The line τίς ἀν ἔυξαιτο βροτῶν ἀσιν(ε)ι, being deficient in metre, one may either supply ὄυκ, with Canter., which gives the meaning expressed in the text, or, retaining the affirmative form, read βροτός, ὤν, with Both. and Fr., which gives an equally good sense thus—

so Pot., Med., Humb., Droys., Fr., and Voss.

I follow Müller here in dividing the Chorus among twelve, not fifteen speakers. The internal evidence plainly points to this; and for any external evidence of scholiasts and others in such matters, even if it were uncontradicted, I must confess that I think it is worth very little.

Most lame and impotent conclusion!—so the reader has no doubt been all the while exclaiming. Our great poet has here contrived to make one of the most tragic moments of the play consummately ridiculous; and it is in vain to defend him. No doubt, old men are apt enough to be irresolute, and to deliberate, while the decisive moment for action slips through their fingers. So far in character. But why does the poet bring this vacillation so laboriously forward, that it necessarily appears ludicrous? This formal argumentation turns the character of the Chorus into caricature. Nor will it do to say with Con. that this impotent scene was “forced on Æschylus, by the fact of the existence of a Chorus, and the nature of the work he had to do.” A short lyrical ode might have covered worthily that irresolution, which a formal argumentation only exposes. No one blames the Chorus for doing nothing; that is all right enough; but every one must blame the poet for making them talk with such a show of solemn gravity and earnest loyalty about doing nothing.

The natural attitude of decision. So when Brutus administered the famous oath to the Roman people, “neminem Romæ regnare passuros,” he and his colleagues are described by Dionysius (V. 1) as σταντες ἐπι των τομίων.

I have endeavoured to express the repetition of the off three times as in the original; but the Greek is far more emphatic, the repetition taking place in the same line, ἀπέδικες, ἀπέταμες ἀπόπολις δ ἕσῃ.

There is much difficulty in settling the reading and the construction of the Greek here; but having compared all the translations, I find that, from Pot. down to Med. and Fr., substantially the same sentiment is educed. Sym. who praises Blom.’s arrangement, gives—

Well. whom I follow, and who objects to Blom.’s construction, gives—

I do not know whether I may not have gone too far in retaining the original force of λίπος in this passage. I perceive that few of the translators, not even Sew., so curious in etymological translation, keep me in countenance. However, I am always very loath to smooth down a strong phrase in Æschylus, merely because the modern ear may think it gross. In this case, I am glad to find that I am supported by Droys.

though my rendering is a little more free.

Strophe i. In the arrangement of the following lyric dialogue, I have followed But., Blom., and Peile, in opposition to that given by Herm., Well., and Fr., not for any metrical reasons sufficiently strong to influence me either one way or other in constituting the text; but because I find the sense complete and continuous after νῦν δε τελειάν, and this alone is a sufficient reason why I, in my subordinate function of a translator, should not suppose anything to have fallen out of the text in this place. How much, however, we are all in the dark about the matter appears from this, that in the place where Blom. and Peile suppose an immense lacuna, the sense in the mouth of Clytemnestra νῦν δ᾽ ὤρθωσας runs on with a continuous allusion to the preceding words of the Chorus. For which reason I have not hinted the existence of an omission, nor is it at all likely that the reader has lost much. These are matters which belonged to the ancient symmetrical arrangement of the Chorus before the eyes and ears of the spectators, and which I much fear it it impossible for us, readers of a dry MS., to revive at this time of day.

I am afraid I stand alone, among the translators, in translating δαῖμον in this and similar places, by the English word god; but persuaded as I am that the English words Fiend and Demon are steeped in modern partly Gothic, partly Christian associations of a character essentially opposed to the character and genius of the Greek theology, I choose rather to offend the taste than to confound the judgment of my reader in so important a matter. The Greeks habitually attributed to their gods actions and sentiments, which we attribute only to devils and demons. Such beings (in the English sense) were, in fact, altogether unknown to the Greeks. Their gods, as occasion required, performed all the functions of our Devil; so that, to use a familiar illustration, instead of the phrase, what the devil are you about? so familiar to a genuine English ear, the Athenians would have said, what the god are you about? Hence the use of δαιμόνιε in Homer.

Along with Sym. and Con. I retain the Greek word here, partly from the reason given in the previous note with regard to δαίμων, partly because the word is familiar to many poetical ears from Shelley’s poetry, partly, also, because I take care so to explain it in the context, that it cannot be misunderstood by the English reader. The Greek word ἀλάστωρ means an evil genius. Clement of Alexandria, in a passage quoted by Sym. (Protrept c. II.) classes the Alastors of the ancient tragedy with the Furies and other terrible ministers of heaven’s avenging justice. About the etymology of the word the lexicographers and critics are not agreed. Would there be any harm in connecting it with ἀλαστέω (Il. XII. 163), and ἐπαλαστέω (Odys. I. 252), so that it should signify an angry or wrathful spirit.

I have here taken advantage of a Hebraism familiar, through the pages of the Bible, to the English ear, in order to give somewhat of the force of the fine alliteration in the original κάππεσε, κάτθανε. καὶ καταθάψομεν. In the next three lines I have filled up a blank in the text, by what must obviously have been the import of the lost lines, if, indeed, Paley, Klausen, and Con. are not rather right in not insisting on an exact response of stanza to stanza in the anapæstic systems of the musical dialogue.

μίμνοντος ὲν χρόνῳΔιὸς. “The meaning is sufficiently plain, if we do not disturb it by any philosophical notions about the difference between time and eternity.”—Con. The reader will note here the grand idea of retributive justice pursuing a devoted family from generation to generation, and, as it were, entailing misery upon them, concerning which see Sewell’s remarks above, p. 349. Sophocles strikes the same keynote in the choric chaunt of the Antigone, ἀρχαῖα τα Δαβδακιδᾶν ὄικων ὁρῶμαι.

Editors have a great difficulty in settling the text here; but there is enough of the meaning visible—especially when the passage is compared with Herod. I. 119, referred to by Schütz—to enable the translator to proceed on the assumption of a text substantially the same as that given by Fr., where the second line is supplied—

The reader will observe that in these and such like passages, where, after all the labours of the learned, an uncertainty hangs over the text, I think myself safer in giving only the general undoubted meaning that shines through the passage, without venturing on the slippery ground of translating words of which the proper connection may be lost, or which, perhaps, were not written at all by the poet.

I quite agree with Con. that there is not the slightest reason for rejecting the natural meaning of λακτίσμα δείπνου in this passage. Such expressions are quite Æschylean in their character, and the analogy of the feast of Tereus in Ovid, Met. VI. 661,

adduced by Con. is very happy. To push the table away, whether with hand or heel, or with both, in such a case, is the most natural action in the world.

I have here expanded the text a little, to express the whole force of the Greek word Ἱατρομάντεις, concerning which see Note to the Eumen. v. 62, below.

These two lines in the mouth of the Chorus make a good consecutive sense; but the symmetrical response of line to line, so characteristic of Greek tragedy, has led Herm., Well., and the other editors of note, to suppose that a line from Ægisthus has fallen out between these lines of the Chorus. Blanks of this kind, however, the translator will wisely overlook, so long as they do not seriously disturb the sense.

NOTES TO THE CHOEPHORÆ

Jove was regarded as the grand source of the power exercised by all the other gods, even Apollo receiving the gift of prophecy from him. There is a peculiar propriety in the allusion to the father Zeus, as Mercury is requested to perform the same office of σωτήρ or Saviour to Orestes that Jove in a peculiar manner performs to all mankind.—See Müller on Zeus Soter. (Eumenides, § 94), whose observations, however, on this particular passage, seem to force an artificial accent on the epithet σώτηρ. The opening lines of this piece are wanting in the MSS. and were supplied by Stan. from the Frogs of Aristophanes.

These words will recall to the student of Homer a passage from the twenty-third book of the Iliad, where an account is given of the funeral ceremonies of Patroclus.

And again—

Compare the beautiful passage on the Greek mythology in Wordsworth’s Excursion, Book IV.

Of the high functions which belong to the supreme god of the Greeks, that of avenger is not the least notable, and is alluded to with special frequency in the Odyssey, of which poem, retribution in this life for wicked works is the great moral—whence the frequent line—

“As these violent manifestations of grief were forbidden by Solon (Plut. 21), we are to look upon them in this place as peculiarly characteristic of the foreign captive maidens who compose the chorus”—Kl.; though the epithet of ἄμφιδρυφὴς ἄλοχος applied to the wife of Protesilaus by Homer (Il. ii. 700, xi. 393), shows that, in the heroic times, at least, the expression of sorrow was almost as violent on the west as on the east side of the Hellespont.

φοβεῖτας δέ τις. “People are afraid, and dare not speak out”—Peile. abruptness of this passage renders it difficult to see the allusion. Paley gives it quite a different turn. “Sunt qui ob commissi sceleris quo adepti sint magnam fortunam (το ἐυτυχ(ε)ίν) conscientiam torqueantur.” But I do not think that this rendering agrees so well with the words that follow. The thought seems to be—the world judges by results; and men are content, even in fear, to obey a usurper, who shows his right by his success. This brings out a beautiful contrast to the σέβας, or feeling of loyal reverence that filled the public mind towards Agamemnon, who is alluded to in the first words of the Antistrophe.

I do not see why Well. and Kl. should object to πόροι being taken, as the Scholiast hints, for an equivalent to ποταμοὶ. The word simply means “channels,” and in the present connection of purification would naturally explain itself to a Greek ear, as channels of water. Kl.’s rendering of πόρος, ratio expiandae caedis, has no merit but being unpoetical. The ἰοῦσαν ἄτην holds concealed some hopeless blunder; but for the need the κλύσειαν άν μάτην of Fr. may be adopted.

“There is a proverb, Δ(ο)υλε δεσποτῶν ἄκουε καὶ δίκαια καὶ αδικα. Slave hear thy master whether right or wrong.”—Scholiast.

ὑφ (ε)ιμάτων. Stan. quotes the beautiful picture of Telemachus (Odyssey IV. 114), endeavouring to conceal his filial sorrow from the eyes of Menelaus at Sparta—

These libations are described in various passages of the Classics, of which the following may suffice:—

The χοᾶισι πρισπόνδαισι, being the wine, water, and milk, particularised in the above extract from Homer. Compare Virgil’s Æn. V. 78, and St. Augustine’s Confessions vi. 2, with regard to his mother’s offering at the tombs of the martyrs—pultes et panem et merum.

καθάρματα. “Ashes of lustral offerings”—Peile. “Alluding to the custom of the Athenians, who, after purifying their houses with incense in an earthen vessel, threw the vessel into the streets, and retired with averted eyes.”—Scholiast.

Why not? πῶς δ᾽ ου; how should it be otherwise? Observe, here, how far the Christian rule, love thine enemies, was from the Heathen mind. It is very far yet from our practice; though it is difficult to over-estimate the value of having such ideal moral maxims as those of the New Testament to refer to as a generally recognized standard.

All the recent editors agree in bringing up the line—

from v. 162 to this place, where the initial words are plainly wanting. “Hermes is invoked here as the great mediator between the living and the dead.”—Kl. “Herald me in this”—κηύξας ᾽εμοι—perform a herald’s function to me in this; the verb chosen with special reference to the name κήρυξ, according to the common practice of the Greek writers. In the second line below, I can have no hesitation in adopting Stan.’s emendation of ὸωμάτων for ομμάτων. Ahrens (in Fr.) has tried to make the passage more pregnant by reading ἁιμάτων, but this scarcely seems such an obvious emendation.

This is said to avoid the bad omen of mingling a curse with a blessing. The ancients were very scrupulous as to the use of evil words in religious services, and, when such were either necessary, or had accidentally crept in, they always made a formal apology. This I have expressed more largely than my text warrants in the next line, where I follow Schütz in reading καλῆς for κακῆς; a correction which, though not absolutely necessary, is sufficiently plausible to justify Blom., Schol., and Pal. in their adoption of it.

Chorus. This chorus seems hopelessly botched in the first half, and all the attempts to mend it are more or less unsatisfactory. If any one think “plashing torrents” a strong phrase, he must know that it is no stronger than καναχὲς in the original, a word familiar to every student of Homer. The ἐρυμα (or ἐρμα—Herm.), I agree with every interpreter, except Klausen, in applying to the tomb of Agamemnon; of the κακῶν κεδνῶν τε, I can make nothing, beyond incorporating the Scholiast’s gloss, ἀπότροπον των ἠμετέρων κακῶν.

Electra. The reader will find in Pot. a somewhat amplified translation of the line here—

mentioned above as having been thrown back by Hermann to the commencement of Electra’s address over the tomb of her father, immediately preceding the short choral ode. It is literally translated by E. P., Oxon.—

but comes in quite awkwardly, and manifestly out of place.

βαθυζώνου. “High-bosomed,” Potter; “hochgeschürzt,” Droysen; “deep-bosomed,” E. P., Oxon.; “Weib im Festgewand,” Franz. Not having a distinct idea of what is meant by this epithet, I have contented myself with a literal rendering.

This passage has given great trouble to commentators, who cannot see how Electra should say that no person but herself could have owned this lock, which yet she knew was not her own. They have, accordingly, at least Lin., Peile, and Pal., adopted Dobrees’ emendation of ἑνος (one person, i.e., Orestes), instead of ἐμου, mine, which, though ingenious, does not appear to me at all necessary. Electra means to say, nobody here could have done it but me; and yet it is not mine (this implied); therefore, of course, the conclusion to be made is clear, ἐυξύμβολον τὸδ ἐστι δοξάσαι, it must have been Orestes!

Imagine such evidence produced as a step in the chain of circumstantial evidence before a court of justice! Even the perturbed state of Electra’s mind may not redeem it from the charge of being grossly ludicrous. Well. and Fr., with that solemn conscientious gravity for which the Germans are notable, have, however, taken it under their wing, followed here, strangely enough, by Peile. If the circumstance is to be defended at all, we had better suppose that Æschylus has given the details of the recognition exactly as he had received them from the old popular legend in the mouth of some story-teller. But why should not the father of tragedy, as well as the father of Epos, sometimes nod?

This seems to have been a sort of proverbial prayer among the Greeks, used for the sake of a good omen, as we find Clytemnestra, in the Agamemnon (p. 57 above), saying the same thing.

῏Ευ γὰρ πρὸς ἐυ φαν(ε)ισι προσθήκη πελοι. v. 486.

“The ladies, in the simplicity of ancient times, valued themselves much, and, indeed, were highly esteemed, for their skill in embroidery; those rich wrought vests made great part of the wealth of noble houses. Andromache, Helen, and Penelope, were celebrated for their fine work, of which Minerva herself was the patroness, and Dido was as excellent as the best of them.”—Pot. The student will recall a familiar instance from Virgil—

evidently modelled on Odys. xix. 225.

The reader will note this theological triad as very characteristic of the Greeks. Power (Κράτος) is coupled with Jove, as being his most peculiar physical attribute. Personified, this attribute appears in the Prometheus; and in Homer,

answers to the opening words of our own solemn addresses to the Supreme Being—Almighty God. Justice, again, belongs to Jove as the highest moral attribute; and this conjunction we find also very distinctly expressed in Homer.

ἀποχρημάτοισι ζημιάις ταυρόυμενον. Kl. has made sad havoc of this line; but his objections to the old translation are weak, and his transpositions, so far as I can see, only make confusion more confounded. I stick by Stan. Ἀποχρήματος ζημιά est damnum bonorum omnium. Huc facit illud quod sequitur v. 299. και προσπιέζει χρημάτων ἀχηνία.

I am quite at a loss to explain the original of this passage further than that I see nothing harsh (as Lin. does) in referring the general term δυσφρόνων to the Furies, who are specially mentioned afterwards. It is quite common with Æschylus to give a general description first, and then specialise; and, moreover, in the present instance the λιχήνος which the δυσφρονες are to send on the flesh of the sinner, are strictly analogous to the λιχὴν ἀφυλλος (Eumen. v. 788), with which, in the Eumenides, they threaten to curse the Athenian soil. For the rest I should have little objection, in the present state of the MSS., to adopt Lobeck’s suggestion, μηνίματα, into the text, and have in effect so translated.

The reference of this impracticable line to Apollo comes from Pauw, and has been adopted by Schwenck, who reads—

Another way of squeezing a meaning from the line is to refer it to Agamemnon—

The other translations proposed are meagre and unpoetical.

Here we have a notable example of the terms of that sort of excommunication which the religious and social feeling of the ancients passed against the perpetrators of atrocious crimes. See Introductory Remarks to the Eumenides.

The old Jewish maxim of an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, will here recur to every one; and, indeed, it is, to the present day, an instinctive dictate of social justice, however insufficient it may be as a general motive for individual conduct. In this spirit, wise old Nestor, in the Iliad (II. 354), considers that it would be disgraceful for the Greeks to think of returning home “before some Greek had slept with the wife of some Trojan,” as a retaliation for the woes that Paris had inflicted on Greek social life, in the matter of Helen. In Dante’s Inferno there are many instances, sometimes ingenious, sometimes only ridiculous, of the application of this principle to retributive punishment in a future life.

Kl. appears to me to have supplied the true key to σκότω φάος ἰσόμοιρον, by comparing the exclamation of Ajax in Sophocles, v. 394—

The gloomy state of the dead in Hades is pictured yet more darkly, by saying that the night, which covers them, is all that serves them for day.

The Hades of the ancients was, as is well remarked by Kl. on this place, in all things an image of this upper world; an observation to be made on the surface of Virgil—

But the parallel most striking to the present passage occurs in the address of Ulysses to Achilles, Odyssey XI. 482—

To which address the hero gave the well-known reply, a reply characteristic at once of his own tremendous energy, and of the Greek views of a future state:—

“Fair birds have fair feathers;” so the Greeks, who had sent no voyages of discovery to the Arctic seas, were free, without contradiction, to place Utopia at the North Pole. (See Herodot. III. 106, quoted by Nitzsh in his comments on the Phœacians, Od. VII. 201-6.) Schütz quotes Pomp. Mela. III. 5—“diutius quam ulli mortalium et beatius vivunt.” Some of these Hyperboreans drank nothing but milk (γαλακτοφάγοι, Hom. Il. XIII. 6), and from this practice the alleged purity of their manners, according to certain modern theories of dietetics, may have arisen.

“Zeus, though his proper region is above, yet, by reason of his perfect concord with his brother in the moral government of the world, exercises authority also in Hades”—Kl. This is one of the many instances to be found in Homer and Æschylus of the Monotheistic principle of an enlightened Deism controlling and overruling the apparent confusion and anarchy of Polytheism.

What the true reading of the corrupt original here is, no one can know; but it may be some satisfaction to the student to note that the different readings of all the emendators bring out substantially the same sense. I give the various translations as follows:—

Neither this “Earth,” nor my “Furies,” can be looked on as part of the text. They are only put in to fill up a gap, where nothing better can be done.