Euripides Rhesus 1-51

Chorus

Enter the Chorus of Trojan guards. Go to Hector’s couch. Which of you squires that tend the prince, or you armor-clad men, is awake? He ought to receive fresh tidings

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from the warriors who were set to guard the assembled army during the fourth watch of the night. Calls to Hector in the tent. Lift up your head! Prop your arm beneath it! Unseal that fierce eye from its repose; quit your lowly couch of scattered leaves,

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Hector! It is time to hearken.

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Hector

Who is this? Is it a friend who calls? Who are you? Your password? Speak! Who are these who come near my couch in the night? You must tell me.

Chorus

Sentinels of the army.

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Hector

Why this tumultuous haste?

Chorus

Be of good courage.

Hector

I am.

Is there some midnight ambush?

Chorus

No.

Hector

Why do you desert your post and rouse the army, unless you have some tidings of the night?

Are you not aware how near the Argive army we take our night’s repose clad in all our armor?

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Chorus

To arms! Hector, seek your allies’ sleeping camp!

Stir them up to wield the spear! Awake them! Despatch a friend to your own company, bridle the horses. Who will go to the son of Panthus? Who to Europa’s son, captain of the Lycian band?

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Where are they who should inspect the victims? Where are the leaders of the light-armed troops and the Phrygian archers? String your horn-tipped bows!

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Hector

Your tidings inspire now fear,

now confidence; nothing is plainly set forth. Can it be that you are smitten with wild fear by Pan, the son of Cronion? Leaving your watch you rouse the army. What does your noisy summons mean? What tidings can I say you bring? Your words are many,

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but no plain statement have you made.

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Chorus

The long night through, Hector, the Argive army has kindled fires, and bright with torches shines the anchored fleet. To Agamemnon’s tent the whole army

move clamorously by night, eager for fresh orders; for never before has the sea-faring company been so alarmed. And so I was suspicious of what might happen

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and came to tell you, so that you may have no cause to blame me hereafter.

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VARIOUS VOICES.

It is a cloudy but moonlight night on the plain before Troy . The Trojans and their allies have won a decisive victory and are camping on the open field close to the Greek outposts. The scene is in front of a rude tent or hut that has been set up for HECTOR, the Trojan leader. A watch-fire burns low in front. Far off at the back can be seen rows of watch-fires in the Greek camp. The road to Troy is in front to the left; the road to Mount Ida leads far away to the right. All is silence; then a noise outside. Enter tumultuously a band of Trojan Pickets. ¹

On to the Prince’s quarters!—Ho!

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Who is awake? What man-at-arms,

Or squire or groom?—Let Hector know

New rumour of alarms

From sentinels who stand at mark

The four long watches of the dark,

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While others sleep.—Uplift thine head,

O Hector! On thine elbow rise,

Unhood the eagle of thine eyes,

Up from thy leaf-strewn bed!—

Lord Hector!

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HECTOR

(coming out from the tent).

Who goes there? Who cries?

A friend? The watchword! . . . By what right

Do men come prowling in the night

Across my quarters? Come! Speak out.

LEADER.

A picket, Lord.

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HECTOR.

In such a rout?

LEADER.

Be not afraid, Lord.

HECTOR.

I am not.

Is there an ambush? No? Then what,

In God’s name, brings you from your post

With no clear tale to speak,

To spread this turmoil through a host

That lies in harness—do ye all

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Know nothing?—out against the wall

And gateways of the Greek?

CHORUS.

(various voices confusedly) ²

To arms! To arms, Lord Hector!—Send

First where the allied armies lie,

Bid them draw sword and make an end

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Of sleep.—Let someone fly

And get the horses’ armour on!—

Who goes with me to Panthoös’ son?—

Who’s for Sarpêdon and the Lycians?—None

Hath seen the priest ³ go by?—

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Ho, Captain of the Runners, ho!—

Ho, Trojans of the hornèd bow!

String, string! For need is nigh.

HECTOR.

Ha, silence there! . . .

First words of fear,

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Then comfort. All an empty swell!

It seems The lash of trembling Pan ⁴

Hath caught you. Speak, if speak ye can.

What tidings? Not a word is clear

Of the whole tale ye tell.

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LEADER.

⁵

Great beacons in the Argive line ⁶

Have burned, my chief, through half the night.

The shipyard timbers ⁷ seemed to shine.

Then, clear against the light,

Toward Agamemnon’s tent the whole

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Army in tumult seemed to roll,

As stirred by some strange voice, shoal after shoal.

A night of such discord

Was never seen. And we, in dread

What such things boded, turned and sped

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Hither; dost blame us, Lord?