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.[57]
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,[58] 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.[59]
AG. Alas! In vain have I toiled,[60] 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.[61] But it behooves a wise man either to support a useful and good wife in his house or not to marry at all.[62]
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,[63] 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,[64] 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[65] 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:[66] 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,[67] 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.[68]
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.
ACH. 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[69] 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,[70] 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,[71] and knows both how to grieve [moderately] in troubles, and to rejoice moderately in high prosperity. For the discreet among 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.[72] 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[73] 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,[74] 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.
CHOR. O son of Peleus, thou hast spoken both worthily of thyself, and of the marine deity, hallowed Goddess.
CLY. Alas! how can I praise thee neither too much in words, nor, being deficient in this respect, [not] lose thy favor? For in a certain wise the praised dislike their praisers, if they praise too much. But I am ashamed at alleging pitiable words, being troubled in myself, while thou art not diseased with my ills. But in fact the good man has some reason, even though he be unconnected with them, for assisting the unfortunate. But pity us, for we have suffered pitiably; I, who, in the first place, thinking to have thee for a kinsman, cherished a vain hope.—Moreover, my child, by dying, might perchance become an omen to thy future bridals,[75] which thou must needs avoid. But well didst thou speak both first and last, for, if thou art willing, my child will be saved. Dost wish that she embrace thy knee as a suppliant? Such conduct is not virgin-like, but if thou wilt, she shall come, with her noble face suffused with modesty. Or shall I obtain these things from thee, without her presence?
ACH. Let her remain within doors, for with dignity she preserves her dignity.
CLY. Yet one must needs have modesty [only] as far as circumstances allow.
ACH. Do thou neither bring forth thy daughter into my sight, lady, not let us fall into reproach for inconsiderate conduct, for our assembled army, being idle from home occupations, loves evil and slanderous talk. But at all events you will accomplish the same, whether you come to me as a suppliant, or do not supplicate, for a mighty contest awaits me, to release you from these evils. Wherefore, having heard one thing, be persuaded that I will not speak falsely. But if I speak falsely, and vainly amuse you, may I perish; but may I not perish, if I preserve the virgin.
CLY. Mayest thou be blest, ever assisting the unhappy.
ACH. Hear me then, that the matter may be well.
CLY. What is this thou sayest? for one must listen to thee.
ACH. Let us again persuade her father to be wiser.
CLY. He is a coward, and fears the army too much.
ACH. But words can conquer words.
CLY. Chilly is the hope, but tell me what I must do.
ACH. Beseech him first not to slay his child, but if he oppose this, you must come to me. For if he will be persuaded what you wish, there is no occasion for my efforts, for this very [consent] contains her safety. And I also shall appear in a better light with my friend, and the army will not blame me, if I transact matters by discretion rather than force. And if this turn out well, these things, even without my help, may turn out satisfactorily to thy friends and thyself.[76]
CLY. How wisely hast thou spoken! But what thou sayest must be done. But if I do not obtain what I seek, where shall I again see thee? Where must I wretched woman, coming, find thee an assistant in my troubles?
ACH. We guards will watch thee when there is occasion, lest any one behold thee going in agitation through the host of the Greeks. But do not shame thy ancestral home, for Tyndarus is not worthy of an evil reputation, seeing he is great among the Greeks.
CLY. These things shall be. Command; it is meet that I obey thee. But if there are Gods, you, being a just man, will receive a good reward; but if not, why should one toil?
CHOR. What was that nuptial song that raised[77] its strains on the Libyan reed, and with the dance-loving lyre, and the reedy syrinx, when o'er Pelion at the feast of the Gods the fair-haired muses, striking their feet with golden sandals against the ground, came to the wedding of Peleus, celebrating with melodious sounds Thetis, and the son of Æacus, on the mountains of the Centaurs, through the Palian wood.
But the Dardan,[78] [Phrygian Ganymede,] dear delight of Jove's bed, poured out the nectar in the golden depths of the goblets, and along the white sands the fifty daughters of Nereus, entwining in circles, adorned the nuptials of Nereus with the dance. But with darts of fir, and crowns of grass, the horse-mounted troop of the Centaurs came to the banquet of the Gods and the cup of Bacchus. And the Thessalian girls shouted loud,[79] "O daughter of Nereus," and the prophet Phœbus, and Chiron, skilled in letters, declared, "Thou shalt bring forth a mighty light, who shall come to the [Trojan] land with Myrmidons armed with spear and shield, to burn the renowned city of Priam, around his body armed with a covering of golden arms wrought by Vulcan, having them as a gift from his Goddess Thetis, who begat him blessed." Then the deities celebrated the nuptials of the noble daughter of Nereus first,[80] and of Peleus. But thee, [O Iphigenia,] they will crown on the head with flowery garlands, like as a pure spotted heifer from a rocky cave, making bloody the mortal throat [of one] not trained up with the pipe, nor amidst the songs of herdsmen, but as a bride[81] prepared by thy mother for some one of the Argives. Where has the face of shame, or virtue any power to prevail? Since impiety indeed has influence, but virtue is left behind and disregarded by mortals, and lawlessness governs law, and it is a common struggle for mortals, lest any envy of the Gods befall.
CLY. I have come out of the house to seek for my husband, who has been absent, and has quitted the house a long time. But my hapless daughter is in tears, casting forth many a change of complaint, having heard the death her father devises for her. But I was mindful of Agamemnon who is now coming hither,[82] who will quickly be detected doing evil deeds against his own children.
AG. Daughter of Leda, opportunely have I found you without the house, that I may tell thee, apart from the virgin, words which it is not meet for those to hear who are about to marry.
CLY. And what is it, on which your convenience lays hold?
AG. Send forth thy daughter from the house with her father, since the lustral waters are ready prepared, and the salt-cakes to scatter with the hands upon the purifying flame, and heifers, which needs must be slain in honor of the Goddess Diana before the marriage solemnities, a shedding of black gore.
CLY. In words, indeed, thou speakest well, but for thy deeds, I know not how I may say thou speakest well. But come without, O daughter, for thou knowest all that thy father meditates, and beneath thy robes bring the child Orestes, thy brother. See, she is here present to obey thee. But the rest I will speak on her behalf and mine.
AG. Child, why weepest thou, and no longer beholdest me cheerfully, but fixing thy face upon the ground, keepest thy vest before it?
CLY. Alas! What commencement of my sorrows shall I take? For I may use them all as first, [both last, and middle throughout.[83]]
AG. But what is it? How all of you are come to one point with me, bearing disturbed and alarmed countenances.
CLY. Wilt thou answer candidly, husband, if I ask thee?
AG. There needs no admonition: I would fain be questioned.
CLY. Art thou going to slay thy child and mine?
AG. Ah! wretched things dost thou say, and thinkest what thou shouldst not.
CLY. Keep quiet, and first in turn answer me that.
AG. But if thou askest likely things, thou wilt hear likely.
CLY. I ask no other things, nor do thou answer me others.
AG. O revered destiny, and fate, and fortune mine!
CLY. Ay, and mine too, and this child's, one of three unfortunates!
AG. But in what art thou wronged?
CLY. Dost thou ask me this? This thy wit hath no wit.[84]
AG. I am undone. My secret plans are betrayed.
CLY. I know and have learned all that you are about to do to me, and the very fact of thy silence, and of thy groaning much, is a proof that you confess it. Do not take the trouble to say any thing.
AG. Behold, I am silent: for what need is there that, falsely speaking, I add shamelessness to misfortune?
CLY. Listen, then, for I will unfold my story, and will no longer make use of riddles away from the purpose. In the first place, that I may first reproach thee with this—thou didst wed me unwilling, and obtain me by force, having slain Tantalus, my former husband, and having dashed[85] my infant living to the ground, having torn him by force from my breast. And the twin sons of Jove, my brothers, glorying in their steeds, made war [against thee] but my old father Tyndarus saved you, when you had become a suppliant, and thou again didst possess me as a wife. When I, being reconciled to thee in respect to thy person and home, thou wilt bear witness how blameless a wife I was, both modest in respect to affection, and enriching thy house, so that thou both going within and without thy doors wast blessed. And 'tis a rare prize for a man to obtain such a wife, but there is no lack of getting a bad spouse. And I bear thee this son, besides three virgins, of one of whom thou art cruelly going to deprive me. And if any one ask thee on what account thou wilt slay her, say, what will you answer? or must I needs make your plea, "that Menelaus may obtain Helen?" A pretty custom, forsooth, that children must pay the price of a bad woman. We gain the most hateful things at the hand of those dearest. Come, if thou wilt set out, leaving me at home, and then wilt be a long time absent, what sort of feelings dost think I shall experience, when I behold every seat empty of this child's presence, and every virgin chamber empty, but myself sit in tears alone, ever mourning her [in such strains as these:] "My child, thy father, who begat thee, hath destroyed thee, himself, no other, the slayer, by no other hand, leaving such a reward for [my care of] the house."[86] Since there wants but a little reason for me and my remaining daughters to give thee such a reception as you deserve to receive. Do not, by the Gods, either compel me to act evilly toward thee, nor do thou thyself be so. Ah well! thou wilt sacrifice thy daughter—what prayers wilt thou then utter? What good thing wilt thou crave for thyself, slaying thy child? An evil return, seeing, forsooth, thou hast disgracefully set out from home. But is it right that I should pray for thee any good thing? Verily we must believe the Gods are senseless, if we feel well disposed to murderers. But wilt thou, returning to Argos, embrace thy children? But 'tis not lawful for thee. Will any of your children look upon you, if thou offerest one of them for slaughter? Thus far have I proceeded in my argument. What! does it only behoove thee to carry about thy sceptre and marshal the army?—whose duty it were to speak a just speech among the Greeks: "Do ye desire, O Greeks, to sail against the land of the Phrygians? Cast lots, whose daughter needs must die"—for this would be on equal terms, but not that you should give thy daughter to the Greeks as a chosen victim. Or Menelaus, whose affair it was, ought to slay Hermione for her mother's sake. But now I, having cherished thy married life, shall be bereaved of my child, but she who has sinned, bearing her daughter under her care to Sparta, will be blest. As to these things, answer me if I say aught not rightly, but if I have spoken well, do not then slay thy child and mine, and thou wilt be wise.
CHOR. Be persuaded, Agamemnon, for 'tis right to join in saving one's children. No one of mortals will gainsay this.
IPH. If, O father, I possessed the eloquence of Orpheus, that I might charm by persuasion, so that rocks should follow me, and that I might soften whom I would by my words, to this would I have resorted. But now I will offer tears as all my skill, for these I can. And, as a suppliant bough, I press against thy knees my body, which this [my mother] bore thee, [beseeching] that thou slay me not before my time, for sweet it is to behold the light, nor do thou compel me to visit the places beneath the earth. And I first[87] hailed thee sire, and thou [didst first call] me daughter, and first drawing nigh to thy knees, I gave and in turn received sweet tokens of affection. And such, were thy words: "My daughter, shall I some time behold thee prospering in a husband's home, living and flourishing worthily of me?" And mine in turn ran thus, as I hung about thy beard, which now with my hand I embrace: "But how shall I [treat] thee? Shall I receive thee when an old man, O father, with the hearty reception of my house, repaying thee the careful nurture of my youth?" Of such words have remembrance, but thou hast forgotten them, and fain wouldst slay me. Do not, [I beseech you] by Pelops and by thy father Atreus, and this my mother, who having before brought me forth with throes, now suffers this second throe. What have I to do with the marriage of Paris and Helen? Whence came he, father, for my destruction? Look upon me; give me one look, one kiss, that this memorial of thee at least I, dying, may possess, if thou wilt not be persuaded by my words. Brother, thou art but a little helpmate to those dear, yet weep with me, beseech thy sire that thy sister die not. Even in babes there is wont to be some sense of evil. Behold, O father, he silently implores thee. But respect my prayer, and have pity on my years. Yea, by thy beard we, two dear ones, implore thee; the one is yet a nursling, but the other grown up. In one brief saying I will overcome all arguments. This light of heaven is sweetest of things for men to behold, but that below is naught; and mad is he who seeks to die. To live dishonorably is better than to die gloriously.
CHOR. O wretched Helen, through thee and thy nuptials there is come a contest for the Atrides and their children.
AG. I can understand what merits pity, and what not; and I love my children, for [otherwise] I were mad. And dreadful 'tis for me[88] to dare these things, O woman, and dreadful not to do so—for so I must needs act. Thou seest how great is this naval host, and how many are the chieftains of brazen arms among the Greeks, to whom there is not a power of arriving at the towers of Troy, unless I sacrifice you, as the seer Calchas says, nor can we take the renowned plain of Troy. But a certain passion has maddened the army of the Greeks, to sail as quickly as possible upon the land of the barbarians, and to put a stop to the rapes of Grecian wives. And they will slay my daughters at Argos, and you, and me, if I break through the commands of the Goddess. It is not Menelaus who has enslaved me, O daughter, nor have I followed his device, but Greece, for whom I, will or nill, must needs offer thee. And I am inferior on this head. For it behooves her, [Helen,] as far as thou, O daughter, art concerned, to be free, nor for us, being Greeks, to be plundered perforce of our wives by barbarians.
CLY. O child! O ye stranger women! O wretched me for thy death! Thy father flees from thee, giving thee up to Hades.
IPH. Alas for me! mother, mother. The same song suits both of us on account of our fortunes, and no more to me is the light, nor this bright beam of the sun. Alas! alas! thou snow-smitten wood of Troy, and mountains of Ida, where once on a time Priam exposed a tender infant, having separated him from his mother, that he might meet with deadly fate, Paris, who was styled Idæan, Idæan [Paris] in the city of the Phrygians. Would that the herdsman Paris, who was nurtured in care of steers, had ne'er dwelt near the white stream, where are the fountains of the Nymphs, and the meadow flourishing with blooming flowers, and roseate flowers and hyacinths for Goddesses to cull. Where once on a time came Pallas, and artful Venus, and Juno, and Hermes, the messenger of Jove; Venus indeed, vaunting herself in charms, and Pallas in the spear, and Juno in the royal nuptials of king Jove, [these came] to a hateful judgment and strife concerning beauty; but my death, my death, O virgins, bearing glory indeed to the Greeks, Diana hath received as first-fruits [of the expedition] against Troy.[89] But he that begot me wretched, O mother, O mother, has departed, leaving me deserted. O hapless me! having †beheld† bitter, bitter, ill-omened Helen, I am slain, I perish, by the impious slaughter of an impious sire. Would[90] for me that Aulis had never received the poops of the brazen-beaked ships into these ports, the fleet destined for Troy, nor that Jove had breathed an adverse wind over Euripus, softening one breeze so that some mortals might rejoice in their [expanded] sails, but to others a pain, to others difficulty, to some to set sail, to others to furl their sails, but to others to tarry. In truth the race of mortals is full of troubles, is full of troubles, and it necessarily befalls men to find some misfortune. Alas! alas! thou daughter of Tyndarus, who hast brought many sufferings, and many griefs upon the Greeks.
CHOR. I indeed pity you having met with an evil calamity, such as thou never shouldst have met with.
IPH. O mother, to whom I owe my birth, I behold a crowd of men near.
CLY. Ay, the son of the Goddess, my child, for whom thou camest hither.
IPH. Open the house, ye servants, that I may hide myself.
CLY. But why dost thou fly hence, my child?
IPH. I am ashamed to behold this Achilles.
CLY. On what account?
IPH. The unfortunate turn-out of my nuptials shames me.
CLY. Thou art not in a state to give way to delicacy in the present circumstances. But do thou remain, there is no use for punctilio, if we can [but save your life.]
ACH. O hapless lady, daughter of Leda.
CLY. Thou sayest not falsely.
ACH. Terrible things are cried out among the Greeks.
CLY. What cry? tell me.
ACH. Concerning thy child.
CLY. Thou speakest a word of ill omen.
ACH. That it is necessary to slay her.
CLY. Does no one speak the contrary to this?
ACH. Ay, I myself have got into trouble.
CLY. Into what [trouble,] O friend?
ACH. Of having my body stoned with stones.
CLY. What, in trying to save my daughter!
ACH. This very thing.
CLY. And who would have dared to touch thy person?
ACH. All the Greeks.
CLY. And was not the host of the Myrmidons at hand for thee?
ACH. That was the first that showed enmity.
CLY. Then are we utterly undone, my daughter.
ACH. For they railed at me as overcome by a betrothed—
CLY. And what didst thou reply?
ACH. That they should not slay my intended bride.
CLY. For so 'twas right.
ACH. [She] whom her father had promised me.
CLY. Ay, and had sent for from Argos.
ACH. But I was worsted by the outcry.
CLY. For the multitude is a terrible evil.
ACH. But nevertheless I will aid thee.
CLY. And wilt thou, being one, fight with many?
ACH. Dost see these men bearing [my] arms?
CLY. Mayest thou gain by thy good intentions.
ACH. But I will gain.
CLY. Then my child will not be slain?
ACH. Not, at least, with my consent.
CLY. And will any one come to lay hands on the girl?
ACH. Ay, a host of them, but Ulysses will conduct her.
CLY. Will it be the descendant of Sisyphus?
ACH. The very man.
CLY. Doing it of his own accord, or appointed by the army?
ACH. Chosen willingly.
CLY. A wicked choice forsooth, to commit slaughter!
ACH. But I will restrain him.
CLY. But will he lead her unwillingly, having seized her?
ACH. Ay, by her auburn locks.
CLY. But what must I then do?
ACH. Keep hold of your daughter.
CLY. As far as this goes she shall not be slain.
ACH. But it will come to this at all events.[91]
IPH. Mother, do thou hear my words, for I perceive that thou art vainly wrathful with thy husband, but it is not easy for us to struggle with things [almost] impossible. It is meet therefore to praise our friend for his willingness, but it behooves thee also to see that you be not an object of reproach to the army, and we profit nothing more, and he meet with calamity. But hear me, mother, thinking upon what has entered my mind. I have determined to die, and this I would fain do gloriously, I mean, by dismissing all ignoble thoughts. Come hither, mother, consider with me how well I speak. Greece, the greatest of cities, is now all looking upon me, and there rests in me both the passage of the ships and the destruction of Troy, and, for the women hereafter, if the barbarians do them aught of harm, to allow them no longer to carry them off from prosperous Greece, having avenged the destruction of Helen, whom Paris bore away.[92] All these things I dying shall redeem, and my renown, for that I have freed Greece, will be blessed. Moreover, it is not right that I should be too fond of life; for thou hast brought me forth for the common good of Greece, not for thyself only. But shall ten thousand men armed with bucklers, and ten thousand, oars in hand, their country being injured, dare to do some deed against the foes, and perish on behalf of Greece, while my life, being but one, shall hinder all these things? What manner of justice is this? Have we a word to answer? And let me come to this point: it is not meet that this man should come to strife with all the Greeks for the sake of a woman, nor lose his life. And one man, forsooth, is better than ten thousand women, that he should behold the light. But if Diana hath wished to receive my body, shall I, being mortal, become an opponent to the Goddess! But it can not be. I give my body for Greece. Sacrifice it, and sack Troy. For this for a long time will be my memorial, and this my children, my wedding, and my glory. But it is meet that Greeks should rule over barbarians, O mother, but not barbarians over Greeks, for the one is slavish, but the others are free.
CHOR. Thy part, indeed, O virgin, is glorious; but the work of fortune and of the Gods sickens.
ACH. Daughter of Agamemnon, some one of the Gods destined me to happiness, if I obtained thee as a wife, and I envy Greece on thy account, and thee on account of Greece. For well hast thou spoken this, and worthily of the country, for, ceasing to strive with the deity, who is more powerful than thou art, thou hast considered what is good and useful. But still more does a desire of thy union enter my mind, when I look to thy nature, for thou art noble. But consider, for I wish to benefit you, and to receive you to my home, and, Thetis be my witness, I am grieved if I shall not save you, coming to conflict with the Greeks. Consider: death is a terrible ill.
IPH. I speak these words, no others, with due foresight. Enough is the daughter of Tyndarus to have caused contests and slaughter of men through her person: but do not thou, O stranger, die in my behalf, nor slay any one. But let me preserve Greece, if I am able.
ACH. O best of spirits, I have naught further to answer thee, since it seems thus to thee, for thou hast noble thoughts; for wherefore should not one tell the truth? But nevertheless thou mayest perchance repent these things. In order, therefore, that thou mayest all that lies in my power, I will go and place these my arms near the altar, as I will not allow you to die, but hinder it. And thou too wilt perhaps be of my opinion, when thou seest the sword nigh to thy neck. I will not allow thee to die through thy wild determination, but going with these mine arms to the temple of the Goddess, I will await thy presence there.
IPH. Mother, why dost thou silently bedew thine eyes with tears?
CLY. I wretched have a reason, so as to be pained at heart.
IPH. Cease; do not daunt me, but obey me in this.
CLY. Speak, for thou shalt not be wronged at my hands, my child.
IPH. Neither then do thou cut off the locks of thine hair, [nor put on black garments around thy body.]
CLY. Wherefore sayest thou this, my child? Having lost thee—
IPH. Not you indeed—I am saved, and thou wilt be glorious as far as I am concerned.
CLY. How sayest thou? Must I not bemoan thy life?
IPH. Not in the least, since no tomb will be upraised for me.
CLY. Why, what then is death? Is not a tomb customary?[93]
IPH. The altar of the Goddess, daughter of Jove, will be my memorial.
CLY. But, O child, I will obey thee, for thou speakest well.
IPH. Ay, as prospering like the benefactress of Greece.
CLY. What then shall I tell thy sisters?
IPH. Neither do thou clothe them in black garments.
CLY. But shall I speak any kind message from thee to the virgins?
IPH. Ay, [bid them] fare well, and do thou, for my sake, train up this [boy] Orestes to be a man.
CLY. Embrace him, beholding him for the last time.
IPH. O dearest one, thou hast assisted thy friends to the utmost in thy power.
CLY. Can I, by doing any thing in Argos, do thee a pleasure?
IPH. Hate not my father, yes, thy husband.
CLY. He needs shall go through terrible trials on thy account.
IPH. Unwillingly he hath undone me on behalf of the land of Greece.
CLY. But ungenerously, by craft, and not in a manner worthy of Atreus.
IPH. Who will come and lead me, before I am torn away by the hair?[94]
CLY. I will go with thee.
IPH. Not you indeed, thou sayest not well.
CLY. Ay [but I will,] clinging to thy garments.
IPH. Be persuaded by me, mother. Remain, for this is more fitting both for me and thee. But let some one of these my father's followers conduct me to the meadow of Diana, where I may be sacrificed.
CLY. O child, thou art going.
IPH. Ay, and I shall ne'er return.
CLY. Leaving thy mother—
IPH. As thou seest, though, not worthily.
CLY. Hold! Do not leave me.
IPH. I do not suffer thee to shed tears. But, ye maidens, raise aloft the pæan for my sad hap, [celebrate] Diana, the daughter of Jove,[95] and let the joyful strain go forth to the Greeks. And let some one make ready the baskets, and let flame burn with the purifying cakes, and let my father serve the altar with his right hand, seeing I am going to bestow upon the Greeks safety that produces victory.[96]
Conduct me, the conqueror of the cities of Troy and of the Phrygians. Surround[97] me with crowns, bring them hither. Here is my hair to crown. And [bear hither] the lustral fountains.[98] Encircle [with dances] around the temple and the altar, Diana, queen Diana, the blessed, since by my blood and offering I will wash out her oracles, if it needs must be so. O revered, revered mother, thus † indeed † will we [now] afford thee our tears, for it is not fitting during the sacred rites. O damsels, join in singing Diana, who dwells opposite Chalcis, where the warlike ships have been eager [to set out,] being detained in the narrow harbors of Aulis here through my name.[99] Alas! O my mother-land of Pelasgia, and my Mycenian handmaids.
CHOR. Dost thou call upon the city of Perseus, the work of the Cyclopean hands?
IPH. Thou hast nurtured me for a glory to Greece, and I will not refuse to die.
CHOR. For renown will not fail thee.
IPH. Alas! alas! lamp-bearing day, and thou too, beam of Jove, another, another life and state shall we dwell in. Farewell for me, beloved light!
CHOR. Alas! alas! Behold[100] the destroyer of the cities of Troy and of the Phrygians, wending her way, decked as to her head with garlands and with lustral streams, to the altar of the sanguinary Goddess, about to stream with drops of gore, being stricken on her fair neck. Fair dewy streams, and lustral waters from ancestral sources[101] await thee, and the host of the Greeks eager to reach Troy. But let us celebrate Diana, the daughter of Jove, queen of the Gods, as upon a prosperous occasion. O hallowed one, that rejoicest in human sacrifices, send the army of the Greeks into the land of the Phrygians, and the territory of deceitful Troy, and grant that by Grecian spears Agamemnon may place a most glorious crown upon his head, a glory ever to be remembered.
[Enter a MESSENGER.[102]]
MESS. O daughter of Tyndarus, Clytæmnestra, come without the house, that thou mayest hear my words.
CLY. Hearing thy voice, I wretched came hither, terrified and astounded with fear, lest thou shouldst be come, bearing some new calamity to me in addition to the present one.
MESS. Concerning thy daughter, then, I wish to tell thee marvelous and fearful things.
CLY. Then delay not, but speak as quickly as possible.
MESS. But, my dear mistress, thou shalt learn every thing clearly, and I will speak from the very commencement, unless my memory, in something failing, deceive my tongue. For when we came to the inclosure and flowery meads of Diana, the daughter of Jove, where there was an assembly of the army of the Greeks, leading thy daughter, the host of the Greeks was straightway convened. But when king Agamemnon beheld the girl wending her way to the grove for slaughter, he groaned aloud, and turning back his head, he shed tears, placing his garments[103] before his eyes. But she, standing near him that begot her, spake thus: "O father, I am here for thee, and I willing give my body on behalf of my country, and of the whole land of Greece, that, leading it to the altar of the Goddess, they may sacrifice it, since this is ordained. And, as far as I am concerned, may ye be fortunate, and obtain the gift of victory, and reach your native land. Furthermore, let no one of the Greeks lay hands on me, for with a stout heart I will present my neck in silence." Thus much she spoke, and every one marveled on hearing the courage and valor of the virgin. But Talthybius, whose office this was, standing in the midst, proclaimed good-omened silence to the people. And the seer Calchas placed in a golden canister a sharp knife,[104] which he had drawn out,† within its case,† and crowned the head of the girl. But the son of Peleus ran around the altar of the Goddess, taking the canister and lustral waters at the same time. And he said: "O Diana, beast-slaying daughter of Jove, that revolvest thy brilliant light by night, receive this offering which we bestow on thee, [we] the army of the Greeks, and king Agamemnon, the pure blood from a fair virgin's neck; and grant that the sail may be without injury to our ships, and that we may take the towers of Troy by the spear." But the Atrides and all the army stood looking on the ground, and the priest, taking the knife, prayed, and viewed her neck, that he might find a place to strike. And no little pity entered my mind, and I stood with eyes cast down, but suddenly there was a marvel to behold. For every one could clearly perceive the sound of the blow, but beheld not the virgin, where on earth she had vanished. But the priest exclaimed, and the whole army shouted, beholding an unexpected prodigy from some one of the Gods, of which, though seen, they had scarcely belief. For a stag lay panting on the ground, of mighty size to see and beautiful in appearance, with whose blood the altar of the Goddess was abundantly wetted. And upon this Calchas (think with what joy!) thus spake: "O leaders of this common host of the Greeks, behold this victim which the Goddess hath brought to her altar, a mountain-roaming stag. This she prefers greatly to the virgin, lest her altar should be denied with generous blood. And she hath willingly received this, and grants us a prosperous sail, and attack upon Troy. Upon this do every sailor take good courage, and go to his ships, since on this day it behooves us, quitting the hollow recesses of Aulis, to pass over the Ægean wave." But when the whole victim was reduced to ashes, he prayed what was meet, that the army might obtain a passage. And Agamemnon sends me to tell thee this, and to say what a fortune he hath met with from the Gods, and hath obtained unwaning glory through Greece. But I speak, having been present, and witnessing the matter. Thy child has evidently flown to the Gods; away then with grief, and cease wrath against your husband. But the will of the Gods is unforeseen by mortals, and them they love, they save. For this day hath beheld thy daughter dying and living [in turn.]
CHOR. How delighted am I at hearing this from the messenger; but he says that thy daughter living abides among the Gods.
CLY. O daughter, of whom of the Gods art thou the theft? How shall I address thee? What shall I say that these words do not offer me a vain comfort, that I may cease from my mournful grief on thy account?
CHOR. And truly king Agamemnon draws hither, having this same story to tell thee.
[Enter AGAMEMNON.]
AG. Lady, as far as thy daughter is concerned, we may be happy, for she really possesses a companionship with the Gods. But it behooves thee, taking this young child [Orestes,] to go home, for the army is looking toward setting sail. And fare thee well, long hence will be my addresses to thee from Troy, and may it be well with thee.
CHOR. Atrides, rejoicing go thou to the land of the Phrygians, and rejoicing return, having obtained for me most glorious spoils from Troy.