Euripides Andromache 1047

Peleus

Ye dames of Phthia, answer my questions. I heard a vague rumour that the daughter of Menelaus had left these halls

and fled; so now am I come in hot haste to learn if this be true; for it is the duty of those who are at home to labour in the interests of their absent friends.

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Chorus

Thou hast heard aright, O Peleus; ill would it become me to hide the evil case in which I now find myself;

our queen has fled and left these halls.

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Peleus

What was she afraid of? explain that to me.

Chorus

She was fearful her lord would cast her out

Peleus

In return ¹ for plotting his child’s death? surely not?

Chorus

Yea, and she was afraid of yon captive.

Peleus

With whom did she leave the house? with her father?

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Chorus

The son of Agamemnon came and took her hence.

Peleus

What view hath he to further ² thereby? Will he marry her?

Chorus

Yes, and he is plotting thy grandson’s death.

Peleus

From an ambuscade, or meeting him fairly face to face?

Chorus

In the holy place of Loxias, leagued with Delphians.

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Peleus

God help us! This is an immediate danger. Hasten one of you with all speed to the Pythian altar and tell our friends there what has happened here, ere Achilles’ son be slain by his enemies. Enter a Messenger.

Messenger

Woe worth the day! what evil tidings have I brought for thee, old sire, and for all who love my master! woe is me!

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Peleus

Alas! my prophetic soul hath a presentiment.

Messenger

Aged Peleus, hearken! Thy grandson is no more; so grievously is he smitten

by the men of Delphi and the stranger ³ from Mycenae.

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Chorus

Ah! what wilt thou do, old man? Fall not; uplift thyself.

Peleus

I am a thing of naught; death is come upon me. My voice is choked, my limbs droop beneath me.

Messenger

Hearken; if thou art eager also ⁴ to avenge thy friends,

lift up thyself and hear what happened.

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Peleus

Ah, destiny! how tightly hast thou caught me in thy toils, a poor old man at life’s extremest verge! But tell me how he was taken from me, my one son’s only child; unwelcome as such news is, I fain would hear it.

Messenger

As soon as we reached the famous soil of Phoebus, for three whole days were we feasting our eyes with the sight. And this, it seems, caused suspicion; for the folk, who dwell near the god’s shrine, began to collect in groups,

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while Agamemnon’s son, going to and fro through the town, would whisper in each man’s ear malignant hints: Do ye see yon fellow, going in and out of the god’s treasure-chambers, which are full of the gold stored there by all mankind? He is come hither a second time on the same mission as before,

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eager to sack the temple of Phoebus. Thereon there ran an angry murmur through the city, and the magistrates flocked to their council-chamber, while those, who have charge of the god’s treasures, had a guard privately placed amongst the colonnades.

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But we, knowing naught as yet of this, took sheep fed in the pastures of Parnassus, and went our way and stationed ourselves at the altars with vouchers and Pythian seers. And one said: What prayer, young warrior,

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wouldst thou have us offer to the god? Wherefore art thou come? And he answered: I wish to make atonement to Phoebus for my past transgression; for once I claimed from him satisfaction for my father’s blood. Thereupon the rumour, spread by Orestes, proved to have great weight,

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suggesting that my master was lying and had come on a shameful errand. But he crosses the threshold of the temple to pray to Phoebus before his oracle, ⁵ and was busy with his burnt-offering; when a body of men armed with swords set themselves ⁶ in ambush against him

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in the cover of the bay- trees, and Clytemnestra’s son, that had contrived the whole plot was one of them. There stood the young man praying to the god in sight of all, when lo! with their sharp swords they stabbed Achilles’ unprotected son from behind.

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But he stepped back, for it was not a mortal wound he had received, and drew his sword, and snatching armour from the pegs where it hung on a pillar, took his stand upon the altar-steps, the picture of a warrior grim; then cried he to the sons of Delphi, and asked them:

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Why seek to slay me when I am come on a holy mission? What cause is there why I should die? But of all that throng of bystanders, no man answered him a word, but they set to hurling stones. Then he, though bruised and battered by the showers of missiles from all sides,

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covered ⁷ himself behind his mail and tried to ward off the attack, holding his shield first here, then there, at arm’s length, but all of no avail; for a storm of darts, arrows and javelins, hurtling spits with double points, and butchers’ knives for slaying steers, came flying at his feet;

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and terrible was the war-dance thou hadst then seen thy grandson dance to avoid their marksmanship. At last, when they were hemming him in on all sides, allowing him no breathing space, he left the shelter of the altar, the hearth where victims are placed, and with one bound was on them as on the Trojans of yore;

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and they turned and fled like doves when they see the hawk. Many fell in the confusion; some wounded, and others trodden down by one another along the narrow passages; and in that hushed holy house uprose unholy din

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and echoed back from the rocks. Calm and still my master stood there in his gleaming harness like a flash of light, till from the inmost shrine there came a voice of thrilling horror, stirring the crowd to make a stand. Then fell Achilles’ son,

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smitten through the flank by some Delphian’s biting blade, some fellow that slew him with a host to help; and as he fell, there was not one that did not stab him, or cast a rock and batter his corpse. So his whole body,

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once so fair, was marred with savage wounds. At last they cast the lifeless clay, lying near the altar, forth from the fragrant fane. And we gathered up his remains forthwith and are bringing them to thee,

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old prince, to mourn and weep and honour with a deep-dug tomb.

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This is how that prince who vouchsafeth oracles to others, that judge of what is right for all the world, hath revenged himself on Achilles’ son, remembering his ancient quarrel as a wicked man would.

How then can he be wise? Exit Messenger. The body of Neoptolemus is carried in on a bier.

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