by Euripides
LEADER
Helen, never believe that the stranger, whoe’er he was that came, has spoken naught but truth.
HELEN
Yet he said so clearly that my lord was dead.
LEADER
There is much that falsehood seems to make quite clear.
HELEN
The word of truth hath a very different sound to falsehood.
LEADER
Thou art inclined to misfortune, rather than to luck.
HELEN
Fear girds me with terrors as with a garment, and takes me in her train.
LEADER
What friends hast thou within the palace?
HELEN
All are my friends here save him who seeks to wed-me.
LEADER
Thy action then is clear; leave thy seat at the tomb.
HELEN
To what words or advice art thou leading up?
LEADER
Go in and question the daughter of the ocean Nereid, who knoweth all things, even Theonoe, whether thy husband is still alive, or whether he hath left the light of day; and when thou knowest for certain, be glad or sorrowful, as fits thy fortune. But before thou hast right knowledge, what shall sorrow avail thee? Nay, hearken to me; leave this tomb and seek the maiden’s company, that she may tell thee the truth, for from her shalt thou learn all. If thou abide here in this seat, what prospect hast thou? And I will myself go in with thee, and with thee inquire of the maiden’s oracles; for ’tis a woman’s bounden duty to share a sister’s trouble.
(The following lines are chanted responsively by HELEN and the CHORUS.)
HELEN
Kind friends, I welcome your advice. Come in, come in, that ye may learn the result of my struggle within the palace.
CHORUS
Thy invitation comes to very willing ears.
HELEN
Woe for this heavy day! Ah me! what mournful tidings shall hear?
CHORUS
Dear mistress mine, be not a prophetess of sorrow, forestalling lamentation.
HELEN
What is the fate of my poor husband? Doth he still behold the light turning towards the sun-god’s chariot and the stars in their courses? Or among the dead, beneath the earth, is he to death consigned?
CHORUS
Of the future take a brighter view, whatever shall betide.
HELEN
On thee I call, and thee adjure, Eurotas green with river-reeds, to tell me if this rumour of my husband’s death be true.
CHORUS
What boots this meaningless appeal?
HELEN
About my neck will I fasten the deadly noose from above, or drive the murderous knife with self-aimed thrust deep into my throat to sever it, striving to cut my flesh, a sacrifice to those goddesses three and to that son of Priam, who in days gone by would wake the music of his pipe around his steading.
CHORUS
Oh may sorrow be averted otherwhither, and thou be blest!
HELEN
Woe is thee, unhappy Troy! Thou through deeds not done by the art ruined, and hast suffered direst woe; for the gift that Cypris gave to me, hath caused a sea of blood to flow, and many an eye to weep, with grief on grief and tear on tear. All this hath Ilium suffered and mothers have lost their children; and virgin sisters of the slain have cut off their tresses by the swollen tide of Phrygian Scamander. And the land of Hellas hath lifted her voice of woe and broken forth in wailing, smiting on her head, and making tender cheeks to stream with gore beneath the rending nail. Ah blest maid Callisto, who long ago in Arcady didst find favour with Zeus, in the semblance of beast four-footed, how much happier was thy lot than my mother’s, for thou hast changed the burden of thy grief and now with savage eye art weeping o’er thy shaggy monster-shape; aye, and hers was a happier lot, whom on a day Artemis drove from her choir, changed to a hind with horns of gold, the fair Titanian maid, daughter of Merops, because of her beauty; but my fair form hath proved the curse of Dardan Troy and doomed Achaea’s sons.
(HELEN and the CHORUS go into the palace. After the doors have closed upon them, MENELAUS enters. He is alone and clad in rags.)
MENELAUS
Ah! Pelops, easy victor long ago o’er thy rival Oenomaus in the chariot-race on Pisa’s plain, would thou hadst ended thy career amongst the gods that day thou wert beguiled into making a banquet for them, or ever thou hadst begotten my father Atreus, to whom were born by Aerope his wife, Agamemnon and myself Menelaus, an illustrious pair; and herein I make no idle boast, for ’twas a mighty host, I trow, that I their leader carried o’er the sea to Troy, using no violence to make them follow me, but leading all the chivalry of Hellas by voluntary consent. And some of these must we number ‘mid the slain, and some to their joy have ‘scaped the sea, bearing to their homes again names long reckoned dead. But I, poor wretch, go wandering o’er grey Ocean’s swell a weary space, long as that which saw me sick the towers of Ilium; and for all my longing to reach my country I am not counted worthy of this boon by heaven, but to Libya’s desert cheerless roadsteads have I sailed, to each and all of them; and whensoe’er I draw me near my native land, the storm-wind drives me back again, and never yet have favouring breezes filled my sails, to let me reach my fatherland. And now a wretched, shipwrecked mariner, my friends all lost, am I cast up upon this shore; and my ship is shattered in a thousand pieces against the rocks; and its keel was wrested from its cunning fastenings; thereon did I with difficulty escape, most unexpectedly, and Helen also, for her had I rescued from Troy and had with me. But the name of this country and its people I know not; for I blushed to mingle with the crowd to question them, anxious for very shame to hide my misfortunes which reduce me to these sorry rags. For when a man of high degree meets with adversity, he feels the strangeness of his fallen state more keenly than a sufferer of long standing. Dire want is wasting me; for I have neither food, nor raiment to gird myself withal; behold the facts before you to judge from-I am clad in tatters cast up from the ship; while all the robes I once did wear, glorious attire and ornaments, bath the sea swallowed; and in a cavern’s deep recesses have I hidden my wife, the cause of all my trouble, and have come hither, after straitly charging the survivors of my friends to watch her. Alone am I come, seeking for those there left some help, if haply I may find it after careful search. So when I saw this palace girt with towering walls and stately gates of some prosperous lord, I drew nigh; for I have hope to obtain somewhat for my sailors from this wealthy house, whereas from houses which have no store, the inmates for all their goodwill could furnish naught. Ho! there, who keeps the gate and will come forth to bear my tale of woe into the house?
(A PORTRESS comes out of the palace in answer to his call.)
PORTRESS
Who stands before the door? Begone from the housel stand not at the court-yard gate, annoying my masters! otherwise shalt thou die, for thou art a Hellene born. and with them have we no dealings.
MENELAUS
Mother, herein sayest thou rightly on all points. ’Tis well; I will obey; but moderate thy words.
PORTRESS
Away! stranger, my orders are to admit no Hellene to this palace.
MENELAUS
Ha! do not seek to push me hence, or thrust me away by violence.
PORTRESS
Thou dost not heed my words, and therefore hast thyself to blame.
MENELAUS
Carry my message to thy master in the palace.
PORTRESS
Some one would rue it, methinks, were I to take thy message.
MENELAUS I come as a shipwrecked man and a stranger, whom heaven protects.
PORTRESS
Well, get thee to some other house than this.
MENELAUS
Nay, but I will pass into the house; so listen to me.
PORTRESS
Let me tell thee thou art unwelcome, and soon wilt be forcibly ejected.
MENELAUS
Ah me! where are now those famous troops
of mine?
PORTRESS
Elsewhere maybe thou wert a mighty man; thou art not here.
MENELAUS O fortune! I have not deserved such insult.
PORTRESS
Why are thy eyes with tear-drops wet? Why so sad?
MENELAUS ’Tis the contrast with my fortunes erst so blest.
PORTRESS
Hence! then, and give thy friends those tears.
MENELAUS
What land is this? whose is the palace?
PORTRESS
Proteus lives here. It is the land of Egypt.
MENELAUS
Egypt? Woe is me! to think that hither I have sailed!
PORTRESS
Pray, what fault hast thou to find with the race of Nile?
MENELAUS ’Twas no fault I found; my own disasters I lament.
PORTRESS
There be plenty in evil case; thou art not the only one.
MENELAUS
Is the king, of whom thou speakest, here within?
PORTRESS
There is his tomb; his son rules in his stead.
MENELAUS
And where may he be? abroad, or in the house?
PORTRESS
He is not within. To Hellas is he a bitter foe.
MENELAUS
His reason, pray, for this enmity? the results whereof I have experienced.
PORTRESS
Beneath this roof dwells the daughter of Zeus, Helen.
MENELAUS
What mean’st thou? what is it thou hast said? Repeat, I pray, thy
words.
PORTRESS
The daughter of Tyndareus is here, who erst in Sparta dwelt.
MENELAUS
Whence came she? What means this business?
PORTRESS
She came from Lacedaemon hither.
MENELAUS
When? Surely I have never been robbed of my wife from the cave!
PORTRESS
Before the Achaeans went to Troy, sir stranger. But get thee hence; for somewhat hath chanced within, whereat the whole palace is in an uproar. Thou comest most unseasonably; and if my master catch thee, death will be thy stranger’s gift. This say I, because to Hellas I am well disposed, albeit I gave thee harsh answers for fear of my master.
(The PORTRESS goes back into the palace.)
MENELAUS
What can I think or say? For after my previous troubles, this is a fresh piece of ill-luck I hear, if, indeed, after recovering my wife from Troy and bringing her hither, and putting her for safety in the cave, I am then to find another woman living here with the same name as my wife. She called her the begotten child of Zeus. Can there be a man that hath the name of Zeus by the banks of Nile? The Zeus of heaven is only one, at any rate. Where is there a Sparta in the world save where Eurotas glides between his reedy banks? The name of Tyndareus is the name of one alone. Is there any land of the same name as Lacedaemon or Troy? I know not what to say; for naturally there are many in the wide world that have the same names, cities and women too; there is nothing, then, to marvel at. Nor yet again will I fly from the alarm a servant raises; for there is none so cruel of heart as to refuse me food when once he hears my name. All have heard of Ilium’s burning, and I, that set it ablaze, am famous now throughout the world, I, Menelaus. I therefore wait the master of this house. There are two issues I must watch; if he prove somewhat stern of heart, I will to my wreck and there conceal myself; but if he show any sign of pity, I will ask for help in this my present strait. This is the crowning woe in all my misery, to beg the means of life from other princes, prince though I be myself; still needs must I. Yea, this is no saying of mine, but a word of wisdom, “Naught in might exceedeth dread necessity.”
(HELEN and the CHORUS enter from the palace. They do not notice MENELAUS.)
CHORUS (singing) I have heard the voice of the maiden inspired. Clear is the answer she hath vouchsafed within yon palace, declaring that Menelaus is not yet dead and buried, passed to the land of shades, where darkness takes the place of light; but on the stormy main is wearing out his life, nor yet hath reached the haven of his country, a wanderer dragging out a piteous existence, reft of every friend, setting foot in every corner of the world, as he voyageth home from Troy.
HELEN
Lo! once again I seek the shelter of this tomb, with Theonoe’s sweet tidings in my ears; she that knoweth all things of a truth; for she saith my lord is yet alive and in the light of day, albeit he is roaming to and fro after many a weary voyage, and hither shall he come whenso he reach the limit of his toils, no novice in the wanderer’s life. But one thing did she leave unsaid. Is he to escape when he hath come? And I refrained from asking that question clearly, so glad was I when she told me he was safe. For she said that he was somewhere nigh this shore, cast up by shipwreck with a handful of friends. Ah! when shall I see thee come? How welcome will thy advent be! (She catches sight of MENELAUS.) Ha! who is this? Am I being snared by some trick of Proteus’ impious son? Oh! let me, like a courser at its speed, or a votary of Bacchus, approach the tomb! for there is something wild about this fellow’s looks, who is eager to o’ertake me.
MENELAUS
Ho there! thou that with fearful effort seekest to reach the basement of the tomb and the pillars of burnt sacrifice, stay thee. Wherefore art flying? Ah! with what speechless amaze the sight of thee affects me!
HELEN O friends! I am being ill-treated. This man is keeping me from the tomb, and is eager to take and give me to his master, whose wooing I was seeking to avoid.
MENELAUS
No robber I, or minister of evil.
HELEN
At any rate the garb wherein thou art clad is unseemly.
MENELAUS
Stay thy hasty flight; put fear aside.
HELEN I do so, now that I have reached this spot.
MENELAUS
Who art thou? whom do I behold in thee, lady?
HELEN
Nay, who art thou? The self-same reason prompts us both.
MENELAUS never saw a closer resemblance.
HELEN
Great God! Yea, for to recognize our friends is of God.
MENELAUS
Art thou from Hellas, or a native of this land?
HELEN
From Hellas; but I would learn thy story too.
MENELAUS
Lady, in thee I see a wondrous likeness to Helen.
HELEN
And I in thee to Menelaus; I know not what to say.
MENELAUS
Well, thou hast recognized aright a man of many sorrows.
HELEN
Hail! to thy wife’s arms restored at last!
MENELAUS
Wife indeed! Lay not a finger on my robe.
HELEN
The wife that Tyndareus, my father, gave thee.
MENELAUS O Hecate, giver of light, send thy visions favourably!
HELEN
In me thou beholdest no spectre of the night, attendant on the queen of phantoms.
MENELAUS
Nor yet am I in my single person the husband of two wives.
HELEN
What other woman calls thee lord?
MENELAUS
The inmate of yonder cave, whom I from Troy convey.
HELEN
Thou hast none other wife but me.
MENELAUS
Can it be my mind is wandering, my sight failing?
HELEN
Dost not believe thou seest in me thy wife?
MENELAUS
Thy form resembles her, but the real truth robs me of this belief.
HELEN
Observe me well; what need hast thou of clearer proof?
MENELAUS
Thou art like her; that will I never deny.
HELEN
Who then shall teach thee, unless it be thine own eyes?
MENELAUS
Herein is my dilemma; I have another wife.
HELEN
To Troy I never went; that was a phan
tom.
MENELAUS
Pray, who fashions living bodies?
HELEN
The air, whence thou hast a wife of heaven’s workmanship.
MENELAUS
What god’s handiwork? Strange is the tale thou tellest.
HELEN
Hera made it as a substitute, to keep me from Paris.
MENELAUS
How then couldst thou have been here, and in Troy, at the same time?
HELEN
The name may be in many a place at once, though not the body.
MENELAUS
Unhand me! the sorrows I brought with me suffice.
HELEN
What! wilt leave me, and take that phantom bride away?
MENELAUS
For thy likeness unto Helen, fare thee well.
HELEN
Ruined! in thee I found my lord only to lose thee.
MENELAUS
The greatness of my troubles at Troy convinces me; thou dost not.
HELEN
Ah, woe is me! who was ever more unfortunate than I? Those whom I love best are leaving me, nor shall I ever reach Hellas, my own dear native land.
(The FIRST MESSENGER enters in haste.)
MESSENGER
At last I find thee, Menelaus, after an anxious search, not till I have evandered through the length and breadth of this foreign strand; I am sent by thy comrades, whom thou didst leave behind.
MENELAUS
What news? surely you are not being spoiled by the barbarians?
MESSENGER A miracle hath happened; my words are too weak for the reality.
