Aeschylus Agamemnon 1455

CHOROS.

Alas, that some

Fate would come

Upon us in quickness —

Neither much sickness

Neither bed-keeping —

1450

And bear unended sleeping,

Now that subdued

Is our keeper, the kindest of mood!

Having borne, for a woman’s sake, much strife —

By a woman he withered from life!

Ah me!

1455

Law-breaking Helena who, one,

Hast many, so many souls undone

’Neath Troia! and now the consummated

Much-memorable curse

Hast thou made flower-forth, red

With the blood no rains disperse,

1460

That which was then in the House —

Strife all-subduing, the woe of a spouse.

KLUTAIMNESTRA.

Nowise, of death the fate —

Burdened by these things — supplicate!

Nor on Helena turn thy wrath

As the man-destroyer, as she who hath,

1465

Being but one,

Many and many a soul undone

Of the men, the Danaoi —

And wrought immense annoy!

CHOROS.

Daimon, who fallest

Upon this household and the double-raced

Tantalidai, a rule, minded like theirs displaced,

Thou rulest me with, now,

1470

Whose heart thou gallest!

And on the body, like a hateful crow,

Stationed, all out of tune, his chant to chant

Doth Something vaunt!

KLUTAIMNESTRA.

Now, of a truth, hast thou set upright

1475

Thy mouth’s opinion, —

Naming the Sprite,

The triply gross,

O’er the race that has dominion:

For through him it is that Eros

The carnage-licker

In the belly is bred: ere ended quite

Is the elder throe — new ichor!

1480

CHOROS.

Certainly, great of might

And heavy of wrath, the Sprite

Thou tellest of, in the palace

(Woe, woe!)

— An evil tale of a fate

1485

By Até’s malice

Rendered insatiate!

Oh, oh, —

King, king, how shall I beweep thee?

1490

From friendly soul whatever say?

Thou liest where webs of the spider o’ersweep thee

In impious death, life breathing away.

O me — me!

This couch, not free.

By a slavish death subdued thou art,

1495

From the hand, by the two-edged dart.

KLUTAIMNESTRA.

Thou boastest this deed to be mine:

But leave off styling me

The Agamemnonian wife!

For, showing himself in sign

1500

Of the spouse of the corpse thou dost see,

Did the ancient bitter avenging-ghost

Of Atreus, savage host,

Pay the man here as price —

A full-grown for the young one’s sacrifice.

CHOROS.

That no cause, indeed, of this killing art thou,

1505

Who shall be witness-bearer?

How shall he bear it — how?

But the sire’s avenging-ghost might be in the deed a sharer.

He is forced on and on

By the kin-born flowing of blood,

1510

— Black Ares: to where, having gone,

He shall leave off, flowing done,

At the frozen-child’s-flesh food.

King, king, how shall I beweep thee?

From friendly soul whatever say?

Thou liest where webs of the spider o’ersweep thee

1515

In impious death, life breathing away.

O me — me!

This couch, not free!

By a slavish death subdued thou art,

From the hand, by the two-edged dart.

1520

KLUTAIMNESTRA.

No death unfit for the free

Do I think this man’s to be:

For did not himself a slavish curse

To his household decree?

But the scion of him, myself did nurse —

1525

That much-bewailed Iphigeneia, he

Having done well by, — and as well, nor worse,

Been done to, — let him not in Haides loudly

Bear himself proudly!

Being by sword-destroying death amerced

For that sword’s punishment himself inflicted first.

CHOROS.

I at a loss am left —

1530

Of a feasible scheme of mind bereft —

Where I may turn: for the house is falling:

I fear the bloody crash of the rain

That ruins the roof as it bursts amain:

The warning-drop

Has come to a stop.

Destiny doth Justice whet

1535

For other deed of hurt, on other whetstones yet.

Woe, earth, earth — would thou hadst taken me

Ere I saw the man I see,

On the pallet-bed

Of the silver-sided bath-vase, dead!

1540

Who is it shall bury him, who

Sing his dirge? Can it be true

That thou wilt dare this same to do —

Having slain thy husband, thine own,

To make his funeral moan:

And for the soul of him, in place

1545

Of his mighty deeds, a graceless grace

To wickedly institute? By whom

Shall the tale of praise o’er the tomb

At the god-like man be sent —

From the truth of his mind as he toils intent?

1550

KLUTAIMNESTRA.

It belongs not to thee to declare

This object of care!

By us did he fall — down there!

Did he die — down there! and down, no less,

We will bury him there, and not beneath

The wails of the household over his death:

But Iphigeneia, — with kindliness, —

1555

His daughter, — as the case requires,

Facing him full, at the rapid-flowing

Passage of Groans shall — both hands throwing

Around him — kiss that kindest of sires!

CHOROS.

This blame comes in the place of blame:

1560

Hard battle it is to judge each claim.

He is borne away who bears away:

And the killer has all to pay.

And this remains while Zeus is remaining,

The doer shall suffer in time — for, such his ordaining.

Who may cast out of the House its cursed brood?

1565

The race is to Até glued!

KLUTAIMNESTRA.

Thou hast gone into this oracle

With a true result. For me, then, — I will

— To the Daimon of the Pleisthenidai

Making an oath — with all these things comply

1570

Hard as they are to bear. For the rest —

Going from out this House, a guest,

May he wear some other family

To nought, with the deaths of kin by kin!

And, — keeping a little part of my goods, —

Wholly am I contented in

Having expelled from the royal House

These frenzied moods

1575

The mutually-murderous.

SEMI-CHORUS

NOW too, thou hast perfectly accomplished by an inexpiable murder the memorable strife-begotten strife which formerly existed in the house, a bane to its master 3

.

CLYTEMNESTRA

CLYTEMNESTRA.

CLITENNESTRA

Che giova l'augurio di morte

per questa sciagura

che il cuore ti grava?

1705

Che giova lo sdegno rivolger contro Elena,

che fu di mortali sterminio,

che, sola, distrutta la vita

d'innumeri Dànai,

aprí non mai chiusa ferita!

1710

CORIFEO

1

Dèmone infesto, che sovra la casa

che sovra i due figli

di Tantalo piombi, che spingi la possa

l'uguale audacia di femmine ond'io

sento il mio cuore sbranato!

1715

E si pianta,

infesto corvo, sovresso il cadavere,

s'esalta, e un inno esecrabile canta!

COREUTA

Ahimè, Elena, Elena stolta,

che tante e tante anime, sotto

1720

le mura di Troia, tu sola, hai perdute!

Discordia, e tu, flagel di questa reggia,

onde spenta uno sposo ebbe sua vita,

per te, di nobil sangue incancellabile

s'aperse una ferita.

1725

CLITENNESTRA

Clytemnestra.

Klytämnestra.