by D M Smith
By thy beard, right hand, and mother too I do implore thee; for thy name it was that worked my ruin, and thou art bound to stand by that. Except thy knees I have no altar whereunto to fly, and not a friend stands at my side. Thou hast heard the cruel abandoned scheme of Agamemnon. I, a woman, am come as thou seest, to a camp of lawless sailor-folk, bold in evil’s cause, though useful when they list; wherefore if thou boldly stretch forth thine arm in my behalf, our safety is assured. But if thou withhold it, we are lost.
CHORUS A wondrous thing is motherhood, carrying with it a potent spell, wherein all share, so that for their children’s sake they will endure affliction.
ACHILLES My proud spirit is stirred to range aloft, but it has learnt to grieve in misfortune and rejoice in high prosperity with equal moderation. For these are the men who can count on ordering all their life aright by wisdom’s rules. True, there are cases where ’tis pleasant not to be too wise, but there are others where some store of wisdom helps. Brought up in godly Chiron’s halls myself, I learnt to keep a single heart; and provided the Atridae lead aright, I will obey them. But when they cease therefrom, no more will I obey. Nay, but here and in Troy I will show the freedom of my nature, and, as far as in me lies, do honour to Ares with my spear.
Thee, lady, who hast suffered so cruelly from thy nearest and dearest, will I, by every effort in a young man’s power, set right, investing thee with that amount of pity. Never shall thy daughter, after being once called my bride, die by her father’s hand. For I will not lend myself to thy husband’s subtle tricks; no! For it will be my name that kills thy child, although it wieldeth not the steel. Thy own husband is the actual cause, but I shall no longer be guiltless, if, because of me and my marriage, this maiden perishes; she that hath suffered past endurance and been the victim of affronts most strangely undeserved. So am I made the poorest wretch in Argos; I a thing of naught, and Menelaus counting for a man! No son of Peleus I, but the issue of a vengeful fiend, if my name shall serve thy husband for the murder.
Nay! By Nereus, who begat my mother Thetis, in his home amid the flowing waves, never shall King Agamemnon touch thy daughter, no! Not even to the laying of a fingertip upon her robe; else will Sipylus—that frontier town of barbarism, the cradle of those chieftains’ line—be henceforth a city indeed, while Phthia’s name will nowhere find mention. Calchas the seer shall rue beginning the sacrifice with his barley-meal and lustral water. Why, what is a seer? A man who with luck tells the truth sometimes, with frequent falsehoods, but when his luck deserts him, collapses then and there.
It is not to secure a bride that I have spoken thus—there be maids unnumbered eager to have my love—no! But King Agamemnon has put an insult on me; he should have asked my leave to use my name as a means to catch the child, for it was I chiefly who induced Clytemnestra to betroth her daughter to me. Verily I had yielded this to Hellas, if that was where our going to Ilium broke down; I would never have refused to further my fellow soldiers’ common interest. But as it is, I am as naught in the eyes of those chieftains, and little they reck of treating me well or ill. My sword shall soon know if anyone is to snatch thy daughter from me, for then will I make it reek with the bloody stains of slaughter, ere it reach Phrygia. Calm thyself then; as a god in his might I appeared to thee, without being so, but such will I show myself for all that.
CHORUS Son of Peleus, thy words are alike worthy of thee and that sea-born deity, the holy goddess.
CLYTEMNESTRA Ah! Would I could find words to utter thy praise without excess, and yet not lose the graciousness thereof by stinting it; for when the good are praised, they have a feeling, as it were, of hatred for those who in their praise exceed the mean. But I am ashamed of intruding a tale of woe, since my affliction touches myself alone and thou art not affected by troubles of mine. But still it looks well for the man of worth to assist the unfortunate, even when he is not connected with them. Wherefore pity us, for our sufferings cry for pity. In the first place, I have harboured an idle hope in thinking to have thee wed my daughter; and next, perhaps, the slaying of my child will be to thee an evil omen in thy wooing hereafter, against which thou must guard thyself.
Thy words were good, both first and last; for if thou will it so, my daughter will be saved. Wilt have her clasp thy knees in suppliant wise? ’Tis no maid’s part; yet if it seem good to thee, why come she shall with the modest look of free-born maid. But if I shall obtain the self-same end from thee without her coming, then let her abide within, for there is dignity in her reserve; still reserve must only go as far as the case allows.
ACHILLES Bring not thou thy daughter out for me to see, lady, nor let us incur the reproach of the ignorant; for an army, when gathered together without domestic duties to employ it, loves the evil gossip of malicious tongues. After all, should ye supplicate me, ye will attain a like result as if I had never been supplicated; for I am myself engaged in a mighty struggle to rid you of your troubles. One thing be sure thou hast heard; I will not tell a lie. If I do that or idly mock thee, may I die, but live if I preserve the maid.
CLYTEMNESTRA Bless thee for ever succouring the distressed!
ACHILLES Hearken then to me, that the matter may succeed.
CLYTEMNESTRA What is thy proposal? For hear thee I must.
ACHILLES Let us once more urge her father to a better frame of mind.
CLYTEMNESTRA He is something of a coward, and fears the army too much.
ACHILLES Still argument overthroweth argument.
CLYTEMNESTRA Cold hope indeed; but tell me what I must do.
ACHILLES Entreat him first not to slay his children, and if he is stubborn, come to me. For if he consents to thy request, my intervention need go no further, since this consent ensures thy safety. I too shall show myself in a better light to my friend, and the army will not blame me, if I arrange the matter by reason rather than force; while, should things turn out well, the result will prove satisfactory both to thee and thy friends, even without my interference.
CLYTEMNESTRA How sensibly thou speakest! I must act as seemeth best to thee; but should I fail of my object, where am I to see thee again? Whither must I turn my wretched steps and find thee ready to champion my distress?
ACHILLES I am keeping watch to guard thee, where occasion calls, that none see thee passing through the host of Danai with that scared look. Shame not thy father’s house, for Tyndareus deserveth not to be ill spoken of, being a mighty man in Hellas.
CLYTEMNESTRA ’Tis even so. Command me; I must play the slave to thee. If there are gods, thou for thy righteous dealing wilt find them favourable; if there are none, what need to toil?
Exeunt ACHILLES and CLYTEMNESTRA
CHORUS What wedding-hymn was that which raised its strains to the sound of Libyan flutes, to the music of the dancer’s lyre, and the note of the pipe of reeds?
’Twas in the day Pieria’s fair-tressed choir came over the slopes of Pelion to the marriage-feast of Peleus, beating the ground with print of golden sandals at the banquet of the gods, and hymning in dulcet strains the praise of Thetis and the son of Aeacus, over the Centaurs’ hill, down through the woods of Pelion.
There was the Dardanian boy, Phrygian Ganymede, whom Zeus delights to honour, drawing off the wine he mixed in the depths of golden bowls; while, along the gleaming sand, the fifty daughters of Nereus graced the marriage with their dancing, circling in a mazy ring.
Came too the revel-rout of Centaurs, mounted on horses, to the feast of the gods and the mixing-bowl of Dionysus, leaning on fir-trees, with wreaths of green foliage round their heads; and loudly cried the prophet Chiron, skilled in arts inspired by Phoebus; “Daughter of Nereus, thou shalt bear a son”—whose name he gave—“a dazzling light to Thessaly; for he shall come with an army of spearmen to the far-famed land of Priam, to set it in a blaze, his body cased in a suit of golden mail forged by Hephaestus, a gift from his goddess-mother, even from Thetis who bore him.”
Then shed the gods a blessing on the marriage of the h
igh-born bride, who was first of Nereus’ daughters, and on the wedding of Peleus. But thee, will Argives crown, wreathing the lovely tresses of thy hair, like a dappled mountain hind brought from some rocky cave or a heifer undefiled, and staining with blood thy human throat; though thou wert never reared like these amid the piping and whistling of herdsmen, but at thy mother’s side, to be decked one day by her as the bride of a son of Inachus.[67] Where now does the face of modesty or virtue avail aught? Seeing that godlessness holds sway, and virtue is neglected by men and thrust behind them, lawlessness over law prevailing, and mortals no longer making common cause to keep the jealousy of gods from reaching them.
CLYTEMNESTRA (Reappearing from the tent) I have come from the tent to look out for my husband, who went away and left its shelter long ago; while that poor child, my daughter, hearing of the death her father designs for her, is in tears, uttering in many keys her piteous lamentation. (Catching sight of AGAMEMNON) It seems I was speaking of one not far away; for there is Agamemnon, who will soon be detected in the commission of a crime against his own child.
Enter AGAMEMNON
AGAMEMNON Daughter of Leda, ’tis lucky I have found thee outside the tent, to discuss with thee in our daughter’s absence subjects not suited for the ears of maidens on the eve of marriage.
CLYTEMNESTRA What, pray, is dependent on the present crisis?
AGAMEMNON Send the maiden out to join her father, for the lustral water stands there ready, and barley-meal to scatter with the hand on the cleansing flame, and heifers to be slain in honour of the goddess Artemis, to usher in the marriage, their black blood spouting from them.
CLYTEMNESTRA Though fair the words thou usest, I know not how I am to name thy deeds in terms of praise.
Come forth, my daughter; full well thou knowest what is in thy father’s mind. Take the child Orestes, thy brother, and bring him with thee in the folds of thy robe.
Enter IPHIGENIA
CLYTEMNESTRA Behold! She comes, in obedience to thy summons. Myself will speak the rest alike for her and me.
AGAMEMNON My child, why weepest thou and no longer lookest cheerfully? Why art thou fixing thine eyes upon the ground and holding thy robe before them?
CLYTEMNESTRA Alas! With which of my woes shall I begin? For I may treat them all as first, or put them last or midway anywhere.
AGAMEMNON How now? I find you all alike, confusion and alarm in every eye.
CLYTEMNESTRA My husband, answer frankly the questions I ask thee.
AGAMEMNON There is no necessity to order me; I am willing to be questioned.
CLYTEMNESTRA Dost thou mean to slay thy child and mine?
AGAMEMNON (Starting) Ha! These are heartless words, unwarranted suspicions!
CLYTEMNESTRA Peace! Answer me that question first.
AGAMEMNON Put a fair question and thou shalt have a fair answer.
CLYTEMNESTRA I have no other questions to put; give me no other answers.
AGAMEMNON Oh fate revered, oh destiny, and fortune mine!
CLYTEMNESTRA Aye, and mine and this maid’s too; the three share one bad fortune.
AGAMEMNON Whom have I injured?
CLYTEMNESTRA Dost thou ask me this question? A thought like that itself amounts to thoughtlessness.
AGAMEMNON Ruined! My secret out!
CLYTEMNESTRA I know all; I have heard what thou art bent on doing to me. Thy very silence and those frequent groans are a confession; tire not thyself by telling it.
AGAMEMNON Lo! I am silent; for, if I tell thee a falsehood, needs must I add effrontery to misfortune.
CLYTEMNESTRA Well, listen, for I will now unfold my meaning and no longer employ dark riddles. In the first place—to reproach thee first with this—it was not of my own free will but by force that thou didst take and wed me, after slaying Tantalus, my former husband, and dashing my babe on the ground alive, when thou hadst torn him from my breast with brutal violence. Then, when those two sons of Zeus, who were likewise my brothers, came flashing on horseback to war with thee, Tyndareus, my aged sire, rescued thee because of thy suppliant prayers, and thou in turn hadst me to wife. Once reconciled to thee upon this footing, thou wilt bear me witness I have been a blameless wife to thee and thy family, chaste in love, an honour to thy house, that so thy coming in might be with joy and thy going out with gladness. And ’tis seldom a man secures a wife like this, though the getting of a worthless woman is no rarity.
Besides three daughters, of one of whom thou art heartlessly depriving me, I am the mother of this son of thine. If anyone asks thee thy reason for slaying her, tell me, what wilt thou say? Or must say it for thee? “It is that Menelaus may recover Helen.” An honourable exchange, indeed, to pay a wicked woman’s price in children’s lives! ’Tis buying what we most detest with what we hold most dear. Again, if thou go forth with the host, leaving me in thy halls, and art long absent at Troy, what will my feelings be at home, dost think? When I behold each vacant chair and her chamber now deserted, and then sit down alone in tears, making ceaseless lamentation for her: “Ah! My child, he that begat thee hath slain thee himself, he and no one else, nor was it by another’s hand.”
And what might befall when thou shouldst return to thy home, after leaving such a price to be paid? For it needs now but a trifling pretext for me and the daughters remaining to give thee the reception it is right thou shouldst receive.[68] I adjure thee by the gods: compel me not to sin against thee, nor sin thyself. Go to; suppose thou sacrifice the child; what prayer wilt thou utter, when ’tis done? What will the blessing be that thou wilt invoke upon thyself as thou art slaying our daughter? An ill returning maybe, seeing the disgrace that speeds thy going forth. Is it right that I should pray for any luck to attend thee? Surely we should deem the gods devoid of sense, if we harboured a kindly feeling towards murderers.
Shalt thou embrace thy children on thy coming back to Argos? Nay, thou hast no right. Will any child of thine ever face thee, if thou have surrendered one of them to death? Has this ever entered into thy calculations, or does thy one duty consist in carrying a sceptre about and marching at the head of an army? When thou might have made this fair proposal among the Argives; “Is it your wish, Achaeans, to sail for Phrygia’s shores? Why then, cast lots whose daughter has to die.” For that would have been a fair course for thee to pursue, instead of picking out thy own child for the victim and presenting her to the Danai; or Menelaus, inasmuch as it was his concern, should have slain Hermione for her mother. As it is, I, who still am true to thee, must lose my child; while she, who went astray, will return with her daughter and live in happiness at Sparta. If I am wrong in aught herein, answer me; but if my words have been fairly urged, do not still slay thy child, who is mine too, and thou wilt be wise.
CHORUS Hearken to her Agamemnon, for to join in saving thy children’s lives is surely a noble deed—none would gainsay this.
IPHIGENIA Had I the eloquence of Orpheus, my father, to move the rocks by chanted spells to follow me, or to charm by speaking whom I would, I had resorted to it. But as it is, I’ll bring my tears—the only art I know—for that I might attempt. And about thy knees, in suppliant wise, I twine my limbs; these limbs thy wife here bore. Destroy me not before my time, for sweet is to look upon the light, and force me not to visit scenes below. I was the first to call thee father, thou the first to call me child; the first was I to sit upon thy knee and give and take the fond caress. And this was what thou then wouldst say, “Shall I see thee, my child, living a happy prosperous life in a husband’s home one day, in a manner worthy of myself?” And I in my turn would ask, as I hung about thy beard, whereto I now am clinging, “How shall I see thee? Shall I be giving thee a glad reception in my halls, Father, in thy old age, repaying all thy anxious care in rearing me?”
I remember all we said; ’tis thou who hast forgotten and now wouldst take my life. By Pelops, I entreat thee spare me, by thy father Atreus and my mother here, who suffers now a second time the pangs she felt before when bearing me! Wha
t have I to do with the marriage of Paris and Helen? Why is his coming to prove my ruin, Father? Look upon me; one glance, one kiss bestow, that this at least I may carry to my death as a memorial of thee, though thou heed not my pleading. (Holding up the babe ORESTES) Feeble ally though thou art, brother, to thy loved ones, yet add thy tears to mine and entreat our father for thy sister’s life—even in babes there is a natural sense of ill. Oh Father, see this speechless supplication made to thee. Pity me; have mercy on my tender years! Yea, by thy beard we two fond hearts implore thy pity, the one a babe, a full-grown maid the other. By summing all my pleas in one, I will prevail in what I say. To gaze upon yon light is man’s most cherished gift; that life below is nothingness, and whoso longs for death is mad. Better live a life of woe than die a death of glory!
