EPISODE I
Electra puts to the Chorus the same difficulty they have been feeling:
What shall I say as these funereal gifts
I pour? How shall I speak acceptably?
How to my father pray? What? shall I say
"I bring from loving wife to husband loved
Gifts"—from my mother? No, I am not bold
Enough for that, nor know I what to speak,
Pouring this chrism on my father's tomb:
Or shall I say this prayer, as men are wont,
"Good recompense make thou to those who bring
These garlands," yea, a gift full well deserved
By deeds of ill? Or, dumb with ignominy
Like that with which he perished, shall I pour
Libations on the earth, and like a man
That flings away the lustral filth, shall I
Throw down the urn and walk with eyes not turned? {97}
The Chorus-Leader breaking ranks to lay her hand on the Sepulchre as sign of fidelity, advises to throw off all disguise and pray boldly for friend and against foe. Electra in this sense offers the Prayer: setting forth the wrongs of the house and praying for Orestes and Vengeance: then calling on the Chorus for a Sepulchral Song she descends to the tomb. {144}
Sepulchral Paean of short Strophe and Antistrophe: for these libations' sake may the curse be averted—yet who strong enough to come as Averter: while Electra is pouring the libations on the tomb. {157}
Electra returns to Stage, her whole manner changed: as if the prayer had already begun to be fulfilled, she has found the mysterious locks which, she bit by bit lets out, must be those of Orestes—the Chorus, like sailors in a storm, can only invoke the gods: if the day has come, from a small seed a mighty trunk may grow—Electra then discovers foot-prints [as if leading from the Side Stage-door to the Orchestra-staircase] of two travellers; one foot-print agrees with her brother's: {203}
Orestes and Pylades come forward: recognition and joy, Electra hardly believing. She addresses him by four-fold name: as father dear,
The love I owe my mother turns to thee,
My sister's too that ruthlessly was slain,
And thou wast ever faithful brother found.
Orestes compares his family to an eagle's brood orphaned by the spoiler. Electra catching at the omen of eagle, dear bird of Zeus who will avenge his own—Chorus are afraid that their noisy joy may be overheard and ruin all—Orestes has no fear of ruin after the strong oracles of Apollo that bade him come under terrible penalties if he disobeyed: {261}
Leprous sores that creep
All o'er the flesh, and as with cruel jaws
Eat out its ancient nature, and white hairs
On that foul ill to supervene: and still
He spake of other onsets of the Erinnyes,
As brought to issue from a father's blood;
For the dark weapon of the Gods below
Winged by our kindred that lie low in death,
And beg for vengeance, yea, and madness too,
And vague, dim fears at night disturb and haunt me,
Seeing full clearly, though I move my brow
In the thick darkness . . . . and that then my frame
Thus tortured should be driven from the city
With brass-knobbed scourge: and that for such as I
It was not given to share the wine-cup's taste,
Nor votive stream in pure libation poured;
And that my father's wrath invisible
Would drive me from all altars, and that none
Should take me in or lodge with me: at last,
That loathed of all and friendless I should die,
A wretched mummy, all my strength consumed.
Must I not trust such oracles as these? {297}
The Chorus, breaking into lyrics, feel that Justice has at last taken their side: then follows an elaborate
KOMMOS, OR LYRIC CONCERTO
by Orestes, Electra and Chorus, in highly intricate and interwoven Strophes and Antistrophes, with funereal gesture. The jaws of flame do not reduce the corpse to senselessness; they can hear below this our Rite and will send answer—what a fate was Agamemnon's, not that of the warrior who dies leaving high fame at home and laying strong and sure his children's paths in life, but to be struck down by his own kin! But there is a sense of Vengeance being at hand, Erinnys and the Curses of the slain; they make the heart quiver: the Dirge crescendoes till it breaks into the 'Arian rhythm,' a foreign funeral rhythm with violent gestures (proper to the Chorus as Asiatics); and so as a climax breaks up into two semi-choruses: one sings of woe, the other of vengeance, and then the formal Dirge terminates and the Blank Verse recommences. {469}
In a composed frame (and in Blank Verse) Orestes and Electra repeat the distinct prayer for Vengeance and the death of Aegisthus and then address themselves to the means. Orestes enquires as to the meaning of the Sepulchral rites, and the dream is narrated, which he interprets as good omen.
Orest. And have ye learnt the dream, to tell it right? {517}
Chor. As she doth say, she thought she bare a snake.
Orest. How ends the tale, and what its outcome then?
Chor. She nursed it, like a child, in swaddling clothes.
Orest. What food did the young monster crave for then?
Chor. She in her dream her bosom gave to it.
Orest. How 'scaped her breast by that dread beast unhurt?
Chor. Nay, with the milk it sucked out clots of blood.
Orest. Ah, not in vain comes this dream from her lord.
Chor. She, roused from sleep, cries out all terrified,
And many torches that were quenched in gloom
Blazed for our Mistress' sake within the house.
Then these libations for the dead she sends,
Hoping they'll prove good medicine of ills.
Orest. Now to earth here, and my sire's tomb I pray,
They leave not this strange vision unfulfilled.
So I expound it that it all coheres;
For if, the self-same spot that I left leaving,
The snake was then wrapt in my swaddling clothes,
And sucked the very breast that nourished me,
And mixed the sweet milk with a clot of blood,
And she in terror wailed the strange event,
So must she, as that monster dread she nourished,
Die cruel death: and I, thus serpentised,
Am here to slay her, as this dream portends;
I take thee as my dream-interpreter.
They rapidly arrange their plan to appear as foreigners, and get admission to the Palace, or, if Aegisthus come out, strike him down at once—with a prayer to Apollo exeunt Electra, Orestes, and Pylades by the Distance Sidedoor. {575}
CHORAL INTERLUDE I
in four Strophes and Antistrophes.
Monsters and woes are many, but most terrible of all is a passion-driven woman: Thestias, who burnt out the mystic brand that measured her son's life; Scylla, who robbed her father of his life-charm; another—but the woman who slew her warrior-chief it is meet for me to pass over in silence. Then there is the great Lemnian Crime, foremost of all crimes; yet this might well be compared to it; and as that race perished, so is judgment at hand here; the anvil-block of Vengeance firm is set, and Fate is swordsmith hammering; in due time the debt of guilt is paid. {639}
EPISODE II
Enter by the Distance Side-door Orestes, Pylades, and attendants, and advance to the Central Door.
Orestes calls loudly for admission, telling the slave who opens that he is a traveller, and must do his message to those within ere night falls; to a lady if a lady rules, though a lord is seemlier. Enter Clytaemnestra, who gives a formal offer of hospitality (having noticed his irreverent tone), and to whom he bluffly gives a message from a fellow traveller, who learning he was bound for Argos, begged him to seek out Orestes' kinsmen and give the news of his death. Clytaemnestra affects a burst of grief; the curse has taken another victim as he was disentangling himself from the net. Orestes regrets he cannot hope for the welcome of those who bear good news. Clytaemnestra (with a dim feeling of suspicion) assures him he shall want for nothing 'that is fitting', orders Orestes to be led one way, and the rest another, and goes to call Aegisthus 'and friends.' Exeunt Clytaemnestra by Left Inferior Door to the Women's Quarters, Orestes and Porter through Central and Pylades, etc., through Right Inferior Door. Chorus, in marching rhythm, catch the touch of suspense, and invoke Hermes and the Spirit of Persuasion for Orestes. {720}
Enter from Women's Quarters, Cilissa, Orestes' Nurse, bidden to seek Aegisthus, as the stranger looks like one meaning to cook some ill. She is in tears at the death of her boy, and details all the petty cares she had over his helpless infancy, and how they are now all profitless.
Chor. And how equipped then doth she bid him come? {753}
Nurse How? Speak again that I may better learn.
Chor. By spearmen followed, or himself alone?
Nurse She bids him bring his guards with lances armed.
Chor. Nay, say not that to him thy lord doth hate,
But bid him 'come alone,' (that so he hear
Without alarm), 'full speed, with joyous mind,'
Since 'secret speech with messenger goes best.'
Nurse And art thou of good cheer at this my tale?
Chor. But what if Zeus will turn the tide of ill?
Nurse How so? Orestes, our One hope is gone.
Chor. Not yet; a sorry seer might know thus much.
Nurse What say'st thou? Know'st thou aught besides my tale?
Chor. Go tell thy message; do thine errand well:
The Gods for what they care for, care enough.
Nurse I then will go, complying with thy words:
May all, by God's gift, end most happily! {769}
Exit Nurse by Right Side-Door, signifying neighborhood.
CHORAL INTERLUDE II
in four interwoven Strophes and Antistrophes, with Mesode,
invokes the Gods the house had worshipped. Zeus, father of the Gods, the twin-brothers, Apollo in his glorious shrine at Delphi, Hermes who is the conductor of enterprises: the dear son of the house is harnessed to the car of calamity, moderate its pace—and may Murder cease to breed new Murder. But the Avenger, like Perseus, must not look on the deed as he does it; as she calls the name Mother let him hurl back the cry of Father. {820}
EPISODE III
Aegisthus entering from the Right Side-Door (of Neighborhood) speaks of this summons; it may after all be women's fears 'that leap up high and die away to nought.' The Chorus say there is nothing like asking. Aeg. will do so: they cannot cheat a man with his eyes open. Exit through Central Door. {839}
Chorus, in short lyric burst, mark critical moment that decides success or failure. {853}
Then cries from within, and Porter rushes from Central Door to Door of Women's Quarters (Left Inferior), loudly summoning Clytaemnestra, and when she appears informs her 'the dead are slaying the living.' She sees in a moment the truth, and is looking hurriedly for aid, when enter, from Central Door, Orestes, joined at once by Pylades and Attendants, from Right Inferior.
Orest. 'Tis thee I seek: he there has had enough. {878}
Clytaem. Ah me! my loved Aegisthus! Art thou dead?
Orest. Lov'st the man? Then in the self-same tomb
Shalt thou now lie, nor in his death desert him.
Clytaem. [baring her bosom]
Hold, boy! Respect this breast of mine, my son,
Whence thou full oft, asleep, with toothless gums,
Hast sucked the milk that sweetly fed thy life.
Orest. What shall I do, my Pylades? Shall I
Through this respect forbear to slay my mother?
Pyl. Where, then, are Loxias' other oracles,
The Pythian counsels, and the fast-sworn vows?
Have all men hostile rather than the gods.
Orest. My judgment goes with thine; thou speakest well.
[To Clytaemnestra.] Follow: I mean
to slay thee where he lies,
For while he lived thou held'st him far above
My father. Sleep thou with him in thy death,
Since thou lov'st him, and whom thou should'st love hatest.
Clytaem. I reared thee, and would fain grow old with thee.
Orest. What! Thou live with me, who did'st slay my father?
Clytaem. Fate, O my son, must share the blame of that.
Orest. This fatal doom, then, it is Fate that sends.
Clytaem. Dost thou not fear a parent's curse, my son?
Orest. Thou, though my mother, did'st to ill chance cast me.
Clytaem. No outcast thou so sent to house allied.
Orest. I was sold doubly, though of free sire born.
Clytaem. Where is the price, then, that I got for thee?
Orest. I shrink for shame from pressing that charge home.
Clytaem. Nay, tell thy father's wantonness as well.
Orest. Blame not the man that toils when thou'rt at ease.
Clytaem. 'Tis hard, my son, for wives to miss their husband.
Orest. The husband's toil keeps her that sits at home.
Clytaem. Thou seem'st, my son, about to slay thy mother.
Orest. It is not I that slay thee, but thyself.
Clytaem. Take heed, beware a mother's vengeful hounds.
Orest. How, slighting this, shall I escape my father's?
Clytaem. I seem in life to wail as to a tomb.
Orest. My father's fate ordains this doom for thee.
Clytaem. Ah me! The snake is here I bare and nursed.
Orest. An o'er-true prophet was that dread dream-born.
Thou slewest one thou never should'st have slain,
Now suffer fate should never have been thine. {916}
Exeunt Orestes and Pylades, forcing Clytaemnestra through the Central Door, their attendants remaining to guard the door. Chorus, after a word of pity for even this 'twain mischance,' break into
CHORAL INTERLUDE III
in three interwoven Strophes and Antistrophes.
Late came vengeance on Troy, late now has it blest this heaven-sent exile, and our Master's house is freed. On a lover of the war of guile has Revenge come subtle-souled, Vengeance who
Is guileful without guile,
Halting of foot and tarrying over-long;
The will of Gods is strangely over-ruled,
It may not help the vile.
At last we see the light. All-working Time with cleansing rites will purify the house; Fortune's throws shall fall with gladsome cast: at last we see the light. {959}