As if the crisis were now determined the dialogue settles down into 'blank verse' again. _Ca.s.sandra ascends from Orchestra to Stage_. She will no longer speak veiled prophecy: it shall flow clear as wave against the sunlight. She begins with the Furies that never quit the house since that primal woe that defiled it--as she describes this the _Chorus_ wonder an alien can know the house's history so well--_Ca.s.sandra_ lets them know of her amour with Apollo, and how she gained the gift of prophecy and then deceived the G.o.d and was doomed to have her prophecies scorned.--Continuing her vision she points to the phantom children, 'their palms filled full with meat of their own flesh,' sitting on the house: in revenge for that deed another crime is this moment about to stain further the polluted dwelling, a brave hero falling at the hands of a coward, and by a plot his monster of a wife has contrived.--The _Chorus_ still perplexed, _Ca.s.sandra_ NAMES Agamemnon, the Chorus essaying vainly to stop the ill-fated utterance.--Then _Ca.s.sandra_ goes on to describe how she herself must be sacrificed with her new lord, a victim to the jealous murderess; bitterly reproaching Apollo, she strips from her the symbols and garb of her prophetic art, which the G.o.d has made so bitter to her, and moves to the 'butcher's block,' foretelling how the Son shall come as his father's avenger and hers.--The _Chorus_ ask, why go to meet your fate instead of escaping? _Ca.s.sandra_ knows Fate is inevitable.--Again and again she shrinks back from the door, 'tainted with the scent of death;' then gazing for the last time on the loved rays of the Sun, and invoking him as witness and avenger, she abandons herself to her doom.

Ah, life of man! when most it prospereth, {1298} It is but limned in outline; and when brought To low estate, then doth the sponge, full soaked, Wipe out the picture with its frequent touch.

[_Pa.s.ses through the Central Door into Palace._]

_The Chorus_ (_in lyrical rhythm_). It is true good fortune can never be fended from the visitation of evil, which no strong palace can bar out.

What will it avail Agamemnon to have taken Troy and come in honor home, if it be really his destiny to pay the penalty of that old deed of bloodguiltiness? {1313}

(_Here a loud cry is heard from within the Palace._)

The Chorus recognize the voice of the King, and fear the deed is accomplished. In extreme excitement the Chorus break up, and each member, one after another, suggests what is to be done; at last they compose their ranks to learn what has actually occurred. {1342}

_Suddenly, by the machinery of the Roller-stage [Eccyclema], the interior of the Palace is moved to the front of the Stage, and discovers Clytaemnestra in blood-stained robes, standing with attendants by the corpses of Agamemnon and Ca.s.sandra, the former lying in a silvered bath covered with a net._

_Clytaemnestra_, in an elaborate speech, glories in her deed. Deceit was necessary in dealing with foes: now standing where she did the deed, she glories in it: glories in the net in which she entangled and rendered him powerless, in the blows, one, two, three, like a libation, which she struck, glories in the gush of death-blood which has bespattered her. A late triumph: he had come home to drain the goblet of curses his old deed had been long heaping up. After an interruption of astonishment from the _Foreman_, she repeats: it is the handiwork of my artist hand. After the _Chorus_ have recovered from their astonishment they (_in a lyrical burst_) denounce her: her confession is the incense on the Victim's head, she shall feel the people's strong hate, and have an exile's doom.--_Clyt._ (_calmly in Blank Verse_): they denounced no such exile against Agamemnon when he sacrificed her daughter, the first of her travail pangs. Besides, are they sure they are the stronger? Perchance, though old, they may yet have to learn.--_Chorus_ (_in a similar lyrical burst_): she is now maddened with the spirit of vengeance, but she will one day find a nemesis, blow for blow. _Clyt._ solemnly (_in Blank Verse_) swears by the deed she has done, and the curse for which she did it, she has no fear of Nemesis, as lone as Aegisthus is her shield.

Meanwhile, there they lie: the wife-wronger and his mistress. {1377}

Then follows an elaborate lyrical scene: the _Chorus_ giving vent to their excitement in _Strophes and Antistrophes irregularly succeeding one another_, _Clytaemnestra_ occasionally joining in. O for death, sudden and without lingering, now that our beloved Protector is gone! Ah!

Helen! one more deed of woe to your account!--_Clyt._ No need to wish for death or upbraid Helen.--_Cho._ (_interrupting_) O dread Power that dost attack this household, working even through women deeds of dread!--_Clyt._ Now thou art right: it is the Evil Genius of the House that feeds in their hearts the l.u.s.t of blood; bringing fresh blood-guilt ere the old is healed.--_Cho._ Yes, there is a Power wrathful to the House; but it must be through Zeus he works; what amongst mortal men is wrought apart from Zeus?

Ah me! Ah me! {1467} My king, my king, how shall I weep for thee?

What shall I speak from heart that truly loves?

And now thou liest there, breathing out thy life, In impious deed of death, In this fell spider's web!

Yes woe is me! woe, woe!

Woe for this couch of thine unhonorable!

Slain by a subtle death With sword two-edged, which her right hand did wield.

_Clyt._ You speak of me as the doer: it was the Avenger of the seed of Atreus who did the deed in the semblance of this dead man's wife.--_Cho._ None will hold thee guiltless of the deed; yet, perchance, thou mayest have had as helper the avenging Fiend of that ancestral time; he presses on this rush of murders of near kin.

Ah me! Ah me!

My king, my king, how shall I weep for thee?

What shall I speak from heart that truly loves?

And now thou liest there, breathing out thy life, In impious deed of death, In this fell spider's web!

Yes woe is me! woe, woe!

Woe for this couch of thine unhonorable!

Slain by a subtle death With sword two-edged, which her right hand did wield.

_Clyt._ This deed brings no dishonor to me: he slew my daughter and his own, wept over with many a tear; now slain in recompense he is gone to h.e.l.l with nothing to boast over.--_Cho._ Whither escape from this House?

No longer drops, but fierce pelting storm of blood shakes it to its bas.e.m.e.nt.--_Cho._ Oh that earth had received me ere I saw this sad sight!

Who will perform funeral rites and chant the dirge? Wilt thou who hast slain dare to mourn him?--_Clyt._ It is no care of thine: we will give him burial; and for mourning--perhaps Iphigenia will greet him kindly by the dark streams below.--_Cho._ Hard it is to judge; the hand of Zeus is in all this; ever throughout this household we see the fixed law, the spoiler still is spoiled. Who will drive out from this royal house this brood of curses dark?--_Clyt._ Thou art right; but here let the demon rest content; suffice it for me that my hand has freed the house from the madness that sets each man's hand against each. [Observe: in this last infatuated confidence and throughout Clytaemnestra's exultation in the deed the dramatist is laying the foundation for the second play of the Trilogy.] {1534}

_Enter Aegisthus by one of the two Inferior doors in front of the scene [representing the inferior parts of the Palace in which he has been concealed since the return of Agamemnon]._

_Aegisthus_ salutes the happy day of vengeance which shows him Agamemnon paying penalty for the deeds of his father: he relates the quarrel between this father Atreus and his own father Thyestes, how when the one brother came as suppliant to the other Atreus spread before him the horrid banquet of his own child's flesh, at the knowledge of which he died. Aegisthus himself had suffered banishment at the hands of Atreus while yet a child, and now has returned full grown to work vengeance on the son of his wronger, to see the long contrived nemesis brought to full conclusion.--_Chorus_ note that he confesses the deed, and he shall not escape the righteous curse a people hurls with stones.--_Aeg._ Know your place: you are oarsmen, we command the ship; prison and fasting are admirable devices for helping old people to keep their tempers within bounds. Defiances are interchanged: the _Chorus_ taunting him that he had to get a woman to do the deed he dared not do himself,--_Aeg._ contemptuously says the working out of the fraud was the proper province of a woman, especially as he was a known foe.--The Chorus threaten vengeance and suggest the name ORESTES as avenger: At this Clytaemnestra starts, _Aegisthus_ enraged gives the signal at which {1626}

_Bodyguard of Aegisthus pour in through both the Inferior doors on either side of the Central door of the Palace, and fill the stage [thus producing one of the Scenic Tableaux of which Aeschylus was fond]. The Chorus, though of course outnumbered, are nothing daunted, as representing the legitimate authority of the State now Agamemnon is dead, and therefore sure to be backed by the City; they make as if to ascend the stage._

Contest in blows between Chorus and Bodyguard of Aegisthus appears inevitable, but Clytaemnestra throws herself between them, urges that enough ill has already been done, and after further defiances, forces Aegisthus away and play abruptly terminates: _the Chorus returning to the Right into the City, and the Bodyguard into the Palace_.

[1] This is a mere guess: we have no information as to how the evolutions of a Proem differed from those of a regular Choral Ode.

[2] The Chorus generally speak of themselves in the Singular.

[3] This is simply an English pun subst.i.tuted for a Greek one: the name Helen resembles a Greek root which signifies captivity.

SECOND PLAY: MIDDAY:

THE SEPULCHRAL RITES

(_CHOEPHORI_)

PROLOGUE

_The Permanent Scene, as before, represents the Palace of Agamemnon at Argos. The only difference is that the place of the Thymele in the centre of the Orchestra is taken up by Agamemnon's Sepulchre. Enter by the Left Side-door (signifying distance) Orestes and Pylades, and descending the Orchestra-staircase advance to the Sepulchre._

_Orestes_, invoking the Conductor of the Dead, lays locks of hair and fragments of garments as offerings on his Father's tomb, cut off as he had been by exile from being present at the actual Funeral-rites:

_He is interrupted by the opening of one of the Inferior Doors of the Palace, out of which comes Electra, and a train of Trojan Captive-maidens bearing urns of libations, all with dishevelled hair and the well-known gestures proper to Sepulchral rites. They descend (with the exception of Electra) the Orchestra-staircase, and perform a Choral Ode with funeral rhythm and gestures. Orestes and Pylades, recognizing them, stand aside._ {19}

SEPULCHRAL ODE AS CHORUS-ENTRY

_in three Strophes, Antistrophes, and an Epode,_

describes in words the tearings of cheeks, rending of garments, and groans, which are actually the gestures of their dance, and are proper to a Sepulchral rite such as they have been sent to perform by their Queen, terrified as she has been by a dream the night before, a dream signifying how the Dead were wroth with those that slew them. But the Chorus like not this graceless deed of grace: what ransom can be found for the overthrow of the lord of a house? with him Awe has been overthrown, and Fear takes its place, or yet more Success is G.o.d. {53}

Yet stroke of Vengeance swift Smites some in life's clear day; For some who tarry long their sorrows wait In twilight dim, on darkness' borderland; And some an endless night Of nothingness holds fast.

Yes: for blood once spilt, for the marriage tie defiled, there is no remedy--yet the Chorus must, as part of their bitter captive lot, perform the rite they have no heart in. {75}

_Through this Ode Electra, who ought to have taken the lead, has stood on the stage irresolute: she now addresses the Chorus, who at her word fall into their Episode positions._

EPISODE I

_Electra_ puts to the Chorus the same difficulty they have been feeling:

What shall I say as these funereal gifts I pour? How shall I speak acceptably?

How to my father pray? What? shall I say "I bring from loving wife to husband loved Gifts"--from my mother? No, I am not bold Enough for that, nor know I what to speak, Pouring this chrism on my father's tomb: Or shall I say this prayer, as men are wont, "Good recompense make thou to those who bring These garlands," yea, a gift full well deserved By deeds of ill? Or, dumb with ignominy Like that with which he perished, shall I pour Libations on the earth, and like a man That flings away the l.u.s.tral filth, shall I Throw down the urn and walk with eyes not turned? {97}

The _Chorus-Leader_ breaking ranks to lay her hand on the Sepulchre as sign of fidelity, advises to throw off all disguise and pray boldly for friend and against foe. Electra in this sense offers the Prayer: setting forth the wrongs of the house and praying for Orestes and Vengeance: then calling on the Chorus for a Sepulchral Song she descends to the tomb. {144}