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Exit Teucer.
167
Helen
Oh, as I begin the great lament of my great distress,
what mourning shall I strive to utter? or what Muse shall I approach with tears or songs of death or woe? Alas!
165
Oh, as I begin the great lament of my great distress,
what mourning shall I strive to utter? or what Muse shall I approach with tears or songs of death or woe? Alas!
165
Helen
Winged maidens, virgin daughters of Earth, the Sirens, may you come to my mourning
with Libyan flute or pipe or lyre, tears to match my plaintive woes; grief for grief and mournful chant for chant, may Persephone send choirs of death
170
in harmony with my lamentation, so that she may receive as thanks from me, in addition to my tears, a paean for the departed dead beneath her gloomy roof.
175
Winged maidens, virgin daughters of Earth, the Sirens, may you come to my mourning
with Libyan flute or pipe or lyre, tears to match my plaintive woes; grief for grief and mournful chant for chant, may Persephone send choirs of death
170
in harmony with my lamentation, so that she may receive as thanks from me, in addition to my tears, a paean for the departed dead beneath her gloomy roof.
175
Chorus
Beside the deep-blue water
and on the tangled grass, I happened to be drying purple robes in the sun’s golden blaze near the young reed shoots; from my mistress, from where she cried aloud her misery,
180
I heard a sound, a mournful song not fit for the lyre, because she was then shrieking, lamenting with her wails; just as a Naiad nymph, who sends a song of woe ringing over the hills, cries out, under the rocky hollows, with screams
185
at the rape of Pan.
190
Beside the deep-blue water
and on the tangled grass, I happened to be drying purple robes in the sun’s golden blaze near the young reed shoots; from my mistress, from where she cried aloud her misery,
180
I heard a sound, a mournful song not fit for the lyre, because she was then shrieking, lamenting with her wails; just as a Naiad nymph, who sends a song of woe ringing over the hills, cries out, under the rocky hollows, with screams
185
at the rape of Pan.
190
Helen
Oh! Oh! Maidens of
Hellas
, the prey of barbarian sailors! An Achaean sailor
came, he came bringing tears upon tears to me.
Ilion
has been destroyed and is left to the enemy’s fire through me, the death-giver, through my name, full of suffering.
195
Leda sought death by hanging, in anguish over my disgrace. My husband, after much wandering in the sea, has died and is gone;
200
and Castor and his brother, twin glory of their native land, have vanished, vanished, leaving the plains that shook to their galloping horses,
205
and the schools of reed-fringed Eurotas, scene of youthful labors.
210
Oh! Oh! Maidens of
Hellas
, the prey of barbarian sailors! An Achaean sailor
came, he came bringing tears upon tears to me.
Ilion
has been destroyed and is left to the enemy’s fire through me, the death-giver, through my name, full of suffering.
195
Leda sought death by hanging, in anguish over my disgrace. My husband, after much wandering in the sea, has died and is gone;
200
and Castor and his brother, twin glory of their native land, have vanished, vanished, leaving the plains that shook to their galloping horses,
205
and the schools of reed-fringed Eurotas, scene of youthful labors.
210
Chorus
Alas, alas! for your mournful fate and destiny, lady! You were fated, fated to have a life full of pain, when Zeus begot you on your mother,
shining through the air on the wings of a snow-white swan. What evil is not yours? What life have you not endured? Your mother is dead;
215
the twin beloved sons of Zeus do not enjoy happiness; and you do not see your fatherland, while through the cities a rumor goes, mistress, which hands you over
220
to the bed of a barbarian; your husband has lost his life in the salty waves, and never again will you bring glee to your father’s halls and Athene of the Bronze House.
225
Alas, alas! for your mournful fate and destiny, lady! You were fated, fated to have a life full of pain, when Zeus begot you on your mother,
shining through the air on the wings of a snow-white swan. What evil is not yours? What life have you not endured? Your mother is dead;
215
the twin beloved sons of Zeus do not enjoy happiness; and you do not see your fatherland, while through the cities a rumor goes, mistress, which hands you over
220
to the bed of a barbarian; your husband has lost his life in the salty waves, and never again will you bring glee to your father’s halls and Athene of the Bronze House.
225
Helen
Ah! Who was it, either from
Phrygia
or from Hellas, who cut the pine that brought tears to
Ilion
? From this wood the son of Priam built his deadly ship, and sailed by barbarian oars
230
to my home, to that most ill-fated beauty, to win me as his wife; and with him sailed deceitful and murderous Kypris, bearing death for the Danaans.
235
Oh, unhappy in my misfortune! But Hera, the holy beloved of Zeus on her golden throne, sent the swift-footed son of
Maia
. I was gathering fresh rose leaves in the folds of my robe,
240
so that I might go to the goddess of the Bronze House; he carried me off through the air to this luckless land, and made me an object of miserable strife, of strife between
Hellas
and the sons of Priam. And my name
245
beside the streams of Simois bears a false rumor.
250
Ah! Who was it, either from
Phrygia
or from Hellas, who cut the pine that brought tears to
Ilion
? From this wood the son of Priam built his deadly ship, and sailed by barbarian oars
230
to my home, to that most ill-fated beauty, to win me as his wife; and with him sailed deceitful and murderous Kypris, bearing death for the Danaans.
235
Oh, unhappy in my misfortune! But Hera, the holy beloved of Zeus on her golden throne, sent the swift-footed son of
Maia
. I was gathering fresh rose leaves in the folds of my robe,
240
so that I might go to the goddess of the Bronze House; he carried me off through the air to this luckless land, and made me an object of miserable strife, of strife between
Hellas
and the sons of Priam. And my name
245
beside the streams of Simois bears a false rumor.
250
Helen. Euripides. Edward P. Coleridge (Translator). London. 1906.
Sponsored by Perseus Project, Tufts University.
Funding provided by The Annenberg CPB/Project.