THE EUMENIDES
CHARACTERS:
THE PYTHIAN PRIESTESS
APOLLO
HERMES
ORESTES
THE GHOST OF CLYTEMNESTRA
CHORUS of the Furies, or Eumenides
ATHENE
Twelve Athenian Citizens
A number of Athenian women and girls
Scene: First at Delphi, at the Pythian Oracle, or Temple of Apollo; then at Athens, in the Temple of Athene on the Acropolis.
Scene I: Before the Pythian Oracle. The scene is curtained. THE PYTHIAN PRIESTESS enters below at one side, mounts by steps to the stage, and stands at the centre before the curtain.
PRIESTESS: First in my prayer of all the gods I reverence
Earth, first author of prophecy; Earth’s daughter then,
Themis; who, legend tells, next ruled this oracle;
The third enthroned, succeeding by good-will, not force,
Phoebe – herself another Titan child of Earth –
In turn gave her prerogative, a birthday gift,
To her young namesake, Phoebus. From the Delian lake
Ringed with high rocks he came to the craft-crowded shores
Of Pallas; thence to Parnassus and this holy seat.
And in his progress bands of Attic worshippers,
Hephaestus’ sons, builders of roads, escorted him,
Taming for pilgrims’ passage ground untamed before.
So Phoebus came to Delphi; people and king alike
Paid him high honour; Zeus endowed his prescient mind
With heavenly wisdom, and established him as fourth
Successor to this throne, whence he, as Loxias,
Interprets to mankind his father’s word and will.
These first my piety invokes. And I salute
With holy words Pallas Pronaia, and the nymphs
Of the Corycian cave, where, in enchanted shelter,
Birds love to nest; where Bromius too makes his home,
Since, once, he led his frenzied Bacchic army forth
To tear King Pentheus as a hare is torn by hounds.
Fountains of Pleistos, Delphi’s river, next I name;
Poseidon; and, last, the supreme Fulfiller, Zeus.
Now on the seat of prophecy I take my place;
Heaven grant that this day’s service far surpass in blessing
All former days! Let any Greek enquirer here,
As custom is, cast lots for precedence, and come.
As Phoebus guides my lips, so I pronounce his truth.
The PRIESTESS goes in between the curtains. After a short pause, her voice is heard in a cry of terror, and she reappears.
A fearful sight, a thing appalling to describe,
Drives me staggering and helpless out of Apollo’s house.
My legs give way and tremble; hands must hold me up.
How useless fear makes an old woman – like a child!
As I went towards the inner shrine, all hung with wreaths,
There on the navel-stone a suppliant was sitting,
A man polluted – blood still wet on hands that grasp
A reeking sword; yet on his head fresh olive-leaves,
Twined thickly with white wool, show heedful reverence.
So far I can speak plainly. But beside this man,
Stretched upon benches, sleeping, a strange company
Of women – no, not women; Gorgons – yet, again,
They are not like Gorgons. Harpies I saw painted once,
Monsters robbing King Phineus of bis feast; but these
Are wingless, black, utterly loathsome; their vile breath
Vents in repulsive snoring; from their eyes distils
A filthy rheum; their garb is wickedness to wear
In sight of the gods’ statues or in human homes.
They are creatures of no race I ever saw; no land
Could breed them and not bear the curse of God and man.
I will go. Loxias is powerful, and this temple’s his.
Men’s tainted walls wait for his purifying power:
Let him – Priest, Prophet, Healer – now protect his own.
The PRIESTESS returns by the way that she came. The curtains open, revealing the Temple of Apollo. In the centre ORESTES sits by a rough stone altar – the ‘Navel-Stone’. Beside him stand APOLLO and HERMES. Around them, asleep on benches or on the floor, lie the twelve FURIES.
APOLLO: I will not fail you. Near at hand or far away,
I am your constant guardian and your enemies’ dread.
Now for this one brief hour you see these ragers quiet,
These hunters caught in sleep; these ancient, ageless hags,
Whose presence neither god nor man nor beast can bear.
For sake of evil they were born; and evil is
The dark they dwell in, subterranean Tartarus;
Beings abhorred by men and by Olympian gods.
Then fly, and do not weaken. They will hound you yet
Through seas and island cities, over the vast continent,
Wherever the earth’s face is hard with wanderers’ feet.
Keep courage firm”; nurse your appointed pain; and go
To Athens, city of Pallas. There with suppliant hands
Embrace her ancient image, and implore her help.
There I will set you judges; and with soothing pleas
I, who first bade you take your mother’s life, will bring
From all your painful days final deliverance.
ORESTES: Apollo, Lord! Knowledge of justice and of right
Is yours: let will prompt knowledge, and let care fulfil.
Your strength shall be my surety for your promised help.
APOLLO: Remember, let no fear conquer your steadfast heart.
Go, Hermes, brother, as his guardian, and fulfil
Your titular office. His protection is my care:
Shepherd him well. The outlaw has his sanctity,
Which Zeus regards, giving him Fortune for his guide.
HERMES leads ORESTES away; APOLLO retires into the temple.
THE GHOST OF CLYTEMNESTRA appears.
CLYTEMNESTRA: Will you still sleep? Oh, wake! What use are you, asleep?
Since you so slight me, I am abused unceasingly
Among the other dead, for him I killed, and wander
Despised and shamed. I tell you truly, by them all
I am held guilty and condemned; while, for the blow
My own son struck, no angry voice protests. See here,
This wound under my heart, and say whose was the sword!
Look! For though daylight cannot see beyond the flesh,
The mind in sleep has eyes. Often for you my hand
Has poured wineless libations, sober soothing draughts;
Upon my hearth in midnight ritual – an hour
Given to no other god – banquets have burned for you.
Now all my gifts I see spurned underfoot; while he,
Like a fawn lightly leaping out of the sprung snare,
Has escaped away and gone, and mocks you to your shame.
Listen, you Powers of the deep earth, and understand!
Listen, I entreat you, for my plea is life and death!
Listen! In your dream I, Clytemnestra, call to you!
The CHORUS mutter restlessly, as dogs growl in sleep.
CLYTEMNESTRA: You murmur; but your prey has vanished out of sight.
His friends are not like mine: they save him, while you sleep.
Again the CHORUS mutter.
CLYTEMNESTRA: Will you not wake? Does grief not touch you? He has gone!
Orestes, who killed me, his mother, has escaped!
More excited cries come from the CHORUS.
CLYTEMNESTRA: Still crying, still asleep? Quick now, wake and stand up!
To work! Evil’s your province – evil waits for you!
The cries continue.
CLYTEMNESTRA: Sleep and fatigue, two apt accomplices, have drained
All force from the she-dragons’ rage.
CHORUS [with still louder cries:] After him! Catch him, catch him, catch him, catch him, catch him! Take care, take care!
CLYTEMNESTRA: In dreams you hunt your prey, baying like hounds whose thought
Will never rest; but what of deeds ? Has weariness
Conquered and softened you with sleep, till you forget
My pain? Rise up, torment his heart with just reproach;
For whetted words goad the quick conscience. Storm at him
With hot blood-reeking blasts blown from your vaporous womb,
Wither his hope of respite, hunt him to the death!
As the CHORUS awake, the GHOST OF CLYTEMNESTRA vanishes.
CHORUS: Come, wake; wake you too; wake each other; come, wake all!
Shake off your sleep, stand up. What could that warning mean?
They see that ORESTES has gone.
What has happened? Furies, we are foiled!
Who were ever mocked as we? Who would bear such mockery?
Sleepless labour spent in vain!
Duty flouted, privilege despoiled!
See the empty snare – our prey
Vanished, fled, and free again!
While we slept our right was stolen away.
Phoebus, son of Zeus, are you a god?
You set honesty aside;
You, the younger, ride roughshod
Over elder Powers; you have defied
Justice for your altar’s sake,
Saved a godless matricide
From appointed pain, to make
Mockery of motherhood:
Who can call such crooked dealing good?
Out of my dreams I heard
A sharp accusing word
That struck me to the deep heart’s core,
As on an uphill road
The driver’s firm-gripped goad
Strikes till the flesh is sore.
I feel the common scourge, Remorse,
Wielded in Fate’s strong hand,
Whose cold and crushing force
None can withstand.
The fault’s not ours. It lies
With younger gods who rise
In place of those that ruled before;
From stool to crown their throne
Is stained with gore.
See, how Earth’s central sacred stone
Has taken for its own
A grim pollution Justice must abhor!
Phoebus, for all your prophet’s skill,
Your holy wisdom, by this deed
You of your own unprompted will
Have sullied your own altar’s flames,
Infringing laws by gods decreed
And Destiny’s primeval claims,
To grant some mortal’s passing need.
Fate’s enemy, my enemy too,
Shall not give sanctuary to sin.
Orestes is accurst, and he,
Though he seek refuge with the dead,
Shall find no place where guilt is free;
Soon there shall come, of his own kin,
A like Avenger, to renew
Fate’s curse upon his branded head.
Enter APOLLO from within the temple, carrying his how and quiver.
APOLLO: Out of this temple! I command you, go at once!
Quit my prophetic sanctuary, lest you feel
The gleaming snake that darts winged from my golden bow,
And painfully spew forth the black foam that you suck
From the sour flesh of murderers. What place have you
Within these walls? Some pit of punishments, where heads
Are severed, eyes torn out, throats cut, manhood unmanned,
Some hell of mannings, mutilations, stonings, where
Bodies impaled on stakes melt the mute air with groans –
Your place is there! Such are the feasts you love, for which
Heaven loathes you. Is not this the truth, proclaimed in you
By every feature? Find some blood-gorged lion’s den,
There make your seemly dwelling, and no more rub off
Your foulness in this house of prayer and prophecy.
Away! Graze other fields, you flock unshepherded!
No god loves such as you!
CHORUS: Now is my turn to speak.
You, Lord Apollo, you alone are answerable
To your own charge; what’s done’s your doing, first to last.
APOLLO: How’s this? So far inform me.
CHORUS: It was your oracle
That bade him take his mother’s life.
APOLLO: My oracle
Bade him avenge his father.
CHORUS: With his hand still red
He found you his protector.
APOLLO: I commanded him
To fly for refuge to this temple.
CHORUS: We are here
As his appointed escort. Why revile us then?
APOLLO: Your presence here is outrage.
CHORUS: But it is no less
Our duty and our office.
APOLLO: A high office, this.
Come, with due pride proclaim it.
CHORUS: We hound matricides
To exile.
APOLLO: And when wife kills husband, what of her?
CHORUS: They are not kin; therefore such blood is not self-spilt.
APOLLO: Then you dishonour and annul the marriage-bond
Of Zeus and Hera, that confirms all marriage-bonds;
And by your argument the sweetest source of joy
To mortals, Aphrodite, falls into contempt.
Marriage, that joins two persons in Fate’s ordinance,
Guarded by justice, stands more sacred than an oath.
If, then, to one that kills the other you show grace,
All penalty remitted, and all wrath renounced,
You are unjust to persecute Orestes’ life.
His crime, I know, you take most grievously to heart;
While for his mother’s you show open leniency.
Pallas herself shall hear this case, and judge our pleas.
CHORUS: I tell you, I will never let Orestes go.
APOLLO: Pursue him, then; take all the pains you wish.
CHORUS: Phoebus,
You shall not, even in word, curtail my privilege.
APOLLO: Not as a gift would I accept your privilege.
CHORUS: You are called great beside the throne of Zeus.
But I Will trace him by his mother’s blood, hound him to earth,
And sue for justice on him.
APOLLO: He is my suppliant;
And I will stand by him and save him if I can.
Fierce anger stirs to action both in heaven and earth
If I forsake the guilty man who turned to me.
While APOLLO speaks the CHORUS have begun to leave the stage; APOLLO withdraws into the temple.
Scene II: The Temple of Athene in Athens, with a statue of the goddess before it. ORESTES enters and kneels before the statue.
ORESTES: Divine Athene! At Apollo’s word I come.
Receive me graciously; though still a fugitive,
Not unclean now. Long wandering through tribes and towns
Has cleansed my bloodstained hand, blunted the edge of guilt;
Welcoming homes have rubbed the foulness from my soul.
Now, my long journey over land and sea fulfilled,
Faithful to Loxias’ bidding and his oracle,
Goddess, I approach your house, your holy effigy.
Here I will stay, to know the issue of my trial.
The CHORUS enter, following the track of ORESTES.
CHORUS: This is his trail, I have it clear. Come, follow, where
The silent finger of pollution points the way.
Still by the scent we track him, as hounds track a deer
Wounded and bleeding. As a shepherd step by step
Searches a mountain, so have we searched every land,
Flown wingless over sea, swifter than sailing ships,
Always pursuing, till we gasp with weariness.
Now he is here, I know, crouched in some hiding-place.
The scent of mortal murder laughs in my nostrils –
Look there! See him! See him at last!
Watch every doorway, lest the murderer
Steal away and escape unpunished!
Once again he has found protection;
Closely clinging to the immortal
Goddess’s image, thus he offers
His life for trial, for the deed of his hand.
No hope can rescue him.
A mother’s blood once spilt
None can restore again;
In dust the fresh stream lies,
A parched, accusing stain.
You shall, for your soul’s guilt,
Give us your blood to drink
Red from the living limb,
Our dear and deadly food,
Our labour’s lawful prize.
Yes, while you still draw breath,
Your withered flesh shall sink,
In payment for her blood,
In penance for her pain,
Down to the world of death.
Mark this: not only you,
But every mortal soul
Whose pride has once transgressed
The law of reverence due
To parent, god, or guest,
Shall pay sin’s just, inexorable toll.
Deep in the nether sky
Death rules the ways of man
With stern and strong control;
And there is none who can,
By any force or art,
Elude Death’s watchful eye
Or his recording heart.
ORESTES: Long taught by pain, learned in cleansing ritual,
I know when speech is lawful, when to hold my tongue;
And in this case a wise instructor bade me speak.
The blood upon my hands is drowsed and quenched; the stain
Of matricide washed clean, exorcized while yet fresh
At Phoebus’ hearth with purgative blood-offerings.
It would take long to tell of all the friends whose homes
And hands have given me welcome without harm or taint.
And now from holy lips, with pure words, I invoke
Athene, ruler of this country, to my aid.
Thus she shall gain, without one blow, by just compact,
Myself, my country, and my Argive citizens
In loyal, lasting, unreserved confederacy.
Whether by the Tritonian lake, her Libyan home,
She stands – at rest, at war, a bulwark to her friends;
Or with a warrior’s eye in bold command surveys
The Phlegraean plain – a god can hear me – let her now
Come in divine authority and save my soul!
CHORUS: Neither Apollo nor Athene can have power
To save you. Lost, cast off, the very taste of joy
Forgotten, you will live the prey of vampire Powers,
A pale ghost. Do you spurn my words in silence – you,
To me assigned and dedicated? There’s no need
To await knife and altar, for your living flesh
Shall feast us. Hear this song that binds you to our will.
Come, Furies, our resolve is set;
Let mime and measure tread their course,
That none who feels the maddening force
Of our dread music may forget
How all the varying fates that bind
Men’s lives are by our will assigned.
We hold our judgement just and true:
The man whose open hands are pure
Anger of ours shall not pursue;
He lives untroubled and secure.
But when a sinner, such as he,
Burdened with blood so foully shed,
Covers his guilty hands for shame,
Then, bearing witness for the dead,
We at his judgement stand to claim
The price of blood unyieldingly.
Hear me, O brooding Night,
My mother, from whose womb
I came for punishment
Of all who live in light
Or grope beyond the tomb.
Phoebus would steal away
My office and my right,
My trapped and cowering prey
Whose anguish must atone
For sin so violent,
For blood that bore his own.
Now, by the altar,
Over the victim
Ripe for our ritual,
Sing this enchantment:
A song without music,
A sword in the senses,
A storm in the heart
And afire in the brain;
A clamour of Furies
To paralyse reason,
A tune full of terror,
A drought in the soul!
Fate, whose all-powerful sway
Weaves out the world’s design,
Decreed for evermore
This portion to be mine:
When for some murderous blow
The pangs of guilt surprise
Man’s folly, from that day
Close at his side we go
Until the day he dies;
And Hope, that says, ‘Below
The earth is respite’, lies.
Now, by the altar,
Over the victim
Ripe for our ritual,
Sing this enchantment:
A song without music,
A sword in the senses,
A storm in the heart
And afire in the brain:
A clamour of Furies
To paralyse reason,
A tune full of terror,
A drought in the soul!
The day we were begotten
These rights to us were sealed,
That against sin of mortals
Our hand should be revealed.
Immortals need. not fear us;
Our feasts no god can share;
When white robes throng the temples
The darkness that we wear
Forbids our presence there.
Our chosen part is torment,
And great ones’ overthrow;
When War turns home, and kinsman
Makes kinsman’s life-blood flow,
Then in his strength we hunt him
And lay his glory low.
Our zeal assumes this office,
Our care and pains pursue it,
That gods may be exempt;
Zeus, free from taint or question,
Repels our gory presence
With loathing and contempt.
For him our dreaded footfall,
Launched from the height, leaps downward
With keen and crushing force,
Till helpless guilt, despairing,
Falls in his headlong course.
And so men’s glories, towering to the sky,
Soon at our black-robed onset, the advance
Of vengeance beating in our fateful dance,
Fade under earth, and in dishonour die.
And in man’s downfall his own hand’s pollution,
Hovering round him like a misty gloom,
Pours deeper darkness on his mind’s confusion,
While groaning ghosts intone his house’s doom.
For Law lives on; and we, Law’s holy few,
Law’s living record of all evil done,
Resourceful and accomplishing, pursue
Our hateful task unhonoured; and no prayer
Makes us relent. All other gods must shun
The sunless glimmer of those paths we strew
With rocks, that quick and dead may stumble there.
So, Heaven’s firm ordinance has now been told,
The task which Fate immutably assigned
To our devotion. Who will then withhold
Due fear and reverence? Though our dwelling lie
In subterranean caverns of the blind,
Our ancient privilege none dares deny.
Enter ATHENE from her temple.
ATHENE: From far away I heard my name loudly invoked,
Beside Scamander, where I went in haste to claim
Land that the Achaean chieftains had allotted me,
An ample gift chosen from plunder won in war
And given entire to Theseus’ sons to hold for ever.
And quickly, without toil of foot or wing, I came
Borne on my strident aegis, with the galloping winds
Harnessed before me.
This strange company I see
Here in my precincts moves me – not indeed to fear,
But to amazement. Who are you? I speak to all –
This man who clasps my statue as a suppliant,
And you – beings like none I know that earth brings forth,
Either of those seen among gods and goddesses –
Nor yet are you like mortals. – But I am unjust;
Reason forbids to slander others unprovoked.
CHORUS: Daughter of Zeus, you shall hear all, and briefly told.
We are the children of primeval Night; we bear
The name of Curses in our home deep under earth.
ATHENE: Your race I know, also your names in common speech.
CHORUS: Maybe. Next you shall hear our office.
ATHENE: Willingly;
Therefore be plain in speech.
CHORUS: We drive out murderers.
ATHENE: And where can such a fugitive find rest and peace?
CHORUS: Only where joy and comfort are not current coin.
ATHENE: And to such end your hue and cry pursues this man?
CHORUS: Yes. He chose to become his mother’s murderer.
ATHENE: Was there not some compulsive power whose wrath he feared?
CHORUS: And who has power to goad a man to matricide?
ATHENE: One plea is now presented; two are to be heard.
CHORUS: But he would ask no oath from us, nor swear himself.
ATHENE: You seek the form of justice, more than to be just.
CHORUS: How so? Instruct me; you do not lack subtlety.
ATHENE: Injustice must not win the verdict by mere oaths.
CHORUS: Then try him fairly, and give judgement on the facts.
ATHENE: You grant to me final decision in this case?
CHORUS: We do; we trust your wisdom, and your father’s name.
ATHENE: It is your turn to speak, my friend. What will you say?
Your faith in justice sent you to my statue here,
A holy suppliant, like Ixion, at my hearth;
Therefore tell first your country, birth, and history;
Then answer to this charge; and let your speech be plain.
ORESTES: Divine Athene, first from your last words I will
Set one great doubt at rest. My hand is not unclean;
I do not sit polluted at your statue’s foot.
And I will tell you weighty evidence of this.
To a blood-guilty man the law forbids all speech,
Till blood-drops from some suckling beast are cast on him
By one whose office is to purge from homicide.
Long since, these rituals were all performed for me
In other temples; beasts were slain, pure water poured.
That question, then, I thus dispose of. For my birth,
I am of Argos, and you know my father well,
For you and he joined league to make the city of Troy
No city – Agamemnon, leader of the warlike fleet.
When he came home, he met a shameful death, murdered
By my black-hearted mother, who enfolded him
In a cunning snare, which now bears witness to the stroke
That felled my father as he cleansed the stains of war.
When, later, after years of exile I came home,
I killed my mother – I will not deny it – in
Just retribution for my father, whom I loved.
For this Apollo equally is answerable;
He told me of the tortures that would sear my soul
If I neglected vengeance on the murderers.
Whether or no I acted rightly is for you To judge;
I will accept your word, for life or death.
ATHENE: This is too grave a cause for any man to judge;
Nor, in a case of murder, is it right that I
Should by my judgement let the wrath of Justice loose;
The less so, since you came after full cleansing rites
As a pure suppliant to my temple, and since I
And Athens grant you sanctuary and welcome you.
But your accusers’ claims are not to be dismissed;
And, should they fail to win their case, their anger falls
Like death and terror, blight and poison, on my land.
Hence my dilemma – to accept, or banish them;
And either course is peril and perplexity.
Then, since decision falls to me, I will choose out
Jurors of homicide, for a perpetual court,
In whom I vest my judgement. Bring your evidence,
Call witnesses, whose oaths shall strengthen Justice’ hand.
I’ll pick my wisest citizens, and bring them here
Sworn to give sentence with integrity and truth.
Exit ATHENE, to the city; ORESTES retires into the temple.
CHORUS: Now true and false must change their names,
Old law and justice be reversed,
If new authority put first
The wrongful right this murderer claims.
His act shall now to every man
Commend the easy path of crime;
And parents’ blood in after time
Shall gleam on children’s hands accurst,
To pay the debt this day began.
The Furies’ watchful rage shall sleep,
No anger hunt the guilty soul;
Murder shall flout my lost control;
While neighbours talk of wrongs, and weep,
And ask how flesh can more endure,
Or stem the swelling flood of ill,
Or hope for better times – while still
Each wretch commends some useless cure.
When stunned by hard misfortune,
On us let no man call,
Chanting the old entreaties,
‘Come, swift, avenging Furies!
O sword of Justice, fell!’
Some parent, struck or slighted,
In loud and vain distress
Often will cry, a stranger
To the new wickedness,
Which soon shall reach and ruin
The house of Righteousness.
For fear, enforcing goodness,
Must somewhere reign enthroned,
And watch men’s ways, and teach them,
Through self-inflicted sorrow,
That sin is not condoned.
What man, no longer nursing
Fear at his heart – what city,
Once fear is cast away,
Will bow the knee to Justice
As in an earlier day?
Seek neither licence, where no laws compel,
Nor slavery beneath a tyrant’s rod;
Where liberty and rule are balanced well
Success will follow as the gift of God,
Though how He will direct it none can tell.
This truth is apt: the heart’s impiety
Begets after its kind the hand’s misdeed;
But when the heart is sound, from it proceed
Blessings long prayed for, and prosperity.
This above all I bid you: reverence
Justice’ high altar; let no sight of gain
Tempt you to spurn with godless insolence
This sanctity. Cause and effect remain;
From sin flows sorrow. Then let man hold dear
His parents’ life and honour, and revere
Each passing guest with welcome and defence.
Wealth and honour will attend
Love of goodness gladly held;
Virtue free and uncompelled
Fears no harsh untimely end.
But the man whose stubborn soul
Steers a rash defiant course
Flouting every law’s control –
He in time will furl perforce,
Late repenting, when the blast
Shreds his sail and snaps his mast.
Helpless in the swirling sea,
Struggling hands and anguished cries
Plead with the unheeding skies;
And God smiles to note that he,
Changing folly for despair,
Boasts for fear, will not escape
Shipwreck on the stormy cape;
But, his former blessings thrown
On the reef of justice, there
Perishes unwept, unknown.
ATHENE returns, bringing with her twelve Athenian citizens.
APOLLO comes from the temple, leading ORESTES.
ATHENE: Summon the city, herald, and proclaim the cause;
Let the Tyrrhenian trumpet, filled with mortal breath,
Crack the broad heaven, and shake Athens with its voice.
And while the council-chamber fills, let citizens
And jurors all in silence recognize this court
Which I ordain today in perpetuity,
That now and always justice may be well discerned.
CHORUS: Divine Apollo, handle what belongs to you.
Tell us, what right have you to meddle in this case?
APOLLO: I came to answer that in evidence. This man
Has my protection by the law of suppliants.
I cleansed him from this murder; I am here to be
His advocate, since I am answerable for
The stroke that killed his mother. Pallas, introduce
This case, and so conduct it as your wisdom prompts.
ATHENE: The case is open. [To the LEADER OF THE CHORUS] Since you are the accuser, speak.
The court must first hear a full statement of the charge.
CHORUS: Though we are many, few words will suffice. [To ORESTES] And you
Answer our questions, point for point. First, did you kill
Your mother?
ORESTES: I cannot deny it. Yes, I did.
CHORUS: Good; the first round is ours.
ORESTES: It is too soon to boast:
I am not beaten.
CHORUS: You must tell us, none the less,
How you dispatched her.
ORESTES: With a sword I pierced her heart.
CHORUS: On whose persuasion, whose advice?
ORESTES: Apollo’s. He
Is witness that his oracle commanded me.
CHORUS: The god of prophecy commanded matricide ?
ORESTES: Yes; and he has not failed me from that day to this.
CHORUS: If today’s vote condemns you, you will change your words.
ORESTES: I trust him. My dead father too will send me help.
CHORUS: Yes, trust the dead now: your hand struck your mother dead.
ORESTES: She was twice guilty, twice condemned.
CHORUS: How so? Instruct
The court.
ORESTES: She killed her husband, and my father too.
CHORUS: Her death absolved her; you still live.
ORESTES: But why was she
Not punished by you while she lived?
CHORUS: The man she killed
Was not of her own blood.
ORESTES: But I am of my mother’s?
CHORUS: Vile wretch! Did she not nourish you in her own womb?
Do you disown your mother’s blood, which is your own?
ORESTES: Apollo, now give evidence. Make plain to me
If I was right to kill her. That I struck the blow
Is true, I own it. But was murder justified?
Expound this point, and show me how to plead my cause.
APOLLO: To you, august court of Athene, I will speak
Justly and truly, as befits a prophet-god.
I never yet, from my oracular seat, pronounced
For man, woman, or city any word which Zeus,
The Olympian Father, had not formally prescribed.
I bid you, then, mark first the force of justice here;
But next, even more, regard my father’s will. No oath
Can have more force than Zeus, whose name has sanctioned it.
CHORUS: Then Zeus, you say, was author of this oracle
You gave Orestes – that his mother’s claims should count
For nothing, till he had avenged his father’s death?
APOLLO: Zeus so ordained, and Zeus was right. For their two deaths
Are in no way to be compared. He was a king
Wielding an honoured sceptre by divine command.
A woman killed him: such death might be honourable –
In battle, dealt by an arrow from an Amazon’s bow.
But you shall hear, Pallas and you who judge this case,
How Clytemnestra killed her husband. When he came
Home from the war, for the most part successful, and
Performed his ritual cleansing, she stood by his side;
The ritual ended, as he left the silver bath,
She threw on him a robe’s interminable folds,
Wrapped, fettered him in an embroidered gown, and struck.
Such, jurors, was the grim end of this king, whose look
Was majesty, whose word commanded men and fleets.
Such was his wife who killed him – such that none of you,
Who sit to try Orestes, hears her crime unmoved.
CHORUS: Zeus rates a father’s death the higher, by your account.
Yet Zeus, when his own father Cronos became old,
Bound him with chains. Is there not contradiction here?
Observe this, jurors, on your oath.
APOLLO: Execrable hags,
Outcasts of heaven! Chains may be loosed, with little harm,
And many ways to mend it. But when blood of man
Sinks in the thirsty dust, the life once lost can live
No more. For death alone my father has ordained
No healing spell; all other things his effortless
And sovereign power casts down or raises up at will.
CHORUS: You plead for his acquittal: have you asked yourself
How one who poured out on the ground his mother’s blood
Will live henceforth in Argos, in his father’s house?
Shall he at public altars share in sacrifice ?
Shall holy water lave his hands at tribal feasts?
APOLLO: This too I answer; mark the truth of what I say.
The mother is not the true parent of the child
Which is called hers. She is a nurse who tends the growth
Of young seed planted by its true parent, the male.
So, if Fate spares the child, she keeps it, as one might
Keep for some friend a growing plant. And of this truth,
That father without mother may beget, we have
Present, as proof, the daughter of Olympian Zeus:
One never nursed in the dark cradle of the womb;
Yet such a being no god will beget again.
Pallas, I sent this man to supplicate your hearth;
He is but one of many gifts my providence
Will send, to make your city and your people great.
He and his city, Pallas, shall for ever be
Your faithful allies; their posterity shall hold
This pledge their dear possession for all future years.
ATHENE: Shall I now bid the jurors cast each man his vote
According to his conscience? Are both pleas complete?
APOLLO: I have shot every shaft I had; and wait to hear The jurors’ verdict.
ATHENE [to the CHORUS]: Will this course content you too?
CHORUS[to the jurors:] You have heard them and us. Now, jurors, as you cast
Your votes, let reverence for your oath guide every heart.
ATHENE: Citizens of Athens! As you now try this first case
Of bloodshed, hear the constitution of your court.
From this day forward this judicial council shall
For Aegeus’ race hear every trial of homicide.
Here shall be their perpetual seat, on Ares’ Hill.
Here, when the Amazon army came to take revenge
On Theseus, they set up their camp, and fortified
This place with walls and towers as a new fortress-town
To attack the old, and sacrificed to Ares; whence
This rock is named Areopagus. Here, day and night,
Shall Awe, and Fear, Awe’s brother, check my citizens
From all misdoing, while they keep my laws unchanged.
If you befoul a shining spring with an impure
And muddy dribble, you will come in vain to drink.
So, do not taint pure laws with new expediency.
Guard well and reverence that form of government
Which will eschew alike licence and slavery;
And from your polity do not wholly banish fear.
For what man living, freed from fear, will still be just?
Hold fast such upright fear of the law’s sanctity,
And you will have a bulwark of your city’s strength,
A rampart round your soil, such as no other race
Possesses between Scythia and the Peloponnese.
I here establish you a court inviolable,
Holy, and quick to anger, keeping faithful watch
That men may sleep in peace.
I have thus far extended
My exhortation, that Athens may remember it.
Now give your votes in uprightness, and judge this cause
With reverence for your oath. I have no more to say.
During the following dialogue the jurors rise in turn to rote. There are two urns, one of which is ‘operative’, the other ‘inoperative’. Each juror has two pebbles, a black and a white. Into the ’operative’ urn each drops a white pebble for acquittal or a black one for condemnation; then disposes of the other pebble in the other urn, and returns to his seat.
CHORUS: I too advise you: do not act in scorn of us,
Your country’s visitants, or you will find us harsh.
APOLLO: I bid you fear my oracle and the word of Zeus,
And not make both unfruitful.
CHORUS [to APOLLO: Deeds of blood are not
For your protection. Henceforth you will prophesy
From a polluted shrine.
APOLLO: Then what of Zeus? Did he
Suffer pollution, when he willed to purify
His suppliant Ixion, the first murderer?
CHORUS: You argue; but if we should fail to win this case
We will infest the land with plagues unspeakable.
APOLLO: You have as little honour amongst elder gods
As amongst us, the younger. I shall win this case.
CHORUS: This recalls your behaviour in Admetus’ house:
You bribed the Fates to let a mortal live again.
APOLLO: Was it not right to help a man who worshipped me ?
Undoubtedly; besides, Admetus’ need was great.
CHORUS: You mocked primeval goddesses with wine, to break
The ancient dispensation.
APOLLO: Disappointment soon
Will make you vomit all your poison – harmlessly.
CHORUS: You think your youth may tread my age into the dust.
When we have heard the verdict will be soon enough
To launch my anger against Athens. I will wait.
ATHENE: My duty is to give the final vote. When yours
Are counted, mine goes to uphold Orestes’ plea.
No mother gave me birth. Therefore the father’s claim
And male supremacy in all things, save to give
Myself in marriage, wins my whole heart’s loyalty.
Therefore a woman’s death, who killed her husband, is,
I judge, outweighed in grievousness by his. And so
Orestes, if the votes are equal, wins the case.
Let those appointed bring the urns and count the votes.
Two of the jurors obey her.
ORESTES: O bright Apollo, what verdict will be revealed?
CHORUS: O Mother Night, O Darkness, look on us!
ORESTES: To me
This moment brings despair and death, or life and hope.
CHORUS: To us increase of honour, or disgrace and loss.
APOLLO: The votes are out. Count scrupulously, citizens;
Justice is holy; in your division worship her.
Loss of a single vote is loss of happiness;
And one vote gained will raise to life a fallen house.
The votes are brought to ATHENE. The black and the white pebbles are even in number. ATHENE adds hers to the white.
ATHENE: Orestes is acquitted of blood-guiltiness.
The votes are even.
ORESTES: Pallas, Saviour of my house!
I was an exile; you have brought me home again.
Hellas can say of me, ‘He is an Argive, as
He used to be, and holds his father’s house and wealth
By grace of Pallas and Apollo, and of Zeus
The Saviour, the Fulfiller.’ Zeus has shown respect
For my dead father, seeing my mother’s advocates,
And has delivered me.
So now, before I turn
My steps to Argos, hear the oath I make to you,
Your country, and your people, for all future time:
No Argive king shall ever against Attica
Lead his embattled spears. If any man transgress
This oath of mine, I will myself rise from the grave
In vengeance, to perplex him with disastrous loss,
Clogging his marches with ill omens and despair,
Till all his soldiers curse the day they left their homes.
But if my oath is kept, and my posterity
Prove staunch and faithful allies to the Athenian State,
They shall enjoy my blessing. So, Pallas, farewell;
Farewell, citizens of Athens! May each struggle bring
Death to your foes, to you success and victory!
Exeunt APOLLO and ORESTES
CHORUS: The old is trampled by the new!
Curse on you younger gods who override
The ancient laws and rob me of my due!
Now to appease the honour you reviled
Vengeance shall fester till my full heart pours
Over this land on every side
Anger for insult, poison for my pain –
Yes, poison from whose killing rain
A sterile blight shall creep on plant and child
And pock the earth’s face with infectious sores.
Why should I weep? Hear, Justice, what I do!
Soon Athens in despair shall rue
Her rashness and her mockery.
Daughters of Night and Sorrow, come with me,
Feed on dishonour, on revenge to be!
ATHENE: Let me entreat you soften your indignant grief.
Fair trial, fair judgement, ended in an even vote,
Which brings to you neither dishonour nor defeat.
Evidence which issued clear as day from Zeus himself,
Brought by the god who bade Orestes strike the blow,
Could not but save him from all harmful consequence.
Then quench your anger; let not indignation rain
Pestilence on our soil, corroding every seed
Till the whole land is sterile desert. In return
I promise you, here in this upright land, a home,
And bright thrones in a holy cavern, where you shall
Receive for ever homage from our citizens.
CHORUS: The old is trampled by the new !
Curse on you younger gods who override
The ancient laws and rob me of my due!
Now to appease the honour you reviled
Vengeance shall fester till my full heart pours
Over this land on every side
Anger for insult, poison for my pain –
Yes, poison from whose killing rain
A sterile blight shall creep on plant and child
And pock the earth’s face with infectious sores.
Why should I weep? Hear, Justice, what I do!
Soon Athens in despair shall rue
Her rashness and her mockery.
Daughters of Night and Sorrow, come with me,
Feed on dishonour, on revenge to be!
ATHENE: None has dishonoured you. Why should immortal rage
Infect the fields of mortal men with pestilence?
You call on Justice: I rely on Zeus. What need
To reason further? I alone among the gods
Know the sealed chamber’s keys where Zeus’s thunderbolt
Is stored. But force is needless; let persuasion check
The fruit of foolish threats before it fells to spread
Plague and disaster. Calm this black and swelling wrath;
Honour and dignity await you: share with me
A home in Athens. You will yet applaud my words,
When Attica’s wide fields bring you their first fruit gifts,
When sacrifice for childbirth and for marriage-vows
Is made upon your altars in perpetual right.
CHORUS: O shame and grief, that such a fate
Should fall to me, whose wisdom grew
Within me when the world was new!
Must I accept, beneath the ground,
A nameless and abhorred estate?
O ancient Earth, see my disgrace!
While anguish runs through flesh and bone
My breathless rage breaks every bound.
O Night, my mother, hear me groan,
Outwitted, scorned and overthrown
By new gods from my ancient place!
ATHENE: Your greater age claims my forbearance, as it gives
Wisdom fer greater than my own; though to me too
Zeus gave discernment. And I tell you this: if you
Now make some other land your home, your thoughts will turn
With deep desire to Athens. For the coming age
Shall see her glory growing yet more glorious.
You, here possessing an exalted sanctuary
Beside Erechtheus’ temple, shall receive from all,
Both men and women, honours which no other land Could equal.
Therefore do not cast upon my fields
Whetstones of murder, to corrupt our young men’s hearts
And make them mad with passions not infused by wine;
Nor plant in them the temper of the mutinous cock,
To set within my city’s walls man against man
With self-destructive boldness, kin defying kin.
Let war be with the stranger, at the stranger’s gate;
There let men fall in love with glory; but at home
Let no cocks fight.
Then, goddesses, I offer you
A home in Athens, where the gods most love to live,
Where gifts and honours shall deserve your kind good-will.
CHORUS: O shame and grief, that such a fate
Should fall to me, whose wisdom grew
Within me when the world was new!
Must I accept, beneath the ground,
A nameless and abhorred estate?
O ancient Earth, see my disgrace!
While anguish runs through flesh and bone
My breathless rage breaks every bound.
O Night, my mother, hear me groan,
Outwitted, scorned and overthrown
By new gods from my ancient place!
ATHENE: I will not weary in offering you friendly words.
You shall not say that you, an elder deity,
Were by a younger Power and by these citizens
Driven dishonoured, homeless, from this land.
But if Holy Persuasion bids your heart respect my words
And welcome soothing eloquence, then stay with us!
If you refuse, be sure you will have no just cause
To turn with spleen and malice on our peopled streets.
A great and lasting heritage awaits you here;
Thus honour is assured and justice satisfied.
CHORUS: What place, divine Athene, do you offer me?
ATHENE: One free from all regret. Acceptance lies with you.
CHORUS: Say I accept it: what prerogatives are mine ?
ATHENE: Such that no house can thrive without your favour sought.
CHORUS: You promise to secure for me this place and power?
ATHENE: I will protect and prosper all who reverence you.
CHORUS: Your word is pledged for ever?
ATHENE: Do I need to promise
What I will not perform?
CHORUS: My anger melts. Your words
Move me.
ATHENE: In Athens you are in the midst of friends.
CHORUS: What blessings would you have me call upon this land?
ATHENE: Such as bring victory untroubled with regret;
Blessing from earth and sea and sky; blessing that breathes
In wind and sunlight through the land; that beast and field
Enrich my people with unwearied fruitfulness,
And armies of brave sons be born to guard their peace.
Sternly weed out the impious, lest their rankness choke
The flower of goodness. I would not have just men’s lives
Troubled with villainy. These blessings you must bring;
I will conduct their valiant arms to victory,
And make the name of Athens honoured through the world.
CHORUS: I will consent to share Athene’s home,
To bless this fortress of the immortal Powers
Which mighty Zeus and Ares
Chose for their habitation,
The pride and glory of the gods of Greece,
And guardian of their altars.
This prayer I pray for Athens,
Pronounce this prophecy with kind intent:
Fortune shall load her land with healthful gifts
From her rich earth engendered
By the sun’s burning brightness.
ATHENE: I will do my part, and win
Blessing for my city’s life,
Welcoming within our walls
These implacable and great
Goddesses. Their task it is
To dispose all mortal ways.
He who wins their enmity
Lives accurst, not knowing whence
Falls the wounding lash of life.
Secret guilt his father knew
Hails him to their judgement-seat,
Where, for all his loud exclaims,
Death, his angry enemy,
Silent grinds him into dust.
CHORUS: I have yet more to promise. No ill wind
Shall carry blight to make your fruit-trees fade;
No bud-destroying canker
Shall creep across your frontiers,
Nor sterile sickness threaten your supply.
May Pan give twin lambs to your thriving ewes
In their expected season;
And may the earth’s rich produce
Honour the generous Powers with grateful gifts.
ATHENE: Guardians of our city’s wall,
Hear the blessings they will bring!
Fate’s Avengers wield a power
Great alike in heaven and hell;
And their purposes on earth
They fulfil for all to see,
Giving, after their deserts,
Songs to some, to others pain
In a prospect blind with tears.
CHORUS: I pray that no untimely chance destroy
Your young men in their pride;
And let each lovely virgin, as a bride,
Fulfil her life with joy.
For all these gifts, you sovereign gods, we pray,
And you, our sisters three,
Dread Fates, whose just decree
Chooses for every man his changeless way,
You who in every household have your place,
Whose visitations fall
With just rebuke on all –
Hear us, most honoured of the immortal race !
ATHENE: Now for the love that you perform
To this dear land, my heart is warm.
Holy Persuasion too I bless,
Who softly strove with harsh denial,
Till Zeus the Pleader came to trial
And crowned Persuasion with success.
Now good shall strive with good; and we
And they shall share the victory.
CHORUS: Let civil war, insatiate of ill,
Never in Athens rage;
Let burning wrath, that murder must assuage,
Never take arms to spill,
In this my heritage,
The blood of man till dust has drunk its fill.
Let all together find
Joy in each other;
And each both love and hate with the same mind
As his blood-brother;
For this heals many hurts of humankind.
ATHENE: These gracious words and promised deeds
Adorn the path where wisdom leads.
Great gain for Athens shall arise
From these grim forms and threatening eyes.
Then worship them with friendly heart,
For theirs is friendly. Let your State
Hold justice as her chiefest prize;
And land and city shall be great
And glorious in every part.
CHORUS: City, rejoice and sing,
Who, blest and flourishing
With wealth of field and street,
Wise in your hour, and dear
To the goddess you revere,
Sit by the judgement-seat
Of heaven’s all-judging king,
Who guards and governs well
Those favoured ones who dwell
Under her virgin wing.
ATHENE: We wish you joy in turn. Now I must go
And guide you to your chambers in the rock,
Lit by the holy torches
Of these who shall escort you.
With eager haste and solemn sacrifice,
Come, enter this dear earth, there to repel
Harm from our homes and borders,
And bring us wealth and glory.
Sons of the Rock of Athens, lead their way,
Welcome these Residents within your walls;
They come to bless our city:
Let our good-will reward them.
CHORUS: My blessings I repeat
On all whose homes are here,
To whom this rock is dear;
On temple and on street
Where gods and mortals meet.
And as with awe and fear
And humble hearts you greet
My presence as your guest,
So year succeeding year
Shall be more richly blest.
ATHENE: I thank you for your prayers. Now by these torches’ gleam
I and my maidens who attend my statue here
Come to escort you to your home beneath the ground.
Young women, children, a resplendent company,
Flower of the land of Theseus, with a reverend troop
Of elder women, dressed in robes of purple dye,
Shall go with you. Honour the Friendly Goddesses;
And let the flaring lights move on, that our new guests
In coming years may grace our land with wealth and peace.
During the last three speeches a procession has been gathering, with music and lighted torches, to escort the CHORUS from the stage; as they go, all sing together:
Pass onward to your home,
Great ones, lovers of honour,
Daughters of ancient Night,
Led by the friends your peace has won;
(And let every tongue be holy!)
On to the deep of earth,
To the immemorial cavern,
Honoured with sacrifice,
Worshipped in fear and breathless awe;
(And let every tongue be holy!)
Come, dread and friendly Powers
Who love and guard our land;
And while devouring flame
Fills all your path with light,
Gather with gladness to your rest.
And let every voice
Crown our song with a shout of joy!
Again let the wine be poured
By the glare of the crackling pine;
Now great, all-seeing Zeus
Guards the city of Pallas;
Thus God and Fate are reconciled.
Then let every voice
Crown our song with a shout of joy!