Place: in front of the royal palace at Mycene. One of the side-directions goes to the civic areas of the town: the other goes to the tomb of Agamemnon and then on abroad.
Orestes, accompanied by Pylades, enters from the ‘abroad’ side, along with the old servant, who stands by him and points to the surrounding landscape.
Now, son of Agamemnon,
[he who was commander of the host at Troy°]
°here you see before you all those sights
that you have been so eager to survey.
Here spreads the longed-for plain of ancient Argos,
sacred ground of Io, daughter of the river Inachus.
And that, Orestes, is the city gathering-place
beside Apollo’s temple;
and to the left this is the famous shrine of Hera.
And here, this place we have arrived at,
is Mycene, rich in gold,
with this, the palace of the dynasty
of Pelops, rich in blood.° 10
From here I carried you away,
escaping from your father’s murder;
and, instructed by your true-blood sister,
fetched you out and brought you up
to reach your present age,
and so avenge your father’s death.
And now, Orestes, and you, Pylades,° his dearest friend,
you must decide, and quick, what should be done.
The glow of sunrise is already stirring up
the tuneful morning chorus of the birds,
and dark night’s stars have left the sky.
And so, before there’s anybody starting on their way 20
from out the house, you should discuss your plans.
Now’s not the time for any more delay:
the moment’s come for action.
Most cherished of all servants,°
see how clearly you display your loyalty.
Just as a thoroughbred, however old,
does not hold back in danger but pricks up his ears,
so you encourage us and stand out at the front.
So I shall tell you what I have decided,
and please give me your acute attention, 30
so that, if I miss the mark in anything,
you set me right.
When I approached the Delphic oracle
to ask what way I should best take revenge
upon my father’s murderers,
Apollo answered me that I myself,
without armed soldiers in support,
should take my just revenge by using trickery.
So, following this oracle, your task is this:
to go inside this palace, when you get the opportunity,
and find out all they’re doing there, 40
and then report to us with clear intelligence.
They will not recognize you after all this time,
and won’t suspect you now that you’ve grown grey.
This is the sort of story you should tell:
that you’re a visitor from Phocis,
come from Phanoteus,° who is their closest ally there.
And tell them, swearing it on oath,° about Orestes,
that he’s dead, killed in a fall,
when he was hurtled from his racing chariot
as he competed in the Pythian Games.° 50
Make that your story.
Meanwhile, as told, we’ll go and decorate
my father’s tomb with offerings and locks of hair.
And then we’ll make our way back here,
and bring that urn of beaten bronze
which we have hidden in the undergrowth.
That way we can deceive them with the welcome news
my body has gone up in smoke,
reduced to ashes in the funeral flames.
What is the harm, if playing dead in words
means I survive to carry off the glory? 60
No spoken word is bad, I think, as long as it brings gain.°
I’ve often heard the stories° told of clever men
reported falsely dead, who then returned
back home to even greater honour.
Just so, I claim that from this lie
I’ll come to shine star-like above my enemies.
(praying) So now, land of my fathers, and you local gods,
grant me a welcome and good fortune in this quest.
And you as well, ancestral home,
because, encouraged by the gods,
with justice I advance to purge you clean. 70
Don’t send me from this land without my rights,
but make me master of my wealth and heritage,
re-founder of this house.
That’s what I have to say.
And now, old man, you go and take care of the things
that are your task, and we two shall set off.
The time has come, and seizing the right moment
is the most important key
to every human enterprise.
O, what a wretched thing I am!
I thought I heard some servant here indoors
complaining in distress, my son.
Poor woman, might it be Electra? 80
Do you think that we should stay
and hear what she laments?
No, definitely not. Try nothing else
before we’ve made a start by doing what Apollo said,
So first pour out libations for your father—
that is what will bring us victory
and control of what is done.
They go off as Electra comes out from the palace.
°Limpid sunlight and you upper
sky that share in dawn,° how often
have you heard my songs of grief, how
often have you seen me score my
breast to lacerated bleeding 90
when the dark of night is over.
And my hateful bed inside this
dismal dwelling knows full well my
night-long weeping, as I grieve for
my humiliated father.
Ares war-god did not grant him
honours in a foreign country:
no, my mother and her mate in
bed, Aegisthus, swung a deadly
axe and cracked his skull the way wood-
cutters split apart an oak.
Mourning cries, dear father, come from 100
no one else but me, although your
death was pitifully dreadful.
Even so I’ll never stop my
bitter dirge of lamentation,
not as long as I can see the
stars all sparkling and this daylight.
No: before this doorway of my
father’s palace, I shall, like the
nightingale° who killed her offspring,
raise my cry so all can hear it.
O you house of Hades and Per- 110
sephone, and chthonic Hermes,
and you, potent Curse, and awesome
goddesses Erinyes,° you
who can see those foully murdered,
and adulterers in secret:
gather, help me, give me vengeance,
payment for my father’s slaughter.
And I beg you, send my brother,
since I have the strength no longer
to outweigh this overbearing
load of anguish by myself. 120
The chorus come on from the city side.
°Daughter, Electra, daughter
born of worst of mothers,
why waste away for ever,
insatiably mourning
for the obscene, treacherous
death of Agamemnon,
victim of vicious plotting
by that scheming mother?
I curse the perpetrator,
if such a prayer is proper.
Noble friends, you’ve come here
offering me comfort 130
in my pain, I know that,
I’ll not surrender,
nor desist from grieving
for my wretched father.
You who show me friendship
with all kinds of favour,
leave me to my raving—
let me be, I beg you.
All the same you can never
resurrect your father
from the deep marsh of Hades,
pit for every human,
no matter how much grieving.
All this pointless wailing
going beyond all reason 140
becomes self-destroying,
and no relief from trouble.
Why desire such turmoil?
It’s a stupid person
who could rest unmindful
of a parent’s dreadful
ending. There is one who
fits my state: the bird who
mourns for Itys, Itys.°
And you, all-enduring
Niobe,° for me god- 150
like, in your rock-formed
tomb you weep for ever.
You are not the only human
who has sorrow given,
but your grief has been excessive—
some are less intrusive:
like Chrysothemis, they’re living
sisters quiet within.°
Also think about that other,
young and safe from trouble;
with good fortune one day he’ll be 160
welcomed to Mycene,
coming here, as Zeus blesses—
nobly born Orestes.°
And I wait for him unending,
with no children and no wedding,
as I drift here drenched with weeping,
and oppressed by grief unceasing,
while he seems to be forgetful
of the suffering he should know well.
All the messages he sends me 170
merely seem to be deceptive—
always saying he is longing:
even so for all this longing,
he always seems to have some reason
never to appear in person.
Courage, take courage, daughter:
Zeus is still almighty,
from heaven ruling over
all things in his power.
Entrust to him your anger;
don’t hate too much. Remember
the son of Agamemnon
lives yet in Crisa’s meadow,° 180
and keeps keen awareness—
as does the great god Hades.
As for me, my life’s gone passing,
leaving me with all hope missing,
lacking strength, becoming dwindled,
never able to have children,
with no husband as my champion.
I am like a stateless chattel,
working as a servant, helpless
in my own ancestral palace, 190
clothed in these degrading tatters,
hanging about empty tables.
°Pitiful scream when he came home,
pitiful feast in his own home,
when on that day the axe’s blade
brought down its edge upon his head.
Trickery the means that laid the plan,
lechery the urge that killed the man.
They begot a deadly dreadful scene,
whether god or mortal had this done. 200
O far the most hateful light
that’s dawned in my whole life!
O night, the anguish that pierced
at that most monstrous feast!
My father there faced his death,
handiwork of them both—
hands that have left me betrayed,
have left my life destroyed.
May Zeus ensure they are paid
in pain returned for pain, 210
and never enjoy that wealth,
fruit of the deed they dealt.
Take my advice, do not say more:
you see who holds the present power.
Why plunge yourself so recklessly
so deep in self-destructive misery?
You’ve made troubles that are too harsh
as you breed battles for your own heart.
There’s no point wrestling those in power,
so bear these sufferings as they are. 220
I know this well: my rage
is terror pushed to the edge.
Yet in bad times should I keep grief
restrained? Not while I live.
Who, friends, with mind that is clear
could think that I could hear
words soothing sorrow away?
Let go advice, let go.
Anguished beyond relief
I’ll never drop my grief.230
Well, I say this meaning kindly,
like a trusted mother, do not
breed disaster on disaster.
What could be a good amount of bad?
Can it be right to disregard the dead?
Could that thrive in any human heart?
I never want respect from such as those, 240
joining them to live a life of ease.
I’ll never clip the wings of shrill lament,
not by holding father in contempt.
If he’s to lie, a nothing, in the earth,
cold, while they don’t pay for death with death,
why, then Respect would leave the world behind;
Decency desert our humankind. 250
We’ve come, dear child, to bring you our support,
and for ourselves as well. But if our words strike you
as wrong, then you prevail, for we shall go along with you.
I am embarrassed, women: I must seem to you
so overwhelmed with all my lamentation;
yet I’m driven to behave this way,
so please be understanding.
How could a noble woman not respond like this
when she confronts her father’s degradations?
And day after day I see them growing, never less. 260
First, my relations with the mother who begot me
have descended to the depths of loathing.
Next, I have to go on living in the house
shared with my father’s murderers;
they have control of me, and they dictate
what I can have and what to go without.
And then imagine how I spend my days,
when I have got to watch Aegisthus
take his seat upon my father’s throne;
and see him strutting in the robes
he used to wear, and pouring out libations
by the very hearth he killed him at. 270
°And see the crowning act of their contempt,
I mean the killer lolling in my father’s bed
beside my sordid mother—
if the name of mother’s proper for the woman
who indulges copulation with this man.
She has the gall to live with that polluting filth,
yet feel no fear of any vengeful spirit.
°On the contrary, as though exulting in her deeds,
she keeps the day on which she killed my father by deceit,
and organizes choruses each month 280
and sacrificial offerings to her guardian gods.
I have to see all this inside the house:
and there I weep, I waste away,
and have to hold inside myself my cries against
that feast which grossly bears my father’s name,
kept to myself since I’m not free to grieve enough
to bring my heart relief.
And she, that noble woman,
shouts and hurls complaints like these:
‘You god-forsaken girl,
are you the only person who has lost a father?
Is there no one mourns except for you? 290
To hell with you! I hope the gods below may never
give you respite from the grief that grips you now.’
That’s how she rants at me—except for when
she hears some talk about Orestes coming back;
and then she stands and screams with fury in my face:
‘You are the one to blame for this, aren’t you!
It was your doing when you stole Orestes
from my grasp and got him secretly away.
You’ll pay for this, make no mistake!’
She yaps that kind of thing,
and all the while her celebrated bridegroom 300
tags along and eggs her on—
this utter weakling, yes, this total blight,
this man who only fights with help from women.
And meanwhile I’m exhausted,
waiting here for ever for Orestes to arrive
and put an end to this.
By constantly delaying on the point of action
he’s destroyed my hopes, both real and unreal.
In such circumstances, friends, it is impossible
to be restrained or show respect.
But in bad times bad ways become necessity.
Aegisthus—is he nearby while you’re saying 310
all these things? Or is he gone away from home?
Most certainly away. You don’t imagine
I would venture out of doors if he were here?
He’s in the countryside for now.
If that is so, I might more confidently
share in conversation with you.
He is not here, so go on, ask me what you want.
I wonder what you’re thinking of your brother:
is he coming—or delaying? I would like to know.
He claims he’s coming, but he doesn’t turn this into deeds.
Yes, men are liable to hesitate before a weighty act. 320
Well, I’d no hesitation when I rescued him.
Don’t fret. He’s noble, and he’ll help those dear to him.
So I believe, or I would not have stayed alive this long.
Chrysothemis emerges from the door, carrying offerings.
Now don’t say more, because I see your sister
coming out of doors, Chrysothemis,
—same father as you, and same mother too.
She’s carrying the kind of offerings
customary for the dead.
What is it you have come out to proclaim
before the entrance doorway, sister?
Have you not learnt the lesson after all this time 330
not to go indulging in your pointless rage?
And yet I know this for myself:
I do not like the way things are,
and so much so that, if I only had the strength,
I’d show them clearly what I think of them.
But I’ve decided that it’s best to shorten sails
in stormy times, and not appear aggressive
when there is no chance of harming them.
I only wish that you would do the same.
Although I know the right lies not with what I say
but with your judgement, still, if I’m to lead
my life at liberty, that means complete compliance
with the will of those in power. 340
It’s terrible that you neglect the father
you were born from, and devote
your loyalty to your mother’s side—
all this reproaching me is learnt from her,
and none of it comes from yourself.
So make your choice: to give up being sensible,
or, by being sensible, abandon those you should hold dear.
You said yourself just now that if you had the strength
you would reveal how much you hate them;
yet, when I do all I can to get our father his revenge,
you will not work with me,
and put me off from doing anything. 350
Does this not simply add on cowardice to being wrong?
For tell me—or let me tell you—what benefit
would come from giving up on my complaints?
I am alive, aren’t I?
—wretchedly, I know, but still enough for me.
What’s more, I cause them hurt, and that way give the dead
due honour, if some gratitude is felt down there.
Your hatred is no more than hate in words:
in fact you go along beside your father’s killers.
I . . . well I would never, not if loaded with the goods 360
you revel in, I never would give in to them.
You can have your fancy fare and life of luxury,
but grieving will be sustenance enough for me.
I’ve no desire to share your kind of privilege—
nor would you if you had sound sense.
So while you could have had renown as daughter
of the best of fathers, you get called instead
your mother’s girl. That is the way to be the most despised,
through your betrayal of our father and your own.
Don’t speak in anger, please—
there’s merit in what both of you have said, 370
if you would learn her lesson and she yours.
I have some knowledge, women, of her kind of talk.
I’d not have raised this issue, were it not
that I have heard of deadly trouble looming up for her,
enough to stop her from her long-drawn-out laments.
Well then, what is this dreadful threat?
If you can tell me something worse than what I have,
I’ll not continue contradicting you.
All right, I’ll tell you everything I know.
They’re going—if you don’t stop this complaining—
they are going to put you somewhere 380
where you’ll never see the sun:
instead you’ll be shut living in an excavated cell,°
outside this land, where you can go on singing hymns of woe.
So give that thought, or later when you’re suffering,
do not lay blame on me.
Now is the time to show some sense.
Is this how they’ve decided what to do with me?
It is, the minute that Aegisthus gets back home.
The quicker that he comes the better then.
What’s this you’re calling down upon yourself?
That if he means to do these things, then let him come.
So that you suffer what? What are you thinking of? 390
So I can get as far away as possible from all of you.
But don’t you care about the life you have?
Oh yes! This life of mine is wonderful!
It might be if you could just learn some sense.
Don’t teach me to betray the ones I hold most dear.
I’m not—but to submit to those in power.
You can play sweet with them:
that’s not the way that I behave.
Yet it’s no good to fall through being foolish.
I’ll fall if need be in a father’s cause.
I’m sure our father is forgiving in this case. 400
It’s typical of cowards to lean on words like that.
Well, be persuaded and agree with me.
No, no, I never want to be so empty of all sense.
In that case I shall set about my errand.
Where are you going to? Who are these offerings for?
Our mother says to pour them on our father’s tomb.
What? Offerings for her deadliest enemy?
The one she killed herself—as you so like to say.
What friend persuaded her? Or whose idea was this?
I heard she had some nightmare dream. 410
Ancestral gods, be with me now at least!
Are you emboldened by this fear of hers?
If you can tell me what she dreamt, then I could say.
I only know a little bit of what she saw.
Well, tell me that at least. A little tale has often
brought down human fortunes or has set them up.
It’s said that in her dream she went a second time
together with our father,° yours and mine,
come back to life. And then he took the sceptre,
which he used to hold, and now Aegisthus has,
and planted it beside the hearth. 420
From that there grew a trunk that sprouted leaves
and cast its shade across the country of Mycene.
This is what I heard from someone who was there
when she revealed her vision to the Sun outside.
I know no more except that it’s because
she is afraid of this that she has sent me out.
[And so I beg you by the family gods to follow my advice
and not to come to grief through foolishness.
If you reject me then you will come back to me in trouble.°](430)
Dear sister, don’t place any of these things
you’re carrying upon the tomb—
it is not right or holy to bring offerings
to our father from his hateful wife.
No, throw them to the winds,
or hide them buried underneath the earth
where none of them can ever reach
our father’s resting-place.
Let them instead remain preserved below
as treasures stored for her when she shall die.
If she were not the hardest-hearted woman ever born,
she never would have sent these rancorous libations 440
to the graveside of the man she killed.
D’you think the dead man in his tomb would gladly take
these offerings from the one who cruelly killed him—
at whose hands he had been mutilated
like some foreign enemy; the one who tried
to clean away pollution by then wiping off
his blood on his own hair?°
D’you really think these things could
purge her of the murder-guilt?
Impossible. So throw these offerings away:
instead cut off a lock from your own hair,
and one from me as well—it’s slight but all I have; 450
and offer these to him, this unkempt lock
and this plain waist-band with no ornament.
She hands the lock of hair and belt to Chrysothemis.
And after you have fallen down and prayed to him
to come with favour from beneath the earth
and give us help against our enemies,
then pray in hope about his son Orestes:
that he stays alive to get the upper hand,
and plant his foot upon his enemies;
and then in future we may decorate his tomb
more richly than with what we can give now.
For I believe—I do believe—that he too had a part
in sending this unwelcome dream to her. 460
Yet do this ritual, sister, and so reinforce
yourself and me, as well as him most dear,
our father, laid below.
What she suggests is pious; and, dear girl,
if you have proper sense, you’ll do this thing.
And so I shall; for what is just should not
be argued with and calls for urgent deeds.
But as I try to put these in effect,
I beg of you, dear friends, keep quiet,
since if my mother should find out, 470
I fear this enterprise would turn out bitterly for me.
Exit Chrysothemis towards the tomb; Electra remains.
If I’m not an erring prophet,
lacking insight in my mind,
Justice is, as foretold, coming,
bearing just power in her hand,
coming not far in the future.
Boldness newly fills my heart,
now I’ve heard about this vision, 480
welcome wafting through the night.
For your father, great Greek leader,
shan’t forget, though cruelly laid
low, nor shall the ancient deadly
axe of bronze with double blade.
With many feet and hands she’s coming,
flitting from her ambush place, 490
bronze-clawed Erinys,° to catch them
eager for their lewd embrace,
forging an unbed, unmarriage.°
I’m emboldened by this dream,
which shall never grant acquittal
for the partners in this crime.
Oracles and dreams mean nothing 500
for us mortals here on earth,
if this nightmare and its terrors
do not sail through to their berth.
°Calamitous was that horse-race,
which Pelops won through a cheat;
it’s taken its toll on this place.
For, since Myrtilos drowned in sleep
enclosed in the ocean’s lap,
hurled down from the golden step 510
of his chariot by foul deceit,
this house has never been safe
free of calamitous grief.
Clytemnestra appears abruptly in the doorway.
So here you are, out on the loose again.
That is because Aegisthus isn’t here;
he’s always kept you in to make quite sure
you don’t disgrace the family—
at least not out of doors.
But now that he’s away, of me you take no notice,
even though you’ve often publicly declared 520
that I exert my power beyond what’s right,
dismissing you and yours with mere contempt.
But I am not contemptuous;
I only say unpleasant things of you
because you often do the same to me.
You always cite your father, that one cause,
as your excuse, alleging that he died through me.
Well yes, I know it was ‘through me’—
I cannot possibly say no to that,
as Justice, and not I alone, put him to death.
And you should add support if you had sense,
because this father you’re for ever moaning for, 530
°he was the one, and he alone, who steeled himself
to sacrifice your sister to the gods—
though when conceiving her it was not pain he felt°,
no pain to match mine giving birth!
And next just tell me this: who did he sacrifice her for?
Do you reply ‘the Greeks’?
They had no right to sacrifice my child.
Or for his brother Menelaus?
Then shouldn’t he have paid the price instead—
has he not got a pair of children of his own?
They should have died, not her, since this whole venture 540
was to serve their father and their mother’s cause.
Or else had Hades got some urge to feast upon
my children more than hers?
Or did your cursèd father lack the pull of love
towards the children borne by me,
yet felt it for his brother’s?
Would that not be a twisted way of thinking for a father?
That’s what the poor dead girl would say if she could speak.
So I feel no disquiet for what was done to him.
And if you think that I am in the wrong, 550
then find good judgement for yourself
before you criticize those next to you.
For once you cannot claim that I began
with some unpleasantness before
I had to hear all this from you!
But, if you will allow, I’d like to set things straight,
both for the dead man and my sister too,
I do permit it. If you would always speak like this,
it wouldn’t be distasteful hearing you.
Then I shall speak.
First. you confess you killed my father.
There’s no admission could deserve more shame,
no matter whether just or not. And it was not 560
with justice that you killed him; you were dragged astray
by prompting from a vicious man—the one you’re living with.
°And then ask Artemis what was she punishing
when she held back the winds at Aulis?
Or since it is not right to question her, I’ll tell you.
My father, so I’ve heard, was hunting game
within her sacred grove, and, as he trod,
he started up a dappled stag; and, when he’d brought it down,
he let slip out a boastful phrase about the kill.
Enraged by this the goddess stopped the Greeks; 570
and so my father had to sacrifice his daughter’s life
as compensation for the animal.
That is the explanation for her sacrifice:
°there was no other way to get the army free,
neither back to home nor on to Troy.
This way he was obliged and forced to sacrifice her,
much against his will—not for the sake of Menelaus.
But even had he done this for his brother’s sake,
to put your case, how was it right for him
to meet death at your hands for this?
According to what rule? Beware in case,
by making this a rule for humans, 580
you regret the hazard you are posing for yourself.
For if we’re meant to claim a death for death,
then you should be first to die and get your just deserts.
But now I’ll make you see how the excuse you claim is empty.
Tell me, please, how does it come about
that you are now committing acts
that dredge the depths of shame?
You’re sleeping with that poison filth,
the man who previously helped you kill my father.
And you’re getting children with him,
casting out your previous offspring,
even though they’re good and from good stock. 590
How could I give approval to that choice?
Or are you going to claim that this as well
is retribution for your daughter?
That would be a sordid claim:
it can’t be right to have sex with your enemy,
and say it’s for your daughter’s sake.
But no, I’m not allowed to give you good advice,
as you full-throatedly proclaim
that I bad-mouth my mother. And it’s true
that I consider you a tyrant rather than a mother,
as I live out my wretched life surrounded
with the many disadvantages I get
from you and your conspirator. 600
As for that other one abroad,
who only just escaped your clutches,
poor Orestes: he grinds through a wretched life.
You have accused me often that I’ve brought him up
to punish you—and yes, if I had only had the power,
you may be sure I would have done.
And so denounce me, if you like, to one and all
as bad because of that, or as foul-mouthed,
or utterly without a sense of shame.
Because, if I’ve been born with talents
in exploits like these, then I do justice to the traits
I have inherited from you.
°I see you fuming at her words, 610
not caring any more if she has justice on her side.
How should I give a damn for her
when she has treated me with such contempt?—
and her so young! She’d surely go
to any lengths without a scrap of shame!
But I do feel ashamed, you know,
despite whatever you may think;
I know I’m acting wrongly for my age, improperly.
But your ill-will and what you do compel me
to behave like this despite myself—for bad behaviour 620
gets instructed through bad deeds.
You shameless creature, all my words and acts achieve
is to provoke you to speak out too much.
It’s you who talk not me, because it’s you who acts;
and it is actions that find out the words.
I swear by lady Artemis: you shall pay dear
for all this insolence once that Aegisthus comes.
You see? You’re in a fit of fury, even though
you gave me leave to say the things I wanted.
You’re incapable of listening.
Just stop ill-omened shouting, and allow me peace 630
to sacrifice, now I’ve allowed you all your say.
Go on then with your sacrifice;
don’t hold my voice to blame, as I shall speak no more.
Attendants, hold up high these fruitful crops,
my offerings to lord Apollo here, along with prayers
to free me from the fears that grip me now.
°Please listen, guardian Phoebus, to my hidden meaning,
hidden since I am not speaking among friends,
which makes it inappropriate for me to disclose everything—
not while this one is standing close, 640
who, as I know of her resentment and her ranting tongue,
would scatter ugly rumours through the town.
So listen in that light, because I have to cover it like this.
The dream I’ve had this night just past
might be interpreted in two opposing ways.
If it is favourable, then grant it be fulfilled:
but if it’s dangerous, then turn it back upon our enemies.
If there are those who are conspiring secretly
to cast me out from my prosperity—
do not allow them. No, but let me always live like this,
a harm-free life, controlling these ancestral powers, 650
and living with those dear, the ones I live with now,
enjoying happy times with them
and with those children who do not
maliciously wish bitter pain for me.
O lord Apollo, listen favourably to this,
and grant me everything just as I ask.
As for the rest, I think that even with me keeping quiet,
still you, a god, must understand it well.
[for Zeus’ children must be able to see everything°]
The old slave, pretending to be a messenger, enters from the ‘abroad’ side, while Clytemnestra is turned away towards Apollo.
Please tell me, women, can I know for sure 660
this is the palace of Aegisthus, ruler here?
It is indeed—you have supposed that rightly.
And would I rightly guess this lady is his wife?
She looks like royalty.
You are completely right—and here she comes to you.
Clytemnestra turns and approaches.
My greetings, lady. I am bringing pleasing news
for you and for Aegisthus from a friend.
Lord Phanoteus of Phocis—and the message is important. 670
What is it, stranger? Since the man you come from
is a friend, I’m sure your news is friendly too.
Orestes: he is dead. That’s it in brief.
Ah no! This day must mean the end for me.
What’s this you say, what’s this?
Speak, stranger. Pay her no attention.
I’ve said, and say again: Orestes, he is dead.
Catastrophe! My life is finished.
(to Electra) Look after your own problems, you.
(to the old servant) But tell me, stranger, tell me true:
how did he meet his end?
That’s why I have been sent, and I shall tell you all. 680
That man arrived to join
the glorious showpiece of the Greeks at Delphi
so that he could enter for the Pythian Games.
And when he heard the running-race announced
—the first to be decided—he entered it,
magnificent, admired by all those there.
He reached the finish of the course
in style to match his fine physique,
and came off with the victor’s crown.
To sum up much in brief, I’ve never witnessed
strength and feats the like of his.
For certain every time the judge announced a winner, 690
[for running, double-track, pentathlon, as established°]
he took off the prize, congratulated for his victories.
This was the declaration naming him:°
‘Orestes, Argive, son of Agamemnon,
who once led the famous army of the Greeks.’
And that is how it was . . . but when a god decides
to strike, no human’s strong enough to get away.
°When on the final day the time arose, at dawn,
to mount the contest for the swiftest team of horses,
there he entered with the other charioteers.700
°One was Achaean; one from Sparta;
there were two from Libya, expert four-horse racers;
fifth was one from Thessaly;
the next with brindled mares was from Aetolia;
the seventh from Magnesia;
the eighth from Aenia—white steeds;
the ninth from Athens, founded by the gods;
one from Boeotia was the tenth to mount his chariot.
Each took position in the place allotted by the judges. 710
Then the trumpet’s blast of bronze—and they were off!
Together they all shouted to their teams and shook the reins;
the stadium resounded with the thundering of chariots,
and dust rose up in clouds.
All jostling for place they used their goads unsparingly,
flat out to overhaul each other’s chariot-hubs
and snorting horses, whose fierce breath threw
flecks of foam upon their backs and whirling wheels.°(719)
And up till now the charioteers had all kept straight on course,(723)
but then the Aenian horses made a violent swerve
as they were turning from the sixth lap to the seventh,
crashing head-on with the team from Barce.°
Then one upon another they piled up, colliding,
till the Delphi race-course was all strewn with wreckage. 730
The skilful charioteer from Athens saw ahead,
and pulled aside in order to avoid
the surge of horses seething in mid-track.
Orestes had been holding back, behind the field,
relying on his final turn of speed;
but when he saw that he was left with just one other team,
he called out sharply to his horses
and set off in swift pursuit.
The two drew neck-and-neck; now one
and then the other would get just a head in front. 740
Through all the other circuits the poor man
had kept on steady with his chariot straight;
and as he went around the turning-post at either end(720)
he would just graze his axle-tip by letting loose
the right-hand horse and holding in the left.(722)
But then as he came round the final turn
he tightened up° the left-hand horse too much
and accidentally struck the corner of the post.
The axle-rod was snapped in two,
and he was thrown across the chariot rail and out.
And as fell upon the ground, all tangled
in the reins wrapped round himself,°
his horses went careering down the track.
The crowd there, when they saw him fallen
from his chariot, all cried aloud in pity 750
for the youth who’d had such triumphs,
only then to come to such a dreadful end.
Now he was dragged along the ground,
and sometimes tossed up in the air feet first,
until at last the other charioteers
just managed to restrain the horses.
They disentangled him, a mass of blood,
so battered even those most dear to him°
would not have recognized his mangled shape.
Immediately they burnt him on a funeral pyre,
and turned his mighty body
into paltry ashes in a small bronze urn.
Some chosen men from Phocis are conveying that,
so he may gain his lot of burial in his native land. 760
Well, that’s what happened—
things bad enough when put in words:
for those of us who witnessed the event,
it was the most appalling thing I’ve ever seen.
Dreadful! It seems the whole stock
of our royal dynasty is rooted out. . . .
What’s this? O Zeus, am I to call this
happy news—or terrible, however positive?
It’s bitter if the way to saving my own life
is through my own distress.
What is it, lady, so dismays you in this news?
It is a powerful bonding, to give birth. 770
Impossible to hate your children,
even when they have ill-treated you.
It seems my coming here has been no good.
No, not at all: how can you say ‘no good’,
when you have brought me certain proof that he is dead—
the one who, though deriving life from me,
then spurned my breast and care,
and went to live an alienated exile?
And me, once he had left this land, he never saw again;
yet he denounced me for his father’s death,
and made such dreadful threats
that sleep would never sweetly wrap me round 780
by night or day, but every minute passed for me
as though I was about to meet my death.
But now . . . this very day releases me from fear of him—
(turning to Electra) and fear of this one too, since she
inside my house has been an even greater plague,
for ever draining dry my very blood of life.
But now, for all her threats, we shall be able
to live out our days secure in peace.
How terrible, Orestes,
now that we must mourn your fate,
when you are treated with contempt790
by your own mother here! Is that not fine?
Not fine for you. But as for him, he’s fine all right.
She listened to the one she should, and she decided well.
Yes, revel in it. You’ve struck lucky just for now.
You and Orestes cannot put a stop to this?
We have been stopped—far from our stopping you.
Your coming, stranger, would be worth a lot,
if you have stopped her loud-mouthed ranting.
If all is settled well, should I be on my way?
No, not at all. You then would not be treated properly by me, 800
nor worthy of the friend who sent you here.
Please come inside.
Leave her out here to howl about how terrible
things are for her and for her friends.
They go inside, leaving Electra by herself.
So did the wretched woman
show her grief and anguish?
Did she weep with bitter tears, lament her son
who’s met his death like this?
Oh no, she’s gone, and laughing.
Dearest Orestes, by your death you’ve killed me too,
because you’ve torn out from my heart
the only hopes that I had left:810
that you would live to come one day
and claim due vengeance for your father—and for me.
Now where am I to turn?
I’m all alone, bereft of you and of my father.
Now I have to act the slave again,
in service to the people that I most detest.
[my father’s killers. So is all well with me?°]
This I declare: I never more shall share
a roof with them, not ever. I shall lie down friendless
by this doorway here, and waste my life away.
If any of those people there inside
becomes incensed by this, then let them kill me. 820
It will be a favour if I die, a misery if I live—
I’ve no desire for life.
°Where is the thunderbolt of Zeus
or the shining Sun,
if they can blithely watch these things,
yet not have them shown?
(cry of grief )
What grief, dear child?
(cry of grief )
Say nothing rash.
You’ll be my death.
How do you mean? 830
If you hold out some hope for those
clearly dead and gone,
you will trample on me more,
when I’m crushed and down.
°Amphiaraus’ story tells
how a chain of gold,
a female bribe, led to his tomb;
and yet underground . . .
(cry of grief ) 840
. . . he’s strong, aware.
(cry of grief )
His murderess . . .
. . . herself was killed.
That’s true indeed.
I know, yes, for his grief
an avenger came.
But the one there was for me
is dead, snatched away.
You meet yet more misfortune.
I know, I know too well— 850
my whole life is a torrent
that floods the whole year through
full of hateful horror.
We’ve seen what you mourn for.
Then do not still attempt
to raise hopes of my brother
because all help from him
is now past and over.
Death comes to every mortal. 860
But to fall beneath the hooves
of bolting horses, jabbing,
entangled with cruel death
in the reins that dragged him!
Unthinkable the torment.
His body in an alien land
without me to adorn him
with my hands; and deprived of us
to bury and to mourn him. 870
Chrysothemis returns in haste from the tomb.
I’m so excited that I’ve run here, dearest sister,
in my haste forgetting modesty:
I’m bringing joyful respite from the troubles
that you’ve been so long lamenting.
And how could you have possibly discovered
any cure for my distress when there’s no healing it?
Orestes has arrived. Believe me:
he is clearly here—as clearly as you see me now.
Are you a crazy fool? Or are you laughing at
your own misfortune, and at mine as well? 880
By our ancestral hearth, I am not mocking you.
He’s here, I’m telling you.
Poor fool! Who have you heard this story from,
to make you over-ready to believe in it?
I believe in it because I’ve seen clear evidence—
seen for myself, not heard from someone else.
What have you seen that’s so reliable?
What sight has lit this raging fire in you?
Please listen to me; hear me out
before you judge if I am sensible or foolish. 890
Well, talk away, if you enjoy that so.
I’ll tell you everything I’ve seen.
As soon as I came near our father’s ancient tomb
I could see streams of milk, new poured-out,
running from the grave-mound top,
and varied flowers were scattered
round about the monument.
I was astonished at this sight, and looked around
to see if there was anyone nearby.
And when I found that all the area was quiet,
I ventured closer to the tomb, 900
and at the edge I found a new-cut lock of hair.
As soon as I saw that, a well-known image
flew into my mind from looking on this token—
dearest of all people, our Orestes.
I picked it up, avoiding any word that risked ill luck,
and yet my eyes were filled with tears of joy.
And now I’m sure, as sure as I was then,
this tribute came from him and no one else.
Who else could this have been apart from you and me?
I know it was not me—and not you either, 910
seeing that you may not leave this house,
not even to the temples of the gods, unpunished.
And it’s not our mother’s way to do things such as this—
nor could she have without our noticing.
And so Orestes must have made these offerings.
Take courage, then, dear sister:
people’s fortunes do not always stay the same.
Things used to be all grim for us, but now perhaps
this very day will prove the guarantee of happy times.
°How I’ve been pitying your stupidity. 920
But why? Is what I’ve told you not good news?
You’ve no idea how far your mind has gone astray.
Do I not know what I saw clearly, then?
He’s dead.
Your hopes of rescue thanks to him are gone.
Don’t look to him for help.
No, no! Who have you heard this from?
From someone who was nearby when he died.
Where is this man? How shock is coming over me.
He’s in the house—and more than welcome to our mother.
Then all those offerings at our father’s grave-mound— 930
who on earth could possibly have put them there?
It’s likely, I suppose, that someone laid them there
in memory of Orestes.
What misery! And I was hurrying here with joyful news,
and had no notion of the depth of our disaster.
But, now that I’ve arrived, I find
all our old troubles and yet more as well.
Well, that is how things are.
But if you follow what I say you’ll make
the burden of our present agony less crushing.
So can I make the dead stand up again? 940
I don’t mean that—I’m not so foolish.
What are you urging me to do that’s in my power?
Nothing prospers without pain and toil, remember.
I do; I’ll share the burden with my utmost strength.
Then listen to the thing I am resolved to carry through.
You’re well aware we have no friends to call upon,
since Death has stripped us, and we two alone are left. 950
So long as I kept hearing that our brother was alive and well,
I held to hopes he would one day come here
to claim the debt of vengeance for our father.
But now that he is dead, I turn to you to join
with me, your sister, and not flinch from killing
the assassin of our father—
yes, Aegisthus.
I must keep nothing hidden from you any more.
What hope can you see still in prospect
while you wait around inactive?
You can complain of being robbed of your ancestral wealth; 960
you can be sad that for so long you have been
growing older with no wedding and no husband.
And don’t imagine you will ever get these things:
Aegisthus is not such a fool
that he will ever let us, you or me, have children,
who would pose an obvious threat to him.
But if you’ll follow what I say,
then first you shall show reverence for our father,
and our brother too; and then you’ll be
for ever recognized as free by birth, 970
and so you’ll win a worthy husband,
since everyone admires the sight of bravery.
Surely you can see the glory you’ll attract
for both of us by following my plan.
For all who see us, friend or stranger,
shall acknowledge us with praise like this:
‘Look, friend, that is the pair of sisters
who maintained their father’s heritage,
and, though their enemies were strongly placed,
still risked their lives to have his death avenged. 980
We all should love them, reverence them,
and honour them with public celebration of their bravery!’
That kind of thing’s what everyone will say, and we shall have
undying glory, both in life and death.
So, dearest sister, listen: work strong with your father;
labour with your brother; put an end
to all our troubles, yours as well as mine.
And recognize this truth: that for those nobly born
to live on in disgrace is true disgrace.
In matters such as this it helps for both the speaker 990
and the listener to think ahead.
Before she spoke, dear women, if she’d had good sense,
she would have exercised due caution—
which she has not done.
(to Electra) What have you in your sights,
the way you take up arms so recklessly,
and call on my support?
Can you not see you are a woman not a man,
and physically weaker than your enemies?
Their run of luck increases every day,
while ours recedes and comes to nothing. 1000
Who can plan to kill a man in that position,
and still hope to get away scot-free?
Look out you don’t make bad things even worse
if someone overhears these words of yours.
It does for us no good if we achieve a fine repute,
but die an ignominious death.
[It is not death itself that’s worst, but when you seek
for death, yet don’t have power to make it sure.°]
So my response is this: before we’re utterly destroyed 1010
and leave our dynasty obliterated,
hold your anger back.
I’ll make quite sure that what you’ve said
remains as though unsaid and with no consequence.
And you at last should learn some sense,
and when you’ve got no strength,
give way before the ones who hold the power.
Just pay attention to her. Nothing brings us humans
greater benefit than foresight and a mind that’s wise.
All you said was just as I expected:
I knew that you would cast aside what I proposed.
In that case I am going to have to do the deed
all by myself. I am not going to let it merely drop. 1020
Well, well! If only you had been so purposeful the day
our father died, you would have changed it all!
I was the same in spirit, but less understanding then.
Well, try to keep that understanding all through life.
I see this tone means you’ll not act with me.
Because this plan is likely to end up disastrously.
I admire your prudence, but detest your cowardice.
I hear your words, and then I shall accept approval too.
Don’t worry, that you’ll never have from me.
There’s still a lot of time for judging that. 1030
Now go away. In you there’s no capacity to help.
There is; but you have no capacity to learn.
So go and tell your mother all of this.
I won’t: I harbour no such vicious hate for you.
But see how much you are demeaning me.
No not demeaning: thinking of your longer good.
Which means I’ve got to follow your idea of what is right?
Yes, show good sense; and then be the leader for us both.
It’s bad enough you speak so well, yet are so wrong.
You’ve just described what’s wrong with you. 1040
D’you really not believe that what I say is right?
Yet there are times when what is right is fraught with harm.
Well, I have no desire to live according to those rules.
If you go through with this, you’ll end up saying I was right.
I shall go through with it—and undeterred by you.
You really will? And have no second thoughts?
Because there’s nothing worse than cowardly thoughts.
It seems you do not understand a thing I say.
I’ve long made up my mind—it’s nothing new.
°Well I am leaving in that case, 1050
since you can’t bring yourself to like my words,
and I can’t like the way that you behave.
Then go on in. I’ll never ever follow you—
no matter how much you may long for it.
Chasing after nothing is the height of foolishness.°
If you believe that you are thinking right,
then think like that. But when you’re deep in trouble,
then you’ll come to praise my words.
Chrysothemis goes off into the house, leaving Electra.
°Why, when we see the birds above
displaying such good sense,
supporting those they owe their life, 1060
with care and sustenance,
why do we not repay like them?
By Themis° who rights wrong,
and by great Zeus’s lightning-bolt,
redress won’t wait for long.
Send this appeal down to the dead
beneath to hear its voice:
tell Agamemnon that he bears
cacophonous disgrace.
Tell him the house is ill; the life1070
of harmony is lost
between the sisters, unresolved.
Electra’s left storm-tossed;
deserted, all alone she mourns
her father ceaselessly,
most like the plangent nightingale,
and views death fearlessly.
She is prepared to die if she
can put those two to death, 1080
the demon pair.° Who could match her
nobility of birth?
Nobody who’s noble
would ever wish for shame,
cowardly behaviour
erasing their good name.
So you have rejected
a life submerged in tears,
and armed yourself to carry
off a double praise—
at one stroke a daughter
both supreme and wise.
We wish you wealth and power 1090
surpassing those you hate
as high as now you’re low
downtrodden by their feet.
I’ve found you suffering under
deep misfortune’s curse,
and yet observing truly
the great eternal laws,
and winning highest glory
through reverence for Zeus.
°Orestes and Pylades enter from the tomb direction carrying a bronze urn.
Please tell us, women, whether we were rightly told
this is the way to where we want to go.
What are you looking for? What brings you here? 1100
We have been seeking for the place Aegisthus lives.
Your guide was faultless then: you have arrived.
Then one of you please let them know inside
that we, the people they’ve desired, have now arrived.
This woman is the closest relative, and should announce it.
Then, lady, will you go inside, and say that men
from Phocis are here looking for Aegisthus.
O misery! You don’t mean you are bringing
actual proof of what we’ve heard reported?
I don’t know anything about your story; 1110
but old Strophius has told me to bring news about Orestes.
What message, stranger? Dread floods over me.
Inside a little urn we bring the dead man’s
sparse remains, as you can see.
Misery for me. So that is it. It’s clear.
And this must be the burden that you bring.
If you are weeping for unfortunate Orestes,
then yes, this urn here houses all that’s left of him.
O stranger, by the gods I beg of you, please put it in my hands.
If this jar holds him, give it here to me, 1120
so I can weep, lamenting for myself
and all my family along with this poor ash.
Give it. Whoever she may be,
she can’t be asking this with malice,
but she has to be a friend, or relative by blood.
O last memorial of the life
which was for me the dearest in the world,
last vestige of Orestes!
I receive you back with hopes so different
from those with which I sent you off.
For now I cup you in my hands, a nothingness;
but then, when I sent you from home,
you were so splendid, darling boy. 1130
O how I wish that I had died
before I rescued you from being killed,
and sheltered you within these arms of mine
to send you to a foreign land.
If you had lain in death that very day,
you would have shared a place in our ancestral tomb:
instead you met your wretched end
away from home, an exile in another land,
far separated from your sister.
And so I could not wash and dress your body
with my caring hands,
nor, as is proper, lift the sad weight
of your ashes from the glowing pyre. 1140
No, you were gathered by a stranger’s hands,
and have come home,
a petty heap within a petty jar.
I think of all the care I took for you back then—
and all for nothing—often lavished on you
labour that I felt was sweet.
You never were your mother’s boy,
not half so much as mine;
and no one in the house was nurse to you but me;
and you would always call me ‘sister’.
Now in just one day all that
has disappeared along with you in death. 1150
You have, like some fierce whirlwind,
snatched it all away:
our father’s gone;
I’ve died because of you;
and you are dead and lost.
Our enemies exult; our mother—no real mother—
is delirious with joy.
Yes her—you often sent me secret messages
to say how you would come
and take revenge on her yourself.
But our bad fortune, yours and mine, has taken
all of that, and sent you to me in this form:
instead of your dear flesh and blood,
this ash and futile shadow.
Ah, ah! So pitiful your body! 1160
Sent on such a dreadful journey!
Ah! You have destroyed me, dearest,
brought destruction on me, brother.
So now please let me in,
receive me into this, your home,
the nothing-me into your nothing-place,
so I may dwell with you below for all of time.
For when you were up here,
I used to share in everything with you;
and now I long to die,
so that I’ll never be deprived
of being with you, even in the grave.
[for I see the dead are subject to no pain°] 1170
Electra, think: you had a mortal father,
and Orestes, he was mortal too.
No use to mourn excessively,
for all of us are bound to pay this debt.
Ah, what should I say? I’m at a loss for words. . . .
I cannot keep control of how I speak.
What is this troubling you? Why speak like that?
Is this the famous° person of Electra? Is this you?
Yes, this is her—and in a wretched state.
What terrible misfortune!
It can’t be me you’re pitying, stranger? 1180
This body so humiliated and mistreated.
Your shocking words fit no one else but me.
To live in such a wretched and unmarried state.
Why, stranger, do you stare at me and grieve like this?
How little have I been aware of my own sorrows.
What has been said that prompts these thoughts?
My seeing you beset by so much suffering.
Yet only few of all my pains are visible.
How could there be things yet more horrible to see?
The way that I am housed with murderers. 1190
Whose murderers? What wrong is this you’re pointing to?
My father’s. And I am enslaved to them by force.
Who is it that imposes this strict rule on you?
She’s called my mother, but she’s nothing like a mother.
What does she do? Use violence? Make life harsh?
She uses force, she makes life hard, and every wrong.
And is there nobody to help or put a stop to this?
Not one. You’ve brought the ashes of the one there was.
Poor woman, I’ve been filled with pity as I look on you.
Well, you’re the only one who’s ever pitied me. 1200
Because I am the only one who’s come to share your pain.
You cannot, can you, be some sort of relative of mine?
I can be open only if these women here are friends.
Yes, they are friends—you can depend on them.
Give back this urn, and then you can know everything.
Orestes takes hold of the urn, but Electra will not let go.
Ah, by the gods I beg you, stranger, don’t do that to me.
Do as I say, and you shall not go wrong.
No, I implore you, do not take away the dearest thing I have.
I tell you, let it go.
O how I grieve for you, Orestes,
if I’m to be deprived of even burying you. 1210
Don’t say unlucky words—you’ve no good reason to lament.
What? No good reason to lament for my own brother?
That kind of language does not fit the situation.
Am I to be deprived of my due rights towards the dead?
You are deprived of nothing. This is not for you.
It is, though, if it is Orestes’ body I am clasping here.
It’s not Orestes’ body—it’s been dressed up with words.
Then where’s that poor man’s final burial place?
It’s nowhere—since the living have no burial.
°What are you saying, boy? 1220
I’m telling you no lies.
You mean the man’s alive?
If I have breath myself.
You mean you’re him?
See here our father’s signet seal—
and now decide if what I say rings true.
Most welcome light of day!
Most welcome, I say yes to that.
Your voice! You have arrived?
No need to call for any other.
They embrace.
I have you in my arms?
And may you ever keep this hold of me.
My dearest women of this city,
here you see Orestes:
he who died to carry out a scheming plan,
and now through scheming has been brought to life.
We see him, daughter. And this happy turn 1230
has filled our eyes with tears of joy.
Part lyric, part spoken dialogue between Electra and Orestes.
°Son of that man dearest,
you’ve arrived here clearly,
found me, seen me, held me,
her that you have yearned for.
Yes, I have come. But wait and make no noise.
What do you mean?
It’s better to stay quiet in case someone inside should hear.
By Artemis the virgin,
I’d not trouble feeling 1240
fear of useless women
inside doing nothing.
Be careful! Women also can be deadly—
you have some experience of that, I think.
Yes, you have reminded
me of dreadful evil,
never clouded over,
not to be forgotten. 1250
I know that too. But when the circumstances tell us,
that will be the time to recollect those deeds.
All, all time in future
may let me express this
fully. But it’s only
now I have the freedom.
I know; and so make sure you keep that freedom safe.
By doing what?
Not speaking long when time’s not right.
Who could bear to stifle 1260
words and change to silence,
now I’ve seen your face here
past all expectation?
You’ve seen it was the gods who spurred me to return.
You declare a blessing
that is overwhelming;
I see this homecoming
as the gods’ endeavour. 1270
I am reluctant to restrain you from rejoicing,
but I fear you may be overcome with jubilation.
After so long a time
you have made this journey.
Do not spoil my gladness;
after my ill-fortune,
don’t begrudge the pleasure
of your face before me. . . .
I’d be angry if I saw that from another.
So you agree? 1280
Of course I do.
Your voice I’ve heard despite
every expectation,
but still restrained my cry,
quelling my elation.
But I embrace you now,
with your face so welcome,
that I could not forget
in my degradation.
Do not spend words beyond what is essential;
so don’t tell me all about our mother’s viciousness,
or how Aegisthus keeps on draining our ancestral wealth 1290
by dissipating it without a care,
since that would merely hold you back
from seizing on this opportunity.
Just tell us what will serve the present situation:
what we should reveal or what conceal
to suit our present quest: to put a stop
to all that laughter from our enemies.
And make quite sure that you don’t let our mother
get suspicious when we’ve gone inside
by wearing a glad look upon your face.
Just keep on grieving as you would
had the catastrophe been truly and not falsely told.
Once that we have success, 1300
we’ll then be free to celebrate and laugh at will.
Dear brother, what you want is also good for me,
since I have got my joy from you and not myself;
so even if I’d found some great gain for myself,
I would not grasp it if it hurt you in the slightest way.
If I did that I’d not be doing service
to the guiding spirit of the moment.
You must have heard about the situation here:
Aegisthus is not now at home;
our mother, though, is here indoors.
And have no fear that she will ever see me 1310
with a happy face—my long-time hatred for her
has been etched too deeply into me.
And now I’ve seen you, I shall still not cease
from weeping tears—for how am I to stop
when, with this one arrival, I have looked upon you
as both dead and as alive?
°You’ve had a strange effect on me,
so much that, if my father were to come before me,
I’d not think it fantasy,
but would believe I really saw him standing there.
So now you’ve come to me the way you have,
command me as you will.
Because, if I’d been left alone,
I would have made quite sure of one of these two things: 1320
either to survive in noble fashion
or else nobly face my death.
Please enter, strangers.
No one would desire to keep you here outdoors,
when you are bringing what you are,
however much it might distress them to receive it.
You stupid thoughtless fools!
Do you not care about your lives?
Are you so lacking any sense that you don’t realize
you’re not just close to deadly danger 1330
but are deep caught up in it?
If I had not been keeping constant watch here by the door,
your doings would have got inside before you did—
but luckily for you I have been looking after this.
So now abandon all this talk, these endless cries of joy,
and get inside.
In situations of this kind delay is bad;
and it’s high time to get it over with.
So what will things be like inside when I go in?
They’re good, since nobody will realize who you are. 1340
I take it you’ve reported that I’m dead?
For them you are a dead man with the shades below.
And are they glad of this? What do they say?
I’ll tell you when it’s over with.
For now, though, everything is fine with them,
including what is not.
Who is this, brother? Tell me, please.
Do you not recognize him?
I don’t understand.
Do you not know the man you gave me to back then?
What are you saying? Who?
This is the one who, thanks to your precaution,
smuggled me away to Phocis. 1350
What? This is him? The one and only person
I found loyal when our father had been killed?
This is the very one. No need ask me more.
You dearest ray of light,
you single saviour of the house of Agamemnon,
how can it be you’ve come
—the very one who rescued him and me
from deepest danger?
Oh dearest hands, dear feet which served so well!
How could you have been there beside me for so long
and not been recognized, not obvious?
Instead you tortured me with words,
while knowing things that proved most sweet for me. 1360
So greetings, father!—for I see you as my father—
greetings! In one single day I have both hated you
the most of anyone, and loved you most as well.
For now, I thank you.
As for what has passed between that time and now,
the many turning days and nights
shall make all clear to you, Electra.
(turning to Orestes and Pylades)
But you two standing here, I say to you:
now is the time to act;
now Clytemnestra is alone;
for now there are no men inside.
But think how, if you put this off, you’ll have to fight 1370
with them and others more in number,
more experienced in fighting skill.
No call for further words, then;
Pylades, let’s turn to action,
and immediately get inside,
as soon as we have greeted the ancestral gods
who have their place within this entrance-way.
Orestes, Pylades, and the old servant all go inside, taking the urn.
O lord Apollo, hear their prayers with favour,
and mine too—I who have often stood and offered you
whatever I could lay my hands upon.
And now, Apollo, taking what I have
I pray, I beg you, I implore: 1380
provide your ready help in carrying out this plan.
And that will show mankind what sort of recompense
the gods dispense for wickedness.
Electra follows them inside.
Ares° breathing blasts of blood
presses on inside;
those unrelenting hounds°
hunt down wicked deeds.
Visions that my mind can see
won’t wait long to be. 1390
He’s advanced to help the dead
with deceitful tread
into the ancestral seat
with blood-sharpened blade.
Hermes° guides the dark deceit
on, on—no long wait.
Electra comes back outside by herself.
Dear women, soon they will be carrying out
the deed. But stay here quiet.
What are they doing at this moment? 1400
She’s decorating round the funeral urn,
while they stand close beside her.
And why have you come hurrying out?
To keep watch and make sure
Aegisthus does not come upon us by surprise.
O help! This building is deserted
by our friends and full of murderers.
Excruciating, yes I did—
it makes me shake with dread!
Ah! No! Aegisthus, where, where can you be?
And there is someone calling out again! 1410
My child, my son, take pity on your mother!
He got no pity, though, from you—
and neither did his father.
O city, dynasty of pain,
your daily fate is in decline!
Ah, ah! I’m stabbed!
Be strong: strike twice as hard!°
Ah, stabbed again!
If only that could be Aegisthus too!
The curses now begin their work;°
the dead below the ground awake.
The killers’ blood flows back in flood, 1420
to be drained down by those long dead.
Enter Orestes and Pylades from the door, with bloody hands.
And here they are, hands dripping with the blood
of violent sacrifice. Yet I do not condemn.
Orestes, how go things?
All good inside the house,
provided that Apollo gave us good advice.
The wretch is dead then?
You need no longer fear humiliation
from your mother’s cruelty.
°<three or four brief lines missing around here>
Stop now, because I can see clear
that there’s Aegisthus coming into view.
Quick, boys, get back inside! 1430
Where do you see the man?
He is approaching from the outskirts—jauntily.
Get back inside, quick as you may:
you have done well, so now do more.
Don’t worry, we’ll complete the job.
Then hurry where you plan to go.
Yes, on my way.
They quickly go back in.
Leave things out here to me.
It would be good for you to pour
soothing words into his ear,
and then he’ll hurry in to face 1440
the ambush Justice sets in place.
Enter Aegisthus briskly from the city direction.
So, which of you can tell me where these Phocians are?
They have reported, so I gather, that Orestes
met his end caught in the wreckage of his chariot.
(seeing Electra) Ah, you! Yes, I’ll ask you,
the woman who till now showed such defiance—
this must affect you most,
and so you will be best informed.
Of course I know, since otherwise I’d be untouched
by what has happened to my dearest kin.
Where are these strangers then? —just tell me that. 1450
Inside, where they have found a genial host.
And did they really tell how he is dead?
They did not only say: they showed it in the flesh.
So I can see, and witness it for sure?
Yes, you can see. It makes a most unenviable sight.°
Your words have given me unusual delight!
Take pleasure then, if you are really pleased at this.
Now open up the doors I say,
so that the Myceneans and the Argives all
can see what is revealed.
And anyone who has been pinning empty hopes 1460
upon this man can look upon his corpse.
And after that they should accept my bridle,
and not wait until it takes hard punishment
to make them sensible.
°Electra opens the stage-doors, and a covered bier with two men [Orestes and Pylades] standing by is revealed.
There! I have done as you command.
With time I’ve learnt it’s best to join the stronger side.
O Zeus, I see a vision here that’s come about
through some divine resentment—
though whether with their righteous anger too I cannot say.°
(to the man by the bier)
Now draw the covering from his face
so that I too may give my kin due lamentation.
You lift it for yourself. It is for you, not me, 1470
to look upon this sight and offer some fond words.
That’s good advice that I accept.
(to the man) And you, go summon Clytemnestra here,
if she is somewhere in the house.
She is already near to you.
No need to look elsewhere.
Ah, what is this I see?
Afraid? Who of? Who don’t you recognize?°
Who are these men? I’ve fallen right into their trap.
Do you not realize that you, still living,
have been holding conversation with the dead?
Ah yes, I understand your meaning.
This man who’s speaking with me here 1480
can be no other than Orestes.
So good at prophecy, and yet so long mistaken!
I’m a dead man, I can see.
Yet let me say just one small thing.
For god’s sake, brother, don’t allow him
any time to talk or go on making speeches,.
[When people are mixed deep in troubles,
how can the one about to die
get any benefit from winning further time?°]
No, kill him quick.
And after killing him, consign him to the buriers
who are right for him,° well out of sight from us.
For me this is the only way for him
to make amends for all his past of wrongs. 1490
You get inside and quick about it.
This contest is not one of words: it’s for your life.
Why are you taking me indoors?
What need of darkness if this deed is good?
Why are you not prepared to strike right here?
Don’t tell me what to do.
Go in to where you killed my father,
so you die in that same place.
Is it inevitable that this house should witness
all the horrors of the dynasty of Pelops,
both those present and to come?°
Well yours at least.
I am an expert prophet of this much.
Your father could not claim to have such skill! 1500
A lot of answering back, while your departure
gets delayed. Go in.
You lead.
No, you must go in front.
Afraid I might escape from you?
I don’t want you to die with any sweetening:
I want to make quite sure it’s sour.
[This punishment should fall upon all those
who want to act outside the laws: yes, death.
Then criminality would not be rife.°]
Aegisthus is forced inside by Orestes and Pylades, followed by Electra.
So, you dynasty of Atreus,
you’ve emerged from tribulations,
struggling into liberation,
ended with this present action.° 1510
The chorus depart towards the city.