Electra
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Original / primary: Perseus Eng2
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Electra
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Once I had shed my mother’s blood, I might die!
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Orestes
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Ah! Would that Orestes were near by, to hear that!
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Electra
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But, stranger, I would not know him if I saw him.
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Orestes
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No wonder, for you were both young when you were parted.
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Electra
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There is only one of my friends who would recognize him.
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Orestes
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The man who is said to have stolen him away from murder?
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Electra
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Yes, the old man, my father’s old servant.
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Orestes
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Did the dead man, your father, find burial?
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Electra
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He found what he could, cast out of the house.
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Orestes
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Alas, the things you have said! For perception of suffering, even another’s, gnaws at mortals. Speak, so that when I know, I may tell your brother the story, unpleasant, but necessary to hear. Pity is not present at all in clownishness,
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but in wise men. And indeed it is not without mischief for the wise to have overly profound thoughts.
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Chorus Leader
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And I have the same desire in my heart as this man. Being far from the town, I do not know the city’s scandals, and now I want to learn them.
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Electra
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I will speak, if I must—and one must speak to a friend—about my own and my father’s heavy misfortunes. Since you are setting the tale in motion, I entreat you, stranger, tell Orestes of our sorrows, mine and his. First of all, in what clothes I live like a beast in a stall,
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with what filth I am weighted down, under what roof I dwell, having lived in a royal home; I myself working hard on my clothes at the loom, or else I shall go barely clad and do without; always carrying water from the springs myself,
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with no share in the festival rites, no part in the dance. I turn away from married women, as a virgin; and I turn away from Castor, who sought me in marriage before he joined the gods, for I was his relative. But my mother, in the spoils of Troy,
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is seated on her throne, and at her chair stand slaves from Asia, my father’s plunder, fastening their Trojan robes with golden brooches. And still my father’s blood has rotted black on the wall, while the one who killed him
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mounts the same chariot and goes forth; and is proud to hold in his blood-stained hands the scepter with which my father used to command the Hellenes. Agamemnon’s grave, dishonoured, has not yet ever received any libations, or branch of myrtle,
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but his altar is barren of ornament. That famous one, my mother’s husband, leaps on the grave, they say, when soaked in drink, and pelts my father’s marble monument with stones, and dares to say this to us:
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Where is your son Orestes? Is he here to defend the tomb for you nobly? Orestes is insulted in this way while absent. But, stranger, I beg you, report these things. There are many calling him to come—I am their interpreter—these hands, this tongue, my broken heart,
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my shorn head, and his own father. For it is shameful, if his father exterminated the Trojans but Orestes is unable to kill a man, one against one, being young and born from a more noble father.
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Chorus Leader
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And look, I see him, I mean your husband,
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on his way home, his day’s work done.
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Peasant
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Oh! who are these strangers I see at my door? Why have they come here to my rustic gate? Do they want something from me? For it is shameful for a woman to be standing with young men.
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Electra
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Dearest, do not be suspicious of me; you shall hear the truth; for these strangers have come to me as messengers of news from Orestes. But, strangers, pardon him for what he said.
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Peasant
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What do they say? The man is alive and sees the light of day?
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Electra
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He is, at least in their report, and I believe them.
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Peasant
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Surely then he remembers something of your father’s wrongs and your own?
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Electra
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These are things to hope for; a man in exile is powerless.
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Peasant
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What message from Orestes have they come to declare?
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Electra
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He sent them as spies of my wrongs.
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Peasant
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Then they see a part of it, and perhaps you are telling them the rest.
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Electra
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They know; they have all these things in abundance.
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Peasant
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Then shouldn’t you have opened the doors to them long before? Go into the house; for in return for your good tidings, you shall find as much hospitality as my house holds in store.
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Servants, take their baggage within the house. Do not contradict me, since you are friends coming from a friend; for, even if I am poor, I will not display manners that are ill-bred.
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Orestes
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By the gods! Is this the man who makes a fraud of your marriage,
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because he does not want to shame Orestes?
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Electra
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This is the one who is called my husband, unhappy as I am.
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Orestes
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Ah! There is no exact way to test a man’s worth; for human nature has confusion in it. For instance, I have seen before now the son of a noble father
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worth nothing, and good children from evil parents; famine in a rich man’s spirit, and a mighty soul in a poor man’s body. How then does one rightly distinguish and judge these things? By wealth? A sorry test to use.
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Or by those who have nothing? But poverty has a disease, it teaches a man to be wicked in his need. But shall I turn to warfare? Who, facing the enemy’s spear, could be a witness as to who is brave? It is best to leave these matters alone, at random.
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For this man, neither important in Argos, nor puffed up by the good reputation of his family, but one of the many, has been found to be the best. Do not be foolish, you who wander about full of empty notions, but judge those noble among men by their company
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and by their habits. For such men rule well both states and homes; while those bodies that are empty of mind are only ornaments in the market-place. For the strong arm does not await the battle any better than the weak;
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this depends on natural courage. But, since Agamemnon’s son, both present and not present, for whose sake we have come, is worthy of it, let us accept a lodging in this house. Calling to his servants. We must go within this house, slaves. May a man poor
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but eager be a better host for me than a rich man! And so I am content with the reception into this man’s house, though I would have wanted your brother, in good fortune, to lead me to his fortunate home. Perhaps he may come; the oracles of Loxias are
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sure, but human prophecy I dismiss. Exeunt Orestes and Pylades.
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Chorus Leader
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Now more than before, Electra, I feel the warmth of joy at my heart; for perhaps good fortune, advancing with difficulty, might come to a good resting-place.
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Electra
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O reckless man, why, knowing the poverty of your house,
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did you welcome these strangers, greater than you?
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Peasant
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What? If they are really as noble as they seem, won’t they be equally content among great and small?
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Electra
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Since you, one of the small, have now made this error, go to my father’s dear old servant,
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who tends his flocks, an outcast from the city, by the river Tanaus which cuts a boundary between Argive land and the land of Sparta; bid him come, since these men have arrived at my house, and provide something for the guests’ meal.
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He will be glad, and will offer prayers to the gods, when he hears that the child, whom he once saved, is alive. I cannot get anything from my mother or from my father’s house; for we would bring bitter news, if she, the hard-hearted, were to learn that Orestes is still alive.
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Peasant
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I will take this message to the old man, if you wish; but go inside the house at once and make things ready there. Surely a woman, if she wants to, can find many additions to a meal. Really there is still enough in the house
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to cram them with food for one day at least. It is in such cases, whenever I fail in my intentions, that I see how wealth has great power, to give to strangers, and to expend in curing the body when it falls sick; but money for our daily food
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comes to little; for every man when full, rich or poor, gets an equal amount. Exeunt Electra and Peasant.
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Chorus
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O famous ships, you that once with countless oars went to Troy, conducting dances with the Nereids,
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where the music-loving dolphin leapt and rolled at your dark-blue prows, bringing Achilles, the son of Thetis, light in the leap of his foot,
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with Agamemnon to the banks of Trojan Simois.
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Chorus
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The Nereids, leaving Euboea’s headlands, brought from Hephaestus’ anvil his shield-work of golden armor,
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up to Pelion and the glens at the foot of holy Ossa, the Nymphs’ watch-tower . . . where his father, the horseman, was training the son of Thetis as a light for Hellas,
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sea-born, swift-footed for the sons of Atreus.
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Chorus
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On the bloody hilt four-footed horses were prancing, while over their backs black dust rose up. But your adultery killed the lord of such mighty warriors,
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evil-minded daughter of Tyndareus! For this the gods of heaven will one day send you to death;
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truly the day will come when I shall see, under your red throat, blood gushing forth at the sword.
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Old man
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Where, where is my young queen and mistress, Agamemnon’s child, whom I once brought up? How steep is the approach to her house,
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for a wrinkled old man to ascend with this foot! Still, for these friends, I must drag along my back bent double and sinking knees. Oh, daughter—for I see you now before the house—I have come, bringing you from my own sheep
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this newborn nursling of the flock, having drawn it away from its mother, and garlands, and cheeses I have taken from the press, and this old treasure of Dionysus, furnished with fragrance, small, but sweet to pour a cup of it into a weaker drink.
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Let some one carry these gifts into the house for the guests. I have moistened my eyes with tears, and wish to wipe them off on this shred of my robe.
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Electra
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Why are your eyes wet, old man? Have my troubles stirred your memory, after an interval of time?
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Or are you groaning over the sad exile of Orestes, and over my father, whom you once held in your arms and brought up, in vain for you and for your friends?
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Old man
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In vain; but still I could not endure this: for I came to his grave, an addition to my journey,
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and falling on it I wept for its desolation; then I opened the wine-skin which I am bringing to the guests, and poured a libation, and set myrtle-sprigs round the tomb. On the alter itself I saw a black-fleeced ram as an offering, and there was blood, not long poured out,
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and severed locks of yellow hair. And I wondered, child, who ever dared come to the the tomb; for it was no Argive at least. But perhaps your brother has somehow come secretly and on his return has done honor to his father’s wretched grave.
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Go look to see if the color of the cut lock is the same as yours, putting it to your own hair; it is usual for those who have the same paternal blood to have a close bodily resemblance in most points.
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Electra
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Old man, your words are unworthy of a wise man,
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if you think my own brave brother would come to this land secretly for fear of Aegisthus. Then, how will a lock of hair correspond, the one made to grow in the wrestling schools of a well-bred man, the other, a woman’s lock, by combing? No, it is impossible.
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But you could find in many people hair very similar, although they are not of the same blood, old man.
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Old man
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Then stand in the footprint and see if the tread of the boot will measure with your own foot, child.
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Electra
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How could there be an imprint of feet on a stony plot of ground?
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And if there is, the foot of brother and sister would not be the same in size, for the male conquers.
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Old man
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There is not, even if your brother, coming to this land . . . by which you might know your loom’s weaving,
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in which I once stole him away from death?
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Electra
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Don’t you know that I was still young when Orestes was driven out of the land? And even if I had woven him a robe, how could he, a child then, have the same one now, unless his clothes grew together with his body?
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But either a stranger, taking pity on his grave. . .
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Old man
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Where are the guests? I want to see them and question them about your brother.
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Electra
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There they are, coming quickly out of the house.
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Old man
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They are well-born, but that may ring false; for many of the well-born are base. However; I give the guests welcome.
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Orestes
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Welcome, old man! To which of your friends, Electra, does this ancient remnant of a man belong?
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Electra
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This is the one who brought up my father, stranger.
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Orestes
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What are you saying? Is this the one who stole away your brother?
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Electra
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This is the one who saved him, if indeed he is still alive.
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Orestes
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Oh! Why does he look at me, as if he were examining the clear mark impressed on a silver coin? Is he comparing me to someone?
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Electra
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Perhaps he is glad to see in you a companion of Orestes.
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Orestes
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A beloved man, yes. But why is he circling all around me?
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Electra
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I too am amazed, looking at this, stranger.
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Old man
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O mistress, daughter Electra, pray to the gods.
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Electra
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For what thing, present or absent?
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Old man
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To have a beloved treasure, which the god is revealing.
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Electra
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See: I call on the gods. Or whatever do you mean, old man?
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Old man
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Look now at this man, my child, your dearest one.