Men of our city, Argive elders here,
I shame not in your presence to avow
My wifely temper; bashful Fear in time
From mortals dieth: not by others taught,
But from myself, the wretched life I'll tell
'Twas mine to lead while this man was at Troy.
First, for a woman severed from her mate,
To sit forlorn at home is grievous woe,
Hearing malignant murmurs manifold.
One courier comes, another in his train
Worse tidings brings to echo through the house;
And as for wounds, had my dear lord received
As many as report kept pouring in,
A net methinks had not been more transpierced.
Or had he died oft as reported then,
A second triple-bodied Geryon,
A threefold cloak of earth he must have donned[1],
Enduring death in every form he wore.
Thus harassed by these ever-rife reports,
Full often from my neck have forceful hands
Seized and untied the beam-suspended noose.
And for this cause our son, pledge of our troth,
Of mine and thine, stands not beside me now,
As stand he should, Orestes. Marvel not,
For him thy trusty spear-guest nourisheth;
Strophius, the Phocian, who hath me forewarned
Of twofold peril, thine 'neath Ilion's wall,
And next lest clamour-fostered Anarchy
Hazard the plot, for 'tis with men inborn
To trample further him already down.
This pretext, trust me, carries no deceit.
But for myself the gushing founts of grief
Are all dried up, no single tear is left;
Sore with late watching are my weary eyes,
Weeping the fiery beacons set for thee
Neglected ever. Often from my dreams
Was I awakened by the tiny hum
Of buzzing gnat, seeing, endured by thee,
More woes than could have filled mine hour of sleep.
These sorrows past, now with a heart unwrung
I hail my husband, watchdog of the fold,
Sure forestay of the ship; of lofty roof
Pillar firm based; Sire's sole-begotten child;
Land beyond hope looming to mariners;
Day after storm most brilliant to behold;
To thirsty wayfarer clear gushing spring.
Sooth, sweet it is to 'scape from harsh constraint;
With such addresses do I honour him.
Let Envy stand aloof! for we have borne
Ere this full many a woe. Now dear my lord
Come from thy car; but on the ground, O King,
Plant not the foot that trampled Ilion.
Maidens, why tarry ye, whose duty 'tis
With carpets to bespread his stepping-floor?
Swift, purple-strew his passage to a home
Unlooked for, e'en as Justice may conduct;
What further she decreeth with the gods,
Thought, not by sleep o'ermastered, shall dispose.
[edit] Role for Clytemnestra II
Though much to suit the times before was said,
It shames me not the opposite to speak:
For, plotting against foes,--our seeming friends,--
How else contrive with Ruin's wily snare,
Too high to overleap, to fence them round?
To me, not mindless of an ancient feud,
Hath come at last this contest;--late indeed.
The deed achieved, here stand I, where I slew.
So was it wrought (and this I'll not deny),
That he could neither 'scape, nor ward his doom;
Around him, like a fish-encircling net,
This garment's deadly splendour did I cast;--
Him twice I smote, and he, with twofold groan,
His limbs relaxed;--then, prostrate where he lay,
Him with third blow I dowered, votive gift
To nether Hades, saviour of the dead.
Thus as he fell he chafed his soul away;
And gurgling forth the swift death-tide of blood,
He smites me with black drops of gory dew,
Not less exultant than, with heaven-sent joy
The corn-sown land, in birth-hour of the ear.
For this great issue, Argive Senators,
Joy ye, if joy ye can, but I exult.
Nay, o'er the slain were off'rings meet,--with right
Here were they poured,--with emphasis of right.
Such goblets having filled with cursed ills
At home,--himself on his return drains off.
Me thou dost doom to exile,--to endure
The people's hate, their curse deep-muttered,--thou,
Who 'gainst this man of yore hadst naught to urge.
He, all unmoved, as though brute life he quenched,
The while his fleecy pastures teem'd with flocks,
His own child slaughtered,--of my travail throes
To me the dearest,--charm for Thracian blasts.
Him shouldst thou not have chased from land and home
Just guerdon for foul deed? Stern judge thou art
When me thou dost arraign;--but, mark my words,
(Nerved as I am to threat on equal terms,)
If with strong hand ye conquer me, then rule;--
But should the god decree the opposite,
Though late, to sober sense shalt thou be schooled
Hail, joyous light of justice-bearing day!
At length I can aver that God's supernal,
Judges of men, look down on earthly woes,
Beholding, in the Erinyes' woven robes,
This man, thus prostrate, welcome sight to me,
The wiles atoning compassed by his sire.
For Atreus, Argos' ruler, this man's father,
Did from the city and his home expel
Thyestes, rival in the sovereignty,--
My father, to be plain, and his own brother.
But coming back, a suppliant of the hearth,
Wretched Thyestes found a lot secure,
Not doomed his natal soil with blood to stain,
Here in his home: but this man's godless sire,
Atreus, with zeal officious more than kind,
Feigning a joyous banquet-day to hold,
Served to my sire, for food, his children's flesh.
Their feet indeed, the members of their hands,--
Seated aloof, in higher places, he hides.
Partaking of the undistinguished parts,
In ignorance, Thyestes eats the food,
Curse-laden, as thou seest, to the race.
Discerning then the impious deed, he shrieked,
And back recoiling the foul slaughter spewed.
Spurning, with righteous curse, th' insulted board
Dread doom he vows to the Pelopidæ;--
"So perish the whole race of Pleisthenes."
Hence is it that ye see this man laid low;
The righteous planner of his death am I.
For me, the thirteenth child, in swathing clothes,
He with my wretched sire, to exile drove.
But, grown to manhood, Justice lead me back,
And I, although aloof, have reached this man,
The threads combining of the fatal plot.
Now for myself 'twere glorious to die,
Seeing this man entrapped in Justice' toils.
[edit] Annotations
- ↑ The figure of Geryon was said to have three bodies, thus the reference to wearing three cloaks
| This is a translation and has a separate copyright status from the original text. The license for the translation applies to this edition only. |
| Original: |
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This work published before January 1, 1923 is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago. |
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| Translation: |
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This work published before January 1, 1923 is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago. |
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