by Aeschylus
I’ve none of these.
It’s true you can’t marry my sister as I once promised
but you’ll find someone else. Have children, a life.
Our connection is ended. Beloved comrade, farewell.
She and I are finished, but you—may you fare and be well.
PYLADES : Oh you’re way off target. I would never desert you—
may the ground not accept my blood when I die,
nor the bright air my soul, if I am lying.
No, I joined in the murder, I do not plead innocence,
I plotted it by your side.
So I join you in death—you, me and this girl
I did agree to marry her after all.
And what would I have to say for myself in later life
if I stopped being your friend the minute you got into trouble?
No.
We’re going to die together, so let’s confer:
How can we make sure Menelaos suffers too?
ORESTES : You genius friend, how I would love to see that!
PYLADES : Well, listen up.
ORESTES : I’m listening. I do want revenge.
PYLADES : Are these women trustworthy?
ORESTES : Yes they are friends.
PYLADES : How about we murder Helen? That would cause Menelaos pain.
ORESTES : How? I’m ready.
PYLADES : Cut her throat. Is she inside your house?
ORESTES : Yes. She’s made it her own.
PYLADES : Not anymore. She’s the bride of death now.
ORESTES : But how? She has slaves.
PYLADES : What sort of slaves? Mere Trojans don’t scare me.
ORESTES : The sort who look after mirrors and perfumes.
PYLADES : You mean she’s come here with all the luxuries of Troy?
ORESTES : I guess she finds culture in Greece a bit thin.
PYLADES : Well, free men against slaves, that’s no problem.
ORESTES : I’d gladly die for this!
PYLADES : Likewise! I’ll avenge you!
ORESTES : Explain your plan.
PYLADES : We go into the house pretending we’re going to kill ourselves.
ORESTES : Okay.
PYLADES : We moan to Helen about our troubles.
ORESTES : Bring tears to her eyes—though she’ll be laughing on the inside.
PYLADES : Exactly.
ORESTES : Then what?
PYLADES : We’ll have swords ready under our clothing.
ORESTES : What about the slaves?
PYLADES : Lock them in another room.
ORESTES : Kill the ones who make noise.
PYLADES : After that it’s obvious.
ORESTES : Death for Helen.
PYLADES : You got it. Because, here’s my reasoning:
if we were assassinating someone respectable it would be different.
But all Greeks want this whore taken out. She’s virtually a mass murderer.
They’ll call us heroes! No more “matricide” label for you.
And it must not happen, it simply must not happen
that Menelaos prospers from all this while you, your sister,
your mother—well, I won’t go there.
Or that Menelaos has your house when it was Agamemnon
got his wife back for him! God, how I long to put my sword through her throat!
But if we’re somehow foiled we’ll set fire to these buildings before we die.
Go out in a blaze of glory, safe or sorry!
CHORUS : She’s a disgrace to her sex that Helen.
ORESTES : Nothing is better than a genuine friend!
Not wealth, not power, there is simply no equivalent.
First you help me against Aigisthos, stand by me in danger,
then you offer me revenge on my enemies—you’re brilliant!
But I won’t go on praising, I know it gets onerous.
I’ll be breathing out my life here soon, I want to do my enemies down,
repay their treachery, make them groan.
I am Agamemnon’s son. He ruled Greece by merit,
not royal succession. And got strength from god.
I will not shame him with a slave’s death.
No, I’ll die free. And punish Menelaos.
Of course what I’d like is to kill without having to die.
That would be ideal. I’ll make that my prayer.
Doesn’t cost anything to fantasize.
ELEKTRA : I agree.
Salvation for us all would be ideal.
ORESTES : But how?
ELEKTRA : Listen—[to PYLADES] you too.
ORESTES : Go on.
ELEKTRA : You know Helen’s daughter?
ORESTES : Hermione, yes. My mother raised her.
ELEKTRA : She’s gone with grave offerings on Helen’s behalf.
ORESTES : So?
ELEKTRA : Take her hostage on her way back.
ORESTES : How will that save us?
ELEKTRA : When Helen’s dead and Menelaos tries to do anything
to you or me, tell him you’ll kill Hermione. Hold a sword at her throat.
If he complies, if he’s willing to save you, give the girl back.
If he blusters,
graze her throat with the sword.
I think he’ll come round. He’s no tough guy.
End of speech.
ORESTES : Elektra, you think like a man!
You deserve to live not die.
What a wife you have lost in her, Pylades—or maybe not, if we survive!
PYLADES : If only that could happen!
I’d bring her back to my hometown—big wedding,
wedding songs, the whole thing.
ORESTES : But how soon will Hermione return here?
Your plan is excellent, provided we actually intercept her precious little self.
ELEKTRA : She should arrive anytime now.
ORESTES : Good, then you wait for her in front of the house, Elektra.
Keep watch in case anyone else shows up
before we’re finished killing—
some uncle or ally of her father—
let us know: bang on the door or send word in.
As for us—into the house for the final test!
Pylades, let’s get our swords.
[Turning away.] O Father who dwells in the house of Night
I call upon you, Orestes your son, I call you to come as my ally.
ELEKTRA : Yes Father, come to us. If you hear us. Your children invoke you.
We are about to die for your sake.
PYLADES : Agamemnon, kinsman of my father, hear my prayers.
Save your children.
ORESTES : I killed my mother—
ELEKTRA : I touched his sword—
PYLADES : I urged him on, released him from fear.
ORESTES : We stood in your defense, Father—
ELEKTRA : we did not betray you!
PYLADES : Hearing these claims will you not save your children?
ORESTES : With my tears I pour you libation.
ELEKTRA : And I with my laments.
PYLADES : Enough! It’s time to get on with the work.
If cries do penetrate the ground, he hears.
Zeus and Justice, grant us victory!
Three friends, one trial, one righteousness.
Either to live or to die!
[Exit ORESTES and PYLADES.]
ELEKTRA : Dear women of Argos—
CHORUS : Yes, lady.
ELEKTRA : Stand you some by the road, some on the path by the house.
Keep watch for us.
CHORUS : Watch for what?
ELEKTRA : Lest someone come along in the midst of the bloodshed.
CHORUS A : Go, hurry, I’ll guard this path facing east.
CHORUS B : And I this road facing west.
ELEKTRA : Swivel your eyes from this side to that.
CHORUS : We watch as you tell us.
ELEKTRA :
Try to see everything.
CHORUS A : Who’s that on the path? Some farmer comes near!
ELEKTRA : We’re lost! He’ll see us!
CHORUS A : Calm down, dear, he’s gone. The path is empty.
ELEKTRA : [Turning.] What about your side? Is it still clear?
CHORUS B : All’s well here.
CHORUS A : Same on this side. No one coming.
ELEKTRA : I’ll put my ear to the door.
You in there, why so slow?
Get on with killing!
Ha, they’re not listening. Ruin!
Faced with her beauty, do their swords go dull?
Soon some Argive will come racing to the rescue.
Take a better look now! No time to sit still!
You go this way, you go that.
CHORUS : We’re watching in every direction.
[Cry from within.] O Argos, I am being murdered!
ELEKTRA : Hear that? The men are putting their hands in blood.
CHORUS : Sounds like Helen screaming.
ELEKTRA : O unfailing force of Zeus,
come as our ally!
[Cry from within.] Menelaos, I am dying! Why aren’t you here?
ELEKTRA : Strike her, slaughter her, ruin her, finish her off!
Slash with the two-edged sword that father-forsaking husband-forsaking cause of death cause of tears for so many good Greek men on the banks of the river of Troy!
CHORUS : Quiet, quiet, I hear the sound of someone coming near the house.
ELEKTRA : Dear women, here is Hermione into the midst of murder. Let’s stop shouting.
She is going to walk straight into the net.
A fine catch, if we catch her!
Take up your stations, keep your face calm.
I’ll have my eyes cast down as though I’ve no idea what’s happening.
Hermione, have you come from Klytaimestra’s grave?
Have you poured your libations?
HERMIONE : Yes, I’ve received her blessing. But I’m anxious—I heard an outcry from the house when I was quite far off.
ELEKTRA : Really? An outcry? Well, our situation deserves outcry.
HERMIONE : Do you have some news?
ELEKTRA : Death is decreed for Orestes and me.
HERMIONE : God forbid—you are my kin!
ELEKTRA : It is fixed. We stand in the yoke of necessity.
HERMIONE : Was that the reason for the shouting in the house?
ELEKTRA : Yes, he fell at Helen’s knees in supplication.
HERMIONE : Who?
ELEKTRA : Poor Orestes.
HERMIONE : No wonder the house resounds.
ELEKTRA : Yes, no wonder. But won’t you come and join our supplication
to your mother? Menelaos is ready to kill us!
HERMIONE : Indeed I will come.
May you be saved insofar as it rests with me.
[Exit HERMIONE almost.]
HERMIONE : Who is this?
ELEKTRA : Silence!
Salvation is here for us not you. Take her, take her, put the sword to her throat and hold it there!
So Menelaos knows he’s dealing with men, not Trojan toyboys!
CHORUS : IO! IO! Women!
Stamp your feet, raise a song, cover the
sounds in the house!
Lest the Argives run to help
before I see, before I truly see
Helen lying in her own blood
or hear it from an eyewitness!
I know part of what happened, the rest is not clear.
I know Justice came down from the gods against Helen—
Helen who filled all Greece with tears
for the sake of that ruinous Paris and dragged the Greeks to Troy!
What’s that sound?
One of her Trojan entourage is coming out.
[Enter TROJAN SLAVE.]
SLAVE : I escaped from death, I escaped from doom—
in my own dear little slippers
I fled that room! O sisters!
which way can I fly
to the sea or the sky
or a big dark underground hole
to save my own dear little soul!
CHORUS : What are you saying, you barbarian flunky, what’s going on?
SLAVE : Alas! Alas! My city is gone!
Scraps of it remain not one!
Alas for Troy! Alas for me!
You know it’s quite unique to be
subject to so immoderate a catastrophe!
And my dear little song will make you see
Helen’s to blame!
Helen’s your shame!
That venge-kitty poison-pretty whore! Alas alas woe!
CHORUS : Can you just tell me what’s happening inside?
SLAVE : Where I come from people say bad shit happening
when they mean death.
Another quaint barbarian idiom is real bad
shit happening—
that covers blood on the floors
and a houseful of swords.
Let’s cut to the wail.
You want some detail.
Two Greek lions came into the house
one an army brat the other street sharp
but quiet as a mouse.
Him I did not trust—snake eyes, you know?
So all in tears, all humble, crouching low
they come toward Helen from different angles.
Meanwhile her bodyguards are busy
rearranging their bangles—
they can’t figure whether or not it’s a trick (your average bodyguard’s not too quick).
CHORUS : Where are you at this point?
SLAVE : Well girls, as it happens, I’m wafting a breeze
past her ladyship’s knees
and cooling her cheek with a big Trojan feather,
while she works her fingers off at the loom
making crimson cloth for Klytaimestra’s tomb.
Then Orestes calls to her saying, “Helen dear,
put down your weaving and come over here.”
He leads her, he leads her, she follows away and then it gets worse, Helen’s bad day.
The snaky guy jumps on the bodyguards snarling out his lips,
“You Trojan trash, I’ll clip your tips!”
He shoves us into cupboards, locks up the links.
Poor us, we were helpless! but we spy
through the chinks.
CHORUS : What next?
SLAVE : Horror! Mayhem! Terrible! Alas!
Bloodiness, lawlessness, evils came to pass!
What I saw, what I saw, in the house of my lords—
from out their own shadows those two pull
their swords,
one from one side, the other from the
other,
like wild mountain boars rushing out from
cover,
they stand facing the woman saying, “You
die!
Your weak husband is why:
he betrayed his own kin unto death.”
She cries out “Woe!” and gasps for breath.
Then claps her white arms over her face
to beat a retreat out of that place.
But Orestes flings his hand in her hair
and yanks her back from going anywhere,
ready to strike his sword into her deep—
CHORUS : So where are you and the guards, asleep?
