CHOROS.

Wherefore to me, this fear —

975

Groundedly stationed here

Fronting my heart, the portent-watcher — flits she?

Wherefore should prophet-play

The uncalled and unpaid lay,

Nor — having spat forth fear, like bad dreams — sits she

980

On the mind’s throne beloved — well-suasive Boldness?

For time, since, by a throw of all the hands,

The boat’s stern-cables touched the sands,

Has past from youth to oldness, —

When under Ilion rushed the ship-borne bands.

985

And from my eyes I learn —

Being myself my witness — their return.

Yet, all the same, without a lyre, my soul,

990

Itself its teacher too, chants from within

Erinus’ dirge, not having now the whole

Of Hope’s dear boldness: nor my inwards sin —

The heart that’s rolled in whirls against the mind

Justly presageful of a fate behind.

995

But I pray — things false, from my hope, may fall

Into the fate that’s not-fulfilled-at-all!

Especially at least, of health that’s great

The term’s insatiable: for, its weight

— A neighbour, with a common wall between —

Ever will sickness lean;

And destiny, her course pursuing straight,

1005

Has struck man’s ship against a reef unseen.

Now, when a portion, rather than the treasure,

Fear casts from sling, with peril in right measure,

It has not sunk — the universal freight,

(With misery freighted over-full)

1010

Nor has fear whelmed the hull.

Then too the gift of Zeus,

Two-handedly profuse,

Even from the furrows’ yield for yearly use

Has done away with famine, the disease;

1015

But blood of man to earth once falling-deadly, black —

In times ere these, —

Who may, by singing spells, call back?

Zeus had not else stopped one who rightly knew

1020

The way to bring the dead again.

But, did not an appointed Fate constrain

The Fate from gods, to bear no more than due,

My heart, outstripping what tongue utters,

Would have all out: which now, in darkness, mutters

1025

Moodily grieved, nor ever hopes to find

How she a word in season may unwind

From out the enkindling mind.

CLYTEMNESTRA

There is a sea—and who shall drain it ?—that breeds the drops of abundant purple, worth its weight in silver, constantly renewed, the dye of vestments. To thy house, O king, belongs good store of these by the gods' gifts, and thy dwelling knows not a want [of them]. I would have vowed the trampling of many vestments, had it been enjoined me in the prophetic shrines when I was planning ransoms for this life of thine. For while the root exists, foliage springs in the house extending over them a shade against the dog Sirius; and when thou comest to the hearth of thy home, thou showest to us a warmth that comes in winter. But when Jupiter is making wine from the sour grapes, there is coolness even then in the house, when the master of a family revisits his own abode. O Jove, Jove, that crownest all, bring my prayers to pass, and be it thy concern whatsoever thou art about to bring to pass.

CHORUS

AGAMEMNON

Eh bien ! puisqu'ainsi tu le veux, qu'on
me délie promptement ces sandales, servantes du pied qui les chausse, et qu'au moment où je mettrai le pied sur ces tissus de pourpre, un regard envieux, de loin, ne tombe pas sur moi ! C'est une grande honte que de ruiner sa maison en gâchant sous ses pas un tel luxe d'étoffes
achetées à prix d'or... Mais assez là-dessus. Tu vois cette étrangère : accueille-la avec bonté. Pour qui commande avec douceur, les dieux ont, de loin, des regards complaisants. Nul ne porte aisément le joug de l'esclavage, et c'est
un joyau de choix entre maints trésors — un don de mon armée qui m'a suivi, moi. — Allons ! puisque je me suis laissé vaincre à tes paroles, je rentrerai donc au fond de mon palais en marchant sur la pourpre.

CLYTEMNESTRE

Il y a la mer — et qui l'épuisera ? —
la mer qui nourrit et toujours renouvelle la sève précieuse d'une pourpre infinie pour teindre nos étoffes. Grâces aux dieux, la maison, seigneur, est en état d'avoir de tout cela ; notre demeure ne connaît pas la pauvreté. J'eusse offert dans mes vœux bien d'autres étoffes à fouler aux pieds, si, dans les temples fatidiques, l'avis m'en eût été donné,
quand je m'évertuais à chercher comment racheter une vie si chère. Tant qu'il y a racine, le feuillage toujours revient sur la maison étendre son ombre protectrice de la canicule : de même, ton retour au foyer domestique, pour nous, c'est vraiment, en hiver, un retour de l'été ; et, dans les jours

CLYTEMNESTRA.

Does not the ſea, and who ſhall drain it, yield

Unfailing ſtores of these rich tints, that glow

With purple radiance?

Theſe this lordly house

1090

Commands, bleſt with abundance, but to want

A ſtranger.

I had vow’d his foot ſhou’d tread

On many a veſtment, when the victims bled,

The hallow'd pledge which this fond breaſt devis'd

1095

For his return.

CHORUS.

STROPHE 1.

CLITENNESTRA

Evvi il mare, e chi mai l' essiccherà,

che di porpora molta il succo nutre,

CLITENNESTRA

come l'argento prezioso, e sempre

si rinnovella. Ha la tua casa, o re,

dovizie assai, mercè dei Numi: ignora

1120

la tua casa penuria.

Oh!, molti drappi

avrei promesso calpestar, se tanto,

a riscattare la tua vita, imposto

m'avesse, quando il modo io ne cercavo,

1125

nei delubri fatidici l'oracolo.

Ché, quando viva è la radice, stendesi

sulla casa il fogliame, e contro Sirio

canicolare l'ombra oppone.

E tu,

1130

giunto al tuo focolar, sembri tepore

nel gelo dell' inverno;

e quando Giove

nell'uve acerbe il vin matura, già

alita per la casa una frescura,

1135

se il signor vi s'aggira.

Agamennone è entrato.

Oh Giove, Giove,

che i voti compî, esaudisci il mio:

a cuor ti stia quel che tu sei per compiere !

Entra nella reggia.

CORIFEO

1

Klytaimestra.

910 rasch schlagt von Purpur eine Brücke nach dem Thor.

So halt' er seinen Einzug: die Gerechtigkeit

führt so ihn über alles Hoffen bei uns ein.

Das weit're wird mein Eifer, den kein Schlaf bezwingt,

mit Gottes Hilfe fügen, wie es ihm gebührt.

960

Agamemnon.

Tochter der Leda, meines Hauses Hüterin,

915 zu meinem Fernsein stimmte deine Rede wohl:

so lang war sie gesponnen. Doch geziemend Lob

ist Ehre, die aus fremdem Munde kommen muß.

Vor allem aber locke meine Seele nicht

965

zu Weibereitelkeiten. Ich bin kein Barbar,

920 vor dem ein plumpes Schmeicheln in den Staub sich

wirft.

Und mache meinen Einzug nicht durch Purpurschmuck

zu frevler Überhebung. Solche bunte Pracht

970

bringt man allein den Göttern dar.

Ein Sterblicher

924 sie zu beschreiten fürcht' ich mich.

927 Berufen ist's

975

Clytemnestra.

A Sea there is—and who shall stay its springs?

1110

And deep within its breast, a mighty store,

Precious as silver, of the purple dye,

Whereby the dipped robe doth its tint renew.

Enough of such, O king, within thy halls

There lies, a store that cannot fail; but I—

1115

I would have gladly vowed unto the gods

Cost of a thousand garments trodden thus,

(Had once the oracle such gift required)

Contriving ransom for thy life preserved.

For while the stock is firm the foliage climbs,

1120

Spreading a shade, what time the dog-star glows;

And thou, returning to thine hearth and home,

Art as a genial warmth in winter hours,

Or as a coolness, when the lord of heaven

Mellows the juice within the bitter grape.

1125

Such boons and more doth bring into a home

The present footstep of its proper lord.

Zeus, Zeus, Fulfilment's lord! my vows fulfil,

And whatsoe'er it be, work forth thy will!

[ Exeunt all but Cassandra and the Chorus.

Chorus.

Klytämnestra.

Ein weites Meer ist, (wer erschöpft des Meeres Raum?)

Das reichen Purpurs goldnen ewigneuen Schay,

Der Prachtgewande Farbenschmuck, im Schooße nährt.

Und dessen hat, o König, durch der Götter Huld

Dein Haus die Fülle; darben hat es nicht gelernt.

920

Zahlreiche Purpurdecken hätt' ich gern gelobt,

Vermocht' ich meines Gatten Haupt um solchen Preis

Zu retten, wenn's ein Seherausspruch mir gebot.

Denn lebt die Wurzel, rankt Gebüsch am Haus empor,

Weithin die Schatten breitend vor der Sonne Glut.

925

Und du, zum heimatlichen Herd zurückgekehrt,

Verkündest Frühlingswärme mir im Winterfrost;

Und wann aus herb unreifer Traube Zeus den Wein

Bereitet, weht ein kühler Morgenduft im Haus,

Da kühnvolendend heimgekehrt des Hauses Herr.

930

Zeus, Zeus, Vollender, mein Gebet vollende du,

Und was du willst vollenden, sei dir heimgestellt!

(Ab in den Palast mit Agamemnon.)

Chor

Wechſelgesang des Chores. Erste Strophe.