[1] From the answer of the old man, Porson's conjecture, σπευδε, seems very probable.
[2] See Hermann's note. The passage has been thus rendered by Ennius:
AG. "Quid nocti" videtur in altisono
Cœli clupeo?
SEN. Temo superat stellas, cogens
Sublime etiam atque etiam noctis
Itiner.
See Scaliger on Varr. de L.L. vi. p.143, and on Festus s.v. Septemtriones. All the editors have overlooked the following passage of Apuleius de Deo Socr. p. 42, ed. Elm. "Suspicientes in hoc perfectissimo mundi, ut ait Ennius, clypeo," whence, as I have already observed in my notes on the passage, there is little doubt that Ennius wrote "in altisono mundi clypeo," of which cœli was a gloss, naturally introduced by those who were ignorant of the use of mundus in the same sense. The same error has taken place in some of the MSS. of Virg. Georg. i. 5, 6. Compare the commentators on Pompon. Mela. i. 1, ed. Gronov.
[3] Such seems the force of επι πασιν αγαθοις. The Cambridge editor aptly compares Hipp. 461. χρην σ' επι ‛ρητοις αρα Πατερα φυτευειν.
[4] The συννυμφοκομος was probably a kind of gentleman usher, but we have no correlative either to the custom or the word.
[5] Hermann rightly regards this as a hendiadys.
[6] δρομωι for μορωι is Markland's, and, doubtless, the correct, reading. μονος is merely a correction of the Aldine edition.
[7] But read τας—δελτους with the Cambridge editor, = "in relation to my former dispatches."
[8] ταν should probably be erased before κολπωδη, with the Cambridge editor. He remarks, "the sea-port, although separated from the island by the narrow strait of Euripus, is styled its wing." On the metrical difficulties and corruptions throughout this chorus, I must refer the reader to the same critic.
[9] But λεκτρον, uxorem, is better, with ed. Camb.
[10] It is impossible to get a satisfactory sense as these lines now stand. I have translated εξορμα. There seems to be a lacuna. The following are the readings of the Camb. ed. εν γαρ π. αντησηις, παλιν εξ. ς. χαλινους, επι κυκλωπων νιν ‛ιεις θυμ.
[11] But αγχιαλον is better, with ed. Camb. from the Homeric χαλκιδα τ' αγχιαλον. He remarks that this word, in tragedy, is always the epithet of a place.
[12] i.e. to exact satisfaction for her abduction.
[13] i.e. the tents containing the armed soldiers.
[14] ‛ηδομενους refers both to Πρωτεσιλαον and Παλαμηδεα, divided by the schema Alcmanicum. See Markland.
[15] Cf. Homer, Il. Β. 763 sqq.
[16] Cf. Monk on Hippol. 1229. I have translated συριγγας according to the figure of a part for the whole. The whole of the remainder of this chorus has been condemned as spurious by the Cambridge editor. See his remarks, p. 219 sqq.
[17] Can θετον refer to αγαλμα understood?
[18] This part of the chorus is hopeless, as it is evidently imperfect. See Herm.
[19] The Cambridge editor would assign this line to Menelaus.
[20] I read ευ κεκομψευσαι, with Ruhnken. The Cambridge editor also reads πονηρα, which is better suited to the style of Euripides.
[21] The same scholar has anticipated my conjecture, σαφης for σαφες.
[22] Compare the similar conduct of Pausanias in Thucyd. i. 130, Dejoces in Herodot. i., with Livy, iii. 36, and Apul. de Deo Socr. p. 44, ed. Elm.
[23] I read το Πριαμου with Elmsley. See the Camb. ed.
[24] With the Cambridge editor I have restored the old reading εχοντες.
[25] But see ed. Camb.
[26] αυ is a better reading. See Markland and ed. Camb.
[27] There is little hope of this passage, unless we adopt the readings of the Cambridge editor, ‛ους λαβων στρατευμ'. ‛ετοιμοι δ' εισι. The next line was lost, but has been restored from Theophilus ad Autol. p. 258, and Stob. xxviii. p. 128, Grot.
[28] Cf. Soph. Antig. 523. ουτοι συνεχθειν, αλλα συμφιλειν εφυν.
[29] Dindorf condemns the whole of this speech of the messenger, as well as the two following lines. Few will perhaps be disposed to follow him, although the awkwardness of the passage may be admitted. Hermann considers that the hasty entrance of the messenger is signified by his commencing with half a line.
[30] There seems an intended allusion to the double sense of προτελεια, both as a marriage and sacrificial rite. See the Cambridge editor, and my note on Æsch. Agam. p. 102, n. 2, ed. Bohn.
[31] "Auspicare canistra, id quod proximum est." MUSGR.
[32] I think this is the meaning implied by νυμφευσουσα, as in vs. 885. ‛ιν' αγαγοις χαιρουσ' Αχιλλει παιδα νυμφευσουσα σην. Alcest. 317. ου γαρ σε μητηρ ουτε νυμφευσει ποτε. The word seems to refer to the whole business of a mamma on this important occasion.
[33] The Cambridge editor on vs. 439, p. 109, well observes, "the actual arrival of Iphigenia having convinced Menelaus that her sacrifice could not any longer be avoided, he bethinks him of removing from his brother's mind the impression produced by their recent altercation; and knowing his open and unsuspicious temper, he feels that he may safely adopt a false position, and deprecate that of which he was at the same time most earnestly desirous."
[34] So Markland, but Hermann and the Cambridge editor prefer the old reading μετεστι σοι.
[35] This and the two following lines are condemned by Dindorf.
[36] Bœckh, Dindorf, and the Cambridge editor rightly explode these three lines, which are not even correct Greek.
[37] λησομεν, latebo faciens.
[38] παρα for παρον, ed. Camb.
[39] i.e. by the gift of Venus. For the sense, compare Hippol. 443.
[40] Read διαφοροι δε τροποι with Monk, and ορθως with Musgrave.
[41] But παιδευομενων is better, with ed. Camb.
[42] I have partly followed Markland, partly Matthiæ, in rendering this awkward passage. But there is much awkwardness of expression, and the notes of the Cambridge editor well deserve the attention of the student. εξαλλασσουσαν χαριν seems to refer to μετρια χαρις in vs. 555, and probably signifies that the grace of a reasonable affection leads to the equal grace of a clear perception, the mind being unblinded by vehement impulses of passion.
[43] i.e. quiet, domestic.
[44] ενων is only Markland's conjecture. The whole passage is desperate.
[45] I read μυριοπληθη with ed. Camb. The pronoun ‛ο I can not make out, but by supplying an impossible ellipse.
[46] The Cambridge editor rightly reads ιου, ιου, as an exclamation of pleasure, not of pain, is required.
[47] Dindorf condemns this whole paragraph.
[48] The Cambridge editor thinks these two lines a childish interpolation. They certainly are childish enough, but the same objection applies to the whole passage.
[49] But read ‛οι δ' with Dobree. The grooms are meant.
[50] Porson condemns these four lines, which are utterly destitute of sense or connection.
[51] These "precious" lines are even worse than the preceding, and rightly condemned by all.
[52] See Elmsl. on Soph. Œd. C. 273. The student must carefully observe the hidden train of thought pervading Agamemnon's replies.
[53] τα Μενελεω κακα must mean the ills resulting from Menelaus, the mischiefs and toils to which his wife led, as in Soph. Antig. 2. των απ Οιδιπου κακων, "the ills brought about by the misfortunes or the curse of Œdipus." But I should almost prefer reading λεχη for κακα, which would naturally refer to Helen.
[54] This line is metrically corrupt, but its emendation is very uncertain.
[55] I have endeavored to convey the play upon the words as closely as I could. Elmsley well suggests that the proper reading is ‛εστηξεις in vs. 675.
[56] οφθηναι κοραις, "non, ut hic, a viris et exercitu." BRODÆUS.
[57] Porson on Orest. 1090, remarks on that ‛ο κυριος was the term applied to the father or guardian of the bride. We might therefore render, "Jove gave her away," etc.
[58] If this be the correct reading, we must take καλως ironically. But I think with Dindorf, that κακως, αναγκαιως δε.
[59] This verse is condemned by the Cambridge editor.
[60] Barnes rightly remarked that ηιξα is the aorist of αισσω, conor, aggredior.
[61] These three lines are expunged by the Cambridge editor.
[62] I have expressed the sense of η μη τρεφειν (= μη εχειν γυναικα), rather than the literal meaning of the words.
[63] I must inform the reader that the latter portion of this chorus is extremely unsatisfactory in its present state. The Cambridge editor, who has well discussed its difficulties, thinks that Περγαμον is wrong, and that ερυμα should be introduced from vs. 792, where it appears to be quite useless.
[64] I have ventured to read δακρυοεν τανυσας with MSS. Pariss., omitting ερυμα with the Cambridge editor, by which the difficulty is removed. The same scholar remarks that δακρυοεν is used adverbially.
[65] There is obviously a defect in the structure, but I am scarcely pleased with the attempts made to supply it.
[66] Read και παιδας with Musgrave.
[67] But see ed. Camb.
[68] But see ed. Camb.
[69] But the Cambridge editor admirably amends, εις μελλοντα σωσει χρονον, i.e. "it will be a long time before it preserves them," a hit at the self-importance of the old gentleman.
[70] I have little hesitation in reading πελας μοι with Markland, in place of γελαι μοι.
[71] There is much difficulty in this passage, and Markland appears to give it up in despair. Matthiæ simply takes the first part as equivalent to ‛υψηλοφρον εστι, referring μετριως to both verbs. The Cambridge editor takes διαζην as an infinitive disjoined from the construction. Vss. 922 sq. are indebted to Mr. G. Burges for their present situation, having before been assigned to the chorus.
[72] I have closely followed the Cambridge editor.
[73] See the notes of the same scholar.
[74] Dindorf has rightly received Porson's successful emendation. See Tracts, p. 224, and the Cambridge editor.
[75] Read σοις τε μελλουσιν with Markland.
[76] The Cambridge editor would omit vs. 1022. There is certainly a strange redundancy of meaning.
[77] Read εστασεν with Mark. Dind.
[78] So called, either because he was carried off by Jove while hunting in the promontory of Dardanus, or from his Trojan descent.
[79] I have adopted Tyrwhitt's view, considering the words inclosed in inverted commas as the actual words of the epithalamium. See Musgr. and ed. Camb. Hermann is strangely out of his reckoning.
[80] Read, however, Νηρηιδων with Heath, "first of the Nereids."
[81] The Cambridge editor would read νυμφοκομοι, Reiske νυμφοκομον. There is much difficulty in the whole of this last part of the chorus.
[82] Such is Hermann's explanation, but βεβηκοτος can not bear the sense. The Cambridge editor suspects that these five lines are a forgery.
[83] The Cambridge editor rightly, I think, condemns this line as the addition of some one "who thought that something more was wanting to comprise all the complaints of the speaker." I do not think the sense or construction is benefited by their existence.
[84] "Verum astus hic astu vacat." ERASMUS.
[85] Dindorf has apparently done wrong in admitting προσουδισας, but I have some doubt about every other reading yet proposed.
[86] See Camb. ed., who suspects interpolation.
[87] Cf. Lucret. i. 94. "Nec miseræ prodesse in tali tempore quibat, Quod patrio princeps donarat nomine regum." Æsch. Ag. 242 sqq.
[88] The Cambridge editor clearly shows that μοι is the true reading, as in vs. 54, το πραγμα δ' απορως ειχε Τυνδαρεωι πατρι, and 370.
[89] There is much doubt about the reading of this part of the chorus. See Dind. and ed. Camb.
[90] I have partly followed Abresch in translating these lines, but I do not advise the reader to rest satisfied with my translation. A reference to the notes of the elegant scholar, to whom we owe the Cambridge edition of this play, will, I trust, show that I have done as much as can well be done with such corrupted lines.
[91] Achilles is supposed to lay his hand on his sword. See however ed. Camb.
[92] Obviously a spurious line.
[93] I have punctuated with ed. Camb.
[94] See ed. Camb.
[95] ευφημησατε here governs two distinct accusatives.
[96] The Cambridge editor here takes notice of Aristotle's charge of inconsistency, ‛οτι ουδεν εοικεν ‛η ‛ικετευουσα [Iphigenia] τηι ‛υστεραι. He well remarks, that Iphigenia at first naturally gives way before the suddenness of the announcement of her fate, but that when she collects her feelings, her natural nobleness prevails.
[97] Cf. Lucret. i. 88. "Cui simul infula virgineos circumdata comtus, Ex utraque pari malarum parte profusa est."
[98] Read παγας with Reiske, Dind. ed. Camb. There is much corruption and awkwardness in the following verses of this ode.
[99] On the sense of μεμονε see ed. Camb., who would exclude δι' εμον ονομα.
[100] Cf. Soph. Ant. 806 sqq. The whole of this passage has been admirably illustrated by the Cambridge editor.
[101] There is much awkwardness about this epithet πατρωιαι. One would expect a clearer reference to Agamemnon. I scarcely can suppose it correct, although I do not quite see my way in the Cambridge editor's readings.
[102] Porson, Præf. ad Hec. p. xxi., and the Cambridge editor (p. 228 sqq.) have concurred in fully condemning the whole of this last scene. It is certain that in the time of Ælian something different must have been in existence, and equally certain that the whole abounds in repetitions and inconsistencies, that seem to point either to spuriousness, or, at least, to the existence of interpolations of a serious character. In this latter opinion Matthiæ and Dindorf agree.
[103] An allusion to the celebrated picture of Timanthes. See Barnes.
[104] I have done my best with this passage, following Matthiæ's explanation, which, however, I do not perfectly understand. If vs. 1567 were away, we should be less at a loss, but the same may be said of the whole scene.
IPHIGENIA.
ORESTES.
PYLADES.
HERDSMAN.
THOAS.
MESSENGER.
MINERVA.
CHORUS OF GRECIAN CAPTIVE WOMEN.
Orestes, coming into Tauri in Scythia, in company with Pylades, had been commanded to bear away the image of Diana, after which he was to meet with a respite from the avenging Erinnyes of his mother. His sister Iphigenia, who had been carried away by Diana from Aulis, when on the point of being sacrificed by her father, chances to be expiating a dream that led her to suppose Orestes dead, when a herdsman announces to her the arrival and detection of two strangers, whom she is bound by her office to sacrifice to Diana. On meeting, a mutual discovery takes place, and they plot their escape. Iphigenia imposes on the superstitious fears of Thoas, and, removing them to the sea-coast, they are on the point of making their escape together, when they are surprised, and subsequently detained and driven back by stress of weather. Thoas is about to pursue them, when Minerva appears, and restrains him from doing so, at the same time procuring liberty of return for the Grecian captives who form the chorus.
IPHIGENIA.
Pelops,[1] the son of Tantalus, setting out to Pisa with his swift steeds, weds the daughter of Œnomaus, from whom sprang Atreus; and from Atreus his sons, Menelaus and Agamemnon, from which [latter] I was born, Iphigenia, child of [Clytæmnestra,] daughter of Tyndarus, whom my father, as he imagined, sacrificed to Diana on account of Helen, near the eddies, which Euripus continually whirls to and fro, upturning the dark blue sea with frequent blasts, in the famed[2] recesses of Aulis. For here indeed king Agamemnon drew together a Grecian armament of a thousand ships, desiring that the Greeks might take the glorious prize of victory over Troy,[3] and avenge the outraged nuptials of Helen, for the gratification of Menelaus. But, there being great difficulty of sailing,[4] and meeting with no winds, he came to [the consideration of] the omens of burnt sacrifices, and Calchas speaks thus. O thou who rulest over this Grecian expedition, Agamemnon, thou wilt not lead forth thy ships from the ports of this land, before Diana shall receive thy daughter Iphigenia as a victim; for thou didst vow to sacrifice to the light-bearing Goddess whatsoever the year should bring forth most beautiful. Now your wife Clytæmnestra has brought forth a daughter in your house, referring to me the title of the most beautiful, whom thou must needs sacrifice. And so, by the arts of Ulysses,[5] they drew me from my mother under pretense of being wedded to Achilles. But I wretched coming to Aulis, being seized and raised aloft above[6] the pyre, would have been slain by the sword; but Diana, giving to the Greeks a stag in my stead, stole me away, and, sending me through the clear ether,[7] she settled me in this land of the Tauri, where barbarian Thoas rules[8] the land, o'er barbarians, [Thoas,] who guiding his foot swift as the pinion, has arrived at this epithet [of Thoas, i.e. the swift] on account of his fleetness of foot. And she places me in this house as priestess, since which time the Goddess Diana is wont to be pleased with such rites as these,[9] the name of which alone is fair. But, for the rest, I am silent, fearing the Goddess. For I sacrifice even as before was the custom in the city, whatever Grecian man comes to this land. I crop the hair, indeed, but the slaying that may not be told is the care of others within these shrines.[10] But the new visions which the [past] night hath brought with it, I will tell to the sky,[11] if indeed this be any remedy. I seemed in my sleep, removed from this land, to be dwelling in Argos, and to slumber in my virgin chamber, but the surface of the earth [appeared] to be shaken with a movement, and I fled, and standing without beheld the coping[12] of the house giving way, and all the roof falling stricken to the ground from the high supports. And one pillar alone, as it seemed to me, was left of my ancestral house, and from its capital it seemed to stream down yellow locks, and to receive a human voice, and I, cherishing this man-slaying office which I hold, weeping [began] to besprinkle it, as though about to be slain. But I thus interpret my dream. Orestes is dead, whose rites I was beginning. For male children are the pillars of the house, and those whom my lustral waters[13] sprinkle die. Nor yet can I connect the dream with my friends, for Strophius had no son, when I was to have died. Now, therefore, I being present, will to my absent brother offer the rites of the dead—for this I can do—in company with the attendants whom the king gave to me, Grecian women. But from some cause they are not yet present. I will go[14] within the home wherein I dwell, these shrines of the Goddess.
ORESTES. Look out! Watch, lest there be any mortal in the way.
PYLADES. I am looking out, and keeping watch, turning my eyes every where.
OR. Pylades, does it seem to you that this is the temple of the Goddess, whither we have directed our ship through the seas from Argos?[15]
PYL. It does, Orestes, and must seem the same to thee.
OR. And the altar where Grecian blood is shed?
PYL. At least it has its pinnacles tawny with blood.
OR. And under the pinnacles themselves do you behold the spoils?
PYL. The spoils, forsooth, of slain strangers.
OR. But it behooves one, turning one's eye around, to keep a careful watch. O Phœbus, wherefore hast thou again led me into this snare by your prophecies, when I had avenged the blood of my father by slaying my mother? But by successive[16] attacks of the Furies was I driven an exile, an outcast from the land, and fulfilled many diverse bending courses. But coming [to thy oracle] I required of thee how I might arrive at an end of the madness that drove me on, and of my toils [which I had labored through, wandering over Greece.[17]] But thou didst answer that I must come to the confines of the Tauric territory, where thy sister Diana possesses altars, and must take the image of the Goddess, which they here say fell from heaven[18] into these shrines; and that taking it either by stratagem or by some stroke of fortune, having gone through the risk, I should give it to the land of the Athenians—but no further directions were given—and that having done this, I should have a respite from my toils.[19] But I am come hither, persuaded by thy words, to an unknown and inhospitable land. I ask you, then, Pylades, for you are a sharer with me in this toil, what shall we do? For thou beholdest the lofty battlements of the walls. Shall we proceed to the scaling of the walls? How then should we escape notice[20] [if we did so?] Or shall we open the brass-wrought fastenings of the bolts? of which things we know nothing.[21] But if we are caught opening the gates and contriving an entrance, we shall die. But before we die, let us flee to the temple, whither we lately sailed.
PYL. To fly is unendurable, nor are we accustomed [to do so,] and we must not make light of the oracle of the God. But quitting the temple, let us hide our bodies in the caves, which the dark sea splashes with its waters, far away from the city, lest any one beholding the bark, inform the rulers, and we be straightway seized by force. But when the eye of dim night shall come, we must venture, bring all devices to bear, to seize the sculptured image from the temple. But observe the eaves [of the roof,[22]] where there is an empty space between the triglyphs in which you may let yourself down. For good men dare encounter toils, but the cowardly are of no account any where. We have not indeed come a long distance with our oars, so as to return again from the goal.[23]
OR. But one must follow your advice, for you speak well. We must go whithersoever in this land we can conceal our bodies, and lie hid. For the [will] of the God will not be the cause of his oracle falling useless. We must venture; for no toil has an excuse for young men.[24]
[ORESTES and PYLADES retire aside.]
CHORUS. Keep silence,[25] O ye that inhabit the twain rocks of the Euxine that face each other. O Dictynna, mountain daughter of Latona, to thy court, the gold-decked pinnacles of temples with fine columns, I, servant to the hallowed guardian of the key, conduct my pious virgin foot, changing [for my present habitation] the towers and walls of Greece with its noble steeds, and Europe with its fields abounding in trees, the dwelling of my ancestral home. I am come. What new matter? What anxious care hast thou? Wherefore hast thou led me, led me to the shrines, O daughter of him who came to the walls of Troy with the glorious fleet, with thousand sail, ten thousand spears of the renowned Atrides?[26]
IPHIGENIA. O attendants mine,[27] in what moans of bitter lamentation do I dwell, in the songs of a songless strain unfit for the lyre, alas! alas! in funereal griefs for the ills which befall me, bemoaning my brother, what a vision have I seen in the night whose darkness has passed away![28] I am undone, undone. No more is my father's house, ah me! no more is our race. Alas! alas! for the toils in Argos! Alas! thou deity, who hast now robbed me of my only brother, sending him to Hades, to whom I am about to pour forth on the earth's surface these libations and this bowl for the departed, and streams from the mountain heifer, and the wine draughts of Bacchus, and the work of the swarthy bees,[29] which are the wonted peace-offerings to the departed. O germ of Agamemnon beneath the earth, to thee as dead do I send these offerings. And do thou receive them, for not before [thine own] tomb do I offer my auburn locks,[30] my tears. For far away am I journeyed from thy country and mine, where, as opinion goes, I wretched lie slaughtered.
CHOR. A respondent strain and an Asiatic hymn of barbarian wailing will I peal forth to thee, my mistress, the song of mourning which, delighting the dead, Hades hymns in measure apart from Pæans.[31] Alas! the light of the sceptre in the Atrides' house is faded away. Alas! alas for my ancestral home! And what government of prosperous kings will there be in Argos?[32] * * * * And labor upon labor comes on * * * * [33] with his winged mares driven around. But the sun, changing from its proper place, [laid aside] its eye of light.[34] And upon other houses woe has come, because of the golden lamb, murder upon murder, and pang upon pang, whence the avenging Fury[35] of those sons slain of old comes upon the houses of the sons of Tantalus, and some deity hastens unkindly things against thee.
IPH. From the beginning the demon of my mother's zone[36] was hostile to me, and from that night in which the Fates hastened the pangs of childbirth[37] * * * * whom, the first-born germ the wretched daughter of Leda, (Clytæmnestra,) wooed from among the Greeks brought forth, and trained up as a victim to a father's sin, a joyless sacrifice, a votive offering. But in a horse-chariot they brought[38] me to the sands of Aulis, a bride, alas! unhappy bride to the son of Nereus' daughter, alas! And now a stranger I dwell in an unpleasant home on the inhospitable sea, unwedded, childless, without city, without a friend, not chanting Juno in Argos, nor in the sweetly humming loom adorning with the shuttle the image of Athenian Pallas[39] and of the Titans, but imbruing altars with the shed blood of strangers, a pest unsuited to the harp, [of strangers] sighing forth[40] a piteous cry, and shedding a piteous tear. And now indeed forgetfulness of these matters [comes upon] me, but now I mourn my brother dead in Argos, whom I left yet an infant at the breast, yet young, yet a germ in his mother's arms and on her bosom, Orestes [the future] holder of the sceptre in Argos.
CHOR. But hither comes a herdsman, leaving the sea-coast, about to tell thee some new thing.
HERDSMAN. Daughter of Agamemnon and child of Clytæmnestra, hear thou from me a new announcement.
IPH. And what is there astonishing in the present report?
HERDS. Two youths are come into this land, to the dark-blue Symplegades, fleeing into a ship, a grateful sacrifice and offering to Diana. But you can not use too much haste[41] in making ready the lustral waters and the consecrations.
IPH. Of what country? of what land do the strangers bear the name?
HERDS. Greeks, this one thing I know, and nothing further.
IPH. Hast thou not heard the name of the strangers, so as to tell it?
HERDS. One of them was styled Pylades by the other.
IPH. But what was the name of the yoke-fellow of this stranger?
HERDS. No one knows this. For we heard it not.
IPH. But how saw ye them, and chanced to take them?
HERDS. Upon the furthest breakers of the inhospitable sea.
IPH. And what had herdsmen to do with the sea?
HERDS. We came to lave our steers in the dew of the sea.
IPH. Go back again to this point—how did ye catch them, and by what means, for I would fain know this? For they are come after a long season, nor has the altar of the Goddess yet been crimsoned with Grecian blood.[42]
HERDS. After we woodland herdsmen had brought our cattle down to the sea that flows between the Symplegades, there is a certain hollow cave,[43] broken by the frequent lashing of the waves, a retreat for those who hunt for the purple fish. Here some herdsman among us beheld two youths, and he retired back, piloting his step on tiptoe, and said: See ye not? these who sit here are some divine powers. And one of us, being religiously given, uplifted his hand, and addressed them, as he beheld: O son of Leucothea, guardian of ships, Palæmon our lord, be propitious to us, whether indeed ye be the twin sons of Jove (Castor and Pollux) who sit upon our shores, or the image of Nereus, who begot the noble chorus of the fifty Nereids. But another vain one, bold in his lawlessness, scoffed at these prayers, and said that they were shipwrecked[44] seamen who sat upon the cleft through fear of the law, hearing that we here sacrifice strangers. And to most of us he seemed to speak well, and [we resolved] to hunt for the accustomed victims for the Goddess. But meanwhile one of the strangers leaving the rock, stood still, and shook his head up and down, and groaned, with his very fingers quaking, wandering with ravings, and shouts with voice like that of hunter, "Pylades, dost thou behold this? Dost not behold this snake of Hades, how she would fain slay me, armed against me with horrid vipers?[45] And she breathing from beneath her garments[46] fire and slaughter, rows with her wings, bearing my mother in her arms, that she may cast upon me this rocky mass. Alas! she will slay me. Whither shall I fly?" And one beheld not the same form of countenance, but he uttered in turn the bellowings of calves and howls of dogs, which imitations [of wild beasts] they say the Furies utter. But we flinching, as though about to die, sat mute; and he drawing a sword with his hand, rushing among the calves, lion-like, strikes them on the flank with the steel, driving it into their sides, fancying that he was thus avenging himself on the Fury Goddesses, till that a gory foam was dashed up from the sea. Meanwhile, each one of us, as he beheld the herds being slain and ravaged, armed himself, and inflating the conch[47] shells and assembling the inhabitants—for we thought that herdsmen were weak to fight against well-trained and youthful strangers. And a large number of us was assembled in a short time. But the stranger, released from the attack of madness, drops down, with his beard befouled with foam. But when we saw him fallen opportunely [for us,] each man did his part, with stones, with blows. But the other of the strangers wiped away the foam, and tended his mouth, and spread over him the well-woven texture of his garments, guarding well the coming wounds, and aiding his friend with tender offices. But when the stranger returning to his senses leaped up, he perceived that a hostile tempest and present calamity was close upon them, and he groaned aloud. But we ceased not hurling rocks, each standing in a different place. But then indeed we heard a dread exhortation, "Pylades, we shall die, but that we die most gloriously! Follow me, drawing thy sword in hand." But when we saw the twain swords of the enemy[48] brandished, in flight we filled the woods about the crag. But if one fled, others pressing on pelted them; and if they drove these away, again the party who had just yielded aimed at them with rocks. But it was incredible, for out of innumerable hands no one succeeded in hitting these victims to the Goddess. And we with difficulty, I will not say overcome them by force, but taking them in a circle, beat[49] their swords out of their hands with stones, and they dropped their knees to earth [overcome] with toil. And we brought them to the king of this land, but he, when he beheld them, sent them as quickly as possible to thee for lustral waters and sacrifice. But do thou, O virgin, wish that such strangers may be here as victims, and if thou slayest these strangers, Hellas will atone for thy [intended] murder, paying the penalty of the sacrifice at Aulis.[50]
CHOR. Thou hast told wondrous things concerning him who has appeared, whosoever he be that has come to the inhospitable sea from the Grecian earth.[51]
IPH. Be it so. Do thou go and bring the strangers, but I will take care respecting the matters[52] here. O hapless heart, that once wast mild and full of pity toward strangers, awarding the tear to those of thine own land, when thou didst receive Grecian men into thine hands.[53] But now, because of the dreams by which I am driven wild, thinking that Orestes no longer beholds the sun, ye will find me ill disposed, whoever ye be that come. For this is true, I perceive it, my friends,[54] for the unhappy who themselves fare ill have no good feelings toward those more fortunate. But neither has any wind sent by Jove ever come [hither,] nor ship, which could have brought hither Helen, who destroyed me, and Menelaus, in order that I might be avenged on them, placing an Aulis here to the account[55] of the one there, where the sons of Danaus seized, and would have slain me like as a calf, and the father who begat me was the priest. Ah me! for I can not forget the ills of that time, how oft I stretched out my hands to his beard, and hanging on the knees of him who gave me life, spake words like these: "O father, basely am I, basely am I wedded at thine hands. But my mother, while thou art slaying me, and her Argive ladies are hymning my wedding[56] with their nuptial songs, and all the house resounds with the flute, while I perish by thy hands. Hades in truth was Achilles, not the son of Peleus, whom thou didst name as my husband, and in the chariot didst pilot me by craft unto a bloody wedding." But I, casting mine eye through my slender woven veil, neither took up with mine hands my brother who is now dead, nor joined my lips to my sister's,[57] through modesty, as departing to the home of Peleus; and many a salutation I deferred, as though about to come again to Argos. Oh wretched one, if thou hast died! from what glorious state, Orestes, and from how envied a sire's fortune art thou fallen! But I reproach the devices of the Goddess, who, if any one work the death of a man, or touch with hands a woman newly delivered, or a corpse, restrains him from her altars, as deeming him impure, but yet herself takes pleasure in man-slaying sacrifices. It can not be that the consort of Jove, Latona, hath brought forth so much ignorance. I even disbelieve the banquets of Tantalus set before the Gods, [as that they] should be pleased with feeding on a boy. But I deem that those in this land, being themselves man-slayers, charge the Goddess with their own baseness, for I think not that any one of the Gods is bad.
CHOR. Ye dark blue, dark blue meetings of the sea, which Io, hurried along by the brize, once passed through to the Euxine wave, having changed the territory of Asia for Europe,—who were they who left fair-watered Eurotas, flourishing in reeds, or the sacred founts of Dirce, and came, and came to the inhospitable land, where the daughter of Jove bedews her altars and column-girt temples with human blood? Of a truth by the surge-dashing oars of fir, worked on both sides, they sailed in a nautical carriage o'er the ocean waves, striving in the emulation after loved wealth in their houses. For darling hope is in dangers insatiate among men, who bear off the weight of riches, wandering in vain speculation on the wave and o'er barbarian cities. But to some[58] there is a mind immoderate after riches, to others they come unsought. How did they pass through the rocks that run together, the ne'er resting beaches of Phineus, [and] the marine shore, running o'er the surge of Amphitrite,[59]—where the choruses of the fifty daughters of Nereus entwine in the dance,—[although] with breezes that fill the sails, the creaking rudders resting at the poop, with southern gales or the breezes of Zephyr, to the bird-haunted land, the white beach, the glorious race-course of Achilles, near the Euxine Sea. Would that, according to my mistress' prayers, Helen, the dear daughter of Leda, might sometime chance to come, quitting the city of Troy, that, having been drenched about the head with the blood-stained lustral dews, she might die by my mistress' hand, paying in turn an equal penalty [for her death.] Most joyfully then would we receive this news, if any one came sailing from the Grecian land, to make the toils of my hapless slavery to cease. And would that in my dreams I might tread[60] in mine home and ancestral city, enjoying the hymns of delight, a joy shared with the prosperous. But hither they come, bound as to their two[61] hands with chains, a new sacrifice for the Goddess. Be silent, my friends, for these first-fruits of the Greeks approach the temples, nor has the herdsman told a false tale. O reverend Goddess, if the city performs these things agreeably to thee, receive the sacrifice which, not hallowed among the Greeks, the custom of this place presents as a public offering.[62]
IPH. Be it so. I must first take care that the rites of the Goddess are as they should be. Let go the hands of the strangers, that being consecrated they may no longer be in bonds. And, going within the temple, make ready the things which are necessary and usual on these occasions. Alas! Who is the mother who once bore you? And who your father, and your sister, if there be any born? Of what a pair of youths deprived will she be brotherless! For all the dispensations of the Gods creep into obscurity, and no one [absent] knows misfortune,[63] for fortune leads astray to what is hardly known. Whence come ye, O unhappy strangers? After how long a time have ye sailed to this land, and ye will be a long time from your home, ever among the shades![64]
OR. Why mournest thou thus, and teasest us[65] concerning our future ills, whoever thou art, O lady? In naught do I deem him wise, who, when about to die, with bewailings seeks to overcome the fear of death, nor him who deplores death now near at hand,[66] when he has no hope of safety, in that he joins two ills instead of one, both incurs the charge of folly, and dies none the less. But one must needs let fortune take its course. But mourn us not, for we know and are acquainted with the sacrificial rites of this place.
IPH. Which of ye twain here is named Pylades? This I would fain know first.
OR. This man, if indeed 'tis any pleasure for thee to know this.
IPH. Born citizen of what Grecian state?
OR. And what wouldst thou gain by knowing this, lady?
IPH. Are ye brothers from one mother?
OR. In friendship we are, but we are not related, lady.
IPH. But what name did the father who begot thee give to thee?
OR. In truth we might be styled the unhappy.
IPH. I ask not this. Leave this to fortune.
OR. Dying nameless, I should not be mocked.
IPH. Wherefore dost grudge this, and art thus proud?
OR. My body thou shalt sacrifice, not my name.
IPH. Nor wilt thou tell me which is thy city?
OR. No. For thou seekest a thing of no profit, seeing I am to die.
IPH. But what hinders thee from granting me this favor?
OR. I boast renowned Argos for my country.
IPH. In truth, by the Gods I ask thee, stranger, art thou thence born?
OR. From Mycenæ,[67] that was once prosperous.
IPH. And hast thou set out a wanderer from thy country, or by what hap?
OR. I flee in a certain wise unwilling, willingly.
IPH. Wouldst thou tell me one thing that I wish?
OR. That something, forsooth,[68] may be added to my misfortune.
IPH. And truly thou hast come desired by me, in coming from Argos.
OR. Not by myself, at all events; but if by thee, do thou enjoy it.[69]
IPH. Perchance thou knowest Troy, the fame of which is every where.
OR. Ay, would that I never had, not even seeing it in a dream!
IPH. They say that it is now no more, and has fallen by the spear.
OR. And so it is, nor have you heard what is not the case.
IPH. And is Helen come back to the house of Menelaus?
OR. She is, ay, coming unluckily to one of mine.
IPH. And where is she? For she has incurred an old debt of evil with me also.
OR. She dwells in Sparta with her former consort.
IPH. O hateful pest among the Greeks, not to me only!
OR. I also have received some fruits of her nuptials.
IPH. And did the return of the Greeks take place, as is reported?
OR. How dost thou question me, embracing all matters at once!
IPH. For I wish to obtain this before that thou diest.
OR. Examine me, since thou hast this longing, and I will speak.
IPH. Has a certain seer named Calchas returned from Troy?
OR. He perished, as the story ran, at Mycenæ.
IPH. O revered Goddess, how well it is! And how fares the son of Laertes?
OR. He has not yet returned to his home, but he is alive, as report goes.
IPH. May he perish, never obtaining a return to his country!
OR. Invoke nothing—all his affairs are in a sickly state.
IPH. But is the son of Thetis, the daughter of Nereus, yet alive?
OR. He is not. In vain he held his wedding in Aulis.
IPH. A crafty [wedding] it was, as those who have suffered say.
OR. Who canst thou be? How well dost ken the affairs of Greece!
IPH. I am from thence. While yet a child I was undone.
OR. With reason thou desirest to know the affairs there, O lady.
IPH. But how [fares] the general, who they say is prosperous.
OR. Who? For he whom I know is not of the fortunate.
IPH. A certain king Agamemnon was called the son of Atreus.
OR. I know not—cease from these words, O lady.
IPH. Nay, by the Gods, but speak, that I may be rejoiced, O stranger.
OR. The wretched one is dead, and furthermore hath ruined one.[70]
IPH. Is dead? By what mishap? O wretched me!
OR. But why dost mourn this? Was he a relation of thine?
IPH. I bemoan his former prosperity.
OR. [Ay, well mayest thou,] for he has fallen, slain shamefully by a woman.
IPH. O all grievous she that slew and he that fell!
OR. Cease now at least, nor question further.
IPH. Thus much at least, does the wife of the unhappy man live?
OR. She is no more. The son she brought forth, he slew her.
IPH. O house all troubled! with what intent, then?[71]
OR. Taking satisfaction on her for the death of his father.
IPH. Alas! how well he executed an evil act of justice.[72]
OR. But, though just, he hath not good fortune from the Gods.
IPH. But does Agamemnon leave any other child in his house?
OR. He has left a single virgin [daughter,] Electra.
IPH. What! Is there no report of his sacrificed daughter?[73]
OR. None indeed, save that being dead she beholds not the light.
IPH. Hapless she, and the father who slew her!
OR. She perished, a thankless offering[74] because of a bad woman.
IPH. But is the son of the deceased father at Argos?
OR. He, wretched man, is nowhere and every where.
IPH. Away, vain dreams, ye were then of naught!
OR. Nor are the Gods who are called wise any less false than winged dreams. There is much inconsistency both among the Gods and among mortals. But one thing alone is left, when[75] a man not being foolish, persuaded by the words of seers, has perished, as he hath perished in man's knowledge.
CHOR. Alas! alas! But what of us and our fathers? Are they, or are they not in being, who can tell?
IPH. Hear me, for I am come to a certain discourse, meditating what is at once profitable for you and me. But that which is well is chiefly produced thus, when the same matter pleases all. Would ye be willing, if I were to save you, to go to Argos, and bear a message for me to my friends there, and carry a letter, which a certain captive wrote, pitying me, nor deeming my hand that of a murderess, but that he died through custom, as the Goddess sanctioned such things as just? For I had no one who would go and bear the news back to Argos, and who, being preserved, would send my letters to some one of my friends.[76] But do thou, for thou art, as thou seemest, of no ignoble birth, and knowest Mycenæ and the persons I wish, do thou, I say,[77] be saved, receiving no dishonorable reward, your safety for the sake of trifling letters. But let this man, since the city compels it, be a sacrifice to the Goddess, apart from thee.
OR. Well hast thou spoken the rest, save one thing, O stranger lady, for 'tis a heavy weight upon me that this man should be slain. For I was steersman of the vessel to these ills,[78] but he is a fellow-sailor because of mine own troubles. In no wise then is it right that I should do thee a favor to his destruction, and myself escape from ills. But let it be thus. Give him the letter, for he will send it to Argos, so as to be well for thee, but let him that will slay me. Base is the man, who, casting his friends into calamity, himself is saved. But this man is a friend, who I fain should see the light no less that myself.
IPH. O noblest spirit, how art thou sprung from some generous root, thou truly a friend to thy friends! Such might he be who is left of my brothers! For in good truth, strangers, I am not brotherless, save that I behold him not. But since thou willest thus, let us send this man bearing the letter, but thou wilt die, and some great desire of this chances to possess thee?[79]
OR. But who will sacrifice me, and dare this dreadful deed?
IPH. I; for I have this sacrificial duty[80] from the Goddess.