KLUTAIMNESTRA.

Soon shall we know — of these light-bearing torches,

And beacons and exchanges, fire with fire —

If they are true, indeed, or if, dream-fashion,

490

This gladsome light came and deceived our judgment.

Yon herald from the shore I see, o’ershadowed

With boughs of olive: dust, mud’s thirsty brother,

Close neighbours on his garb, thus testify me

That neither voiceless, nor yet kindling for thee

495

Mountain-wood-flame, shall he explain by fire-smoke:

But either tell out more the joyance, speaking ..

Word contrary to which, I aught but love it!

For may good be — to good that’s known — appendage!

CHOROS.

Whoever prays for aught else to this city

500

— May he himself reap fruit of his mind’s error!

HERALD.

Ha, my forefathers’ soil of earth Argeian!

Thee, in this year’s tenth light, am I returned to —

Of many broken hopes, on one hope chancing;

For never prayed I, in this earth Argeian

505

Dying, to share my part in tomb the dearest.

Now, hail thou earth, and hail thou also, sunlight,

And Zeus, the country’s lord, and king the Puthian

From bow no longer urging at us arrows!

Enough, beside Skamandros, cam’st thou adverse:

510

Now, contrary, be saviour thou and healer,

O king Apollon! And gods conquest-granting,

All — I invoke too, and my tutelary

Hermes, dear herald, heralds’ veneration, —

And Heroes our forthsenders, — friendly, once more

515

The army to receive, the war-spear’s leavings!

Ha, mansions of my monarchs, roofs beloved,

And awful seats, and deities sun-fronting —

Receive with pomp your monarch, long time absent!

For he comes bringing light in night-time to you,

520

In common with all these — king Agamemnon.

But kindly greet him — for clear shows your duty —

Who has dug under Troia with the mattock

Of Zeus the Avenger, whereby plains are out-ploughed,

Altars unrecognizable, and gods’ shrines,

525

And the whole land’s seed thoroughly has perished.

And such a yoke-strap having cast round Troia ,

The elder king Atreides, happy man — he

Comes to be honoured, worthiest of what mortals

Now are. Nor Paris nor the accomplice-city

530

Outvaunts their deed as more than they are done-by:

For, in a suit for rape and theft found guilty,

He missed of plunder and, in one destruction,

Fatherland, house and home has mowed to atoms:

Debts the Priamidai have paid twice over.

535

CHOROS.

Hail, herald from the army of Achaians!

HERALD.

I hail: — to die, will gainsay gods no longer!

CHOROS.

Love of this fatherland did exercise thee?

540

HERALD.

So that I weep, at least, with joy, my eyes full.

CHOROS.

What, of this gracious sickness were ye gainers?

HERALD.

How now? instructed, I this speech shall master.

CHOROS.

For those who loved you back, with longing stricken.

HERALD.

This land yearned for the yearning army, say’st thou?

545

CHOROS.

So as to set me oft, from dark mind, groaning.

HERALD.

Whence came this ill mind — hatred to the army?

CHOROS.

Of old, I use, for mischiefs physic, silence.

HERALD.

And how, the chiefs away, did you fear any?

CHOROS.

So that now, — late thy word, — much joy were — dying!

550

HERALD.

For well have things been worked out: these, — in much time,

Some of them, one might say, had luck in falling,

While some were faulty: since who, gods excepted,

Goes, through the whole time of his life, ungrieving?

For labours should I tell of, and bad lodgments,

555

Narrow deckways ill-strewn, too, — what the day’s woe

We did not groan at getting for our portion?

As for land-things, again, on went more hatred!

Since beds were ours hard by the foemen’s ramparts,

And, out of heaven and from the earth, the meadow

560

Dews kept a-sprinkle, an abiding damage

Of vestures, making hair a wild-beast matting.

Winter, too, if one told of it — bird-slaying —

Such as, unbearable, Idaian snow brought —

Or heat, when waveless, on its noontide couches

565

Without a wind, the sea would slumber falling

— Why must one mourn these? O’er and gone is labour:

O’er and gone is it, even to those dead ones,

So that no more again they mind uprising.

Why must we tell in numbers those deprived ones,

570

And the live man be vexed with fate’s fresh outbreak?

Rather, I bid full farewell to misfortunes!

For us, the left from out the Argeian army,

The gain beats, nor does sorrow counterbalance.

So that ’t is fitly boasted of, this sunlight,

575

By us, o’er sea and land the aery flyers,

Troia at last taking, the band of Argives

Hang up such trophies to the gods of Hellas

Within their domes — new glory to grow ancient!

Such things men having heard must praise the city

580

And army-leaders: and the grace which wrought them —

Of Zeus, shall honoured be. Thou hast my whole word.

CHOROS.

O’ercome by words, their sense I do not gainsay.

For, aye this breeds youth in the old — to learn well.

But these things most the house and Klutaimnestra

585

Concern, ’t is likely: while they make me rich, too.

KLUTAIMNESTRA.

I shouted long ago, indeed, for joyance,

When came that first night-messenger of fire

Proclaiming Ilion ’s capture and dispersion.

And someone, girding me, said, Through fire-bearers

590

Persuaded — Troia to be sacked now, thinkest?

Truly, the woman’s way, — high to lift heart up!

By such words I was made seem wit-bewildered:

Yet still I sacrificed; and, — female-song with, —

A shout one man and other, through the city,

595

Set up, congratulating in the gods’ seats,

Soothing the incense-eating flame right fragrant.

And now, what’s more, indeed, why need’st thou tell me?

I of the king himself shall learn the whole word:

And, — as may best be, — I my revered husband

600

Shall hasten, as he comes back, to receive: for —

What’s to a wife sweeter to see than this light

(Her husband, by the god saved, back from warfare)

So as to open gates? This tell my husband —

To come at soonest to his loving city.

605

A faithful wife at home may he find, coming!

Such an one as he left — the dog o’ the household —

Trusty to him, adverse to the ill-minded,

And, in all else, the same: no signet-impress

Having done harm to, in that time’s duration.

610

I know nor pleasure, nor blameworthy converse

With any other man more than — bronze-dippings!

HERALD.

Such boast as this — brimful of the veracious —

Is, for a high-born dame, not bad to send forth!

CHOROS.

Ay, she spoke thus to thee — that hast a knowledge

615

From clear interpreters — a speech most seemly.

But speak thou, herald! Meneleos I ask of:

If he, returning, back in safety also

Will come with you — this land’s beloved chieftain?

HERALD.

There’s no way I might say things false and pleasant

620

For friends to reap the fruits of through a long time.

CHOROS.

How then if, speaking good, things true thou chance on?

HERALD.

For not well-hidden things become they, sundered.

The man has vanished from the Achaic army,

He and his ship too. I announce no falsehood.

625

CHOROS.

Whether forth-putting openly from Ilion ,

Or did storm — wide woe — snatch him from the army?

HERALD.

Like topping bowman, thou hast touched the target,

And a long sorrow hast succinctly spoken.

CHOROS.

Whether, then, of him, as a live or dead man

630

Was the report by other sailors bruited?

HERALD.

Nobody knows so as to tell out clearly

Excepting Helios who sustains earth’s nature.

CHOROS.

How say’st thou then, did storm the naval army

Attack and end, by the celestials’ anger?

635

HERALD.

It suits not to defile a day auspicious

With ill-announcing speech: distinct each god’s due:

And when a messenger with gloomy visage

To a city bears a fall’n host’s woes— God ward off! —

One popular wound that happens to the city,

640

And many sacrificed from many households —

Men, scourged by that two-thonged whip Ares loves so,

Double spear-headed curse, bloody yoke-couple, —

Of woes like these, doubtless, whoe’er comes weighted,

Him does it suit to sing the Erinues’ paian.

645

But who, of matters saved a glad-news-bringer,

Comes to a city in good estate rejoicing. ...

How shall I mix good things with evil, telling

Of storm against the Achaioi, urged by gods’ wrath?

For they swore league, being arch-foes before that,

650

Fire and the sea: and plighted troth approved they,

Destroying the unhappy Argeian army.

At night began the bad-wave-outbreak evils;

For, ships against each other Threkian breezes

Shattered: and these, butted at in a fury

655

By storm and typhoon, with surge rain-resounding, —

Off they went, vanished, thro’ a bad herd’s whirling.

And, when returned the brilliant light of Helios,

We view the Aigaian sea on flower with corpses

Of men Achaian and with naval ravage.

660

But us indeed, and ship, unhurt i’ the hull too,

Either someone outstole us or outprayed us —

Some god — no man it was the tiller touching.

And Fortune, saviour, willing on our ship sat.

So as it neither had in harbour wave-surge

665

Nor ran aground against a shore all rocky.

And then, the water-Haides having fled from

In the white day, not trusting to our fortune,

We chewed the cud in thoughts — this novel sorrow

O’ the army labouring and badly pounded.

670

And now — if anyone of them is breathing —

They talk of us as having perished: why not?

And we — that they the same fate have, imagine.

May it be for the best! Meneleos, then,

Foremost and specially to come, expect thou!

675

If (that is) any ray o’ the sun reports him

Living and seeing too—by Zeus’ contrivings,

Not yet disposed to quite destroy the lineage —

Some hope is he shall come again to household.

Having heard such things, know, thou truth art hearing!

680

CHORUS

Whosoever, in this matter, prays otherwise for this our city, may he himself reap the fruit of his soul’s trespass.

HERALD TALTHYBIUS

O! father-land of the soil 1

of Argos, in this the light of the tenth year am I arrived, mastering one only hope, with many broken down. For never dared I think that, dying, I should share a burial dearest to me in this Argive land. Now hail to thee, country mine, and hail to thee light of the sun, and to thee O Jove, supreme god of the realm, and to the Pythian king, that no longer with thy bow dost launch thy shafts against us. Enough unfavouring comest 2

thou by Scamander; but now in turn be thou our saviour, and freer from our contests 3

and I address both all the gods of battle and my patron Mercury, beloved herald, herald's glory, and the heroes that sent us forth, that they may kindly welcome back again the residue of the host that has escaped the spear. O halls of our kings, dear roofs! and awful judgment-seat, and ye divinities that face the sun, if ever in the olden times ye did with these your bright eyes receive with honourable greeting our sovereign after his long absence; for king Agamemnon is come, bringing a light in darkness common to you and to all these assembled. But greet him well, (and sooth 'tis fitting so) him that hath overturned Troy with the spade of avenging Jove with which the plain bath been tilled. Their altars are demolished and the shrines of their gods and the seed of all the land hath utterly perished. Having flung such a yoke over Troy, the elder royal son of Atreus, a happy man, hath arrived and most deserving to be honoured is he of the mortals of this day : for neither Paris nor his accomplice-city boasts that their deed was greater than their suffering 1

. For, cast in the penalty of abduction and theft, he both lost his gage 2

and mowed down to the very earth in utter destruction the house of his father : and the children of Priam have paid a double penalty.

CHORUS

HERALD TALTHYBIUS

I feel joy; and no longer do I refuse the gods to die.

CHORUS

Did love of this thy father-land train thee?

HERALD TALTHYBIUS

Aye, so that mine eyes swim with tears of joy.

CHORUS

Ye were then smitten with this pleasant malady.

HERALD TALTHYBIUS

How? learning [from thee] I shall master this speech 3

.

CHORUS

As being smitten with love for them who loved thee in turn.

HERALD TALTHYBIUS

Say'st thou that this country longed for the army which longed for it?

CHORUS

Yes, so that full oft I sighed from my saddened soul.

HERALD TALTHYBIUS

Whence came this desponding horror on the people 4

?

CHORUS

Long since have I considered silence as an antidote to mischief.

HERALD TALTHYBIUS

And how didst thou fear any 5

when the chiefs were absent?

CHORUS

Even as thou saidst just now, and to have died were matter of great thanks 1

.

HERALD TALTHYBIUS

Yea, for we have fared well. But this in a long time one might say that some things fall out well, but others on the contrary are open to complaint; for who, save the gods, is free from suffering throughout all time for evermore? For were I to tell our hardships, and our bad lodgments, our approaches [to the shore] infrequent and ill-bedded,—and in what part of the day were we not sighing, as not having met with our portion 2

?—And then again the ills on shore were added, more loathly still: for our beds were hard by the walls of our foes : and from the sky and from the soil the meadow-dews drizzled on us, a deep rankling destruction to our garments making our hair shaggy. And were any one to describe the winter, death to birds, how intolerable the snow of Ida made it, or the sultriness, when ocean, having sunk upon his noon-tide couch unruffled by a breeze, slumbered 3

without a ripple.—What need is there to grieve over this? the toil is past—past too with the dead is even the thought about ever hereafter rising. Why need one take exact account of those that fell, and why should the survivor feel sorrowed on account of adverse hap? I deem it good to bid a long farewell to misfortunes. With us, the remnant of the host of the Argives, the advantage preponderates, the suffering counterpoises not: wherefore it is fair for us, flying over sea and land, to make our boast to this light of the sun.

"The armament of the Greeks, having at length captured Troy, have fixed these spoils as a glory to the ancient shrine 4

of the gods throughout Greece."

Those that hear such tidings must glorify our city and our commanders; and the favour of Jove, which hath brought this to pass, shall be honoured. Thou hast my whole tale.

CHORUS

CLYTEMNESTRA

Long since, in truth, I raised the jocund shout through delight, when the first mighty messenger of fire arrived, telling of the capture and overthrow of Ilion.—And some one chiding me said, “Dost thou, persuaded by beacon-lights, think that Troy has now been sacked? Verily it is like a woman to be much elated in heart." By words like these I was made to seem in error 1

. Nevertheless I went on sacrificing; and, by a woman's edict, one and another, in different places throughout the city, raised aloud a shout of joy, pouring forth a hallowed song in the dwelling of the gods, while they lulled the fragrant incense-fed flame. And now what need is there for thee to say more to me? From the king himself I shall hear the whole tale. And I will haste to welcome back my revered lord on his return as well as I possibly can : for what day is more delightful for a woman to behold than this, to throw open the gates to a husband returning from warfare, when a god hath kept him safe? Bear thou this message to my husband, that he come with all speed, desired oy the city. And may he coming find a loyal consort in his house, just as he left her, a watch-dog of his home attached to him, a foe to the ill-disposed, and in -all other points alike, not having destroyed one single seal in the course of long time. I know not delight nor slanderous report from another man any more than brass does of dyeing 2

.

HERALD TALTHYBIUS

CHORUS

Thus hath she spoken, as beseems 2

a clear interpreter. to you that learn. But do thou tell me, Herald! I ask about Menelaus, whether he too returning and preserved will come back along with you, a chieftain beloved by this land 3

.

HERALD TALTHYBIUS

I cannot tell pleasant falsehoods, that my friends can enjoy for any length of time.

CHORUS

How then mightest thou, while telling good things, tell true 4

? But 'tis full plain that these two things are severed.

HERALD TALTHYBIUS

The man is vanished from the Grecian armament, himself and vessel: I tell no falsehood.

CHORUS

Was it when he was putting to sea from Ilion before your eyes, or did a tempest, a common bane, tear him away rom the host?

HERALD TALTHYBIUS

Thou hast hit the mark like a capital archer, and hast expressed in brief a long sorrow.

CHORUS

Was a rumour bruited by the rest of the mariners that he survived or had perished?

HERALD TALTHYBIUS

No one knows, so as to report clearly except the sun that nurtures earth's nature.

CHORUS

Why! How dost thou say that the tempest came upon the naval armament, and ended through the wrath of heaven 5

?

HERALD TALTHYBIUS

CHORUS

LE CORYPHÉE

Nous saurons bientôt si ces flambeaux éclatants, avec leurs signaux et leurs relais de feu, ont dit la vérité, ou si la lueur séduisante d'un songe est venue seule éblouir nos esprits. Je vois du rivage s'avancer un héraut, le front ombragé de rameaux d'olivier, et la sœur

LE CORYPHÉE

de la boue, sa jumelle altérée, la poussière, m'en est ici garante : ce n'est plus par un muet langage, la fumée ardente d'un feu de bois flambant sur une cime, qu'il te va signifier son message ; mais, en termes clairs, sa voix nous invitera, ou bien à donner encore plus libre cours à
notre allégresse, ou au contraire — ah ! l'idée me fait horreur !... Que des succès s'ajoutent aux succès qui nous luisent déjà ! Si quelqu'un fait ici d'autres vœux pour la ville, qu'il recueille le fruit du crime de son cœur !

LE HÉRAUT

Ah ! terre de mes pères, pays d'Argolide,
après dix ans, elle a donc lui, l'heure où je te revois ! Pour tant d'espoirs brisés, un seul a tenu bon. Je ne me flattais plus d'obtenir à ma mort le lot, qui me semblait si doux, d'une tombe en terre argienne. Salut donc, ô patrie ; salut, lumière du soleil, et toi, Zeus, qui d'en haut veilles
sur cette terre, et toi, seigneur de Pythô, archer dont les traits, j'espère, ne sont plus pour nous ; assez longtemps, près du Scamandre, tu fis notre détresse : aujourd'hui sois pour nous salut et guérison, ô sire Apollon ! Je vous invoque aussi, tous, dieux de la cité, et toi, divin patron,
Hermès, héraut, cher orgueil des hérauts ; et vous, ô demi-dieux, qui avez protégé le départ de l'armée, accueillez donc maintenant avec faveur ce qu'en a épargné la guerre ¹ .
Ah ! palais de mes rois, demeure chérie ; sièges augustes ² ; images ensoleillées de nos dieux ! plus encore qu'aux temps passés, gardez ce radieux visage pour recevoir comme il convient le roi longtemps absent ³ . Il vient faire briller le jour en pleine nuit, pour vous, pour tous ceux-ci,

LE HÉRAUT

le roi Agamemnon. Faites-lui donc tous fête : il le mérite bien, le destructeur de Troie, à qui Zeus a prêté son hoyau justicier pour retourner le sol, détruire les autels et les temples des dieux, anéantir la race entière du pays.
C'est ainsi qu'il a passé le joug sur le cou d'Ilion, le roi qui nous revient, aîné des fils d'Atrée, héros favorisé du sort, et de tous les vivants le plus digne d'un culte. Pâris et sa cité, avec lui condamnée, ne pourront dire

LE CORYPHÉE

Sois heureux, cher héraut de l'armée achéenne.

LE HÉRAUT

Je suis heureux ; aux dieux j'abandonne ma vie.

LE CORYPHÉE

Le regret du pays a travaillé ton âme ?

LE HÉRAUT

Crois-en les pleurs de joie qui remplissent mes yeux.

LE CORYPHÉE

Vous connaissez alors le doux mal de nos cœurs.

LE HÉRAUT

Que dis-tu ? instruis-moi, que je comprenne mieux.

LE CORYPHÉE

Vous brûliez du désir de qui vous désirait.

LE HÉRAUT

Cette terre pleurait ses fils qui la pleuraient ?

LE CORYPHÉE

Et de mon cœur en deuil jaillissaient les sanglots.

LE HÉRAUT

Quelle amère souffrance occupait donc vos âmes ?

LE CORYPHÉE

Depuis longtemps, me taire reste mon seul remède.

LE HÉRAUT

Voyant tes rois absents, tu redoutais quelqu'un ?

LE CORYPHÉE

Comme à toi, la mort même me serait
un bienfait.

LE HÉRAUT

C'est que mes vœux aujourd'hui sont comblés. Mais, on peut bien le dire, tout ce qui se prolonge, à côté d'heureuses chances, comporte aussi quelques disgrâces : les dieux seuls voient sans souffrance s'écouler
leur vie éternelle. Si je vous disais nos fatigues, la pénible façon dont nous étions parqués, les passavants étroits où nous couchions sur la dure ⁵ ! quelle heure du jour ne nous a pas vus gémir et nous plaindre ? — Et, sur terre, c'était pire ennui encore : nous campions sous les murs mêmes de
l'ennemi et, du ciel, de la terre, la rosée des prés sur nous faisait pleuvoir un constant dommage, emplissant de vermine le poil de nos manteaux. — Et si l'on vous disait l'hiver, tueur d'oiseaux, l'hiver intolérable que nous faisait
la neige de l'Ida ! ou bien la torpeur de l'été, quand la mer à midi, nulle brise ne soulevant ses flots, sur sa couche retombe et s'endort ! — Mais pourquoi s'en attrister encore ? La misère est passée — bien passée ; les morts ne songent
plus à se lever de terre : à quoi bon compter les disparus, pour faire souffrir les vivants au rappel d'un sort hostile ? Mon avis, en tel cas, est de dire au passé un adieu sans retour. — Pour nous, les survivants de l'armée argienne, le
profit l'emporte et compense la peine. Aussi nous pouvons nous rendre gloire, en présence de ce Soleil qui survole la terre et les mers : « Conquérante de Troie, une armée

LE HÉRAUT

d'Argos a cloué dans leurs temples ces dépouilles vouées aux dieux de la Grèce, antique et éclatant trophée. » Il
faut qu'à ouïr ce bruit on célèbre Argos et ses capitaines ; et, en même temps, on rendra hommage à la faveur de Zeus, par qui le succès fut complet. J'ai tout

LE CORYPHÉE

Je me rends à ton rapport, je l'avoue : on n'est jamais trop vieux pour aller à l'école de la vérité.
Mais c'est surtout cette maison, c'est Clytemnestre que touchent ces nouvelles : je n'ai droit qu'à une part du trésor qui lui appartient.

CLYTEMNESTRE

Il y a longtemps déjà que j'ai poussé un long cri d'allégresse, quand, le premier, arriva dans la nuit le messager de feu annonçant la conquête et la ruine
de Troie. Alors, pleins de reproches, certains me disaient : « Pour des signaux de feu, te voilà donc certaine que Troie est maintenant une ville détruite ? Il est bien d'une femme de s'exalter ainsi ! » De tels propos me faisaient apparaître folle. Et, malgré tout, j'ordonnais des sacrifices, et le cri
rituel des femmes, mes gens ⁶ , dispersés à travers la ville, le lançaient en accents joyeux, au fond des temples divins où ils cherchaient à endormir la dévorante ardeur des flammes parfumées. Quel besoin maintenant que tu m'en dises plus ? j'apprendrai tout du roi lui-même. Je ne veux plus songer
qu'à recevoir du mieux qu'il m'est possible l'époux respecté qui rentre en sa demeure. Quel soleil luit plus doux à une femme que la joie d'ouvrir les portes toutes grandes au mari que les dieux ont sauvé de la guerre. A mon époux
rapporte bien ceci : « Qu'il se hâte de répondre aux désirs de sa cité ! Qu'il vienne retrouver aussi dans sa maison, telle qu'il l'y laissa, une épouse fidèle, chienne de garde à lui

CLYTEMNESTRE

dévouée, farouche à ses ennemis, toujours la même en
tout et qui n'a point violé durant sa longue absence les dépôts confiés ⁷ . Le plaisir adultère, même un simple bruit médisant, sont choses que j'ignore tout autant que l'art de teindre le bronze ⁸ . »

LE CORYPHÉE

Tu l'as entendue, comprends-la bien : pour un clairvoyant interprète, c'est un langage spécieux ! Mais, dis-moi, héraut : Et Ménélas ? puis-je savoir s'il a trouvé avec vous le salut et le retour, lui, le roi cher à ce pays.

LE HÉRAUT

Je ne puis inventer de séduisants mensonges, dont le profit pour vous, amis, soit bien durable.

LE CORYPHÉE

Ah ! puisse joie pour nous être aussi vérité ! La joie qui n'est pas vraie vite est désabusée.

LE HÉRAUT

Le roi et son vaisseau ont tous deux
disparu de l'armée argienne : voilà la vérité.

LE CORYPHÉE

Était-il donc parti d'Ilion devant vous ? ou un même ouragan vous a-t-il séparés ?

LE HÉRAUT

Comme un habile archer tu as touché le
but et résumé d'un mot un immense désastre.

LE CORYPHÉE

Parmi vos compagnons dans la flotte des Grecs, le croyait-on vivant ou à jamais perdu ?

LE HÉRAUT

Personne n'en a plus de nouvelles certaines, si ce n'est le Soleil, nourricier de la terre.

LE CORYPHÉE

Dis-moi donc l'ouragan que le courroux des dieux déchaîna sur la flotte et quel en

LE HÉRAUT

Il ne convient guère de souiller un jour de joie par un langage de deuil : chaque divinité veut être honorée à son heure. Quand un messager, la tristesse au front, vient apporter à sa ville l'abominable douleur de savoir son armée détruite ; quand il lui apprend qu'une
plaie à tous commune s'est ouverte aux flancs du pays, en même temps qu'à des foyers sans nombre des guerriers sans nombre ont été arrachés et voués au trépas, tout cela par le double aiguillon ⁹ , trop cher à Arès, fléau divin à deux pointes, couple meurtrier — alors, sans doute, au
messager chargé de pareilles douleurs il convient d'entonner, comme tu le demandes, le péan des Érinyes. Mais, entrant, messager de salut, dans une ville toute à la joie du triomphe, dois-je mêler la tristesse au bonheur, en vous contant une tempête qui ne peut que nous révéler des dieux
irrités contre nous. Nous avons vu, en effet, deux ennemis jusqu'ici irréconciliables, la mer et le feu, se conjurer et montrer leur alliance en détruisant la pauvre armée des Argiens. C'est dans la nuit qu'en vagues cruelles le malheur se levait pour nous. Le vent de Thrace choquait nos
vaisseaux les uns contre les autres. Eux, se heurtant de front avec violence, sous le déchaînement de la tourmente, sous le fouet de grêle de l'ouragan, pâtre de malheur ¹⁰ , tournoyaient, puis disparaissaient, anéantis. Quand se leva la radieuse lumière du matin, la mer Égée foisonnait et de
cadavres de Grecs et de débris de vaisseaux. Pour nous, notre nef gardait sa carène intacte. Qui l'avait dérobée à la mort ? qui avait obtenu sa grâce ? Une divinité — pas un homme à coup sûr — qui avait pris en mains son gouvernail : la Fortune Libératrice s'était plu à s'asseoir au banc du pilote et, grâce à elle, nous ne sentîmes, ni au

LE HÉRAUT

mouillage ¹¹ , l'assaut furieux de la houle, ni, en marche, le heurt d'un écueil rocheux. Mais, échappés à la mort sur les eaux, nous hésitions encore, quand brilla le jour, à jouir de notre bonheur, car nos cœurs nourrissaient une
douleur nouvelle : notre armée si durement meurtrie ! A cette heure même, s'il en reste sur terre un survivant, sans doute parle-t-il de nous comme de morts, tandis qu'ici nous lui prêtons même destin. Qu'il en soit pour le mieux !
Et Ménélas, d'abord et surtout, attends-toi à le voir reparaître ici. Ou, du moins, si un rayon de soleil le sait quelque part bien vivant et les yeux ouverts à la lumière ¹² , par l'opération de Zeus, qui se refuse à anéantir la race d'Atrée, l'espoir nous reste qu'il rentre un jour en son
palais. Tu viens d'entendre, sache-le, l'entière vérité.

LE CHŒUR

CHORUS.

May he, that to this ſstate ſhall form a wiſh

Of other aim, on his own head receive it.

CLYTEMNESTRA, CHORUS, HERALD. HERALD.

Hail, thou paternal foil of Argive earth!

In the fair light of the tenth year to thee

570

Return’d, from the sad wreck of many hopes

This one I ſave;

ſav’d from deſpair e’en this;

For never thought I in this honour’d earth

To ſhare in death the portion of a tomb.

575

Hail then, lov’d earth; hail, thou bright ſun ; and thou,

Great guardian of my country, ſupreme Jove;

Thou, Pythian king, thy ſhafts no longer wing’d

For our deſtruction;

on Scamander’s banks

580

Enough we mourn’d thy wrath; propitious now

Come, king Apollo, our defence.

CLYTEMNESTRA.

HERALD.

For joy like this, death were a cheap exchange.

CLYTEMNESTRA.

Strong thy affection to thy native foil.

615

HERALD.

So ſtrong, the tear of joy ſtarts from my eye.

CLYTEMNESTRA.

What, hath this ſweet infection reach’d e’en you?

HERALD.

Beyond the pow’r of language have I felt it.

CLYTEMNESTRA.

The fond deſire of those, whoſe equal love-

HERALD.

This of the army ſay’ſt thou, whoſe warm love

620

Streams to this land? Is this thy fond deſire?

CLYTEMNESTRA.

Such that I oft’ have breath’d the fecret ſigh.

HERALD.

Whence did the army cauſe this anxious ſadneſs?

CLYTEMNESTRA.

Silence I long have held an healing balm.

HERALD.

The princes abſent, had’ſt thou whom to fear?

625

CLYTEMNESTRA.

To uſe thy words, death were a wiſh’d exchange.

HERALD.

Well is the conflict ended. In the tide

Of ſo long time, if 'midſt the eaſy flow

Of wiſh’d events ſome tyrannous blaſt aſſail us,

What marvel? Who, ſave the bleſt Gods, can claim

630

CHORUS.

CLYTEMNESTRA.

Long fince my voice rais’d high each note of joy,

When thro’ the night the ſtreaming blaze firſt came,

And told us Troy was taken:

675

Not unblam’d

That, as a woman lightly credulous,

I let a mountain fire tranſport my ſoul

With the fond hope that Ilion’s haughty tow’rs

Were humbled in the duſt.

680

At this rebuke

Tho’ ſomewhat ſhaken, yet I ſacrific’d;

And, as weak women wont, one voice of joy

Awoke another, till the city rang

Thro’ all its ſtreets; and at the hallow’d ſhrines

685

Each rais’d the pious ſtrains of gratitude,

And fan’d the altars’ incenſe-breathing flame.

But it is needleſs to detain thee longer,

Soon from the king’s own lips ſhall I learn all.

HERALD.

HERALD, CHORUS. CHORUS.

This, for thy information, hath ſhe ſpoken

With dignity and truth.

710

Now tell me, herald,

Of Sparta’s king wiſh I to queſtion thee,

The pride of Greece: returns he ſafe with you?

HERALD.

Never can I eſteem a falſehood honeſt,

Tho’ my friends long enjoy the ſweet deluſion.

715

CHORUS.

What then if thou relate an honest truth?

From this diſtinction the conjecture’s eaſy.

HERALD.

Him from the Grecian fleet our eyes have loſt,

The hero and his ſhip. This is the truth.

CHORUS.

Chanc’d this, when in your ſight he weigh’d from Troy;

720

Or in a storm, that rent him from the fleet?

HERALD.

Rightly is thy conjecture aim’d, in brief

Touching the long recital of our loſs.

CHORUS.

How deem’d the other mariners of this;

That the ſhip periſh’d, or rode out the ſtorm?

725

HERALD.

Who, ſave yon' ſun the regent of the earth,

Can give a clear and certain information?

CHORUS.

How ſaid’ſt thou then a storm, not without loſs,

Wing’d with Heav’n’s fury, toſt the ſhatter’d fleet,

HERALD.

CHORUS.

STROPHE 1.

ARALDO

Giunge correndo, si gitta bocconi al suolo, bacia la terra.

O patrio suolo dell'argiva terra,

in questa luce giungo a te dell' anno

ARALDO

decimo; e attingo questa speme sola

delle molte già frante! Io non credevo

565

piú di morire in questo argivo suolo,

né parte avere di sí dolce avello.

Ed ora, salve, o suolo, salve, o luce

del sole, e Giove, re di questa terra,

e tu, di Pito re, che piú dall'arco

570

le frecce contro noi non scagli!

Troppo

nemico presso allo Scamandro fosti:

salvaci, adesso, e pon fine ai travagli,

Apollo sire!

575

E voi tutti, dell'àgora

Numi, supplico; e te, diletto araldo,

degli araldi decoro, e a me patrono,

Ermete;

e voi che ci spingeste ad Ilio,

580

defunti eroi, benevoli accogliete

le schiere che campâr dalla battaglia !

O dei re nostri casa, o dolci tetti,

o seggi venerandi, o sculti dèmoni,

il re che giunge dopo il lungo indugio,

585

con onori accogliete, e con sí fulgido

viso, come or, che il sol v' accende.

Giunge,

luce recando nella notte a voi,

e ai cittadini tutti quanti, il sire

590

Agamènnone giunge.

Or salutate

bene è giustizia lui, che con la marra

che a vendetta gli diè Giove, scalzò

Ilio: scassato è ben tutto quel campo,

595

tutto disperso è della terra il seme.

Tal giogo imposto ad Ilio, a noi ritorna

il maggior degli Atridi, né fra gli uomini

d'ora, v'è alcun d'onor piú degno.

Paride

600

né la città che il fio pagò con lui,

millantar non potrà che il loro oltraggio

fu maggior della pena.

Il fio del ratto

e del furto pagò, perdé la preda,

605

la patria casa sterminò degli avi

all'ultima rovina.

I Priamidi

le loro colpe hanno pagato a doppio!

CORIFEO

ARALDO

Godo! Non chiedo ai Numi oltre piú vivere !

CORIFEO

Ti struggeva desio di questa patria?

ARALDO

Tanto, che per la gioia or verso lagrime!

CORIFEO

Tocchi eravate del mio dolce morbo ?

ARALDO

Di quale morbo? Spiegami, che intenda!

615

CORIFEO

Brama colpirci di chi noi pur brama!

ARALDO

Argo bramava il suo bramoso esercito ?

CORIFEO

E tanto lo piangeva il mio cupo animo!

ARALDO

Donde, nel cuore tuo, l'esoso cruccio ?

CORIFEO

Il silenzio, da tempo al mal m'è farmaco.

620

ARALDO

Nell' assenza dei re temevi alcuno?

CORIFEO

Come te dico! Ora, anche morte è dolce!

ARALDO

Sí, che tutto or ci arride. In lungo correre

di tempo, volgono or felici, ed ora

biasimevoli eventi. E chi nol sa?

625

Chi mai senza dolor, tranne i Celesti,

ARALDO

tutto il viver trascorre? Oh!, se i travagli

e le dure vigilie io ti dicessi,

e il disagio, e l'angustia dei giacigli

entro le navi, senza un'ora mai

630

di riposo, gementi. E in terra, poi,

era l'affanno anche maggiore. I letti

avevam presso le nemiche mura,

e le brine del cielo e le terrestri

c'irroravan sui prati, e facean guaste

635

le vesti, e madidi orridi i capelli,

come di fiere. E chi direbbe il freddo

che, da le nevi d' Ida, insopportabile

sterminava gli uccelli? O la calura

allor che, senza flutto, nei giacigli

640

meridiani, senza vento, il pelago

cadeva ed assonnava?

Ma che giova

di ciò lagnarsi? Ogni travaglio è lungi!

Ignoto al cuore dei defunti è il cruccio

645

di non risorger piú. Che giova il computo

far dei caduti? Della sorte avversa

perché si lagnerà chi vive? Io voglio

dare alle ambasce un lungo addio.

Per quanti

650

sopravvivemmo delle schiere argive,

ben prevale il guadagno; ed al confronto

non regge il danno.

Onde ora, in faccia al sole,

vanto meniamo a buon diritto noi,

655

la cui fama per mare e terra vola:

una schiera d'Argivi ha presa Troia:

questi trofei, d'antiche reggie fregi,

ARALDO

ai Numi della Grecia appesi ha in voto.

E quanti odono, onore ad Argo diano,

660

e ai condottieri; grazie offrano a Giove,

che ci diè la vittoria. Il tutto or sai.

CORIFEO

CLITENNESTRA

Un ululo di gioia alto levai,

subito, come a notte giunse il primo

670

messaggero di fiamma, ed annunziò

la presa, il sacco d'Ilio.

E alcuno, a biasimo,

diceva: « Credi presa Troia? Credi

a segnali di fuoco? E' ben da femmina

675

esaltarsi cosí ! »

Sí, che, ad udirlo,

mentecatta io sembrava.

E pure, tutti

sacrifici offeríano; e a mo' di femmine,

680

chi qua, chi là, per tutta Argo levando

alto clamore e augurî, entro i delúbri

sacri sopíano l'odorosa fiamma

voratrice d'incensi.

Ed or, che importa

685

un tuo lungo discorso? Presto udrò

tutto dal mio stesso signore.

Intanto

procaccerò che degnamente accolto

CLITENNESTRA

lo sposo sia, di reverenza degno.

690

Salvo, per opra degli Dei, dal campo

veder lo sposo entro le patrie mura:

per una sposa c'è più dolce giorno?

Al signor mio questo messaggio reca:

venga, come può prima, alla città

695

che lo brama: tornando alla sua casa,

ei troverà la fida sposa, quale

pur la lasciò: cane del tetto a guardia,

benigno a lui, nemico ai suoi nemici;

e costante in ogni altro atto, per lungo

700

volger di tempo, niun sigillo io fransi.

Immersa mi sarei prima in un bagno

d'ardente bronzo, che gustar piacere

d'un altr' uomo, ed averne scorno e biasimo.

CORIFEO

CORIFEO

all'araldo

A te che intendi, favellò costei

come ad acuto interprete s' addice.

Or dimmi, araldo: Menelao, diletto

signor di questa terra, è ritornato?

710

E' sano e salvo? Lo vedrem fra noi?

ARALDO

Non credo io, no, che di menzogne belle

colgan gli amici lungo tempo il frutto.

CORIFEO

Oh! Possa dir buone novelle, e vere;

ché divise dal ver, ben poco celansi!

715

ARALDO

Dall'esercito acheo sparve l'eroe:

egli e il suo legno: non ti dico il falso.

CORIFEO

Salpò solo da Troia? O insiem vi colse

la burrasca, e da voi lui separò ?

ARALDO

Hai, come arciero, colto a mezzo il segno:

720

in pochi motti un dolor grande hai chiuso.

CORIFEO

E qual fama di lui corse fra gli altri

navichieri? Che vivo o morto fosse ?

ARALDO

Niuno lo sa, che certo il dica, tranne

il sol, che nutre ogni terrestre forza.

725

CORIFEO

E per l'ira dei Numi piombò, dici,

la burrasca sui legni, e li distrusse ?

ARALDO

ARALDO

dal triste mandrïano in giro sperse,

fuggivano, sparivano. E poiché

del sole il raggio chiaro si levò,

di cadaveri achivi e franti legni

tutto vediamo il ponto egeo fiorire.

760

Noi con lo scafo della nave illesi

sottrasse un Nume ché mortal non era

al timone sedendo

od intercesse

per noi - Fortuna, a governarla, ascese

765

la nostra nave, sí che nell'ormeggio

non la colpisse la procella, né

la fracellasse allo scoglioso lido.

Cosí, sfuggiti al pelago di morte,

chiaro brillando il dí, senza piú fede

770

nella fortuna, pascevamo cruccio

novello in cuor: l'esercito distrutto,

miseramente in cenere converso.

Ora, se alcun di quelli anche respira,

crederà noi periti; e noi di loro

775

ugual credenza abbiamo.

Oh! per il meglio

tutto si compia! E Menelao che qui

giunga prima d'ogni altro spera dunque.

Che se raggio del sol lo scuopre, se

780

gli occhi ha dischiusi ancor, mercè di Giove,

che distrutta non vuol la stirpe sua,

speranza c'è che alla sua patria rieda.

Sappi, che, tanto udendo, udisti il vero.

Esce.

CORO

1

Chor.

Dort aber in Troia,

im Grabe der Fremde,

495

da walten verklärte Heroen:

der Boden bedeckt seine Sieger.

Mächtig ist des Volkes Stimme,

fordert für den Fall der Bürger

eine schwere Sühne heim.

500

Und die Angst

will nicht weichen,

460 nächtig Graus

harre mein zu hören.

Nicht vergißt

505

Gott des Völkermörders.

Schwarze Rachegeister

flattern, und die Stunde

kommt im Kampf des Lebens,

wo des unverdienten

510

465 Glückes Glanz erbleicht.

Niedrigkeit

lebt und stirbt vergessen,

und gefährlich ist

allzu stolzer Ruhm,

515

470 denn aus Gottes Auge fährt der Blitz.

Drum preis' ich ein harmlos

Geschick und verwünsche

den Ruhm des Städtezerstörers,

das Sklavenlos des Besiegten.

520

475 Durch die Gassen fliegt die Botschaft,

ob sie Wahrheit bringt, wer weiß es?

Blendwerk eines Dämons ist es.

Kindisch wär' es oder Wahnwitz,

wollten wir zu heißer Hoffnung

525

480 unser Herz entflammen lassen,

weil ein Feuer plötzlich aufging,

um in Bälde

der Enttäuschung Schmerz zu kosten.

Mag dem Weiberregimente

530

Chor.

Dankgebet vor der Erfüllung

485 ziemend sein. Wie der Wind

fliegt geschwinde

raschen Weiberglaubens Losung

rasch geglaubt von Mund zu Munde.

535

Doch geschwinde

ist des Weibermunds Gerede

Chorführer.

Bald werden wir erfahren, ob die Wahrheit uns

490 das Wanderfeuer und der Wächter Brandsignal

540

gesagt hat, oder ob erschienen wie ein Traum

das holde Licht auch wie ein Traum den Sinn berückt.

Vom Hafen kommt ein Herold, mit Olivenlaub

bekränzt, heran, und das verraten mir bereits

495 des Wandrers zwei Begleiter, Schmutz und trockner

545

Staub,

das ist kein stummer Bote, nicht mit Feuerqualm,

nicht Holz und Reisig zündend giebt er uns Bescheid.

Entweder ruft er deutlicher den Freudegruß

das Oder unterdrück' ich. Füge Gutes sich

550

500 zu dem, was Gutes schon erschien. Wer unserm Land

es anders wünscht, der ernte, was er säte, selbst.

Herold.

Mein Argos, endlich nach zehn Sommern bin ich doch

zu dir, dem Lande meiner Väter, heimgekehrt.

505 Manch' Hoffen ist gescheitert, dieses ist erfüllt.

555

Kaum hätt' ich's mich versehen, daß ich doch das

Grab

im Heimatboden bei den Meinen finden kann.

Nun seid gegrüßt mir, Erde, Sonnenlicht, gegrüßt,

Zeus, höchster Herr von Argos, du, Apollon, auch;

560

510 du schießest keine Pfeile mehr auf unser Heer;

verderblich warst du uns genug vor Ilios:

jetzt gieb den Wunden Heilung, Phoibos, gieb Gedeih'n.

Herold.

Und euch auch grüß' ich alle, die ihr rings den Markt

beschützend thront, vor allen Hermes, meinen Herrn,

565

515 den lieben Götterherold, unsern Schutzpatron.

Und ihr Vorfahren in der Erden, die ihr uns

hinausgesandt, Heroen, nehmt uns gnädig auf,

so viel dem Schwert entronnen heut ihr wiederseht.

Ihr hohen Hallen, meiner Kön'ge liebes Haus,

570

ehrwürd'ge Malstatt, ihr Altäre vor der Thür,

520 wie heiter blickt ihr! Ja, wenn je, verdient der Fürst

nach so viel Jahren diesen festlichen Empfang.

Denn euch und Argos' ganzem Volk erscheint der Herr

Agamemnon rettend, wie ein Licht in finstrer Nacht.

575

So grüßt ihn denn mit Ehrfurcht, wie sie der verdient,

525 dem Zeus der Rache Pflugschar in die Hand gelegt,

die über jene Stätte fuhr, da Troia stand,

527 und mit der Wurzel tilgte das gesamte Volk.

Heut zieht, der Troia unter solches Joch gebeugt,

580

530 der Held und König, Atreus' Erstgebor'ner, ein

im Glanz des Glückes: ihm gebühret Huldigung

Chorführer.

Herold des Heers von Hellas, Freude sei mit dir.

590

Herold.

Sie ist es. Willig stürb' ich, da ich dies erlebt.

Chorführer.

540 Erfahren hast du, wie des Heimwehs Schmerzen thun?

Herold.

Drum macht das Wiedersehen mir das Auge feucht.

Chorführer.

Wenn ihr die bittre Wollust solcher Tränen kennt -

Herold.

Was willst du, rede weiter, ich versteh' dich nicht.

595

Chorführer.

So wißt, die Schmerzen haben wir mit euch geteilt.

Herold.

545 Du meinst, euch nach dem Heer gesehnt wie wir nach Haus?

Chorführer.

Und haben oft in bittrem Harme tief geseufzt.

Herold.

Woher befiel zu Haus euch solche Not und Angst?

Chorführer.

Ich schweige; dieses letzte Mittel lernt' ich längst.

600

Herold.

Ihr littet Zwang, dieweil der König ferne war?

Chorführer.

550 Ich sag' wie du: willkommen ist mir auch der Tod.

Herold.

Ja, denn wir steh'n am Ziele. Freilich, jedes Ding,

das lange dauert, hat nicht gute Seiten bloß;

da ist auch manches Schlimme: Göttervorrecht ist's

605

in Ewigkeit zu leben ohne Leid und Schmerz.

555 Wollt' ich von unsern Plagen reden, welche Not

das Unterkommen machte - schmal und hart und eng

der Bordgang, Sitzplatz nirgend, alles vollgepfropft -

und dennoch, ärger war die Plage noch zu Land.

610

Dicht vor des Feindes Mauern war die Lagerstatt;

560 die Feuchtigkeit des Himmels und des Wiesengrunds

Herold.

575 Trägt nicht die heut'ge Sonne jedem Land und Meer

625

mit ihrem Lichte diese Siegesbotschaft zu:

„Das Heer von Argos, endlich Herr von Ilios

geworden, nagelt den Hellenengöttern heut

an ihre Tempel alter Herrlichkeit Trophä'n"?

580 Wer dies vernimmt, der beut Bewunderung dem Heer

630

und seinen Führern, Preis zumal dem höchsten Zeus,

der das hinausgeführet. Aus ist mein Bericht.

Chorführer.

Gern laß' ich mich von dir belehren, denn an Glück

glauben zu lernen wird der Mensch niemals zu alt.

585 Doch nächstes Anrecht hat des Königs Ehgemahl

635

Klytaimestra.

Den Jubelruf der Freude hab' ich längst zuvor

erhoben, als von Troias Fall und Untergang

die erste Flammenbotschaft in der Nacht erschien.

590 Und mancher schmähte „wie, du glaubst an Ilios'

640

Zerstörung auf ein Feuerzeichen hin? Wie leicht

ist doch ein Weiberherz entzündet". Nun, ich trug

den Schein des Leichtsinns, brachte trotz den Spötterei'n

Dankopfer, und so weiblich unbedacht erscholl

595 aus manchem Haus von Argos lauter Jubelruf

645

und Dankgebet vor den Altären, wo der Duft

der Spezerein in Wolken süßen Rauchs verglomm.

Klytaimestra.

Und jetzt - was brauch' ich weiter noch aus deinem Mund?

Erzählen wird mir alles bald der König selbst.

600 Ich eile nur dem Gatten, den mein Herz verehrt,

650

den prächtigsten Empfang zu rüsten. Welcher Tag

kann einer Frau willkomm'ner sein, als wenn dem Mann,

den Gott ihr aus dem Felde heil nach Hause führt,

das Thor sie öffnet? So bestelle meinem Herrn,

605 er eile sich. wie seines Volkes Lieb' ersehnt.

655

Und in dem Hause harre sein ein treues Weib,

wie er sie dort gelassen. Ihm anhänglich, feind

den arggesinnten war der Hund, den er dem Hof

zum Wächter setzte. Lange blieb er aus, doch keins

610 der Schlösser ist erbrochen. Und mein Ruf ist rein.

660

Nicht minder unverständlich als die Kunst das Erz

zu färben ist verbot'nen Umgangs Reiz für mich.

Ich wag's zu sagen. Wo es laut're Wahrheit ist,

ist Selbstlob nicht unwürdig einer edlen Frau.

Chorführer.

615 Die Fürstin hat gesprochen. Dein Verständnis wird

665

bekennen, klarer redet keines Dolmetsch Kunst.

Nun aber, Herold, steh' uns Rede. Kommt mit euch

auch Menelaos, unsres Landes teurer Fürst,

gesund und wohlbehalten aus dem Felde heim?

Herold.

620 Mit falscher Freude täusch' ich ungern einen Freund,

670

dieweil man ihrer nur auf kurze Frist genießt.

Chorführer.

So kannst du gut nicht reden und zugleich auch wahr?

Man hehlt es schwer, wenn beides nicht zusammenfällt.

Herold.

Menelaos ist verschwunden, er samt seinem Schiff

625 aus unsrer Flotte. Keine Lüge sag' ich dir.

675

Chorführer.

Mit Absicht einzeln aufgebrochen ist er kaum;

so überfiel die Flotte Sturm und riß ihn fort.

Herold.

Ins Schwarze trafst du, wie des guten Schützen Pfeil,

und sprachst mit leichtem Worte schweres Unheil aus.

Chorführer.

630 Wie denken denn die Schiffer über sein Geschick?

680

Enter Herald.

O land of Argos, fatherland of mine!

To thee at last, beneath the tenth year's sun,

My feet return; the bark of my emprise,

Tho' one by one hope's anchors broke away,

Held by the last, and now rides safely here.

600

Long, long my soul despaired to win, in death,

Its longed-for rest within our Argive land:

And now all hail, O earth, and hail to thee,

New-risen sun! and hail our country's God,

High-ruling Zeus, and thou, the Pythian lord,

605

Whose arrows smote us once—smite thou no more!

Was not thy wrath wreaked full upon our heads,

O king Apollo, by Scamander's side?

Turn thou, be turned, be saviour, healer, now!

And hail, all gods who rule the street and mart,

610

And Hermes hail! my patron and my pride,

Herald of heaven, and lord of heralds here!

And Heroes, ye who sped us on our way—

To one and all I cry Receive again

With grace such Argives as the spear has spared.

615

Ah home of royalty, belovèd halls,

And solemn shrines, and gods that front the morn!

Benign as erst, with sun-flushed aspect greet

The king returning after many days.

For as from night flash out the beams of day,

620

So out of darkness dawns a light, a king,

On you, on Argos—Agamemnon comes.

Then hail and greet him well! such meed befits

Him whose right hand hewed down the towers of Troy

With the great axe of Zeus who righteth wrong—

625

And smote the plain, smote down to nothingness

Each altar, every shrine; and far and wide

Dies from the whole land's face its offspring fair.

Such mighty yoke of fate he set on Troy—

Our lord and monarch, Atreus' elder son,

630

And comes at last with blissful honour home;

Highest of all who walk on earth to-day—

Not Paris nor the city's self that paid

Sin's price with him, can boast Whatever befal,

The guerdon we have won outweighs it all.

635

But at Fate's judgment-seat the robber stands

Condemned of rapine, and his prey is torn

Forth from his hands, and by his deed is reaped

A bloody harvest of his home and land

Gone down to death, and for his guilt and lust

640

His father's race pays double in the dust.