by Euripides
AG. For long to us is the coming absence.
IPH. I know not what you mean, I know not, dearest father mine.
AG. Speaking sensibly, thou movest me the more to pity.
IPH. I will speak foolishly, if I so may rejoice you.
AG. Alas! I can not keep silence, but I commend thee.
IPH. Remain, O father, in the house with thy children,
AG. I fain would, but not having what I would, I am pained.
IPH. Perish war and the ills of Menelaus!
AG. What has undone me will first undo others.
IPH. How long a time wast thou absent in the recesses of Aulis!
AG. And now also there is something hinders me from sending on the army.
IPH. Where say they that the Phrygians dwell, father?
AG. Where would that Paris, Priam’s son, had never dwelt.
IPH. And dost thou go a long distance, O father, when thou leavest me?
AG. Thou art come, my daughter, to the same state with thy father.
IPH. Alas! would that it were fitting me and thee to take me with thee as thy fellow-sailor.
AG. But there is yet a sailing for thee, where thou wilt remember thy father.
IPH. Shall I go, sailing with my mother, or alone?
AG. Alone, apart from thy father and mother.
IPH. What, art thou going to make me dwell in other houses, father?
AG. Cease. It is not proper for girls to know these matters.
IPH. Hasten back from Phrygia, do, my father, having settled matters well there.
AG. It first behooves me to offer a certain sacrifice here.
IPH. But it is with the priests that thou shouldst consider sacred matters.
AG. [Yet] shalt thou know it, for thou wilt stand round the altar.
IPH. What, shall we stand in chorus round the altar, my father?
AG. I deem thee happier than myself, for that thou know-est nothing. But go within the house, that the girls may behold thee, having given me a sad kiss and thy right hand, being about to dwell a long time away from thy sire. O bosom and cheeks, O yellow tresses, how has the city of the Phrygians proved a burden to us, and Helen! I cease my words, for swift does the drop trickle from mine eyes when I touch thee. Go into the house. But I, I crave thy pardon, (to Clytæmnestra,) daughter of Leda, if I showed too much feeling, being about to bestow my daughter on Achilles. For the departure [of a girl] is a happy one, but nevertheless it pains the parents, when a father, who has toiled much, delivers up his children to another home.
CLY. I am not so insensible — but think thou that I shall experience the same feelings, (so that I should not chide thee,) when I lead forth my girl with nuptial rejoicings, but custom wears away these thoughts in course of time. I know, however, the name of him to whom thou hast promised thy daughter, but I would fain know of what race, and whence [he is.]
AG. Ægina was the daughter of her father Asopus.
CLY. And who of mortals or of Gods wedded her?
AG. Jove, and she gave birth to Æacus, prince of Œnone.
CLY. But what son obtained the house of Æacus?
AG. Peleus, and Peleus obtained the daughter of Nereus.
CLY. By the gift of the God, or taking her in spite of the Gods?
AG. Jove acted as a sponsor, and bestowed her, having the power.
CLY. And where does he wed her? In the wave of the sea?
AG. Where Chiron dwells at the sacred foot of Pelion.
CLY. Where they say that the race of Centaurs dwells?
AG. Here the Gods celebrated the nuptial feast of Peleus.
CLY. But did Thetis, or his father, train up Achilles?
AG. Chiron, that he might not learn the manners of evil mortals.
CLY. Hah! wise was the instructor, and wiser he who intrusted him.
AG. Such a man will be the husband of thy child.
CLY. Not to be found fault with. But what city in Greece does he inhabit?
AG. Near the river Apidanus in the confines of Phthia.
CLY. Thither will he lead thy virgin [daughter] and mine.
AG. This shall be the care of him, her possessor.
CLY. And may the pair be happy; but on what day will he wed her?
AG. When the prospering orb of the moon comes round.
CLY. But hast thou already sacrificed the first offerings for thy daughter to the Goddess?
AG. I am about to do so. In this matter we are now engaged.
CLY. And wilt thou then celebrate a wedding-feast afterward?
AG. [Ay,] having sacrificed such offerings as it behooves me to sacrifice to the Gods.
CLY. But where shall we set out a banquet for the women?
AG. Here, by the fair-pooped ships of the Greeks.
CLY. Well, and poorly, forsooth! but may it nevertheless turn out well.
AG. Do then thou knowest what, O lady, and obey me.
CLY. In what? for I am accustomed to obey thee.
AG. We indeed in this place, where the bridegroom is —
CLY. Will do what without the mother, [of those things] which it behooves me to do?
AG. — will bestow your daughter among the Greeks.
CLY. But where must I be in the mean time?
AG. Go to Argos, and take care of your virgins.
CLY. Leaving my child? And who will bear the [nuptial] torch?
AG. I will furnish the light that becomes the nuptials.
CLY. The custom is not thus, but you think these matters trifles.
AG. It is not proper that thou shouldst mingle in the crowd of the army.
CLY. It is proper that I, the mother, should bestow at least my own daughter.
AG. And it [is proper] that the damsels at home should not be alone.
CLY. They are well guarded in their close chambers.
AG. Obey me.
CLY. [No,] by the Argive Goddess queen. But go you, and attend to matters abroad, but I [will mind] the affairs at home, as to the things which should be present to virgins at their wedding.
AG. Alas! In vain have I toiled, and have been frustrated in my hope, wishing to send my wife out of my sight. But I am using stratagems, and finding contrivances against those I best love, overcome at all points. But nevertheless with the prophet Calchas I will go and ask the pleasure of the Goddess, not fortunate for me, the trouble of Greece. But it behooves a wise man either to support a useful and good wife in his house or not to marry at all.
CHORUS. The assembly of the Grecian army will come to Simois, and to the silver eddies, both with ships and with arms, to Ilium, and to the Phœbeian plain of Troy, where I hear that Cassandra, adorned with a green-blossoming crown of laurel, lets loose her yellow locks, when the prophetic influence of the Gods breathes upon her. And the Trojans will stand upon the towers of Troy and around its walls, when brazen-shielded Mars, borne over the sea in fair-prowed ships, approaches the beds of Simois by rowing, seeking to bear away Helen, [the sister] of the twain sons of Jove in heaven, into the land of Greece, by the war-toiling shields and spears of the Greeks. But having surrounded Pergamus, the city of the Phrygians, around its towers of stone, with bloody Mars, having torn off the heads [of the citizens] cut from their necks, having completely ravaged the city of Troy, he will make the daughters and wife of Priam shed many tears. But Helen, the daughter of Jove, will sit† in sad lamentation, having left her husband. Never upon me or upon my children’s children may this expectation come, such as the wealthy Lydian and Phrygian wives possess while at their spinning, conversing thus with each other. Who, dragging out my fair-haired tresses, will choose me as his spoil despite my tears, while my country is perishing? Through thee [forsooth,] the offspring of the long-necked swan, if indeed the report is true, that Leda † met with a winged bird, when the body of Jove was transformed, and then in the tablets of the muses fables spread these reports among men, inopportunely, and in vain.
[Enter ACHILLES.]
ACHILLES. Where about here is the
general of the Greeks? Who of the servants will tell him that Achilles, the son of Peleus, is seeking him at the gates? For we do not remain by the Euripus in equal condition; for some of us being unyoked in nuptials, having left our solitary homes, sit here upon the shore, but others, having wives and children: so violent a passion for this expedition has fallen upon Greece, not without the will of the Gods. It is therefore right that I should speak of what concerns me, and whoever else wishes will himself speak for himself. For leaving the Pharsalian land, and Peleus, I am waiting for these light gales of Euripus, restraining the Myrmidons, who are continually pressing me, and saying, “Achilles, why tarry we? what manner of time must the armament against Troy yet measure out? At any rate act, if you are going to do any thing, or lead the army home, not abiding the delays of the Atrides.”
CLY. O son of the Goddess, daughter of Nereus, hearing from within thy words, I have come out before the house.
ACH. O hallowed modesty, who can this woman be whom I behold here, possessing a fair-seeming form?
CLY. It is no wonder that you know me not, whom you have never seen before, but I commend you because you respect modesty.
ACH. But who art thou? And wherefore hast thou come to the assembly of the Greeks, a woman to men guarded with shields?
CLY. I am the daughter of Leda, and Clytæmnestra is my name, and my husband is king Agamemnon.
ACH. Well hast thou in few words spoken what is seasonable. But it is unbecoming for me to converse with women. (Is going.)
CLY. Remain, (why dost thou fly?) at least join thy right hand with mine, as a happy commencement of betrothal.
ACH. What sayest thou? I [give] thee my right hand? I should be ashamed of Agamemnon, if I touched what is not lawful for me.
CLY. It is particularly lawful, since you are going to wed my daughter, O son of the sea Goddess, daughter of Nereus.
ACH. What marriage dost thou say? Surprise possesses me, lady, unless, being beside yourself, you speak this new thing.
CLY. This is the nature of all people, to be ashamed when they behold new friends, and are put in mind of nuptials.
ACH. I never wooed thy daughter, lady, nor has any thing been said to me on the subject of marriage by the Atrides.
CLY. What can it be? Do you in turn marvel at my words, for thine are a marvel to me.
ACH. Conjecture; these matters are a common subject for conjecture, for both of us perhaps are deceived in our words.
CLY. But surely I have suffered terrible things! I am acting as match-maker in regard to a marriage that has no existence. I am ashamed of this.
ACH. Perhaps some one has trifled with both me and thee. But pay no attention to it, and bear it with indifference.
CLY. Farewell, for I can no longer behold thee with uplifted eyes, having appeared as a liar, and suffered unworthy things.
ACH. And this same [farewell] is thine from me. But I will go seek thy husband within this house.
[The OLD MAN appears at the door of the house.]
OLD M. O stranger, grandson of Æacus, remain. Ho! thee, I say, the son of the Goddess, and thee, the daughter of Leda.
ACM. Who is it that calls, partially opening the doors? With what terror he calls!
OLD M. A slave. I will not be nice about the title, for fortune allows it not.
ACH. Of whom? for thou art not mine. My property and Agamemnon’s are different.
OLD M. Of this lady who is before the house, the gift of her father Tyndarus.
ACH. We are still. Say if thou wantest any thing, for which thou hast stopped me.
OLD M. Are ye sure that ye alone stand before these gates?
CLY. Ay, so that you may speak to us only. But come out from the royal dwelling.
OLD M. (Coming forward) O fortune, and foresight mine, preserve whom I wish.
ACH. These words will do for a future occasion, for they have some weight.
CLY. By thy right hand [I beseech thee,] delay not, if thou hast aught to say to me.
OLD M. Thou knowest then, being what manner of man, I have been by nature well disposed to thee and thy children.
CLY. I know thee as being a faithful servant to my house.
OLD M. And that king Agamemnon received me among thy dowry.
CLY. Thou camest into Argos with us, and thou wast always mine.
OLD M. So it is, and I am well disposed to thee, but less so to thy husband.
CLY. Unfold now at least to me what words you are saying.
OLD M. The father who begat her is about to slay thy daughter with his own hand.
CLY. How? I deprecate thy words, old man, for thou thinkest not well.
OLD M. Cutting the fair neck of the hapless girl with the sword.
CLY. O wretched me! Is my husband mad?
OLD M. He is in his right mind, save with respect to thee and thy daughter, but in this he is not wise.
CLY. Upon what grounds? What maddening fiend impels him?
OLD M. The oracles, as at least Calchas says, in order that the army may be able to proceed.
CLY. Whither? Wretched me, and wretched she whom her father is about to slay?
OLD M. To the house of Dardanus, that Menelaus may recover Helen.
CLY. To the destruction, then, of Iphigenia, was the return of Helen foredoomed?
OLD M. Thou hast the whole story. Her father is going to offer thy daughter to Diana.
CLY. What! what pretext had the marriage, that brought me from home?
OLD M. That thou rejoicing mightest bring thy child, as if about to wed her to Achilles.
CLY. O daughter, both thou and thy mother are come to meet with destruction.
OLD M. Ye twain are suffering sad things, and dreadful things hath Agamemnon dared.
CLY. I wretched am undone, and my eyes no longer restrain the tear.
OLD M. For bitter ’tis to mourn, deprived of one’s children.
CLY. But whence, old man, sayest thou that thou hast learned and knowest these things?
OLD M. I went to bear a letter to thee, in reference to what was before written.
CLY. Not allowing, or bidding me to bring my child, that she might die?
OLD M. [It was] that you should not bring her, for your husband then thought well.
CLY. And how was it then, that, bearing the letter, thou gavest it not to me?
OLD M. Menelaus, who is the cause of these evils, took it from me.
CLY. O child of Nereus’ daughter, O son of Peleus, dost hear these things?
ACH. I hear that thou art wretched, and I do not bear my part indifferently.
CLY. They will slay my child, having deceived her with thy nuptials.
ACH. I also blame thy husband, nor do I bear it lightly.
CLY. I will not be ashamed to fall down at thy knee, mortal, to one born of a Goddess. For wherefore should I make a show of pride? Or what should I study more than my children? But, O son of the Goddess, aid me in my unhappiness, and her who is called thy wife, vainly indeed, but nevertheless, having decked her out, I led her as if to be married, but now I lead her to sacrifice, and reproach will come upon thee, who gavest no aid. For though thou wast not yoked in nuptials, at least thou wast called the beloved husband of the hapless virgin. By thy beard, by thy right hand, by thy mother [I beseech] thee, for thy name hath undone me, to whom thou shouldst needs give assistance. I have no other altar to fly to, but thy knee, nor is any friend near me, but thou hearest the cruel and all-daring conduct of Agamemnon. But I a woman, as thou seest, have come to a naval host, uncontrolled, and bold for mischief, but useful, when they are willing. But if thou wilt venture to stretch thine hand in my behalf, we are saved, but if not, we are not saved.
CHOR. A terrible thing it is to be a mother, and it bears a great endearment, and one common to all, so as to toil on behalf of their children.
ACH. My mind is high-lifted in its thoughts, and knows both how to grieve [moderately] in troubles, and to rejoice moderately in high prosperity. For the discreet amo
ng mortals are such as pass through life correctly with wisdom. Now there are certain cases where it is pleasant not to be too wise, and also where it is useful to possess wisdom. But I, being nurtured [in the dwelling] of a most pious man, Chiron, have learned to possess a candid disposition. And I will obey the Atrides, if indeed they order well, but when not well, I obey not. But here in Troy showing a free nature I will glorify Mars with the spear, as far as I can. But, O thou who hast suffered wretchedly at the hands of those dearest, in whatever can be done by a youth, I, showing so much pity, will set thee right, and thy daughter, having been called my bride, shall never be sacrificed by her father, for I will not furnish thy husband with my person to weave stratagems upon. For my name, even if he lift not up the sword, will slay thy daughter, but thy husband is the cause. But my body is no longer pure, if on my account, and because of my marriage, there perish a virgin who has gone through sad and unbearable troubles, and has been marvelously and undeservedly ill treated. I were the worst man among the Greeks, I were of naught (but Menelaus would be among men), not as born from Peleus, but from some fiend, if my name acts the murderer for thy husband. By Nereus, nurtured in the damp waves, the father of Thetis, who begat me, king Agamemnon shall not lay hands on thy daughter, not so much as with a little finger, so as to touch her garments. I’ faith, Sipylus, a fortress of barbarians, whence the [royal] generals trace their descent, shall be deemed a city, but the name of Phthia shall nowhere be named. And the seer Calchas will to his cost consecrate the sacrificial cakes and lustral waters. (But what man is a prophet?) who tells a few things true, (but many falsely,) when he has made a hit, but when he fails, is undone. These words are not spoken for the sake of my wedding, (ten thousand girls are hunting after alliance with me,) but [because] king Agamemnon has been guilty of insult toward me. But it behooved him to ask [the use of] my name from me, as an enticement for his daughter, and Clytæmnestra would have been most readily persuaded to give her daughter to me as a husband. And I would have given her up to the Greeks, if on this account their passage to Troy had been impeded: I would not have refused to augment the common interest of those with whom I set out on the expedition. But now I am held as of no account by the generals, and it is a matter of indifference whether I benefit them or not. Soon shall my sword witness, which, before death came against the Phrygians, I stained with spots of blood, whether any one shall take thy daughter from me. But keep quiet, I have appeared to thee as a most mighty God, though not [a God,] but nevertheless I will be such.
