The Electra of Euripides Part 12

LEADER.

I know not. Many confused voices cry...

ELECTRA.

Death, then for me! That answer bids me die.

LEADER.

Nay, wait! We know not yet thy fortune. Wait!

ELECTRA.

No messenger from him!--Too late, too late!

LEADER.

The message yet will come. 'Tis not a thing So light of compa.s.s, to strike down a king.

_Enter a_ MESSENGER, _running_.

MESSENGER.

Victory, Maids of Argos, Victory!

Orestes ... all that love him, list to me!...

Hath conquered! Agamemnon's murderer lies Dead! O give thanks to G.o.d with happy cries!

ELECTRA.

Who art thou? I mistrust thee.... 'Tis a plot!

MESSENGER.

Thy brother's man. Look well. Dost know me not?

ELECTRA.

Friend, friend; my terror made me not to see Thy visage. Now I know and welcome thee.

How sayst thou? He is dead, verily dead, My father's murderer...?

MESSENGER.

Shall it be said Once more? I know again and yet again Thy heart would hear. Aegisthus lieth slain!

ELECTRA.

Ye G.o.ds! And thou, O Right, that seest all, Art come at last?... But speak; how did he fall?

How swooped the wing of death?... I crave to hear.

MESSENGER.

Forth of this hut we set our faces clear To the world, and struck the open chariot road; Then on toward the pasture lands, where stood The great Lord of Mycenae. In a set Garden beside a channelled rivulet, Culling a myrtle garland for his brow, He walked: but hailed us as we pa.s.sed: "How now, Strangers! Who are ye? Of what city sprung, And whither bound?" "Thessalians," answered young Orestes: "to Alpheus journeying, With gifts to Olympian Zeus." Whereat the king: "This while, beseech you, tarry, and make full The feast upon my hearth. We slay a bull Here to the Nymphs. Set forth at break of day To-morrow, and 'twill cost you no delay.

But come"--and so he gave his hand, and led The two men in--"I must not be gainsaid; Come to the house. Ho, there; set close at hand Vats of pure water, that the guests may stand At the altar's verge, where falls the holy spray."

Then quickly spake Orestes: "By the way We cleansed us in a torrent stream. We need No purifying here. But if indeed Strangers may share thy worship, here are we Ready, O King, and swift to follow thee."

So spoke they in the midst. And every thrall Laid down the spears they served the King withal, And hied him to the work. Some bore amain The death-vat, some the corbs of hallowed grain; Or kindled fire, and round the fire and in Set cauldrons foaming; and a festal din Filled all the place. Then took thy mother's lord The ritual grains, and o'er the altar poured Its due, and prayed: "O Nymphs of Rock and Mere, With many a sacrifice for many a year, May I and she who waits at home for me, My Tyndarid Queen, adore you. May it be Peace with us always, even as now; and all Ill to mine enemies"--meaning withal Thee and Orestes. Then my master prayed Against that prayer, but silently, and said No word, to win once more his fatherland.

Then in the corb Aegisthus set his hand, Took the straight blade, cut from the proud bull's head A lock, and laid it where the fire was red; Then, while the young men held the bull on high, Slew it with one clean gash; and suddenly Turned on thy brother: "Stranger, every true Thessalian, so the story goes, can hew A bull's limbs clean, and tame a mountain steed.

Take up the steel, and show us if indeed Rumour speak true," Right swift Orestes took The Dorian blade, back from his shoulders shook His brooched mantle, called on Pylades To aid him, and waved back the thralls. With ease Heelwise he held the bull, and with one glide Bared the white limb; then stripped the mighty hide From off him, swifter than a runner runs His furlongs, and laid clean the flank. At once Aegisthus stooped, and lifted up with care The ominous parts, and gazed. No lobe was there; But lo, strange caves of gall, and, darkly raised, The portal vein boded to him that gazed Fell visitations. Dark as night his brow Clouded. Then spake Orestes: "Why art thou Cast down so sudden?" "Guest," he cried, "there be Treasons from whence I know not, seeking me.

Of all my foes, 'tis Agamemnon's son; His hate is on my house, like war." "Have done!"

Orestes cried: "thou fear'st an exile's plot, Lord of a city? Make thy cold heart hot With meat.--Ho, fling me a Thessalian steel!

This Dorian is too light. I will unseal The breast of him." He took the heavier blade, And clave the bone. And there Aegisthus stayed, The omens in his hand, dividing slow This sign from that; till, while his head bent low, Up with a leap thy brother flashed the sword, Then down upon his neck, and cleft the cord Of brain and spine. Shuddering the body stood One instant in an agony of blood, And gasped and fell. The henchmen saw, and straight Flew to their spears, a host of them to set Against those twain. But there the twain did stand Unfaltering, each his iron in his hand, Edge fronting edge. Till "Hold," Orestes calls: "I come not as in wrath against these walls And mine own people. One man righteously I have slain, who slew my father. It is I, The wronged Orestes! Hold, and smite me not, Old housefolk of my father!" When they caught That name, their lances fell. And one old man, An ancient in the house, drew nigh to scan His face, and knew him. Then with one accord They crowned thy brother's temples, and outpoured joy and loud songs. And hither now he fares To show the head, no Gorgon, that he bears, But that Aegisthus whom thou hatest! Yea, Blood against blood, his debt is paid this day.

[_He goes off to meet the others_--ELECTRA _stands as though stupefied_.

CHORUS.

Now, now thou shalt dance in our dances, Beloved, as a fawn in the night!

The wind is astir for the glances Of thy feet; thou art robed with delight.

He hath conquered, he cometh to free us With garlands new-won, More high than the crowns of Alpheus, Thine own father's son: Cry, cry, for the day that is won!

ELECTRA.

O Light of the Sun, O chariot wheels of flame, O Earth and Night, dead Night without a name That held me! Now mine eyes are raised to see, And all the doorways of my soul flung free.

Aegisthus dead! My father's murderer dead!

What have I still of wreathing for the head Stored in my chambers? Let it come forth now To bind my brother's and my conqueror's brow.

[_Some garlands are brought out from the house to_ ELECTRA.

CHORUS.

Go, gather thy garlands, and lay them As a crown on his brow, many-tressed, But our feet shall refrain not nor stay them: 'Tis the joy that the Muses have blest.

For our king is returned as from prison, The old king, to be master again, Our beloved in justice re-risen: With guile he hath slain...

But cry, cry in joyance again!

[_There enter from the left_ ORESTES _and_ PYLADES, _followed by some thralls_.

ELECTRA.

O conqueror, come! The king that trampled Troy Knoweth his son Orestes. Come in joy, Brother, and take to bind thy rippling hair My crowns!.... O what are crowns, that runners wear For some vain race? But thou in battle true Hast felled our foe Aegisthus, him that slew By craft thy sire and mine. [_She crowns_ ORESTES.

And thou no less, O friend at need, O reared in righteousness, Take, Pylades, this chaplet from my hand.

'Twas half thy battle. And may ye two stand Thus alway, victory-crowned, before my face! [_She crowns_ PYLADES.

ORESTES.

Electra, first as workers of this grace Praise thou the G.o.ds, and after, if thou will, Praise also me, as chosen to fulfil G.o.d's work and Fate's.--Aye, 'tis no more a dream; In very deed I come from slaying him.

Thou hast the knowledge clear, but lo, I bring More also. See himself, dead!