Electra
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Original / primary: Perseus Eng2
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Clytaemnestra
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You, go about your business! But you, sir, tell me exactly in what manner he was destroyed.
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Paedagogus
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I was sent for that purpose, and will tell you all. Having gone to the shrine which is Greece’s common glory in order to compete for Delphi’s prizes and having heard the herald’s loud summons to the foot-race, the first contest,
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he entered the lists, a brilliant form, a wonder in the eyes of all there. When he had finished the race at the point where it began, he went out with the glorious honor of victory. To say the most with the least words, I do not know the man whose deeds and triumphs have matched his.
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But this one thing you must know: in all the contests that the judges announced, he carried away the prize, and men deemed him happy as often as the herald proclaimed him an Argive, by name Orestes, son of
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Agamemnon, who once marshalled Greece’s famous expedition.So far Orestes fared as I described. But when a god sends harm, not even the strong man can escape. For on another day, when with the rising sun there was held the race of the swift-footed horses,
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he entered it along with many charioteers. One was an Achaean, one from Sparta; two masters of yoked cars were Libyans; Orestes, driving Thessalian mares, came fifth among them; the sixth was from Aetolia,
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with chestnut colts; a Magnesian was the seventh; the eighth, with white horses, was of Aenian stock; the ninth hailed from Athens, built of gods; there was a Boeotian too, making the tenth chariot. They took their stations where the appointed umpires
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placed them by lot and ranged the cars. Then at the sound of the bronze trumpet, they started. All shouted to their horses, and shook the reins in their hands; the whole course was filled with the clatter of rattling chariots; and the dust flew upward.
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All of them in a confused throng kept plying their goads unsparingly, so that one of them might pass the wheel-hubs and the snorting steeds of his rivals; for both at their backs and at their rolling wheels the breath of the horses foamed and smattered.
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Orestes, driving close to the near edge of the turning-post, almost grazed it with his wheel each time and, giving rein to the trace-horse on the right, he checked the horse on the inner side. To this point, all the chariots still stood upright. But then the Aenian’s
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hard-mouthed colts carried him out of control as they passed out of the turn from the sixth into the seventh lap and dashed their foreheads against the rig of the Barcaean. Next, as a result of this one mishap, the cars kept smashing and colliding with each other, and the whole
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race-ground of Crisa swelled with shipwrecked chariots.
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Seeing this, the clever charioteer from Athens drew aside and paused, allowing the equestrian flood to pass in mid-crest. Orestes was driving last, keeping his horses
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behind, as his trust was in the race’s end. But when he sees that the Athenian is alone left in, he sends a shrill cry ringing through the ears of his swift colts, and gives chase. Bringing yoke level with yoke the two of them raced, first one man, then the other,
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showing his head in front of the other’s chariot. Up to now the ill-fated Orestes had driven upright safely through every circuit, upright in his upright car. But then he slackened his left rein while the horse was turning and unwittingly struck the edge of the pillar,
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breaking the axle-box in two. He spilled forward over the chariot-rail and was caught in the trim reins, and as he fell to the ground, his colts were scattered into the middle of the course.But when the crowd saw that he had fallen
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from the chariot, a cry of pity went up for the young man who had done such deeds and was allotted such bad fortune—now dashed against the earth, now tossed with his feet to the sky until the charioteers with difficulty reigned in the gallop of his horses and
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freed him, so covered with blood that no friend who saw it would have known the pitiful corpse. Immediately they burned him on a pyre, and chosen men of Phocis now bring the sad dust of that mighty form in a small urn of bronze,
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so that he may find due burial in his fatherland.Such is my story—it is grievous even to hear, but for us witnesses who looked on, it was the greatest of sorrows that these eyes have seen.
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Chorus
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Oh, sorrow! It seems now that all the stock of our ancient masters
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has been leveled clean down to the roots.
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Clytaemnestra
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O Zeus, how shall I name this news—fortunate? Or terrible, but beneficial? It is a bitter thing, when by my own misery I preserve my life.
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Paedagogus
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Why are you so despondent, lady, at my news?
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Clytaemnestra
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There is a terrible power in motherhood; a mother may be wronged, but she can feel no hate for those whom she bore.
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Paedagogus
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Then it seems that we have come in vain.
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Clytaemnestra
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No, not in vain; how can you say in vain when you have brought me sure proofs of his death?
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He sprang from my own life, yet deserting my breast and my nurture he became a fugitive, completely alien from me. And me, once he left this land, he saw no more; but, charging me with the murder of his father, he made terrible threats,
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so that neither by night nor by day could sweet sleep cover me, but the imminent moment made me live always as if I were about to die. Now, however, since today I am rid of terror of him and of this girl—that greater plague
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who shared my home while consuming undiluted my life-blood—now, I think, for all her threats, I shall pass my days in peace.
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Electra
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Ah, what misery! Now, indeed, Orestes, I must mourn your misfortune, since even dead as you are
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you are abused by this woman, your mother! Is it not just fine?
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Clytaemnestra
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You certainly are not, but he is fine as he is.
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Electra
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Listen to her, Nemesis of the recently departed!
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Clytaemnestra
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She has heard who should be heard, and has ordained well.
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Electra
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Abuse us! Fortune is with you today.
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Clytaemnestra
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You and Orestes will not stop me, then, will you?
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Electra
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It is we who are stopped; we cannot stop you.
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Clytaemnestra
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Your coming, sir, deserves large recompense, if you have stopped her clamorous tongue.
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Paedagogus
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Then I would take my leave, if all is well.
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Clytaemnestra
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Not so; your welcome would then be unworthy of me, and of my ally who sent you. No, come in. Leave her out here to shout out loud her misfortunes and those of her friends. Clytaemnestra and the Paedagogus enter the house.
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Electra
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What do you think? Does it seem to you that she, poor woman, wept and wailed terribly,
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like a grieving, anguished woman, over her son thus destroyed? No, she left us with a laugh! Ah, miserable me! Dearest Orestes, how your death has destroyed me! For your passing has torn from my heart
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the only hopes which still were mine: that you would live to return some day as the avenger of our father, and also of me in my misery. But now, where shall I turn? I am alone, cheated of you, as of my father. Hereafter I must be a slave again
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among those I most hate, my father’s murderers. Am I not in a fine way? But at least in the time remaining me I will never enter the house to dwell with them. No, lying down at these gates, without a friend, I shall wither away my days.
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Therefore, if anyone in the house be angry, let him kill me. It is a favor, if I die, but a pain, if I live. I desire life no more.
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Chorus
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Where are the thunderbolts of Zeus, or where the
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shining Sun, if they look upon these things and quietly cover them over?
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Electra
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Ah, me, ah, me!
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Chorus
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My child, why do you weep?
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Electra
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Oh!
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Chorus
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Give no cry of bad omen!
830a
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Electra
830a
You will break my heart!
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Chorus
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How do you mean?
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Electra
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If you suggest that I keep hope for those who have surely passed to Hades,
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you will trample even harder upon me as I waste away.
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Chorus
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No, for I know that the prince Amphiaraus was ensnared by a woman’s chain of gold and swallowed up. And now beneath the earth—
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Electra
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ah, me, ah, me!
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Chorus
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—He reigns supreme with the wits of the living.
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Electra
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ah, me!
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Chorus
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ah, me, indeed! For the murderess—
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Electra
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Was slain.
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Chorus
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Yes.
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Electra
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I know it; I know it. For a champion arose to avenge the grieving dead. But for me no champion remains: he who yet remained has been snatched clean away.
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Chrysothemis
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I am pursued by joy, dear sister, and I disregard seemliness in order to come with speed. I bring joyful news to relieve your former troubles and grief.
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Electra
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And from where could you find help for my sufferings, when no cure for them can be imagined?
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Chrysothemis
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Orestes is with us—know this from my lips—plainly visible, just as you see me now.
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Electra
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What, are you insane, poor girl?
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Do you laugh at my sorrows and your own?
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Chrysothemis
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No, by our father’s hearth, I do not speak in mockery. I tell you that he truly is with us.
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Electra
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Ah, miserable girl! And from whom on earth have you heard this tale, which you believe so lightly?
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Chrysothemis
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I have it on my own knowledge, no one else’s; I have seen clear proofs.
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Electra
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What have you seen, poor girl, to warrant your belief? What did you see, that you are warmed by this unquenchable fire?
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Chrysothemis
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Now, for the gods’ love, listen, so that you may know
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the rest from me before deciding whether I am sane or foolish.
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Electra
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Speak on, then, if you find pleasure in speaking.
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Chrysothemis
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Well, I will tell you all that I have seen. When I came to Father’s ancestral tomb, I saw that streams of milk had recently flowed from the top of the mound
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and that his sepulchre was encircled with garlands of all flowers that grow. I was astonished at the sight, and peered about lest somehow someone should approach close to me. But when I perceived that all the place was in stillness,
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I crept nearer to the tomb, and on the mound’s edge I saw a lock of hair, freshly severed.And the very moment I see it—ah me!—a familiar image rushes into my mind, and I feel that I am looking at a token of him whom I most love, Orestes.
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Then I lift it in my hands and make no sound of bad omen, but the tears of joy straightaway fill my eyes. Even now I know well, just as I knew then, that this fair tribute has come from no one but him. Whom else does that tomb concern, save me and you?
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And I did not make those offerings, I know, nor did you. How could you, when you cannot leave this house even to worship the gods without later regretting it? Nor, again, does our mother’s heart incline to do such deeds, nor could she have done so without our knowledge.
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No, these offerings are from Orestes! Come, dear sister, have courage! Not always does the same fortune, it is true, attend the same individuals. Ours was once to be despised, but today, perhaps, will seal the promise of much good.
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Electra
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Oh, what foolishness! How I have been pitying you!
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Chrysothemis
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What, is my news unpleasing to you?
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Electra
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You do not know where on earth or into what dreams you wander.
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Chrysothemis
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How could I not know what I have plainly seen?
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Electra
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He is dead, poor girl, and your
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salvation by him is gone. Do not look to him.
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Chrysothemis
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Ah, miserable me! From whom have you heard this?
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Electra
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From the man who was present when he perished.
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Chrysothemis
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And where is he? Amazement steals over my mind.
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Electra
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He is inside, a welcome guest, not unpleasing to our mother.
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Chrysothemis
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Ah, misery! Who, then, can have made those ample offerings to my father’s tomb?
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Electra
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Most likely, I think, someone placed those gifts in memory of the dead Orestes.
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Chrysothemis
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Oh, my misfortune! And I was hurrying here
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with such joyous nows, ignorant after all of our downfall. But now that I have arrived, I find fresh sorrows added to the old!
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Electra
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So it stands with you. Yet if you will be persuaded by me, you will lighten the load of our present trouble.
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Chrysothemis
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How can I ever raise the dead back to life?
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Electra
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That is not what I meant; I was not born so foolish.
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Chrysothemis
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What do you urge, then, of those things that I am capable of doing?
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Electra
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That you be brave in executing what I recommend.