N. Wecklein Agamemnon 366.comm-366

CHOROS.

The stroke of Zeus — they have it, as men say!

This, at least, from the source track forth we may!

As he ordained, so has he done.

No — said someone —

The gods think fit to care

370

Nowise for mortals, such

As those by whom the good and fair

Of things denied their touch

Is trampled! but he was profane.

That they do care, has been made plain

375

To offspring of the over-bold,

Outbreathing Ares greater than is just —

Houses that spill with more than they can hold,

More than is best for man. Be man’s what must

Keep harm off, so that in himself he find

380

Sufficiency — the well-endowed of mind!

For there’s no bulwark in man’s wealth to him

Who, through a surfeit, kicks — into the dim

And disappearing — Right’s great altar.

Yes —

385

It urges him, the sad persuasiveness,

Até’s insufferable child that schemes

Treason beforehand: and all cure is vain.

It is not hidden: out it glares again,

A light dread-lamping-mischief, just as gleams

The badness of the bronze;

390

Through rubbing, puttings to the touch,

Black-clotted is he, judged at once.

He seeks — the boy — a flying bird to clutch,

The insufferable brand

Setting upon the city of his land

395

Whereof not any god hears prayer;

While him who brought about such evils there,

That unjust man, the god in grapple throws.

Such an one, Paris goes

Within the Atreidai’s house —

400

Shamed the guest’s board by robbery of the spouse.

And, leaving to her townsmen throngs a-spread

With shields, and spear-thrusts of sea-armament,

And bringing Ilion , in a dowry’s stead,

405

Destruction — swiftly through the gates she went,

Daring the undareable. But many a groan outbroke

From prophets of the House as thus they spoke.

Woe, woe the House, the House and Rulers, — woe

The marriage-bed and dints

410

A husband’s love imprints!

There she stands silent! meets no honour — no

Shame — sweetest still to see of things gone long ago!

And, through desire of one across the main,

A ghost will seem within the house to reign.

415

And hateful to the husband is the grace

Of well-shaped statues: from — in place of eyes

Those blanks — all Aphrodite dies.

But dream-appearing mournful fantasies —

420

There they stand, bringing grace that’s vain.

For vain ’t is, when brave things one seems to view;

The fantasy has floated off, hands through;

Gone, that appearance, — nowise left to creep, —

425

On wings, the servants in the paths of sleep!

Woes, then, in household and on hearth, are such

As these—and woes surpassing these by much.

But not these only: everywhere —

For those who from the land

Of Hellas issued in a band,

Sorrow, the heart must bear,

430

Sits in the home of each, conspicuous there.

Many a circumstance, at least,

Touches the very breast.

For those

Whom any sent away, — he knows:

And in the live man’s stead,

Armour and ashes reach

435

The house of each.

For Ares, gold-exchanger for the dead,

And balance-holder in the fight o’ the spear,

Due-weight from Ilion sends —

What moves the tear on tear —

440

A charred scrap to the friends:

Filling with well-packed ashes every urn,

For man — that was — the sole return.

And they groan — praising much, the while,

Now this man as experienced in the strife,

445

Now that, fallen nobly on a slaughtered pile,

Because of — not his own — another’s wife.

But things there be, one barks,

When no man harks:

A surreptitious grief that’s grudge

450

Against the Atreidai who first sought the judge.

But some there, round the rampart, have

In Ilian earth, each one his grave:

All fair-formed as at birth,

It hid them — what they have and hold — the hostile earth.

455

And big with anger goes the city’s word,

And pays a debt by public curse incurred.

And ever with me— as about to hear

A something night-involved — remains my fear:

460

Since of the many-slayers — not

Unwatching are the gods.

The black Erinues, at due periods —

Whoever gains the lot

Of fortune with no right —

Him, by life’s strain and stress

465

Back-again-beaten from success,

They strike blind: and among the out-of-sight

For who has got to be, avails no might.

The being praised outrageously

Is grave, for at the eyes of such an one

Is launched, from Zeus, the thunder-stone.

470

Therefore do I decide

For so much and no more prosperity

Than of his envy passes unespied.

Neither a city-sacker would I be,

Nor life, myself by others captive, see.

A swift report has gone our city through,

475

From fire, the good-news messenger: if true,

Who knows? Or is it not a god-sent lie?

Who is so childish and deprived of sense

That, having, at announcements of the flame

480

Thus novel, felt his own heart fired thereby,

He then shall at a change of evidence,

Be worsted just the same?

It is conspicuous in a woman’s nature,

Before its view to take a grace for granted:

Too trustful, — on her boundary, usurpature

485

Is swiftly made;

But swiftly, too, decayed,

The glory perishes by woman vaunted.

CORIFEO

1

Klytaimestra.

Die einen neben Leichen, hier des Gatten, dort

des Bruders, neben einem Greise hier ein Kind,

das jüngste Reis des Stammes, der von ihm entsproß,

und alle jammern um des Teuersten Verlust,

und jeder Mund, der jammert, ist ein Sklavenmund.

365

330 Die Sieger suchen Frühmahl, wie die Stadt es beut,

Der Chor.

Erste Strophe.