should take the city and destroy it; and how when I heard

these words I bade Talthybius the herald go throughout the army and bid

them depart, every man to his own country, for that I would not do this

thing; and how my brother, King Menelaüs, persuaded me so that I

consented to it. Now, therefore, hearken to this, for what I am about to

tell thee three men only know, namely, Calchas the soothsayer, and

Menelaüs, and Ulysses, King of Ithaca. I wrote a letter to my wife the

Queen, that she should send her daughter to this place, that she might

be married to King Achilles; and I magnified the man to her, saying that

he would in no wise sail with us unless I would give him my daughter in

marriage. But now I have changed my purpose, and have written another

letter after this fashion, as I will now set forth to thee,--'DAUGHTER

OF LEDA, SEND NOT THY CHILD TO THE LAND OF EUBOEA, FOR I WILL GIVE

HER IN MARRIAGE AT ANOTHER TIME.'"

"Aye," said the old man, "but how wilt thou deal with King Achilles?

Will he not be wroth, hearing that he hath been cheated of his wife?"

"Not so," answered the King, "for we have indeed used his name, but he

knoweth nothing of this marriage. And now make haste. Sit not thou down

by any fountain in the woods, and suffer not thine eyes to sleep. And

beware lest the chariot bearing the Queen and her daughter pass thee

where the roads divide. And see that thou keep the seal upon this letter

unbroken."

So the old man departed with the letter. But scarcely had he left the

tent when King Menelaüs spied him and laid hands on him, taking the

letter and breaking the seal. And the old man cried out--

"Help, my lord; here is one hath taken thy letter!"

Then King Agamemnon came forth from his tent, saying, "What meaneth this

uproar and disputing that I hear?"

And Menelaüs answered, "Seest thou this letter that I hold in my hand?"

"I see it: it is mine. Give it to me."

"I give it not till I have read that which is written therein to all the

army of the Greeks."

"Where didst thou find it?"

"I found it while I waited for thy daughter till she should come to the

camp."

"What hast thou to do with that? May I not rule my own household?"

Then Menelaüs reproached his brother because he did not continue in one

mind. "For first," he said, "before thou wast chosen captain of the

host, thou wast all things to all men, greeting every man courteously,

and taking him by the hand, and talking with him, and leaving thy doors

open to any that would enter; but afterwards, being now chosen, thou

wast haughty and hard of access. And next, when this trouble came upon

the army, and thou wast sore afraid lest thou shouldst lose thy office,

and so miss renown, didst thou not hearken to Calchas the soothsayer,

and promise thy daughter for sacrifice, and send for her to the camp,

making pretence of giving her in marriage to Achilles? And now thou art

gone back from thy word. Surely this is an evil day for Greece, that is

troubled because thou wantest wisdom."

Then answered King Agamemnon, "What is thy quarrel with me? Why blamest

thou me if thou couldst not rule thy wife? And now to win back this

woman, because forsooth she is fair, thou castest aside both reason and

honour. And I, if I had an ill purpose, and now have changed it for that

which is wiser, dost thou charge me with folly? Let them that sware the

oath to Tyndareus go with thee on this errand. Why should I slay my

child, and work for myself sorrow and remorse without end that thou

mayest have vengeance for thy wicked wife?"

Then Menelaüs turned away in a rage, crying, "Betray me if thou wilt. I

will betake myself to other counsels and other friends."

But even as he spake there came a messenger, saying, "King Agamemnon, I

am come, as thou badest me, with thy daughter Iphigenia. Also her

mother, Queen Clytæmnestra, is come, bringing with her her little son,

Orestes. And now they are resting themselves and their horses by the

side of a spring, for indeed the way is long and weary. And all the army

is gathered about them, to see them and greet them. And men question

much wherefore they are come, saying, 'Doth the King make a marriage for

his daughter; or hath he sent for her, desiring to see her?' But I know

thy purpose, my lord; wherefore we will dance and shout and make merry,

for this is a happy day for the maiden."

But the King Agamemnon was sore dismayed when he knew that the Queen was

come, and spake to himself. "Now what shall I say to my wife? For that

she is rightly come to the marriage of her daughter who can deny? But

what will she say when she knoweth my purpose? And of the maiden, what

shall I say? Unhappy maiden whose bridegroom shall be death! For she

will cry to me, 'Wilt thou kill me, my father?' And the little Orestes

will wail, not knowing what he doeth, seeing he is but a babe. Cursed be

Paris, who hath wrought this woe!"

And now King Menelaüs came back, saying that it repented him of what he

had said, "For why should thy child die for me? What hath she to do

with Helen? Let the army be scattered, so that this wrong be not done."

Then said King Agamemnon, "But how shall I escape from this strait? For

the whole host will compel me to this deed?"

"Not so," said King Menelaüs, "if thou wilt send back the maiden to

Argos."

"But what shall that profit," said the King; "for Calchas will cause the

matter to be known, or Ulysses, saying that I have failed of my promise;

and if I fly to Argos, they will come and destroy my city and lay waste

my land. Woe is me! in what a strait am I set! But take thou care, my

brother, that Clytæmnestra hear nothing of these things."

And when he had ended speaking, the Queen herself came unto the tent,

riding in a chariot, having her daughter by her side. And she bade one

of the attendants take out with care the caskets which she had brought

for her daughter, and bade others help her daughter to alight, and

herself also, and to a fourth she said that he should take the young

Orestes. Then Iphigenia greeted her father, saying, "Thou hast done well

to send for me, my father."

"'Tis true and yet not true, my child."

"Thou lookest not well pleased to see me, my father."

"He that is a King and commandeth a host hath many cares."

"Put away thy cares awhile, and give thyself to me."

"I am glad beyond measure to see thee."

"Glad art thou? Then why dost thou weep?"

"I weep because thou must be long time absent from me."

"Perish all these fightings and troubles!"

"They will cause many to perish, and me most miserably of all."

"Art thou going a journey from me, my father?"

"Aye, and thou also hast a journey to make."

"Must I make it alone, or with my mother?"

"Alone; neither father nor mother may be with thee."

"Sendest thou me to dwell elsewhere?"

"Hold thy peace: such things are not for maidens to inquire."

"Well, my father, order matters with the Phrygians, and then make haste

to return."

"I must first make a sacrifice to the Gods."

"'Tis well. The Gods should have due honour."

"Aye, and thou wilt stand close to the altar."

"Shall I lead the dances, my father?"

"O my child, how I envy thee, that thou knowest nought! And now go into

the tent; but first kiss me, and give me thy hand, for thou shalt be

parted from thy father for many days."

And when she was gone within, he cried, "O fair bosom and very lovely

cheeks and yellow hair of my child! O city of Priam, what woe thou

bringest on me! But I must say no more."

Then he turned to the Queen, and excused himself that he wept when he

should rather have rejoiced for the marriage of his daughter. And when

the Queen would know of the estate of the bridegroom, he told her that

his name was Achilles, and that he was the son of Peleus by his wife

Thetis, the daughter of Nereus of the sea, and that he dwelt in Phthia.

And when she inquired of the time of the marriage he said that it

should be in the same moon, on the first lucky day; and as to the place,

that it must be where the bridegroom was sojourning, that is to say, in

the camp. "And I," said the King, "will give the maiden to her husband."

"But where," answered the Queen, "is it your pleasure that I should be?"

"Thou must return to Argos, and care for the maidens there."

"Sayest thou that I must return? Who then will hold up the torch for the

bride?"

"I will do that which is needful. For it is not seemly that thou

shouldst be present where the whole army is gathered together."

"Aye, but it is seemly that a mother should give her daughter in

marriage."

"But the maidens at home should not be left alone."

"They are well kept in their chambers."

"Be persuaded, lady."

"Not so: thou shalt order that which is without the house, but I that

which is within."

But now came Achilles, to tell the King that the army was growing

impatient, saying that, unless they might sail speedily to Troy, they

would return each man to his home. And when the Queen heard his

name--for he had said to the attendant, "Tell thy master that Achilles,

the son of Peleus, would speak with him"--she came forth from the tent

and greeted him, and bade him give her his right hand. And when the

young man was ashamed (for it was not counted a seemly thing that men

should speak with women) she said--

"But why art thou ashamed, seeing that thou art about to marry my

daughter?"

And he answered, "What sayest thou, lady? I cannot speak for wonder at

thy words."

"Often men are ashamed when they see new friends, and the talk is of

marriage."

"But, lady, I never was suitor for thy daughter. Nor have the sons of

Atreus said aught to me of the matter."

But the Queen was beyond measure astonished, and cried, "Now this is

shameful indeed, that I should seek a bridegroom for my daughter in such

fashion."

But when Achilles would have departed, to inquire of the King what this

thing might mean, the old man that had at the first carried the letter

came forth, and bade him stay. And when he had assurance that he should

receive no harm for what he should tell them, he unfolded the whole

matter. And when the Queen had heard it, she cried to Achilles, "O son

of Thetis of the sea! help me now in this strait, and help this maiden

that hath been called thy bride, though this indeed be false. 'Twill be

a shame to thee if such wrong be done under thy name; for it is thy name

that hath undone us. Nor have I any altar to which I may flee, nor any

friend but thee only in this army."

Then Achilles made answer, "Lady, I learnt from Chiron, who was the most

righteous of men, to be true and honest. And if the sons of Atreus

govern according to right, I obey them; and if not, not. Know, then,

that thy daughter, seeing that she hath been given, though but in word

only, to me, shall not be slain by her father. For if she so die, then

shall my name be brought to great dishonour, seeing that through it thou

hast been persuaded to come with her to this place. This sword shall see

right soon whether any one will dare to take this maiden from me."

And now King Agamemnon came forth, saying that all things were ready for

the marriage, and that they waited for the maiden, not knowing that the

whole matter had been revealed to the Queen. Then she said--

"Tell me now, dost thou purpose to slay thy daughter and mine?" And when

he was silent, not knowing, indeed, what to say, she reproached him with

many words, that she had been a loving and faithful wife to him, for

which he made her an ill recompense slaying her child.

And when she had made an end of speaking, the maiden came forth from the

tent, holding the young child Orestes in her arms, and cast herself upon

her knees before her father, and besought him, saying, "I would, my

father, that I had the voice of Orpheus, who made even the rocks to

follow him, that I might persuade thee; but now all that I have I give,

even these tears. O my father, I am thy child; slay me not before my

time. This light is sweet to look upon. Drive me not from it to the

land of darkness. I was the first to call thee father; and the first to

whom thou didst say 'my child.' And thou wouldst say to me, 'Some day,

my child, I shall see thee a happy wife in the home of a rich husband.'

And I would answer, 'And I will receive thee with all love when thou art

old, and pay thee back for all the benefits thou hast done unto me.'

This I indeed remember, but thou forgettest; for thou art ready to slay

me. Do it not, I beseech thee, by Pelops thy grandsire, and Atreus thy

father, and this my mother, who travailed in childbirth of me, and now

travaileth again in her sorrow. And thou, O my brother, though thou art

but a babe, help me. Weep with me; beseech thy father that he slay not

thy sister. O my father, though he be silent, yet, indeed, he beseecheth

thee. For his sake, therefore, yea, and for mine own, have pity upon me,

and slay me not."

But the King was sore distracted, knowing not what he should say or do,

for a terrible necessity was upon him, seeing that the army could not

make their journey to Troy unless this deed should first be done. And

while he doubted came Achilles, saying that there was a horrible tumult

in the camp, the men crying out that the maiden must be sacrificed, and

that when he would have stayed them from their purpose, the people had

stoned him with stones, and that his own Myrmidons helped him not; but

rather were the first to assail him. Nevertheless, he said that he would

fight for the maiden, even to the utmost; and that there were faithful

men who would stand with him and help him. But when the maiden heard

these words, she stood forth and said, "Hearken to me, my mother. Be not

wroth with my father, for we cannot fight against fate. Also we must

take thought that this young man suffer not, for his help will avail

nought, and he himself will perish. Therefore I am resolved to die; for

all Greece looketh to me; for without me the ships cannot make their

voyage, nor the city of Troy be taken. Thou didst bear me, my mother,

not for thyself only, but for this whole people. Wherefore I will give

myself for them. Offer me for an offering; and let the Greeks take the

city of Troy, for this shall be my memorial for ever."

Then said Achilles, "Lady, I should count myself most happy if the Gods

would grant thee to be my wife. For I love thee well, when I see thee

how noble thou art. And if thou wilt, I will carry thee to my home. And

I doubt not that I shall save thee, though all the men of Greece be

against me."

But the maiden answered, "What I say, I say with full purpose. Nor will

I that any man should die for me, but rather will I save this land of

Greece."

And Achilles said, "If this be thy will, lady, I cannot say nay, for it

is a noble thing that thou doest."

Nor was the maiden turned from her purpose though her mother besought

her with many tears. So they that were appointed led her to the grove of

Artemis, where there was built an altar, and the whole army of the

Greeks gathered about it. But when the King saw her going to her death

he covered his face with his mantle; but she stood by him, and said, "I

give my body with a willing heart to die for my country and for the

whole land of Greece. I pray the Gods that ye may prosper, and win the

victory in this war, and come back safe to your homes. And now let no

man touch me, for I will offer my neck to the sword with a good heart."

And all men marvelled to see the maiden of what a good courage she was.

Then the herald Talthybius stood in the midst and commanded silence to

the people; and Calchas the soothsayer put a garland about her head, and

drew a sharp knife from his sheath. And all the army stood regarding the

maiden and the priest and the altar.

Then there befell a marvellous thing. For Calchas struck with his knife,

for the sound of the stroke all men heard, but the maiden was not there.

Whither she had gone no one knew; but in her stead there lay gasping a

great hind, and all the altar was red with the blood thereof.

And Calchas said, "See ye this, men of Greece, how the goddess hath

provided this offering in the place of the maiden, for she would not

that her altar should be defiled with innocent blood. Be of good

courage, therefore, and depart every man to his ship, for this day ye

shall sail across the sea to the land of Troy."

But how it fared with the maiden may be read in the story of "Iphigenia

among the Taurians."

THE STORY OF PHILOCTETES, OR THE BOW OF HERCULES.

Prince Philoctetes, who reigned in Methone, which is in the land of

Thessaly, sailed with the other Princes of Greece to make war against

the great city of Troy. For he also had been one of the suitors of Helen

the Fair, and had bound himself with a great oath that he would avenge

her and her husband, whomsoever she should choose, on any man that

should dare to do her wrong. Now Philoctetes had been companion to

Hercules in many of his labours, and also had been with him when he died

upon Mount Æta. For which cause Hercules gave him the bow and the arrows

which he bare, having received them at the first from Apollo. A very

mighty bow it was, shooting arrows so as none other could do, and the

arrows were sure dealers of death, for they had been dipped in the blood

of the great dragon of Lerna, and the wounds which they made no

physician might heal. But it chanced that the Prince, being on his

voyage to Troy, landed at the island of Chrysa, where there was an altar

of Athené, the goddess of the place, and, desiring to show the altar to

his companions, he approached it too nearly; whereupon the serpent that

guarded it lest it should be profaned, bit him in the foot. The wound

was very sore and could not be healed, but tormented him day and night

with grievous pains, making him groan and cry aloud. And when men were

troubled with his complainings, and also with the noisome stench of his

wound, the chiefs took counsel together, and it seemed good to the sons

of Atreus, King Agamemnon and King Menelaüs, who were the leaders of the

host, that he should be left alone on the island of Lemnos. This matter

they committed to Ulysses, who did according to their bidding. But when

the Greeks had laid siege to the city of Troy, nigh upon ten years, they

remembered Prince Philoctetes and how they had dealt with him. For now

the great Achilles was dead, having been slain by Prince Paris with an

arrow in the Scæan Gate, when he was ready to break into the city; and

the soothsayers affirmed that the Greeks should not have their wish upon

Troy, till they should bring against it the great archer to whom they

had done wrong. Then the chiefs took counsel together, and chose

Ulysses, who was crafty beyond all other men, to accomplish this matter,

and with him they sent Neoptolemus, the son of Achilles, who excelled in

strength, even as his father had done.

Now when these two were landed upon the island, Ulysses led the way to

the place where in time past he had left Philoctetes. A cave it was in

the cliff, with two mouths to it, of which the one looked to the east

and the other to the west, so that in winter time a man might see the

sun and be warm, but in summer the wind blew through it, bringing

coolness and sleep, and a little below was a spring of fair water to

drink. Then said Ulysses to Neoptolemus, "Go and spy out the place, and

see whether or no the man be there."

And the Prince went up and looked into the cave, and found that it was

empty, but that there were signs of one who dwelt there, a bed of

leaves, and a cup of wood, very rudely fashioned, and pieces of wood

for kindling fires, and also, a very piteous sight, the rags wherewith

the sick man was wont to dress his wound. And when he had told what he

saw, Ulysses said, "That the man dwelleth here is manifest; nor can he

be far away, for how can one that is wounded travel far? Doubtless he is

gone to some place whither the birds resort to slay them, or, haply, to

find some herb wherewith to assuage his pain. But do thou set one who

will wait for his coming, for it would fare ill with me should he find

me."

Stories from the Greek Tragedians · 第 4 / 10 段