{"collection":"Classics","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/cla/eurip/iphi_aul.htm","path":"cla/eurip/iphi_aul.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/cla/eurip/iphi_aul.htm","text":"Iphigenia At Aulis\nBy Euripides\n----------------------------------------------------------------------\nDramatis Personae\nAgamemnon\nAttendant, an old man\nChorus of Women of Chalcis\nMenelaus\nClytaemnestra\nIphigenia\nAchilles\n----------------------------------------------------------------------\nThe sea-coast at Aulis. Enter AGAMEMNON and ATTENDANT.\n----------------------------------------------------------------------\nAGAMEMNON Old man, come hither and stand before my dwelling.\nATTENDANT I come; what new schemes now, king Agamemnon?\nAGAMEMNON Thou shalt hear.\nATTENDANT I am all eagerness. 'Tis little enough sleep old age allows\nme and keenly it watches o'er my eyes.\nAGAMEMNON What can that star be, steering his course yonder?\nATTENDANT Sirius, still shooting o'er the zenith on his way near\nthe Pleiads' sevenfold track.\nAGAMEMNON The birds are still at any rate and the sea is calm; hushed\nare the winds, and silence broods o'er this narrow firth.\nATTENDANT Then why art thou outside thy tent, why so restless, my\nlord Agamemnon? All is yet quiet here in Aulis, the watch on the walls\nis not yet astir. Let us go in.\nAGAMEMNON I envy thee, old man, aye, and every man who leads a life\nsecure, unknown and unrenowned; but little I envy those in office.\nATTENDANT And yet 'tis there we place the be-all and end-all of existence.\nAGAMEMNON Aye, but that is where the danger comes; and ambition,\nsweet though it seems, brings sorrow with its near approach. At one\ntime the unsatisfied claims of Heaven upset our life, at another the\nnumerous peevish fancies of our subjects shatter it.\nATTENDANT I like not these sentiments in one who is a chief. It was\nnot to enjoy all blessings that Atreus begot thee, O Agamemnon; but\nthou must needs experience joy and sorrow alike, mortal as thou art.\nE'en though thou like it not, this is what the gods decree; but thou,\nafter letting thy taper spread its light abroad, writest the letter\nwhich is still in thy hands and then erasest the same words again,\nsealing and re-opening the scroll, then flinging the tablet to the\nground with floods of tears and leaving nothing undone in thy aimless\nbehaviour to stamp thee mad. What is it troubles thee? what news is\nthere affecting thee, my liege? Come, share with me thy story; to\na loyal and trusty heart wilt thou be telling it; for Tyndareus sent\nme that day to form part of thy wife's dowry and to wait upon the\nbride with loyalty.\nAGAMEMNON Leda, the daughter of Thestius, had three children, maidens,\nPhoebe, Clytaemnestra my wife, and Helen; this last it was who had\nfor wooers the foremost of the favoured sons of Hellas; but terrible\nthreats of spilling his rival's blood were uttered by each of them,\nshould he fail to win the maid. Now the matter filled Tyndareus, her\nfather, with perplexity; at length this thought occurred to him; the\nsuitors should swear unto each other and join right hands thereon\nand pour libations with burnt sacrifice, binding themselves by this\ncurse, \"Whoever wins the child of Tyndareus for wife, him will we\nassist, in case a rival takes her from his house and goes his way,\nrobbing her husband of his rights; and we will march against that\nman in armed array and raze his city to the ground, Hellene no less\nthan barbarian.\"\nNow when they had once pledged their word and old Tyndareus with no\nsmall cleverness had beguiled them by his shrewd device, he allowed\nhis daughter to choose from among her suitors the one towards whom\nthe breath of love might fondly waft her. Her choice fell on Menelaus;\nwould she had never taken him! Anon there came to Lacedaemon from\nPhrygia's folk the man who, legend says, adjudged the goddesses' dispute;\nin robes of gorgeous hue, ablaze with gold, in true barbaric pomp;\nand he, finding Menelaus gone from home, carried Helen off with him\nto his steading on Ida, a willing paramour. Goaded to frenzy Menelaus\nflew through Hellas, invoking the ancient oath exacted by Tyndareus\nand declaring the duty of helping the injured husband. Whereat the\nchivalry of Hellas, brandishing their spears and donning their harness,\ncame hither to the narrow straits of Aulis with armaments of ships\nand troops, with many a steed and many a car, and they chose me to\ncaptain them all for the sake of Menelaus, since I was his brother.\nWould that some other had gained that distinction instead of me! But\nafter the army was gathered and come together, we still remained at\nAulis weather-bound; and Calchas, the seer, bade us in our perplexity\nsacrifice my own begotten child Iphigenia to Artemis, whose home is\nin this land, declaring that if we offered her, we should sail and\nsack the Phrygians' capital, but if we forbore, this was not for us.\nWhen I heard this, I commanded Talthybius with loud proclamation to\ndisband the whole host, as I could never bear to slay daughter of\nmine. Whereupon my brother, bringing every argument to bear, persuaded\nme at last to face the crime; so I wrote in a folded scroll and sent\nto my wife, bidding her despatch our daughter to me on the pretence\nof wedding Achilles, it the same time magnifying his exalted rank\nand saying that he refused to sail with the Achaeans, unless a bride\nof our lineage should go to Phthia. Yes, this was the inducement I\noffered my wife, inventing, as I did, a sham marriage for the maiden.\nOf all the Achaeans we alone know the real truth, Calchas, Odysseus,\nMenelaus and myself; but that which I then decided wrongly, I now\nrightly countermand again in this scroll, which thou, old man, hast\nfound me opening and resealing beneath the shade of night. Up now\nand away with this missive to Argos, and I will tell thee by word\nof mouth all that is written herein, the contents of the folded scroll,\nfor thou art loyal to my wife and house.\nATTENDANT Say on and make it plain, that what my tongue utters may\naccord with what thou hast written.\nAGAMEMNON \"Daughter of Leda, in addition to my first letter I now\nsend thee word not to despatch thy daughter to Euboea's embosomed\nwing, to the to the waveless bay of Aulis; for after all we wiltlelebrate\nour child's wedding at another time.\"\nATTENDANT And how will Achilles, cheated of his bride, curb the fury\nof his indignation against thee and thy wife?\nAGAMEMNON Here also is a danger.\nATTENDANT Tell me what thou meanest.\nAGAMEMNON It is but his name, not himself, that Achilles is lending,\nknowing nothing of the marriage or of my scheming or my professed\nreadiness to betroth my daughter to him for a husband's embrace.\nATTENDANT A dreadful venture thine king Agamemnon! thou that, by\npromise of thy daughter's hand to the son of the goddess, wert for\nbringing the maid hither to be sacrificed for the Danai.\nAGAMEMNON Woe is me! ah woe! I am utterly distraught; bewilderment\ncomes o'er me. Away hurry thy steps, yielding nothing to old age.\nATTENDANT In haste I go, my liege.\nAGAMEMNON Sit not down by woodland founts; scorn the witcheries of\nsleep.\nATTENDANT Hush!\nAGAMEMNON And when thou passest any place where roads diverge, cast\nthine eyes all round,-taking heed that no mule-wain pass by on rolling\nwheels, bearing my daughter hither to the ships of the Danai, and\nthou see it not.\nATTENDANT It shall be so.\nAGAMEMNON Start then from the bolted gates, and if thou meet the\nescort, start them back again, and drive at full speed to the abodes\nof the Cyclopes.\nATTENDANT But tell me, how shall my message find credit with thy\nwife or child?\nAGAMEMNON Preserve the seal which thou bearest on this scroll. Away!\nalready the dawn is growing grey, lighting the lamp of day yonder\nand the fire of the sun's four steeds; help me in my trouble. (Exit\nATTENDANT.) None of mortals is prosperous or happy to the last, for\nnone was ever born to a painless life. (Exit AGAMEMNON., Enter\nCHORUS OF WOMEN OF CHALCIS.)\nCHORUS To the sandy beach of sea-coast Aulis I came after a voyage\nthrough the tides of Euripus, leaving Chalcis on its narrow firth,\nmy city which feedeth the waters of far-famed Arethusa near the sea,\nthat I might behold the army of the Achaeans and the ships rowed by\nthose god-like heroes; for our husbands tell us that fair-haired Menelaus\nand high-born Agamemnon are leading them to Troy on a thousand ships\nin quest of the lady Helen, whom herdsman Paris carried off from the\nbanks of reedy Eurotas-his guerdon from Aphrodite, when that queen\nof Cyprus entered beauty's lists with Hera and Pallas at the gushing\nfount.\nThrough the grove of-Artemis, rich with sacrifice, I sped my course,\nthe red blush mantling on my cheeks from maiden modesty, in my eagerness\nto see the soldiers' camp, the tents of the mail-clad Danai, and their\ngathered steeds. Two chieftains there I saw met together in council;\none was Aias, son of Oileus; the other Aias, son of Telamon, crown\nof glory to the men of Salamis; and I saw Protesilaus and Palamedes,\nsprung from the son of Poseidon, sitting there amusing themselves\nwith intricate figures at draughts; Diomedes too at his favourite\nsport of hurling quoits; and Meriones, the War-god's son, a marvel\nto mankind, stood at his side; likewise I beheld the offspring of\nLaertes, who came from his island hills, and with him Nireus, handsomest\nof all Achaeans; Achilles next, that nimble runner, swift on his feet\nas the wind, whom Thetis bore and Chiron trained; him I saw upon the\nbeach, racing in full armour along the shingle and straining every\nnerve to beat a team of four horses, as he sped round the track on\nfoot; and Eumelus, the grandson of Pheres, their driver, was shouting\nwhen I saw him. goading on his goodly steeds, with their bits of chased\ngoldwork; whereof the centre pair, that bore the yoke, had dappled\ncoats picked out with white, while the trace-horses, on the outside,\nfacing the turning-post in the course, were bays with spotted fetlocks.\nClose beside them Peleus' son leapt on his way, in all his harness,\nkeeping abreast the rail by the axle-box.\nNext I sought the countless fleet, a wonder to behold, that I might\nfill my girlish eyes with gazing, a sweet delight. 'the warlike Myrmidons\nfrom Phthia held the right wing with fifty swift cruisers, upon whose\nsterns, right at the ends, stood Nereid goddesses in golden-effigy,\nthe ensign of Achilles' armament. Near these were moored the Argive\nships in equal numbers, o'er which Mecisteus' son, whom Taulaus his\ngrandsire reared, and Sthenelus, son of Capaneus, were in command;\nnext in order, Theseus' son was stationed at the head of sixty ships\nfrom Attica, having the goddess Pallas set in a winged car drawn by\nsteeds with solid hoof, a lucky sight for mariners. Then I saw Boeotia's\nfleet of fifty sails decked with ensigns; these had Cadmus at the\nstern holding a golden dragon at the beaks of the vessels, and earth-born\nLeitus was their admiral. Likewise there were ships from Phocis; and\nfrom Locris came the son of Oileus with an equal contingent, leaving\nfamed Thronium's citadel; and from Mycenae, the Cyclopes' town, Atreus'\nson sent a hundred wellmanned galleys, his brother being with him\nin command, as friend with friend, that Hellas might exact on her,\nwho had fled her home to wed a foreigner. Also I saw upon Gerenian\nNestor's prows twelve from Pylos the sign of his neighbor Alpheus,\nfour-footed like a bull. Moreover there was a squadron of Aenianian\nsail under King and next the lords of Elis, stationed near'-them,\nwhom all the people named Epeians; and Eurytus was lord of these;\nlikewise he led the Taphian warriors with the white oar-blades, the\nsubjects of Meges, son of Phyleus, who had left the isles of the Echinades,\nwhere sailors cannot land. Lastly, Aias, reared in Salamis, was joining\nhis right wing to the left of those near whom he was posted, closing\nthe line with his outermost ships-twelve barques obedient to the helm-as\nI heard and then saw the crews; no safe return shall he obtain, who\nbringeth his barbaric boats to grapple Aias. There I saw the naval\narmament, but some things I heard at home about the gathered host,\nwhereof I still have a recollection. (Enter MENELAUS and ATTENDANT.)\nATTENDANT (As MENELAUS wrests a letter from him) Strange daring\nthine, Menelaus, where thou hast no right.\nMENELAUS Stand back! thou carriest loyalty to thy master too far.\nATTENDANT The very reproach thou hast for me is to my credit.\nMENELAUS Thou shalt rue it, if thou meddle in matters that concern\nthee not.\nATTENDANT Thou hadst no right to open a letter, which I was carrying.\nMENELAUS No, nor thou to be carrying sorrow to all Hellas.\nATTENDANT Argue that point with others, but surrender that letter\nto me.\nMENELAUS I shall not let go.\nATTENDANT Nor yet will I let loose my hold.\nMENELAUS Why then, this staff of mine will be dabbling thy head with\nblood ere long.\nATTENDANT To die in my master's cause were a noble death.\nMENELAUS Let go! thou art too wordy for a slave.\nATTENDANT (Seeing AGAMEMNON approaching) Master, he is wronging\nme; he snatched thy letter violently from my grasp, Agamemnon, and\nwill not heed the claims of right. (Enter AGAMEMNON.)\nAGAMEMNON How now? what means this uproar at the gates, this indecent\nbrawling?\nMENELAUS My tale, not his, has the better right to be spoken.\nAGAMEMNON Thou, Menelaus! what quarrel hast thou with this man, why\nart thou haling him hence? (Exit ATTENDANT.)\nMENELAUS Look me in the face! Be that the prelude to my story.\nAGAMEMNON Shall I, the son of Atreus, close my eyes from fear?\nMENELAUS Seest thou this scroll, the bearer of a shameful message?\nAGAMEMNON I see it, yes; and first of all surrender it.\nMENELAUS No, not till I have shewn its contents to all the Danai.\nAGAMEMNON What! hast thou broken the seal and dost know already what\nthou shouldst never have known?\nMENELAUS Yes, I opened it and know to thy sorrow the secret machinations\nof thy heart.\nAGAMEMNON Where didst thou catch my servant? Ye gods what a shameless\nheart thou hast!\nMENELAUS I was awaiting thy daughter's arrival at the camp from Argos.\nAGAMEMNON What right hast thou to watch my doings? Is not this a\nof shamelessness?\nMENELAUS My wish to do it gave the spur, for I am no slave to thee.\nAGAMEMNON Infamous! Am I not to be allowed the management of my own\nhouse?\nMENELAUS No, for thou thinkest crooked thoughts, one thing now, another\nformerly, and something different presently.\nAGAMEMNON Most exquisite refining on evil themes! A hateful thing\nthe tongue of cleverness!\nMENELAUS Aye, but a mind unstable is an unjust possession, disloyal\nto friends. Now I am anxious to test thee, and seek not thou from\nrage to turn aside from the truth, nor will I on my part overstrain\nthe case. Thou rememberest when thou wert all eagerness to captain\nthe Danai against Troy, making a pretence of declining, though eager\nfor it in thy heart; how humble thou wert then! taking each man by\nthe hand and keeping open doors for every fellow townsman who cared\nto enter, affording each in turn a chance to speak with thee, even\nthough some desired it not, seeking by these methods to purchase popularity\nfrom all bidders; then when thou hadst secured the command, there\ncame a change over thy manners; thou wert no longer so cordial before\nto whilom friends, but hard of access, seldom to be found at home.\nBut the man of real worth ought not to change his manners in the hour\nof prosperity, but should then show himself most staunch to friends,\nwhen his own good fortune can help them most effectually. This was\nthe first cause I had to reprove thee, for it was here I first discovered\nthy villainy; but afterwards, when thou camest to Aulis with all the\ngathered hosts of Hellas, thou wert of no account; no! the want of\na favourable breeze filled thee with consternation at the chance dealt\nout by Heaven. Anon the Danai began demanding that thou shouldst send\nthe fleet away instead of vainly toiling on at Aulis; what dismay\nand confusion was then depicted in thy looks, to think that thou,\nwith a thousand ships at thy command, hadst not occupied the plains\nof Priam with thy armies! And thou wouldst ask my counsel, \"What am\nI to do? what scheme can I devise. where find one?\" to save thyself\nbeing stripped of thy command and losing thy fair fame. Next when\nCalchas bade thee offer thy daughter in sacrifice to Artemis, declaring\nthat the Danai should then sail, thou wert overjoyed, and didst gladly\nundertake to offer the maid, and of thine own accord-never allege\ncompulsion!-thou art sending word to thy wife to despatch thy daughter\nhither on pretence of wedding Achilles. This is the same air that\nheard thee say it; and after all thou turnest round and hast been\ncaught recasting thy letter to this effect, \"I will no longer be my\ndaughter's murderer.\" Exactly so! Countless others have gone through\nthis phase in their conduct of public affairs; they make an effort\nwhile in power, and then retire dishonourably, sometimes owing to\nthe senselessness of the citizens, sometimes deservedly, because they\nare too feeble of themselves to maintain their watch upon the state.\nFor my part, I am more sorry for our unhappy Hellas, whose purpose\nwas to read these worthless foreigners a lesson, while now she will\nlet them escape and mock her, thanks to thee and thy daughter. May\nI never then appoint a man to rule my country or lead its warriors\nbecause his kinship! Ability what the general must have; since any\nman, with ordinary intelligence, can govern a state.\nCHORUS For brethren to come to words and blows, whene'er they disagree,\nis terrible.\nAGAMEMNON I wish to rebuke thee in turn, briefly, not lifting mine\neyes too high in shameless wise, but in more sober fashion, as a brother;\nfor it is a good man's way to be considerate. Prithee, why this burst\nof fury, these bloodshot eyes? who wrongs thee? what is it thou wantest?\nThou art fain to win a virtuous bride. Well, I cannot supply thee;\nfor she, whom thou once hadst, was ill controlled by thee. Am I then,\na man who never went astray, to suffer for thy sins? or is it my popularity\nthat galls thee? No! it is the longing thou hast to keep a fair wife\nin thy embrace, casting reason and honour to the winds. A bad man's\npleasures are like himself Am I mad, if I change to wiser counsels,\nafter previously deciding amiss? Thine is the madness rather in wishing\nto recover a wicked wife, once thou hadst lost her-a stroke of Heaven-sent\nluck. Those foolish suitors swore that oath to Tyndareus in their\nlonging to wed; but Hope was the goddess that led them on, I trow,\nand she it was that brought it about rather then thou and thy mightiness.\nSo take the field with them; they are ready for it in the folly of\ntheir hearts; for the deity is not without insight, but is able to\ndiscern where oaths have been wrongly pledged or forcibly extorted.\nI will not slay my children, nor shall thy interests be prospered\nby justice in thy vengeance for a worthless wife, while I am left\nwasting, night and day, in sorrow for what I did to one of my own\nflesh and blood, contrary to all law and justice. There is thy answer\nshortly' given, clear and easy to understand; and if thou wilt not\ncome to thy senses, I shall do the best for myself.\nCHORUS This differs from thy previous declaration, but there is good\nin it-thy child's reprieve.\nMENELAUS Ah me, how sad my lot! I have no friends then after all.\nAGAMEMNON Friends thou hast, if thou seek not their destruction.\nMENELAUS Where wilt thou find any proof that thou art sprung from\nthe same sire as I?\nAGAMEMNON Thy moderation, not thy madness do I share by nature.\nMENELAUS Friends should sympathize with friends in sorrow.\nAGAMEMNON Claim my help by kindly service, not by paining me.\nMENELAUS So thou hast no mind to share this trouble with Hellas?\nAGAMEMNON No, Hellas is diseased like thee according to some god's\ndesign.\nMENELAUS Go vaunt thee then on thy sceptre, after betraying thine\nown brother! while seek some different means and other friends. (Enter\nMESSENGER.)\nMESSENGER Agamemnon, lord of all Hellenes! I am come and bring thee\nthy daughter, whom thou didst call Iphigenia in thy home; and her\nmother, thy wife Clytemnestra, is with her, and the child Orestes,\na sight to gladden thee after thy long absence from thy palace; but,\nas they had been travelling long and far, they are now refreshing\ntheir tender feet at the waters of a fair spring, they and their horses,\nfor we turned these loose in the grassy meadow to browse their fill;\nbut I am come as their forerunner to prepare thee for their reception;\nfor the army knows already of thy daughter's arrival, so quickly did\nthe rumour spread; and all the folk are running together to the sight,\nthat they may see thy child; for Fortune's favourites enjoy a worldwide\nfame and have all eyes fixed on them. \"Is it a wedding?\" some ask,\n\"or what is happening? or has king Agamemnon from fond yearning summoned\nhis daughter hither?\" From others thou wouldst have heard: \"They are\npresenting the maiden to Artemis, queen of Aulis, previous to marriage;\nwho can the bridegroom be, that is to lead her home?\"\nCome, then, begin the rites-that is the next step-by getting the baskets\nready; crown your heads; prepare the wedding-hymn, thou and prince\nMenelaus with thee; let flutes resound throughout the tents with noise\nof dancer's feet; for this is a happy day, that is come for the maid.\nAGAMEMNON Thou hast my thanks; now go within; for the rest it will\nbe well, as Fate proceeds. (Exit MESSENGER.) Ah, woe is me! unhappy\nwretch, what can I say? where shall I begin? Into what cruel straits\nhave I been plunged! Fortune has outwitted me, proving far cleverer\nthan any cunning of mine. What an advantage humble birth possesses!\nfor it is easy for her sons to weep and tell out all their sorrows;\nwhile to the high-born man come these same sorrows, but we have dignity\nthroned o'er our life and are the people's slaves. I, for instance,\nam ashamed to weep, nor less, poor wretch, to check my tears at the\nawful pass to which I am brought. Oh! what am I to tell my wife? how\nshall I welcome her? with what face meet her? for she too has undone\nme by coming uninvited in this my hour of sorrow; yet it was but natural\nshe should come with her daughter to prepare the bride and perform\nthe fondest duties, where she will discover my villainy. And for this\npoor maid-why maid? Death, methinks, will soon make her his bride-how\nI pity her! Thus will she plead to me, I trow: \"My father will thou\nslay me? Be such the wedding thou thyself mayst find, and whosoever\nis a friend to thee!\" while Orestes, from his station near us, will\ncry in childish accents, inarticulate, yet fraught with meaning. Alas!\nto what utter ruin Paris, the son of Priam, the cause of these troubles,\nhas brought me by his union with Helen!\nCHORUS I pity her myself, in such wise as a woman, and she a stranger,\nmay bemoan the misfortunes of royalty.\nMENELAUS (Offering his hand) Thy hand, brother! let me grasp it.\nAGAMEMNON I give it; thine is the victory, mine the sorrow.\nMENELAUS By Pelops our reputed grandsire and Atreus our father I\nswear to tell thee the truth from my heart, without any covert purpose,\nbut only what I think. The sight of thee in tears made me pity thee,\nand in return I shed a tear for thee myself; I withdraw from my former\nproposals, ceasing to be a cause of fear to thee; yea, and I will\nput myself in thy present position; and I counsel thee, slay not thy\nchild nor prefer my interests to thine; for it is not just that thou\nshouldst grieve, while I am glad, or that thy children should die,\nwhile mine still see the light of day. What is it, after all, I seek?\nIf I am set on marriage, could I not find a bride as choice elsewhere?\nWas I to lose a brother-the last I should have lost-to win a Helen,\ngetting bad for good? I was mad, impetuous as a youth, till I perceived,\non closer view, what slaying children really meant. Moreover I am\nfilled with compassion for the hapless maiden, doomed to bleed that\nI may wed, when I reflect that we are kin. What has thy daughter to\ndo with Helen? Let the army be disbanded and leave Aulis; dry those\nstreaming eyes, brother, and provoke me not to tears. Whatever concern\nthou hast in oracles that affect thy child, let it be none of mine;\ninto thy hands I resign my share therein. A sudden change, thou'lt\nsay, from my fell proposals! A natural course for me; affection for\nmy brother caused the change. These are the ways of a man not void\nof virtue, to pursue on each occasion what is best.\nCHORUS A generous speech, worthy of Tantalus, the son of Zeus! Thou\ndost not shame thy ancestry.\nAGAMEMNON I thank thee, Menelaus, for this unexpected suggestion;\n'tis an honourable proposal, worthy of thee.\nMENELAUS Sometimes love, sometimes the selfishness of their families\ncauses a quarrel between brothers; I loathe a relationship of this\nkind which is bitterness to both.\nAGAMEMNON 'Tis useless, for circumstances compel me to carry out\nthe murderous sacrifice of my daughter.\nMENELAUS How so? who will compel thee to slay thine own child?\nAGAMEMNON The whole Achaean army here assembled.\nMENELAUS Not if thou send her back to Argos.\nAGAMEMNON I might do that unnoticed, but there will be another thing\nI cannot.\nMENELAUS What is that? Thou must not fear the mob too much.\nAGAMEMNON Calchas will tell the Argive host his oracles.\nMENELAUS Not if he be killed ere that-an easy matter.\nAGAMEMNON The whole tribe of seers is a curse with its ambition.\nMENELAUS Yes, and good for nothing and useless, when amongst us.\nAGAMEMNON Has the thought, which is rising in my mind, no terrors\nfor thee?\nMENELAUS How can I understand thy meaning, unless thou declare it?\nAGAMEMNON The son of Sisyphus knows all.\nMENELAUS Odysseus cannot possibly hurt us.\nAGAMEMNON He was ever shifty by nature, siding with the mob.\nMENELAUS True, he is enslaved by the love of popularity, a fearful\nevil.\nAGAMEMNON Bethink thee then, will he not arise among the Argives\nand tell them the oracles that Calchas delivered, saying of me that\nI undertook to offer Artemis a victim, and after all am proving false?\nThen, when he has carried the army away with him, he will bid the\nArgives slay us and sacrifice the maiden; and if I escape to Argos,\nthey will come and destroy the place, razing it to the ground, Cyclopean\nwalls and all. That is my trouble. Woe is me! to what straits Heaven\nhas brought me at this pass! Take one precaution for me, Menelaus,\nas thou goest through the host, that Clytemnestra learn this not,\ntill I have taken my child and devoted her to death, that my affliction\nmay be attended with the fewest tears. (Turning to the CHORUS) And\nyou, ye stranger dames, keep silence. (Exeunt AGAMEMNON and MENELAUS.)\nCHORUS Happy they who find the goddess come in moderate might, sharing\nwith self-restraint in Aphrodite's gift of marriage and enjoying calm\nand rest from frenzied passions, wilerein the Love-god, golden-haired,\nstretches his charmed bow with arrows twain, and one is aimed at happiness,\nthe other at life's confusion. O lady Cypris, queen of beauty! far\nfrom my bridal bower I ban the last. Be mine delight in moderation\nand pure desires, and may I have a share in love, but shun excess\ntherein\nMen's natures vary, and their habits differ, but true virtue is always\nmanifest. Likewise the training that comes of education conduces greatly\nto virtue; for not only is modesty wisdom, but it has also the rare\ngrace of seeing by its better judgment what is right; whereby glory,\never young, is shed o'er life by reputation. A great thing it is to\nfollow virtue's footsteps-for women in their secret loves; while in\nmen again an inborn sense of order, shown in countless ways, adds\nto a city's greatness.\nThou camest, O Paris, to the place where thou wert reared to herd\nthe kine amid the white heifers of Ida, piping in foreign strain and\nbreathing on thy reeds an echo of the Phrygian airs Olympus played.\nFull-uddered cows were browsing at the spot where that verdict 'twixt\ngoddesses was awaiting thee the cause of thy going to Hellas to stand\nbefore the ivory palace, kindling love in Helen's tranced eyes and\nfeeling its flutter in thine own breast; whence the fiend of strife\nbrought Hellas with her chivalry and ships to the towers of Troy.\nOh! great is the bliss the great enjoy. Behold Iphigenia, the king's\nroyal child, and Clytaemnestra, the daughter of Tyndareus; how proud\ntheir lineage! how high their pinnacle of fortune! These mighty ones,\nwhom wealth attends, are very gods in the eyes of less favoured folk.\nHalt we here, maidens of Chalcis, and lift the queen from her chariot\nto the ground without stumbling, supporting her gently in our arms,\nwith kind intent, that the renowned daughter of Agamemnon but just\narrived may feel no fear; strangers ourselves, avoid we aught that\nmay disturb or frighten the strangers from Argos. (Enter CLYTAEMNESTRA\nand IPHIGENIA.)\nCLYTAEMNESTRA I take this as a lucky omen, thy kindness and auspicious\ngreeting, and have good hope that it is to a happy marriage I conduct\nthe bride. (To Attendants) Take from the chariot the dowry I am\nbringing for my daughter and convey it within with careful heed.\nMy daughter, leave the horse-drawn car, planting thy faltering footstep\ndelicately. (To the CHORUS) Maidens, take her in your arms and lift\nher from the chariot, and let one of you give me the support of her\nhand, that I may quit my seat in the carriage with fitting grace.\nSome or you stand at the horses' heads; for the horse has a timid\neye, easily frightened; here take this child Orestes, son of Agamemnon,\nbabe as he still is.\nWhat! sleeping, little one, tired out by thy ride in the chariot?\nAwake to bless thy sister's wedding; for thou, my gallant boy, shalt\nget by this marriage a kinsman gallant as thyself, the Nereid's godlike\noffspring. Come hither to thy mother, my daughter, Iphigenia, and\nseat thyself beside me, and stationed near show my happiness to these\nstrangers; yes, come hither and welcome the sire thou lovest so dearly.\nHail! my honoured lord, king Agamemnon! we have obeyed thy commands\nand are come. (Enter AGAMEMNON.)\nIPHIGENIA (Throwing herself into AGAMEMNON'S arms) Be not wroth\nwith me, mother, if I run from thy side and throw myself on my father's\nbreast.\nO my father! I long to outrun others and embrace thee after this long\nwhile; for I yearn to see thy face; be not wroth with me.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Thou mayst do so, daughter; for of all the children\nI have born, thou hast ever loved thy father best.\nIPHIGENIA I see thee, father, joyfully after a long season.\nAGAMEMNON And I thy father thee; thy words do equal duty for both\nof us.\nIPHIGENIA All hail, father! thou didst well in bringing me hither\nto thee.\nAGAMEMNON I know not how I am to say yes or no to that, my child.\nIPHIGENIA Ha! how wildly thou art looking, spite of thy joy at seeing\nme.\nAGAMEMNON A man has many cares when he is king and general too.\nIPHIGENIA Be mine, all mine to-day; turn not unto moody thoughts.\nAGAMEMNON Why so I am, all thine to-day; I have no other thought.\nIPHIGENIA Then smooth thy knitted brow, unbend and smile.\nAGAMEMNON Lo! my child, my joy at seeing thee is even as it is.\nIPHIGENIA And hast thou then the tear-drop streaming from thy eyes?\nAGAMEMNON Ave, for long is the absence from each other, that awalts\nus.\nIPHIGENIA I know not, dear father mine, I know not of what thou art\nspeaking.\nAGAMEMNON Thou art moving my pity all the more by speaking so sensibly.\nIPHIGENIA My words shall turn to senselessness, if that will cheer\nthee more.\nAGAMEMNON (Aside) Ah, woe is me! this silence is too much. (To\nIPHIGENIA) Thou hast my thanks.\nIPHIGENIA Stay with thy children at home, father.\nAGAMEMNON My own wish! but to my sorrow I may not humour it.\nIPHIGENIA Ruin seize their warring and the woes of Menelaus!\nAGAMEMNON First will that, which has been my life-long ruin, bring\nruin unto others.\nIPHIGENIA How long thou wert absent in the bays of Aulis!\nAGAMEMNON Aye, and there is still a hindrance to my sending the army\nforward.\nIPHIGENIA Where do men say the Phrygians live, father?\nAGAMEMNON In a land where I would Paris, the son of Priam, ne'er\nhad dwelt.\nIPHIGENIA 'Tis a long voyage thou art bound on, father, after thou\nleavest me.\nAGAMEMNON Thou wilt meet thy father again, my daughter.\nIPHIGENIA Ah! would it were seemly that thou shouldst take me as\na fellow-voyager!\nAGAMEMNON Thou too hast a voyage to make to a haven where thou wilt\nremember thy father.\nIPHIGENIA Shall I sail thither with my mother or alone?\nAGAMEMNON All alone, without father or mother.\nIPHIGENIA What! hast thou found me a new home, father!\nAGAMEMNON Enough of this! 'tis not for girls to know such things.\nIPHIGENIA Speed home from Troy, I pray thee, father, as soon as thou\nhast triumphed there.\nAGAMEMNON There is a sacrifice have first to offer here.\nIPHIGENIA Yea, 'tis thy duty to heed religion with aid of holy rites.\nAGAMEMNON Thou wilt witness it, for thou wilt be standing near the\nlaver.\nIPHIGENIA Am I to lead the dance then round the altar, father?\nAGAMEMNON (Aside) I count thee happier than myself because thou\nknowest nothing. (To IPHIGENIA) Go within into the presence of maidens,\nafter thou hast given me thy hand and one sad kiss, on the eve of\nthy lengthy sojourn far from thy father's side.\nBosom, cheek, and golden hair! ah, how grievous ye have found Helen\nand the Phrygians' city! I can no more; the tears come welling to\nmy eyes, the moment I touch thee. (Exit IPHIGENIA., Turning to\nCLYTAEMNESTRA) Herein I crave thy pardon, daughter of Leda, if I\nshowed excessive grief at the thought of resigning my daughter to\nAchilles; for though we are sending her to taste of bliss, still it\nwrings a parent's heart, when he, the father who has toiled so hard\nfor them, commits his children to the homes of strangers.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA I am not so void of sense; bethink thee, I shall go\nthrough this as well, when I lead the maiden from the chamber to the\nsound of the marriage-hymn; wherefore I chide thee not; but custom\nwill combine with time to make the smart grow less.\nAs touching him, to whom thou hast betrothed our daughter, I know\nhis name, 'tis true, but would fain learn his lineage and the land\nof his birth.\nAGAMEMNON There was one Aegina, the daughter of Asopus.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Who wedded her? some mortal or a god?\nAGAMEMNON Zeus, and she bare Aeacus, the prince of Cenone.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA What son of Aeacus secured his father's halls?\nAGAMEMNON Peleus, who wedded the daughter of Nereus.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA With the god's consent, or when he had taken her in\nspite of gods?\nAGAMEMNON Zeus betrothed her, and her guardian gave consent.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Where did he marry her? amid the billows of the sea?\nAGAMEMNON In Chiron's home, at sacred Pelion's foot.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA What! the abode ascribed to the race of Centaurs?\nAGAMEMNON It was there the gods celebrated the marriage feast of\nPeleus.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Did Thetis or his father train Achilles?\nAGAMEMNON Chiron brought him up, to prevent his learning the ways\nof the wicked.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Ah wise the teacher, still wiser the father, who intrusted\nhis son to such hands.\nAGAMEMNON Such is the future husband of thy daughter.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA A blameless lord; but what city in Hellas is his?\nAGAMEMNON He dwells on the banks of the river Apidanus, in the borders\nof Phthia.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Wilt thou convey our daughter thither?\nAGAMEMNON He who takes her to himself will see to that.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Happiness attend the pair! Which day will he marry\nher?\nAGAMEMNON As soon as the full moon comes to give its blessing.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Hast thou already offered the goddess a sacrifice to\nusher in the maiden's marriage?\nAGAMEMNON I am about to do so; that is the very thing I was engaged\nin.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Wilt thou celebrate the marriage-feast thereafter?\nAGAMEMNON Yes, when I have offered a sacrifice required by Heaven\nof me.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA But where am I to make ready the feast for the women?\nAGAMEMNON Here beside our gallant Argive ships.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Finely here! but still I must; good come of it for\nall that!\nAGAMEMNON I will tell thee, lady, what to do; so obey me now.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Wherein? for I was ever wont to yield thee obedience.\nAGAMEMNON Here, where the bridegroom is, will!\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Which of my duties will ye perform in the mother's\nabsence?\nAGAMEMNON Give thy child away with help of Danai.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA And where am I to be the while?\nAGAMEMNON Get thee to Argos, and take care of thy unwedded daughters.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA And leave my child? Then who will raise her bridal\ntorch?\nAGAMEMNON I will provide the proper wedding torch.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA That is not the custom; but thou thinkest lightly of\nthese things.\nAGAMEMNON It is not good thou shouldst be alone among a soldier-crowd.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA It is good that a mother should give her own child\naway.\nAGAMEMNON Aye, and that those maidens at home should not be left\nalone.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA They are in safe keeping, pent in their maiden-bowers.\nAGAMEMNON Obey.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Nay, by the goddess-queen of Argos! go, manage matters\nout of doors; but in the house it is my place to decide what is proper\nfor maidens at their wedding. Exit.\nAGAMEMNON Woe is me! my efforts are baffled; I am disappointed in\nmy hope, anxious as I was to get my wife out of sight; foiled at every\npoint, I form my plots and subtle schemes against my best-beloved.\nBut I will go, in spite of all, with Calchas the priest, to inquire\nthe goddess's good pleasure, fraught with ill-luck as it is to me,\nand with trouble to Hellas. He who is wise should keep in his house\na good and useful wife or none at all. (Exit.)\nCHORUS They say the Hellenes' gathered host will come in arms aboard\ntheir ships to Simois with its silver eddies, even to Ilium, the plain\nof Troy beloved by Phoebus; where famed Cassandra, I am told, whene'er\nthe god's resistless prophecies inspire her, wildly tosses her golden\ntresses, wreathed with crown of verdant bay. And on the towers of\nTroy and round her walls shall Trojans stand, when sea-borne troops\nwith brazen shields row in on shapely ships to the channels of the\nSimois, eager to take Helen, the sister of that heavenly pair whom\nZeus begat, from Priam, and bear her back to Hellas by toil of Achaea's\nshields and spears; encircling Pergamus, the Phrygians' town, with\nmurderous war around her stone-built towers, dragging men's heads\nbackward to cut their throats, and sacking the citadel of Troy from\nroof to base, a cause of many tears to maids and Priam's wife; and\nHelen, the daughter of Zeus, shall weep in bitter grief, because she\nleft her lord.\nOh! ne'er may there appear to me or to my children's children the\nprospect which the wealthy Lydian dames and Phrygia's brides will\nhave, as at their looms they hold converse: \"Say who will pluck this\nfair blossom from her ruined country, tightening his grasp on lovely\ntresses till the tears flow? 'Tis all through thee, the offspring\nof the long-necked swan; if indeed it be a true report that Leda bare\nthee to a winged bird, when Zeus transformed himself thereto, or whether,\nin the pages of the poets, fables have carried these tales to men's\nears idly, out of season.\" (Enter ACHILLES.)\nACHILLES Where in these tents is Achaea's general? Which of his servants\nwill announce to him that Achilles, the son of Peleus, is at his gates\nseeking him? For this delay at the Euripus is not the same for all\nof us; there be some, for instance, who, though still unwed, have\nleft their houses desolate and are idling here upon the beach, while\nothers are married and have children; so strange the longing for this\nexpedition that has fallen on their hearts by Heaven's will. My own\njust plea must I declare, and whoso else hath any wish will speak\nfor himself. Though I have left Pharsalia and Peleus, still I linger\nhere by reason of these light breezes at the Euripus, restraining\nmy Myrmidons, while they are ever instant with me saying, \"Why do\nwe tarry, Achilles? how much longer must we count the days to the\nstart for Ilium? do something, if thou art so minded; else lead home\nthy men, and wait not for the tardy action of these Atridae.\" (Enter\nCLYTAEMNESTRA.)\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Hail to thee, son of the Nereid goddess! I heard thy\nvoice from within the tent and therefore came forth.\nACHILLES O modesty revered! who can this lady be whom I behold, so\nrichly dowered with beauty's gifts?\nCLYTAEMNESTRA No wonder thou knowest me not, seeing I am one thou\nhast never before set eyes on; I praise thy reverent address to modesty.\nACHILLES Who art thou, and wherefore art thou come to the mustering\nof the Danai-thou, a woman, to a fenced camp of men?\nCLYTAEMNESTRA The daughter of Leda I; my name Clytaemnestra; and\nmy husband king Agamemnon.\nACHILLES Well and shortly answered on all important points! but it\nill befits that I should stand talking to women.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Stay; why seek to fly? Give me thy hand, a prelude\nto a happy marriage.\nACHILLES What is it thou sayest? I give thee my hand? Were I to lay\na finger where I have no right, I could ne'er meet Agamemnon's eye.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA The best of rights hast thou, seeing it is my child\nthou wilt wed, O son of the sea-goddess, whom Nereus begat.\nACHILLES What wedding dost thou speak of? words fail me, lady; can\nthy wits have gone astray and art thou inventing this?\nCLYTAEMNESTRA All men are naturally shy in the presence of new relations,\nwhen these remind them of their wedding.\nACHILLES Lady, I have never wooed daughter of thine, nor have the\nsons of Atreus ever mentioned marriage to me.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA What can it mean? thy turn now to marvel at my words,\nfor thine are passing strange to me.\nACHILLES Hazard a guess; that we can both do in this matter; for\nit may be we are both correct in our statements.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA What! have I suffered such indignity? The marriage\nI am courting has no reality, it seems; I am ashamed of it.\nACHILLES Some one perhaps has made a mock of thee and me; pay no\nheed thereto; make light of it.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Farewell; I can no longer face thee with unfaltering\neyes, after being made a liar and suffering this indignity.\nACHILLES 'Tis \"farewell\" too I bid thee, lady; and now I go within\nthe tent to seek thy husband.\nATTENDANT (Calling through the tent-door) Stranger of the race of\nAeacus, stay awhile! Ho there! thee I mean, O goddess-born, and thee,\ndaughter of Leda.\nACHILLES Who is it calling through the half-opened door? what fear\nhis voice betrays!\nATTENDANT A slave am I; of that I am not proud, for fortune permits\nit not.\nACHILLES Whose slave art thou? not mine; for mine and Agamemnon's\ngoods are separate.\nATTENDANT I belong to this lady who stands before the tent, a gift\nto her from Tyndareus her father.\nACHILLES I am waiting; tell me, if thou art desirous, why thou hast\nstayed me.\nATTENDANT Are ye really all alone here at the door?\nCLYTAEMNESTRA To us alone wilt thou address thyself; come forth from\nthe king's tent.\nATTENDANT (Coming out) O Fortune and my own foresight, preserve\nwhom I desire!\nACHILLES That speech will save them-in the future; it has a certain\npompous air.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Delay not for the sake of touching my right hand, if\nthere is aught that thou wouldst say to me.\nATTENDANT Well, thou knowest my character and my devotion to thee\nand thy children.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA I know thou hast grown old in the service of my house.\nATTENDANT Likewise thou knowest it was in thy dowry king Agamemnon\nreceived me.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Yes, thou camest to Argos with me, and hast been mine\nthis long time past.\nATTENDANT True; and though I bear thee all goodwill, I like not thy\nlord so well.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Come, come, unfold whate'er thou hast to say.\nATTENDANT Her father, he that begat her, is on the point of slaying\nthy daughter with his own hand.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA How? Out upon thy story, old dotard! thou art mad.\nATTENDANT Severing with a sword the hapless maid's white throat.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Ah, woe is me! Is my husband haply mad?\nATTENDANT Nay; sane, except where thou and thy daughter are concerned;\nthere he is mad.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA What is his reason? what vengeful fiend impels him?\nATTENDANT Oracles-at least so Calchas says, in order that the host\nmay start\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Whither? Woe is me, and woe is thee, thy father's destined\nvictim!\nATTENDANT To the halls of Dardanus, that Menelaus may recover Helen.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA So Helen's return then was fated to affect Iphigenia?\nATTENDANT Thou knowest all; her father is about to offer thy child\nto Artemis.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA But that marriage-what pretext had it for bringing\nme from home?\nATTENDANT An inducement to thee to bring thy daughter cheerfully,\nto wed her to Achilles.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA On a deadly errand art thou come, my daughter, both\nthou, and I, thy mother.\nATTENDANT Piteous the lot of both of you-and fearful Agamemnon's\nventure.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Alas! I am undone; my eyes can no longer stem their\ntears.\nATTENDANT What more natural than to weep the loss of thy children?\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Whence, old man, dost say thou hadst this news?\nATTENDANT I had started to carry thee a letter referring to the former\nwriting.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Forbidding or combining to urge my bringing the child\nto her death?\nATTENDANT Nay, forbidding it, for thy lord was then in his sober\nsenses.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA How comes it then, if thou wert really bringing me\na letter, that thou dost not now deliver into my hands?\nATTENDANT Menelaus snatched it from me-he who caused this trouble.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Dost thou hear that, son of Peleus, the Nereid's child?\nACHILLES I have been listening to the tale of thy sufferings, and\nI am indignant to think I was used as a tool.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA They will slay my child; they have tricked her with\nthy marriage.\nACHILLES Like thee I blame thy lord, nor do I view it with mere indifference.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA No longer will I let shame prevent my kneeling to thee,\na mortal to one goddess-born; why do I affect reserve? whose interests\nshould I consult before my child's? (Throwing herself before ACHILLES)\nOh! help me, goddess-born, in my sore distress, and her that was\ncalled thy bride-in vain, 'tis true, yet called she was. For thee\nit was I wreathed her head and led her forth as if to marriage, but\nnow it is to slaughter I am bringing her. On thee will come reproach\nbecause thou didst not help her; for though not wedded to her, yet\nwert thou the loving husband of my hapless maid in name at any rate.\nBy thy beard, right hand, and mother too I do implore thee; for thy\nname it was that worked my ruin, and thou art bound to stand by that.\nExcept thy knees I have no altar whereunto to fly; and not a friend\nstands at my side. Thou hast heard the cruel abandoned scheme of Agamemnon;\nand I, a woman, am come, as thou seest, to a camp of lawless sailor-folk,\nbold in evil's cause, though useful when they list; wherefore if thou\nboldly stretch forth thine arm in my behalf, our safety is assured;\nbut if thou withhold it, we are lost.\nCHORUS A wondrous thing is motherhood, carrying with it a potent\nspell, wherein all share, so that for their children's sake they will\nendure affliction.\nACHILLES My proud spirit is stirred to range aloft, but it has learnt\nto grieve in misfortune and rejoice in high prosperity with equal\nmoderation. For these are the men who can count on ordering all their\nlife aright by wisdom's rules. True, there are cases where 'tis pleasant\nnot to be too wise, but there are others, where some store of wisdom\nhelps. Brought up in godly Chiron's halls myself, I learnt to keep\na single heart; and provided the Atridae lead aright, I will obey\nthem; but when they cease therefrom, no more will I obey. Nay, but\nhere and in Troy I will show the freedom of my nature, and, as far\nas in me lies, do honour to Ares with my spear. Thee, lady, who hast\nsuffered so cruelly from thy nearest and dearest, will I, by every\neffort in a young man's power, set right, investing thee with that\namount of pity, and never shall thy daughter, after being once called\nmy bride, die by her father's hand; for I will not lend myself to\nthy husband's subtle tricks; no! for it will be my name that kills\nthy child, although it wieldeth not the steel. Thy own husband is\nthe actual cause, but I shall no longer be guiltless, if, because\nof me and my marriage, this maiden perishes, she that hath suffered\npast endurance and been the victim of affronts most strangely undeserved.\nSo am I made the poorest wretch in Argos; I a thing of naught, and\nMenelaus counting for a man! No son of Peleus I, but the issue of\na vengeful fiend, if my name shall serve thy husband for the murder.\nNay! by Nereus, who begat my mother Thetis, in his home amid the flowing\nwaves, never shall king Agamemnon touch thy daughter, no! not even\nto the laying of a finger-tip upon her robe; else will Sipylus, that\nfrontier town of barbarism, the cradle of those chieftains' line,\nbe henceforth a city indeed, while Phthia's name will nowhere find\nmention. Calchas, the seer, shall rue beginning the sacrifice with\nhis barley-meal and lustral water. Why, what is a seer? A man who\nwith luck tells the truth sometimes, with frequent falsehoods, but\nwhen his luck deserts him, collapses then and there. It is not to\nsecure a bride that I have spoken thus-there be maids unnumbered eager\nto have my love-no! but king Agamemnon has put an insult on me; he\nshould have asked my leave to use my name as a means to catch the\nchild, for it was I chiefly who induced Clytaemnestra to betroth her\ndaughter to me; verily I had yielded this to Hellas, if that was where\nour going to Ilium broke down; I would never have refused to further\nmy fellow soldiers' common interest. But, as it is, I am as naught\nin the eyes of those chieftains, and little they reck of treating\nme well or ill. My sword shall soon know if any one is to snatch thy\ndaughter from me, for then will I make it reek with the bloody stains\nof slaughter, ere it reach Phrygia. Calm thyself then; as a god in\nhis might I appeared to thee, without being so, but such will I show\nmyself for all that.\nCHORUS Son of Peleus, thy words are alike worthy of thee and that\nsea-born deity, the holy goddess.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Ah! would I could find words to utter thy praise without\nexcess, and yet not lose the graciousness thereof by stinting it;\nfor when the good are praised, they have a feeling, as it were, of\nhatred for those who in their praise exceed the mean. But I am ashamed\nof intruding a tale of woe, since my affliction touches myself alone\nand thou art not affected by troubles of mine; but still it looks\nwell for the man of worth to assist the unfortunate, even when he\nis not connected with them. Wherefore pity us, for our sufferings\ncry for pity; in the first place, I have harboured an idle hope in\nthinking to have thee wed my daughter; and next, perhaps, the slaying\nof my child will be to thee an evil omen in thy wooing hereafter,\nagainst which thou must guard thyself. Thy words were good, both first\nand last; for if thou will it so, my daughter will be saved. Wilt\nhave her clasp thy knees in suppliant wise? 'Tis no maid's part; yet\nif it seem good to thee, why come she shall with the modest look of\nfree-born maid; but if I shall obtain the self-same end from thee\nwithout ker coming, then let her abide within, for there is dignity\nin her reserve; still reserve must only go as far as the case allows.\nACHILLES Bring not thou thy daughter out for me to see, lady, nor\nlet us incur the reproach of the ignorant; for an army, when gathered\ntogether without domestic duties to employ it, loves the evil gossip\nof malicious tongues. After all, should ye supplicate me, ye will\nattain a like result as if I had ne'er been supplicated; for I am\nmyself engaged in a mighty struggle to rid you of your troubles. One\nthing be sure thou hast heard; I will not tell a lie; if I do that\nor idly mock thee, may I die, but live if I preserve the maid.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Bless thee for ever succouring the distressed!\nACHILLES Hearken then to me, that the matter may succeed.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA What is thy proposal? for hear thee I must.\nACHILLES Let us once more urge her father to a better frame of mind.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA He is something of a coward, and fears the army too\nmuch.\nACHILLES Still argument o'erthroweth argument.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Cold hope indeed; but tell me what I must do.\nACHILLES Entreat him first not to slay his children, and if he is\nstubborn, come to me. Fir if he consents to thy request, my intervention\nneed go no further, since this consent insures thy safety. I too shall\nshow myself in a better light to my friend, and the army will not\nblame me, if I arrange the matter by reason rather than force; while,\nshould things turn out well, the result will prove satisfactory both\nto thee and thy friends, even without my interference.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA How sensibly thou speakest! I must act as seemeth best\nto thee; but should I fail of my object, where am I to see thee again?\nwhither must I turn my wretched steps and find thee ready to champion\nmy distress?\nACHILLES I am keeping watch to guard thee, where occasion calls,\nthat none see thee passing through the host of Danai with that scared\nlook. Shame not thy father's house; for Tyndareus deserveth not to\nbe ill spoken of, being a mighty man in Hellas.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA 'Tis even so. Command me; I must play the slave to\nthee. If there are gods, thou for thy righteous dealing wilt find\nthem favourable; if there are none, what need to toil? (Exeunt ACHILLES\nand CLYTAEMNESTRA.)\nCHORUS What wedding-hymn was that which raised its strains to the\nsound of Libyan flutes, to the music of the dancer's lyre, and the\nnote of the pipe of reeds?\n'Twas in the day Pieria's fair-tressed choir came o'er the slopes\nof Pelion to the marriage-feast of Peleus, beating the ground with\nprint of golden sandals at the banquet of the gods, and hymning in\ndulcet strains the praise of Thetis and the son of Aeacus, o'er the\nCentaurs' hill, down through the woods of Pelion.\nThere was the Dardanian boy, Phrygian Ganymede, whom Zeus delights\nto honour, drawing off the wine he mixed in the depths of golden bowls;\nwhile, along the gleaming sand, the fifty daughters of Nereus graced\nthe marriage with their dancing, circling in a mazy ring.\nCame too the revel-rout of Centaurs, mounted on horses, to the feast\nof the gods and the mixing-bowl of Bacchus, leaning on fir-trees,\nwith wreaths of green foliage round their heads; and loudly cried\nthe prophet Chiron, skilled in arts inspired by Phoebus; \"Daughter\nof Nereus, thou shalt bear a son\"-whose name he gave-\"a dazzling light\nto Thessaly; for he shall come with an army of spearmen to the far-famed\nland of Priam, to set it in a blaze, his body cased in a suit of golden\nmail forged by Hephaestus, a gift from his goddess-mother, even from\nThetis who bore him.\"\nThen shed the gods a blessing on the marriage of the high-born bride,\nwho was first of Nereus' daughters, and on the wedding of Peleus.\nBut thee, will Argives crown, wreathing the lovely tresses of thy\nhair, like a dappled mountain hind brought from some rocky cave or\na heifer undefiled, and staining with blood thy human throat; though\nthou wert never reared like these amid the piping and whistling of\nherdsmen, but at thy mother's side, to be decked one day by her as\nthe bride of a son of Inachus. Where now does the face of modesty\nor virtue avail aught? seeing that godlessness holds sway, and virtue\nis neglected by men and thrust behind them, lawlessness o'er law prevailing,\nand mortals no longer making common cause to keep the jealousy of\ngods from reaching them.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA (Reappearing from the tent) I have come from the tent\nto look out for my husband, who went away and left its shelter long\nago; while that poor child, my daughter, hearing of the death her\nfather designs for her, is in tears, uttering in many keys her piteous\nlamentation. (Catching sight of AGAMEMNON) It Seems I was speaking\nof one not far away; for there is Agamemnon, who will soon be detected\nin the commission of a crime against his own child. (Enter AGAMEMNON.)\nAGAMEMNON Daughter of Leda, 'tis lucky I have found thee outside\nthe tent, to discuss with thee in our daughter's absence subjects\nnot suited for the ears of maidens on the eve of marriage.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA What, pray, is dependent on the present crisis?\nAGAMEMNON Send the maiden out to join her father, for the lustral\nwater stands there ready, and barley-meal to scatter with the hand\non the cleansing flame, and heifers to be slain in honour of the goddess\nArtemis, to usher in the marriage, their black blood spouting from\nthem.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Though fair the words thou usest, I know not how I\nam to name thy deeds in terms of praise.\nCome forth, my daughter; full well thou knowest what is in thy father's\nmind; take the child Orestes, thy brother, and bring him with thee\nin the folds of thy robe. (Enter IPHIGENIA.) Behold chold she comes,\nin obedience to thy summons. Myself will speak the rest alike for\nher and me.\nAGAMEMNON My child, why weepest thou and no longer lookest cheerfully?\nwhy art thou fixing thine eyes upon the ground and holding thy robe\nbefore them?\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Alas! with which of my woes shall I begin? for I may\ntreat them all as first, or put them last or midway anywhere.\nAGAMEMNON How now? I find you all alike, confusion and alarm in every\neye.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA My husband, answer frankly the questions I ask thee.\nAGAMEMNON There is no necessity to order me; I am willing to be questioned.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Dost thou mean to slay thy child and mine?\nAGAMEMNON (Starting) Ha! these are heartless words, unwarranted\nsuspicions!\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Peace! answer me that question first.\nAGAMEMNON Put a fair question and thou shalt have a fair answer.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA I have no other questions to put; give me no other\nanswers.\nAGAMEMNON O fate revered, O destiny, and fortune mine!\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Aye, and mine and this maid's too; the three share\none bad fortune.\nAGAMEMNON Whom have I injured?\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Dost thou ask me this question? A thought like that\nitself amounts to thoughtlessness.\nAGAMEMNON Ruined! my secret out!\nCLYTAEMNESTRA I know all; I have heard what thou art bent on doing\nto me. Thy very silence and those frequent groans are a confession;\ntire not thyself by telling it.\nAGAMEMNON Lo! I am silent; for, if I tell thee a falsehood, needs\nmust I add effrontery to misfortune.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Well, listen; for I will now unfold my meaning and\nno longer employ dark riddles. In the first place-to reproach thee\nfirst with this-it was not of my own free will but by force that thou\ndidst take and wed me, after slaying Tantalus, my former husband,\nand dashing my babe on the ground alive, when thou hadst torn him\nfrom my breast with brutal violence. Then, when those two sons of\nZeus, who were likewise my brothers, came flashing on horseback to\nwar with thee, Tyndareus, my aged sire, rescued thee because of thy\nsuppliant prayers, and thou in turn hadst me to wife. Once reconciled\nto thee upon this footing, thou wilt bear me witness I have been a\nblameless wife to thee and thy family, chaste in love, an honour to\nthy house, that so thy coming in might be with joy and thy going out\nwith gladness. And 'tis seldom a man secures a wife like this, though\nthe getting of a worthless woman is no rarity.\nBesides three daughters, of one of whom thou art heartlessly depriving\nme, I am the mother of this son of thine. If anyone asks thee thy\nreason for slaying her, tell me, what wilt thou say? or must say it\nfor thee? \"It is that Menelaus may recover Helen.\" An honourable exchange,\nindeed, to pay a wicked woman's price in children's lives! 'Tis buying\nwhat we most detest with what we hold most dear. Again, if thou go\nforth with the host, leaving me in thy halls, and art long absent\nat Troy, what will my feelings be at home, dost think? when I behold\neach vacant chair and her chamber now deserted, and then sit down\nalone in tears, making ceaseless lamentation for her, \"Ah! my child,\nhe that begat thee hath slain thee himself, he and no one else, nor\nwas it by another's hand...to thy home, after leaving such a price\nto be paid; for it needs now but a trifling pretext for me and the\ndaughters remaining to give thee the reception it is right thou shouldst\nreceive. I adjure thee by the gods, compel me not to sin against thee,\nnor sin thyself. Go to; suppose thou sacrifice the child; what prayer\nwilt thou utter, when 'tis done? what will the blessing be that thou\nwilt invoke upon thyself as thou art slaying our daughter? an ill\nreturning maybe, seeing the disgrace that speeds thy going forth.\nIs it right that I should pray for any luck to attend thee? Surely\nwe should deem the gods devoid of sense, if we harboured a kindly\nfeeling towards murderers. Shalt thou embrace thy children on thy\ncoming back to Argos? Nay, thou hast no right. Will any child of thing\ne'er face thee, if thou have surrendered one of them to death? Has\nthis ever entered into thy calculations, or does thy one duty consist\nin carrying a sceptre about and marching at the head of an army? when\nthou mightest have made this fair proposal among the Argives; \"Is\nit your wish, Achaeans, to sail for Phrygia's shores? Why then, cast\nlots whose daughter has to die.\" For that would have been a fair course\nfor thee to pursue, instead of picking out thy own child for the victim\nand presenting her to the Danai; or Menelaus, inasmuch as it was his\nconcern, should have slain Hermione for her mother. As it is, I, who\nstill am true to thee, must lose my child; while she, who went astray,\nwill return with her daughter, and live in happiness at Sparta. If\nI am wrong in aught herein, answer me; but if my words have been fairly\nurged, do not still slay thy child, who is mine too, and thou wilt\nbe wise.\nCHORUS Hearken to her Agamemnon, for to join in saving thy children's\nlives is surely a noble deed; none would gainsay this.\nIPHIGENIA Had I the eloquence of Orpheus, my father, to move the\nrocks by chanted spells to follow me, or to charm by speaking whom\nI would, I had resorted to it. But as it is, I'll bring my tears-the\nonly art I know; for that I might attempt. And about thy knees, in\nsuppliant wise, I twine my limbs these limbs thy wife here bore. Destroy\nme not before my time, for sweet is to look upon the light, and force\nme not to visit scenes below. I was the first to call thee father,\nthou the first to call me child; the first was I to sit upon thy knee\nand give and take the fond caress. And this was what thou then wouldst\nsay, \"Shall I see thee, my child, living a happy prosperous life in\na husband's home one day, in a manner worthy of myself?\" And I in\nmy turn would ask, as I hung about thy beard, whereto I now am clinging,\n\"How shall I see thee? Shall I be giving thee a glad reception in\nmy halls, father, in thy old age, repaying all thy anxious care in\nrearing me?\nI remember all we said, 'tis thou who hast forgotten and now wouldst\ntake my life. By Pelops, I entreat thee spare me, by thy father Atreus\nand my mother here, who suffers now a second time the pangs she felt\nbefore when bearing me! What have I to do with the marriage of Paris\nand Helen? why is his coming to prove my ruin, father? Look upon me;\none glance, one kiss bestow, that this at least I may carry to my\ndeath as a memorial of thee, though thou heed not my pleading. (Holding\nup the babe to ORESTES) Feeble ally though thou art, brother, to\nthy loved ones, yet add thy tears to mine and entreat our father for\nthy sister's life; even in babes there is a natural sense of ill.\nO father, see this speechless supplication made to thee; pity me;\nhave mercy on my tender years! Yea, by thy beard we two fond hearts\nimplore thy pity, the one a babe, a full-grown maid the other. By\nsumming all my pleas in one, I will prevail in what I say. To gaze\nupon yon light is man's most cherished gift; that life below is nothingness,\nand whoso longs for death is mad. Better live a life of woe than die\na death of glory!\nCHORUS Ah, wretched Helen! Awful the struggle that has come to the\nsons of Atreus and their children, thanks to thee and those marriages\nof thine.\nAGAMEMNON While loving my own children, I yet understand what should\nmove my pity and what should not; I were a madman else. 'Tis terrible\nfor me to bring myself to this, nor less terrible is it to refuse,\ndaughter; for I must fare the same. Ye see the vastness of von naval\nhost, and the numbers of bronze clad warriors from Hellas, who can\nneither make their way to Ilium's towers nor raze the far-famed citadel\nof Troy, unless I offer thee according to the word of Calchas the\nseer. Some mad desire possesses the host of Hellas to sail forthwith\nto the land of the barbarians, and put a stop to the rape of wives\nfrom Hellas, and they will slay my daughters in Argos as well as you\nand me, if I disregard the goddess's behests. It is not Menelaus who\nhath enslaved me to him, child, nor have I followed wish of his; nay,\n'tis Hellas, for whom I must sacrifice thee whether I will or no;\nto this necessity I bow my head; for her freedom must be preserved,\nas far as any help of thine, daughter, or mine can go; nor must they,\nwho are the sons Hellas, be pillaged of their wives by barbarian robbery.\nAGAMEMNON rushes from the stage,\nCLYTAEMNESTRA My child Ye stranger ladies!\nWoe is me for this thy death! Thy father flies, surrendering thee\nto Hades.\nIPHIGENIA Woe is me, O mother mine! for the same strain hath fallen\nto both of us in our fortune. No more for me the light of day! no\nmore the beams of yonder sun! Woe for that snow-beat glen in Phrygia\nand the hills of Ida, where Priam once exposed a tender babe, torn\nfrom his mother's arms to meet a deadly doom, e'en Paris, called the\nchild of Ida in the Phrygians' town. Would Priam ne'er had settled\nhim, the herdsman reared amid the herds, beside that water crystal-clear,\nwhere are fountains of the Nymphs and their meadow rich with blooming\nflowers, where hyacinths and rose-buds blow for goddesses to gather!\nHither one day came Pallas and Cypris of the subtle heart, Hera too\nand Hermes messenger of Zeus-Cypris, proud of the longing she causes;\nPallas of her prowess; and Hera of her royal marriage with king Zeus-to\ndecide a hateful strife about their beauty; but it is my death, maidens-fraught,\n'tis true, with glory to the Danai-that Artemis has received as an\noffering, before they begin the voyage to Ilium.\nO mother, mother! he that begat me to this life of sorrow has gone\nand left me all alone. Ah! woe is me! a bitter, bitter sight for me\nwas Helen, evil Helen! to me now doomed to bleed and die, slaughtered\nby an impious sire.\nI would this Aulis had never received in its havens here the sterns\nof their bronze-beaked ships, the fleet which was speeding them to\nTroy; and would that Zeus had never breathed on the Euripus a wind\nto stop the expedition, tempering, as he doth, a different breeze\nto different men, so that some have joy in setting sail, and sorrow\nsome, and others hard constraint, to make some start and others stay\nand others furl their sails! Full of trouble then, it seems, is the\nrace of mortals, full of trouble verily; and 'tis ever Fate's decree\nthat man should find distress.\nWoe! woe to thee, thou child of Tyndareus, for the suffering and anguish\nsore, which thou art causing the Danai!\nCHORUS I pity thee for thy cruel fate-a fate I would thou ne'er hadst\nmet!\nIPHIGENIA O mother that bare me! I see a throng of men approaching.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA It is the goddess-born thou seest, child, for whom\nthou camest hither.\nIPHIGENIA (Calling into the tent) Open the tent-door to me, servants,\nthat I may hide myself.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Why seek to fly, my child?\nIPHIGENIA I am ashamed to face Achilles.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Wherefore?\nIPHIGENIA The luckless ending to our marriage causes me to feel abashed.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA No time for affectation now in face of what has chanced.\nStay then; reserve will do no good, if only we can- (Enter ACHILLES.)\nACHILLES Daughter of Leda, lady of sorrows!\nCLYTAEMNESTRA No misnomer that.\nACHILLES A fearful cry is heard among the Argives.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA What is it? tell me.\nACHILLES It concerns thy child.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA An evil omen for thy words.\nACHILLES They say her sacrifice is necessary.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA And is there no one to say a word against them?\nACHILLES Indeed I was in some danger myself from the tumult.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA In danger of what? kind sir.\nACHILLES Of being stoned.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Surely not for trying to save my daughter?\nACHILLES The very reason.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Who would have dared to lay a finger on thee?\nACHILLES The men of Hellas, one and all.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Were not thy Myrmidon warriors at thy side?\nACHILLES They were the first who turned against me.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA My child! we are lost, undone, it seems.\nACHILLES They taunted me as the man whom marriage had enslaved.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA And what didst thou answer them?\nACHILLES I craved the life of her I meant to wed-\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Justly so.\nACHILLES The wife her father promised me.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Aye, and sent to fetch from Argos.\nACHILLES But I was overcome by clamorous cries.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Truly the mob is a dire mischief.\nACHILLES But I will help thee for all that.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Wilt thou really fight them single-handed?\nACHILLES Dost see these warriors here, carrying my arms?\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Bless thee for thy kind intent!\nACHILLES Well, I shall be blessed.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Then my child will not be slaughtered now?\nACHILLES No, not with my consent at any rate.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA But will any of them come to lay hands on the maid?\nACHILLES Thousands of them, with Odysseus at their head.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA The son of Sisyphus?\nACHILLES The very same.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Acting for himself or by the army's order?\nACHILLES By their choice-and his own.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA An evil choice indeed, to stain his hands in blood!\nACHILLES But I will hold him back.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Will he seize and bear her hence against her will?\nACHILLES Aye, by her golden hair no doubt.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA What must I do, when it comes to that?\nACHILLES Keep hold of thy daughter.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Be sure that she shall not be slain, as far as that\ncan help her.\nACHILLES Believe me, it will come to this.\nIPHIGENIA Mother, hear me while I speak, for I see that thou art\nwroth with thy husband to no purpose; 'tis hard for us to persist\nin impossibilities. Our thanks are due to this stranger for his ready\nhelp; but thou must also see to it that he is not reproached by the\narmy, leaving us no better off and himself involved in trouble. Listen,\nmother; hear what thoughts have passed across my mind. I am resolved\nto die; and this I fain would do with honour, dismissing from me what\nis mean. Towards this now, mother, turn thy thoughts, and with me\nweigh how well I speak; to me the whole of mighty Hellas looks; on\nme the passage o'er the sea depends; on me the sack of Troy; and in\nmy power it lies to check henceforth barbarian raids on happy Hellas,\nif ever in the days to come they seek to seize her daughters, when\nonce they have atoned by death for the violation of Helen's marriage\nby Paris. All this deliverance will my death insure, and my fame for\nsetting Hellas free will be a happy one. Besides, I have no right\nat all to cling too fondly to my life; for thou didst not bear me\nfor myself alone, but as a public blessing to all Hellas. What! shall\ncountless warriors, armed with shields, those myriads sitting at the\noar, find courage to attack the foe and die for Hellas, because their\nfatherland is wronged, and my one life prevent all this? What kind\nof justice is that? could I find a word in answer? Now turn we to\nthat other point. It is not right that this man should enter the lists\nwith all Argos or be slain fox a woman's sake. Better a single man\nshould see the light than ten thousand women. If Artemis is minded\nto take this body, am I, a weak mortal, to thwart the goddess? Nay,\nthat were impossible. To Hellas I resign it; offer this sacrifice\nand make an utter end of Troy. This is my enduring monument; marriage,\nmotherhood, and fame-all these is it to me. And it is but right, mother,\nthat Hellenes should rule barbarians, but not barbarians Hellenes,\nthose being slaves, while these are free.\nCHORUS Thou playest a noble part, maiden; but sickly are the whims\nof Fate and the goddess.\nACHILLES Daughter of Agamemnon I some god was bent on blessing me,\ncould I but have won thee for my wife. In thee I reckon Hellas happy,\nand thee in Hellas; for this that thou hast said is good and worthy\nof thy fatherland; since thou, abandoning a strife with heavenly powers,\nwhich are too strong for thee, has fairly weighed advantages and needs.\nBut now that I have looked into thy noble nature, I feel still more\na fond desire to win thee for my bride. Look to it; for I would fain\nserve thee and receive thee in my halls; and witness Thetis, how I\ngrieve to think I shall not save thy life by doing battle with the\nDanai. Reflect, I say; a dreadful ill is death.\nIPHIGENIA This I say, without regard to anyone. Enough that the daughter\nof Tyndareus is causing wars and bloodshed by her beauty; then be\nnot slain thyself, sir stranger, nor seek to slay another on my account;\nbut let me, if I can, save Hellas.\nACHILLES Heroic spirit! I can say no more to this, since thou art\nso minded; for thine is a noble resolve; why should not one avow the\ntruth? Yet will I speak, for thou wilt haply change thy mind; that\nthou mayst know then what my offer is, I will go and place these arms\nof mine near the altar, resolved not to permit thy death but to prevent\nit; for brave as thou art, at sight of the knife held at thy throat,\nthou wilt soon avail thyself of what I said. So I will not let thee\nperish through any thoughtlessness of thine, but will go to the temple\nof the goddess with these arms and await thy arrival there. (Exit\nACHILLES.)\nIPHIGENIA Mother, why so silent, thine eyes wet with tears?\nCLYTAEMNESTRA I have reason, woe is me! to be sad at heart.\nIPHIGENIA Forbear; make me not a coward; here in one thing obey me.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Say what it is, my child, for at my hands thou shalt\nne'er suffer injury.\nIPHIGENIA Cut not off the tresses of thy hair for me, nor clothe\nthyself in sable garb.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Why, my child, What is it thou hast said? Shall I,\nwhen I lose thee-\nIPHIGENIA \"Lose\" me, thou dost not; I am saved and thou renowned,\nas far as I can make thee.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA How so? Must I not mourn thy death?\nIPHIGENIA By no means, for I shall have no tomb heaped o'er me.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA What, is not the act of dying held to imply burial?\nIPHIGENIA The altar of the goddess, Zeus's daughter, will be my tomb.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Well, my child, I will let thee persuade me, for thou\nsayest well.\nIPHIGENIA Aye, as one who prospereth and doeth Hellas service.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA What message shall I carry to thy sisters?\nIPHIGENIA Put not mourning raiment on them either.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA But is there no fond message I can give the maidens\nfrom thee?\nIPHIGENIA Yes, my farewell words; and promise me to rear this babe\nOrestes to manhood.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Press him to thy bosom; 'tis thy last look.\nIPHIGENIA O thou that art most dear to me! thou hast helped thy friends\nas thou hadst means.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Is there anything I can do to pleasure thee in Argos?\nIPHIGENIA Yes, hate not my father, thy own husband.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Fearful are the trials through which he has to go because\nof thee.\nIPHIGENIA It was against his will he ruined me for the sake of Hellas.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Ah! but be employed base treachery, unworthy of Atreus.\nIPHIGENIA Who will escort me hence, before my hair is torn?\nCLYTAEMNESTRA I will go with thee.\nIPHIGENIA No, not thou; thou say'st not well.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA I will, clinging to thy robes.\nIPHIGENIA Be persuaded by me, mother, stay here; for this is the\nbetter way alike for me and thee; but let one of these attendants\nof my father conduct me to the meadow of Artemis, where I shall be\nsacrificed.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Art gone from me, my child?\nIPHIGENIA Aye, and with no chance of ever returning.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Leaving thy mother?\nIPHIGENIA Yes, as thou seest, undeservedly.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Hold! leave me not!\nIPHIGENIA I cannot let thee shed a tear. (Exit CLYTAEMNESTRA. To\nthe CHORUS) Be it yours, maidens, to hymn in joyous strains Artemis,\nthe child of Zeus, for my hard lot; and let the order for a solemn\nhush go forth to the Danai. Begin the sacrifice with the baskets,\nlet the fire blaze for the purifying meal of sprinkling, and my father\npace from left to right about the altar; for I come to bestow on Hellas\nsafety crowned with victory. Lead me hence, me the destroyer of Ilium's\ntown and the Phrygians; give me wreaths to cast about me; bring them\nhither; here are my tresses to crown; bring lustral water too. Dance\nto Artemis, queen Artemis the blest, around her fane and altar; for\nby the blood of my sacrifice I will blot out the oracle, if it needs\nmust be.\nO mother, lady revered! for thee shall my tears be shed, and now;\nfor at the holy rites I may not weep.\nSing with me, maidens, sing the praises of Artemis, whose temple faces\nChalcis, where angry spearmen madly chafe, here in the narrow havens\nof Aulis, because of me.\nO Pelasgia, land of my birth, and Mycenae, my home!\nCHORUS Is it on Perseus' citadel thou callest, that town Cyclopean\nworkmen build\nIPHIGENIA To be a light to Hellas didst thou rear me, and so I say\nnot No to death.\nCHORUS Thou art right; no fear that fame will e'er desert thee!\nIPHIGENIA Hail to thee, bright lamp of day and light of Zeus! A different\nlife, different lot is henceforth mine. Farewell I bid thee, light\nbeloved! (Exit IPHIGENIA.)\nCHORUS Behold the maiden on her way, the destroyer of Ilium's town\nand its Phrygians, with garlands twined about her head, and drops\nof lustral water on her, soon to besprinkle with her gushing blood\nthe altar of a murderous goddess, what time her shapely neck is severed.\nFor thee fair streams of a father's pouring and lustral waters are\nin store, for thee Achaea's host is waiting, eager to reach the citadel\nof Ilium. But let us celebrate Artemis, the daughter of Zeus, queen\namong the gods, as if upon some happy chance.\nO lady revered, delighting in human sacrifice, send on its way to\nPhrygia's land the host of the Hellenes, to Troy's abodes of guile,\nand grant that Agamemnon may wreathe his head with deathless fame,\na crown of fairest glory for the spearmen of Hellas. (Enter MESSENGER.)\nMESSENGER Come forth, O Clytaemnestra, daughter of Tyndareus, from\nthe tent, to hear my news. (Enter CLYTAEMNESTRA.)\nCLYTAEMNESTRA I heard thy voice and am come in sad dismay and fearful\ndread, not sure but what thou hast arrived with tidings of some fresh\ntrouble for me besides the present woe.\nMESSENGER Nay, rather would I unfold to thee a story strange and\nmarvellous about thy child.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Delay not, then, but speak at once.\nMESSENGER Dear mistress, thou shalt learn all clearly; from the outset\nwill I tell it, unless my memory fail me somewhat and confuse my tongue\nin its account. As soon as we reached the grove of Artemis, the child\nof Zeus, and the meadows gay with flowers, where the Achaean troops\nwere gathered, bringing thy daughter with us, forthwith the Argive\nhost began assembling; but when king Agamemnon saw the maiden on her\nway to the grove to be sacrificed, he gave one groan, and, turning\naway his face, let the tears burst from his eyes, as he held his robe\nbefore them. But the maid, standing close by him that begot her, spake\non this wise, \"O my father, here am I to do thy bidding; freely I\noffer this body of mine for my country and all Hellas, that ye may\nlead me to the altar of the goddess and sacrifice me, since this is\nHeaven's ordinance. Good luck be yours for any help that I afford!\nand may ye obtain the victor's gift and come again to the land of\nyour fathers. So then let none of the Argives lay hands on me, for\nI will bravely yield my neck without a word.\"\nShe spake; and each man marvelled, as he heard the maiden's brave,\nunflinching speech. But in the midst up stood Talthybius-for his this\nduty was-and bade the host refrain from word or deed; and Calchas,\nthe seer, drawing a sharp sword from out its scabbard laid it in a\nbasket of beaten gold, crowning the maiden's head the while. Then\nthe son of Peleus, taking the basket and with it lustral water in\nhis hand, ran round the altar of the goddess uttering these words,\n\"O Artemis, thou child of Zeus, slayer of wild beasts, that wheelest\nthy dazzling light amid the gloom, accept this sacrifice, which we,\nthe host of the Achaeans and king Agamemnon with us, offer to thee,\neven pure blood from a beauteous maiden's neck; and grant us safe\nsailing for our ships and the sack of Troy's towers by our spears.\"\nMeantime the sons of Atreus and all the host stood looking on the\nground, while the priest, seizing his knife, offered up a prayer and\nwas closely scanning the maiden's throat to see where he should strike.\n'Twas no slight sorrow filled my heart, as I stood by with bowed head;\nwhen lo! a sudden miracle! Each one of us distinctly heard the sound\nof a blow, but none saw the spot where the maiden vanished. Loudly\nthe priest cried out, and all the host took up the cry at the sight\nof a marvel all unlooked for, due to some god's agency, and passing\nall belief, although 'twas seen; for there upon the ground lay a hind\nof size immense and passing fair to sec, gasping out her life, with\nwhose blood the altar of the goddess was thoroughly bedewed. Whereon\nspake Calchas thus-his joy thou canst imagine-\"Ye captains of this\nleagued Achaean host, do ye see this victim, which the goddess has\nset before her altar, a mountain roaming hind? This is more welcome\nto her by far than the maid, that she may not defile her altar by\nshedding noble blood. Gladly has she accepted it and is granting us\na prosperous voyage for our attack on Ilium. Wherefore take heart,\nsailors, each man of you, and away to your ships, for to-day must\nwe leave the hollow bays of Aulis and cross the Aegean main.\"\nThen, when the sacrifice was wholly burnt to ashes in the blazing\nflame, he offered such prayers as were meet, that the army might win\nreturn; but me Agamemnon sends to tell thee this, and say what Heaven-sent\nluck is his, and how he hath secured undying fame throughout the length\nof Hellas. Now I was there myself and speak as an eye-witness; without\na doubt thy child flew away to the gods. A truce then to thy sorrowing,\nand cease to be wroth with thy husband; for God's ways with man are\nnot what we expect, and those whom he loves, he keepeth safe; yea,\nfor this day hath seen thy daughter dead and brought to life again.\n(Exit MESSENGER.)\nCHORUS What joy to hear these tidings from the messenger! He tells\nthee thy child is living still, among the gods.\nCLYTAEMNESTRA Which of the gods, my child, hath stolen thee? How\nam I to address thee? How can I be sure that this is not an idle tale\ntold to cheer me, to make me cease my piteous lamentation for thee?\nCHORUS Lo! king Agamemnon approaches, to confirm this story for thee.\n(Enter AGAMEMNON.)\nAGAMEMNON Happy may we be counted, lady, as far as concerns our daughter;\nfor she hath fellowship with gods in very sooth. But thou must take\nthis tender babe and start for home, for the host is looking now to\nsail. Fare thee well! 'tis long ere I shall greet thee on my return\nfrom Troy; may it be well with thee!\nCHORUS Son of Atreus, start for Phrygia's land with joy and so return,\nI pray, after taking from Troy her fairest spoils. (Exeunt OMNES.)\nTHE END","title":"Iphigenia At Aulis, By Euripides","type":"page"}