Electra

TutorSon of Agamemnon, who once commanded the army at Troy, now you can see with your own eyes what you’ve always longed for. Here is the ancient Argos you yearned for, the sacred grove of Inachus’ daughter, whom the gadfly drove mad. And this, Orestes, is the Lycean marketplace of the wolf-killing god; and here on the left is Hera’s famous temple. As for the place we’ve come to, you can say you’re looking at Mycenae, rich in gold, and at this house of the line of Pelops, rich in death. It was from here, after your father was murdered, that I once took you from the hands of your sister, your own blood. I carried you off and saved you and raised you to this age, to avenge your father’s murder.note

OrestesDearest of servants, what clear signs you give me of how good you’ve been to us! A well-bred horse, even when it’s old, doesn’t lose its spirit in danger but pricks up its ears. In just the same way you urge us on and follow among the first yourself. So I’ll explain what we’ve decided. Listen sharply to what I say, and if I miss the mark anywhere, set me right. When I went to the Pythian oracle to learn how I might win justice for my father from the men who murdered him, Phoebus gave me an answer you’ll hear in a moment:note

Meanwhile we’ll go to my father’s tomb, as the god commanded, and honor it first with libations and locks of hair cut from our heads. Then we’ll come back again, carrying in our hands the bronze-sided urn that, as you know, is hidden somewhere in the bushes. That way we can deceive them with our story and bring them the welcome news that my body is gone, already burned and turned to ash. Why should it hurt me to die in word if in deed I survive and win glory? In my view, no word that brings profit is bad.

ElectraOh! Oh, how wretched I am!

TutorWait—I thought I heard one of the servant women inside the door, moaning, son.

OrestesCould that be unhappy Electra? Do you want us to stay here and listen to her wailing?

TutorCertainly not. Let’s not try to do anything before we’ve carried out Loxias’ orders. We start with those, pouring offerings for your father. That’s what will bring us victory and mastery in what we do.note

But no, I will not
stop my laments and my hateful wailing
as long as I look on the stars’ bright flashing
and look on this daylight;
like a nightingale who killed her young
I will cry out my wailing
here before my father’s doors for all to hear.
House of Hades and Persephone,
Hermes of the world below, and holy Curse,
and you, revered Furies, children of the gods,
who watch those who die unjustly,
who watch those whose marriage beds are stolen,
come, help me, avenge
our father’s murder,
and send my brother to me.
Alone I no longer have the strength
to bear the weight of grief that pulls against me.note

ChorusChild, Electra, child
of a most wretched mother, why do you always
waste away like this in endless lament
for Agamemnon, caught long ago
in the godless snares of your treacherous mother,
betrayed by a vile hand?
May whoever did this perish,
if it is right for me to say so.

ElectraDaughters of noble fathers,
you’ve come to comfort me in my troubles.
I know, I understand all this, nothing escapes me;
but I won’t give this up,
I won’t stop mourning my unhappy father.
You who repay me with friendship of every kind,
let me wander in my grief like this—/ ah, ah, I beg you.

ChorusBut you will never raise your father
from the marsh of Hades that receives us all,
not with wailing, not with prayers.
Leaving moderation behind for grief past all remedy,
forever lamenting, you are destroying yourself,
in troubles from which there is no release.
Why do you long for what is so hard to bear?

ElectraFoolish is the one who forgets
parents who died pitiably.
No, my heart is one with the grieving bird
who cries for Itys, always Itys,
the frantic bird, Zeus’ messenger.
Oh, all-suffering Niobe, I count you a goddess,
you who in your tomb of stone
weep forever.note

ChorusNot to you alone, child,
of all mortals has grief come,
that you should go so far beyond those indoors,
your kin from the same father, of the same blood:
see how Chrysothemis lives, and Iphianassa,
and he who grieves through a youth spent in hiding,
and yet is blessed—he whom the famous
land of Mycenae will one day
welcome, nobly born,
when he comes to this land with Zeus’ kindly guidance: Orestes.note

ElectraYes, him I wait for tirelessly,
childless, miserable, unmarried, I go on and on,
soaked in tears,
bearing my endless doom of troubles.
But he forgets
what he suffered and what he learned.
What message ever reaches me
that isn’t proved false?
He is always longing to come,
but longing, he doesn’t see fit to appear.

ChorusTake heart, child, take heart.
Zeus is still great in heaven,
who watches over all things and rules them.
Leave to him your anger that grieves too much;
don’t rage too far against those you hate, and don’t forget them.
Time is a god who makes things easy.
For the son of Agamemnon,
who lives by Crisa’s shore where the cattle graze,
is not heedless,
nor is the god who reigns beside Acheron.note

ElectraBut most of my life has already gone by
without hope, and I can’t hold out any longer.
I waste away without children,
with no man who loves me to stand by me;
like some lowly foreigner
I serve in my father’s rooms,
dressed in shabby clothes like these,
and I stand by tables that are bare.

ChorusPitiful was the cry at his homecoming,
pitiful on your father’s couch,
when the blow of the axe’s bronze jaws
was launched straight at him.
Deceit planned it, desire killed him;
together they dreadfully bred
a dreadful shape, whether it was a god
or a mortal who did this.

ElectraThat day, more hateful to me
than any day that ever came!
That night, the monstrous horror
of that unspeakable feast,
when my father saw shameful death
from two hands,
the hands that seized my life and betrayed it,
the hands that destroyed me!
May the great god of Olympus
give them sufferings in retribution,
and may they never enjoy their splendor
after doing such deeds.

ChorusTake care not to say any more.
Don’t you understand how, from where you stand now,
you are falling into ruin of your own making,
so miserably?
You have piled up far more trouble for yourself,
forever breeding wars
in your sullen soul. But with those in power
there’s no picking a fight.

ElectraTerrible things forced me to it, terrible things.
I know it, my anger doesn’t escape me.
But even among terrible things I won’t hold back
this ruin of mine
as long as life is in me.
Dear friends, from whom could I ever
hear a fitting word,
from whom with any sense of what is right?
Let me be, let me be, you who would comfort me.
These troubles will be called past all release,
and I will never rest from my sorrows
or my laments without number.

ChorusStill, I speak out of kindness,
like a mother you can trust:
don’t breed ruin upon ruin.

ElectraAnd what limit can there be to misery? Tell me,
how can it be right to neglect the dead?
In what human being was that ever born?
May I never be honored by such people,
and if I have any blessing,
may I never live with it at ease,
clipping the wings
of my shrill wailing
and so dishonoring my father.
For if the dead man, earth and nothing,
is to lie there in his misery,
and they don’t pay in turn
the justice of death for death,
then shame is gone,
and all reverence among mortals.

ChorusChild, I came here out of concern for you and for myself as well. If what I say isn’t right, have it your way; we’ll follow you.

ElectraWomen, I’m ashamed if you think I take things too hard with all my laments. But I’m forced to do this; forgive me. How could any woman of noble birth not do what I’m doing, when she sees the sufferings of her father’s house? And I see them day and night, always growing rather than fading. First of all, things between me and my mother, the woman who gave birth to me, have turned into the bitterest hatred. Then I live in my own house with my father’s murderers. They rule me, and it’s up to them whether I get anything or go without.

And I see it, and in my misery I weep in the house, and waste away, and wail over the wretched feast named after my father—alone, to myself. I’m not even allowed to cry as much as my heart would like. For this woman, so noble in her talk, shouts abuse at me like this: “You godforsaken, hateful thing, are you the only one whose father has died? Is no one else in the world in mourning? May you die a miserable death, and may the gods below never free you from the wailing you’re doing now!”

ChorusTell me, is Aegisthus nearby while you’re saying this to us, or has he left the house?

ElectraHe’s gone, of course. Don’t imagine I’d be wandering outside if he were near. As it is, he happens to be out in the country.

ChorusThen could I talk with you more freely, if that’s how things are?

ElectraHe’s away now, so ask. What would you like to know?

ChorusAll right, I’m asking. What do you say about your brother—is he coming, or putting it off? I want to know.

ElectraHe says he is. But for all his saying, he does nothing he says.

ChorusA man undertaking something great tends to hold back.

ElectraWell, I didn’t hold back when I saved him.

ChorusTake heart. He’s noble by nature; he’ll stand by his own.

ElectraI believe it. Otherwise I wouldn’t have lived this long.

ChorusSay nothing more now. I see your sister coming out of the house, born of the same father and the same mother—Chrysothemis—carrying grave offerings in her hands, the kind that are customary for the dead below.

ChrysothemisWhat’s this you’re saying now, sister, coming out here to the doorway to say it? Even after all this time, won’t you learn not to indulge your useless anger in empty gestures? Look, I know this much about myself too: I’m pained by the way things are, so much that if I had the strength, I’d show them what I think of them. But as it is, I think it’s best in hard times to sail with lowered sails, and not to look as if I’m doing something when I can do no real harm. I want you to do the same. And yet justice lies not where I say, but where you judge. Still, if I’m to live free, I have to obey those in power in everything.

ElectraIt’s shocking that you, the daughter of the father you were born to, should forget him and care for your mother. All these lectures you give me were taught you by her; you say nothing of your own. So choose one or the other: either you have no sense, or, having sense, you’ve forgotten your own flesh and blood. You just said that if you had the strength, you’d show how you hate them. Yet when I do everything to avenge our father, you don’t help, and you try to turn me aside from doing it.

ChorusNo anger, for the gods’ sake! There’s something to be gained from what both of you say, if you would learn to take her advice, and she in turn yours.

ChrysothemisWomen, I’m more or less used to her speeches. I wouldn’t even have brought it up if I hadn’t heard that a very great evil is coming her way, one that will put a stop to her long laments.

ElectraGo on, then, tell me this dreadful thing. If you can tell me of something worse than what I have now, I won’t argue any more.

ChrysothemisWell, I’ll tell you everything I know. If you don’t stop these laments, they intend to send you somewhere you’ll never see the light of the sun again. You’ll live in a chamber roofed over beneath the earth, outside this land, singing of your troubles. So think it over, and don’t blame me later when you’ve suffered for it. Now is the time to show some sense.

ElectraSo they’ve really decided to do this to me?

ChrysothemisYes—as soon as Aegisthus comes home.

ElectraThen as far as that goes, let him come soon!

ChrysothemisWhat are you praying for, you poor thing?

ElectraThat he should come, if he means to do any of this.

ChrysothemisSo that you can suffer what? Have you lost your wits?

ElectraSo that I can get as far away from all of you as possible.

ChrysothemisHave you no thought for the life you have now?

ElectraOh yes, my life is so fine, it’s a marvel.

ChrysothemisIt would be, if you knew how to be sensible.

ElectraDon’t teach me to betray my own.

ChrysothemisI’m not teaching you that. I’m teaching you to give way to those in power.

ElectraYou fawn on them, then. What you describe isn’t my way.

ChrysothemisStill, it’s a fine thing not to fall through foolishness.

ElectraIf I must fall, I’ll fall avenging my father.

ChrysothemisBut Father, I know, will forgive us for all this.

ElectraThat’s the kind of talk cowards applaud.

ChrysothemisWon’t you be persuaded, then, and agree with me?

ElectraCertainly not. May I never be that empty of sense.

ChrysothemisThen I’ll go on my way, where I was sent.

ElectraWhere are you going? Who are these burnt offerings for?

ChrysothemisMother is sending me to pour libations on Father’s tomb.

ElectraWhat did you say? To the man she hated most in the world?

ChrysothemisThe man she killed with her own hands—that’s what you want to say.

ElectraWhich of her friends talked her into this? Whose idea was it?

ChrysothemisSome terror in the night, I think.

ElectraGods of our fathers, stand with us—now, at last!

ChrysothemisDoes her fear give you some hope?

ElectraTell me the dream, and then I could say.

ChrysothemisI don’t know enough to tell you more than a little.

ElectraTell me that little, then. Small words have often brought people down before now, and set them up again.

ChrysothemisThe story is that she saw our father—yours and mine—keeping company with her a second time, come back into the light. Then he took the scepter he once carried himself, and Aegisthus carries now, and planted it at the hearth. And from it sprang up a flourishing branch that cast its shade over the whole land of Mycenae. That’s what I heard from someone who was there when she told her dream to the Sun. More than that I don’t know, except that she’s sending me because of this fear. So I beg you, by the gods of our family, listen to me, and don’t fall through foolishness. If you push me away now, you’ll come looking for me again when you’re in trouble.

ElectraNo, my dear—don’t put any of what you’re holding on the tomb. It isn’t lawful, it isn’t right in the gods’ eyes, for you to set up offerings from a hateful woman or bring libations to our father. Throw them to the winds, or bury them deep in the dust, where none of it will ever come near our father’s resting place. Let them be kept safe below for her, as treasures, for when she dies.

ChorusThe girl speaks with reverence. And you, my dear, if you have any sense, will do it.

ChrysothemisI will. When something is right, there’s no reason for two people to argue over it; one should hurry to do it. But while I’m attempting this, my friends, for the gods’ sake, keep silent. If my mother finds out, I think I’ll come to find this venture bitter.

ChorusUnless I am a prophet out of my wits
and wanting in wise judgment,
Justice, who sent this omen ahead,
will come, bearing just power in her hands;
she will come after them, child, before much time has passed.
Courage steals into me
since I heard just now
of these sweet-breathing dreams.
For the lord of the Greeks who fathered you never forgets,
nor does the ancient axe, bronze-beaten, double-edged,
that cut him down in the foulest outrage.

She will come, with many feet and many hands,
she who lies hidden in dreadful ambush,
the bronze-footed Fury.
For a bed that was no bed, a wedding no wedding—
the lust for a blood-defiled marriage—
came upon those who had no right to it.
So I am sure
that never, never will this portent
come to us and spare
those who did the deed and those who helped.
Truly there are no prophecies for mortals
in dreadful dreams or in oracles
if this vision of the night does not come true.

Chariot race of Pelops long ago,
full of toil,
how sorrowful you were
for this land!
For ever since Myrtilus sank to sleep
in the sea,
hurled root and all
from the golden chariot
in wretched outrage,
never yet
has toil-laden outrage
left this house.note

ElectraThis time, at least, you can’t say I started something hurtful and then heard this from you. But if you’ll allow me, I would speak properly on behalf of the dead man, and of my sister too.

ClytemnestraOf course I allow it. If you always began your speeches like this, you wouldn’t be so painful to listen to.

ElectraThen here I go. You say you killed our father. What could be more shameful to say than that, whether it was just or not? But I’ll tell you that you didn’t kill him justly: you were dragged into it by the persuasion of a bad man, the one you live with now. Ask Artemis the huntress what she was punishing when she held back all those winds at Aulis—or I’ll tell you, since it isn’t lawful to learn it from her. My father, as I’ve heard, was once amusing himself in the goddess’s grove, and his footsteps startled a dappled, antlered stag. He shot it, and as he killed it he happened to let fall some boast.note

ChorusI see her breathing rage. But whether justice is on her side—I no longer see her giving any thought to that.

ClytemnestraAnd what thought do I need to give to her, when she has outraged her own mother like this, and at her age? Don’t you think she’d go to any length, without shame?

ElectraYou can be sure I am ashamed of it, even if you don’t think so. I understand that what I do is out of season and unbecoming to me. But your hostility and your deeds force me to it. Shameful things are learned from shameful ones.

ClytemnestraYou shameless creature! So it’s I, my words and my deeds, that make you say far too much?

ElectraYou’re the one saying it, not I. You do the deeds, and deeds find their own words.

ClytemnestraBy our lady Artemis, you won’t escape paying for this insolence once Aegisthus comes.

ElectraYou see? You fly into a rage, after giving me leave to say what I liked. You don’t know how to listen.

ClytemnestraWon’t you let me sacrifice in peace, without your noise, now that I’ve let you say everything?

ElectraI let you, I urge you: sacrifice. Don’t blame my mouth. I won’t say another word.

ClytemnestraYou there, attending me, lift up the offerings of every fruit, so that I may raise my prayers to this lord here, to free me from the fears I have now. Hear now, Phoebus, our protector, my hidden words. I’m not speaking among friends, and it isn’t fitting to unfold everything to the light while she stands near me, or she’ll spread empty rumors through the whole city with her spite and her ready tongue. So hear me this way; this is how I’ll speak.note

TutorLadies, I’m a stranger here. How can I find out for sure whether this is the house of Aegisthus, the king?

ChorusIt is, stranger. You’ve guessed right yourself.

TutorAnd am I right in guessing that this is his wife? She has a royal look.

ChorusQuite right. Here she is.

TutorGreetings, my lady. I’ve come with pleasant news from a friend, for you and for Aegisthus too.

ClytemnestraI welcome the omen of your words. But first of all I want to know who sent you.

TutorPhanoteus the Phocian, on a matter of great importance.

ClytemnestraWhat matter, stranger? Tell me. Coming from a friend, I’m sure you’ll bring friendly words.

TutorOrestes is dead. That’s all of it, in a word.

ElectraOh, no, I’m wretched—this day has destroyed me.

ClytemnestraWhat are you saying, stranger, what? Don’t listen to her.

TutorOrestes is dead—I say it now, as I said it before.

ElectraI’m lost, I’m wretched, I’m nothing anymore.

ClytemnestraYou mind your own business. And you, stranger, tell me the truth: how did he die?

The skilled driver from Athens saw it, pulled out to the side and reined in, letting the surge of horses churning in the middle go by. Orestes was driving last, holding his colts back, trusting to the finish. But when he saw the Athenian was the only one left, he sent a shrill cry ringing through his swift colts’ ears and gave chase. The two of them drove with their teams level, first one, then the other, pushing his head out in front.

ChorusAh, ah. So the whole house of our masters of old has been destroyed, it seems, root and all.

ClytemnestraZeus, what am I to call this? Good fortune? Or terrible, but to my profit? It’s a painful thing, to save my life through my own misfortunes.

TutorWhy are you so downcast at this news, my lady?

ClytemnestraGiving birth is a strange and powerful thing. Even when a mother is badly treated, she can’t come to hate the children she bore.

TutorThen it seems I’ve come for nothing.

ClytemnestraNo, not for nothing. How could you call it for nothing, when you’ve come to me with sure proof of his death? He was born of my own life, yet he broke away from my breast and my care and lived in exile in a foreign land. Once he’d left this country he never saw me again. He accused me of his father’s murder and threatened to do terrible things.

ElectraOh, no, poor me! Now I can truly wail over your fate, Orestes, when even in this state you’re insulted by this mother of yours. Isn’t that fine?

ClytemnestraNot for you. But for him, just as he is, it’s fine.

ElectraHear her, Nemesis of the one who’s just died!note

ClytemnestraShe’s heard what she should, and she’s settled it well.

ElectraGo on, gloat. Fortune happens to be on your side now.

ClytemnestraSo Orestes and you won’t be putting a stop to it, will you?

ElectraWe’re the ones who’ve been stopped—far from stopping you.

ClytemnestraStranger, you’d deserve a rich reward if you’ve put a stop to her endless shouting.

TutorThen I may as well go, if all is well.

ClytemnestraNot at all. That would be treatment unworthy of me, and of the friend who sent you on your way. No, come inside. Leave her out here to shout about her own troubles and her loved ones’.

ElectraDid she look to you like a woman in pain and anguish, the wretch, weeping terribly and wailing over her son who’s died like this? No—she’s gone off laughing. Oh, poor me. Orestes, my dearest, how you’ve destroyed me by dying! You’ve gone, and torn from my heart the only hopes I still had left: that someday you’d come back alive to avenge our father, and me in my misery. Where am I to go now?

ChorusWhere are the thunderbolts of Zeus,
where is the blazing Sun,
if they look on this
and calmly keep it hidden?

ElectraAh, ah! Oh, no!

ChorusChild, why are you weeping?

ElectraAh!

ChorusDon’t cry out anything too bold.

ElectraYou’ll destroy me.

ChorusHow?

ElectraIf you hold out hope
for those who have plainly gone
down to Hades,
you’ll trample all the harder
on me as I waste away.

ChorusI know that lord Amphiaraus
was hidden away by a woman’s
gold-linked snare; and now beneath the earth—note

ElectraAh, ah! Oh!

Chorus—he reigns, his soul alive and whole.

ElectraAh!

ChorusAh, yes. For that deadly woman—

Electra—was struck down.

ChorusYes.

ElectraI know, I know. An avenger came forward
for the one they mourned.
But I have no one left:
the one I still had
is gone, snatched away.

ChorusPoor girl, your lot is cruel.

ElectraI know it, too well I know it,
in a life swept along, month after month,
by a flood of dreadful, hateful things.

ChorusWe have seen what you lament.

ElectraThen don’t try any more
to lead me on, to where no—

ChorusWhat do you mean?

Electra—no comfort is left from hopes
in a nobly born brother of my own blood.

ChorusDeath is the lot of every mortal.

ElectraWhat, and to meet it like that,
like him, poor man, in a race of pounding hooves,
caught in the cut reins dragging him?

ChorusA cruel ruin past all foreseeing.

ElectraOf course it was—if, a stranger far from home,
with no hands of mine to tend him—

ChorusOh, no!

Electra—he lies hidden away,
given no burial
and no wailing from us.

ChrysothemisDearest, I’m so happy I’ve come running here, all decorum forgotten. I bring you joy, and relief from the troubles you had before and groaned over.

ElectraAnd where would you find help for my sorrows, when there’s no cure for them in sight?

ChrysothemisOrestes is here with us—take it from me—as plainly as you see me.

ElectraHave you gone mad, you poor thing? Are you laughing at your own troubles and at mine?

ChrysothemisBy our father’s hearth, I’m not saying it to mock you. I’m telling you he’s here with us.

ElectraOh, poor me. Who told you this story, that you believe it so completely?

ChrysothemisI believe it on my own evidence, no one else’s. I saw clear signs.

ElectraWhat proof have you got, poor thing? What did you see that’s set you burning with this fever no one can cure?

ChrysothemisFor the gods’ sake, listen. Then, once you’ve heard me out, you can call me sensible or foolish.

ElectraWell, go on, if you take any pleasure in talking.

ChrysothemisAll right, I’ll tell you everything I saw. When I came to our father’s ancient tomb, I saw streams of milk freshly poured from the top of the mound, and our father’s resting place ringed all round with every kind of flower there is. I was amazed when I saw it, and I looked around in case someone was close by. When I saw the whole place was quiet, I crept nearer the tomb. And at the edge of the mound I saw a lock of hair, newly cut. The moment I saw it—poor me—a familiar image struck my soul: I was looking at a token of Orestes, dearest of all people on earth.

ElectraAh—how I’ve pitied your foolishness all along!

ChrysothemisWhat’s wrong? Isn’t this something to be glad about?

ElectraYou don’t know where in the world you’re going, or where in your mind.

ChrysothemisHow could I not know what I saw with my own eyes?

ElectraHe’s dead, poor thing. Any rescue you hoped for from him is gone. Don’t look to him.

ChrysothemisOh, no, poor me! Who told you that?

ElectraA man who was right there when he died.

ChrysothemisAnd where is he? I can hardly believe it.

ElectraIn the house—a welcome guest, and far from unwelcome to Mother.

ChrysothemisOh, no, poor me! Then whose were all those offerings at our father’s tomb?

ElectraI’d say most likely someone put them there as memorials to Orestes, now that he’s dead.

ChrysothemisHow unlucky I am! And I came rushing here so happily with my news, not knowing what ruin we were in. And now that I’m here, I find the troubles we had before, and new ones too.

ElectraThat’s how things stand for you. But if you listen to me, you’ll lift the weight of the misery we’re in now.

ChrysothemisWhat, am I going to raise the dead?

ElectraThat’s not what I meant. I’m not such a fool.

ChrysothemisThen what are you asking that I’m able to do?

ElectraTo have the courage to do what I’m going to urge.

ChrysothemisWell, if there’s any good in it, I won’t refuse.

ElectraLook—nothing succeeds without hard work.

ChrysothemisI see. I’ll help with all the strength I have.

ChorusIn matters like these, forethought is an ally to the one who speaks and the one who listens.

ChrysothemisAnd before she said a word, women, if she’d had any sense she’d have held on to caution—which she isn’t doing. What in the world are you looking to, that you arm yourself with such daring and call on me to help you? Don’t you see? You were born a woman, not a man, and your hand is weaker than your enemies’. Their fortune flourishes day by day, while ours is ebbing away and coming to nothing.

ChorusListen to her. There’s no gain people can win that’s better than forethought and a wise mind.

ElectraYou’ve said nothing I didn’t expect. I knew perfectly well you’d throw away what I offered. Well then, I must do this deed with my own hand, alone. I won’t leave it undone.

ChrysothemisAh! I wish you’d had this kind of resolve when our father was being killed. You’d have accomplished everything.

ElectraI had the nature then. It was my mind that was weaker.

ChrysothemisThen try to keep your mind like that for the rest of your life.

ElectraYou’re lecturing me like this because you won’t help.

ChrysothemisYes—whoever tries such things is likely to come to grief.

ElectraI envy your good sense; I hate your cowardice.

ChrysothemisI’ll put up with hearing that—as I will when you praise me.

ElectraWell, that you’ll never get from me.

ChrysothemisThere’s a long time ahead to judge that.

ElectraGo away. There’s no help in you.

ChrysothemisThere is. But there’s no learning in you.

ElectraGo and tell all this to your mother.

ChrysothemisNo—I don’t hate you that much.

ElectraThen at least understand what dishonor you’re leading me into.

ChrysothemisNot dishonor. I’m looking out for you.

ElectraSo I’m supposed to follow your idea of what’s just?

ChrysothemisWhen you’re thinking straight, then you can lead us both.

ElectraIt’s terrible to speak so well and be so wrong.

ChrysothemisYou’ve described exactly the fault you’re wedded to.

ElectraWhat? Don’t you think what I’m saying is just?

ChrysothemisThere are times when even justice does harm.

ElectraI don’t want to live by those laws.

ChrysothemisWell, if you do this, you’ll come round to praising me.

ElectraOh, I’ll do it, and you won’t scare me off.

ChrysothemisDo you really mean it? You won’t think again?

ElectraNothing is more hateful than a bad plan.

ChrysothemisYou don’t seem to take in a word I say.

ElectraI made up my mind long ago, not just now.

ChrysothemisThen I’ll go. You can’t bring yourself to approve of my words, and I can’t approve of your ways.

ElectraGo on in. I’ll never follow you—not even if you want it desperately. It’s sheer folly to chase after empty things.

ChrysothemisWell, if you think you’re being sensible, go on thinking that way. When you’re already deep in trouble, you’ll praise my words.

ChorusWhy, when we see the birds above,
so wise, taking care to feed
those who gave them life
and those from whom they’ve had good,
do we not pay that debt in equal measure?
But by the lightning of Zeus
and Themis enthroned in heaven,
not for long will they go unpunished.
Voice that travels down to mortals under the earth,
cry out for me a pitiful cry
to the house of Atreus below,
carrying joyless news
of disgrace:note

that their house is sick now,
and between their children the strife of two
is no longer softened
in a loving life together.
Betrayed, alone, Electra
is tossed on the storm,
forever mourning her father, poor girl,
like the nightingale who grieves without end,
with no thought for death,
ready to leave the light behind,
if only she can bring down the double Fury.
Who could be born so worthy of her father?note

For no one who is noble
would choose to shame his good name
by living a base life, without a name,
child, my child.
So you too have chosen
a life of endless tears, shared with your own,
taking up arms against what is shameful,
to win two prizes in one word:
to be called wise, and the best of daughters.

May you live as high above your enemies
in power and wealth
as you now live beneath their hand.
For I have found you
walking in no happy fortune,
and yet in the greatest laws
that ever grew among us
winning the highest prize
through your reverence toward Zeus.

OrestesTell me, women: were we given the right directions? Is this the right road to where we want to go?

ChorusWhat are you looking for? What brings you here?

OrestesI’ve been asking for a while now where Aegisthus lives.

ChorusWell, you’ve come to the right place, and whoever directed you can’t be faulted.

OrestesThen which of you would tell the people inside that we’ve come, the two of us together, a visit they’ve been longing for?

ChorusShe will, if the announcement should come from the nearest of kin.

OrestesGo in, then, lady, and let them know that some men from Phocis are looking for Aegisthus—

ElectraOh, no, no. You’re not bringing clear proof of the rumor we heard, are you?

OrestesI don’t know about your rumor. But old Strophius told me to bring news about Orestes.note

ElectraWhat is it, stranger? Fear is creeping over me.

OrestesHe is dead. We’re bringing the little that’s left of him in a small urn, as you can see.

ElectraOh, how wretched I am! So that’s it, plain to see now: the burden there in your hands, it seems.

OrestesIf you weep at all for what has happened to Orestes, know that this vessel holds his body.

ElectraStranger, for the gods’ sake, if this urn really holds him, let me take it in my hands, so that I can weep and mourn with these ashes for myself and for our whole house together.

OrestesBring it to her, whoever she is, and give it to her. She isn’t asking for it as someone who hated him. She must be one of his loved ones, or his own flesh and blood.

Oh, no, no. Pitiful body. Ah, ah. Oh, sent on the most terrible of journeys, oh, no, no, my dearest, how you have destroyed me! Yes, you have destroyed me, my own dear brother. So take me into this house of yours, nothing into nothing, so that I may live with you below for the rest of time. When you were up here, I shared everything equally with you, and now I long to die and not be shut out of your grave. For I don’t see the dead in any pain.

ChorusRemember, Electra, your father was mortal, and Orestes was mortal. So don’t grieve too much. This is a debt all of us have to pay.

OrestesAh, ah. What shall I say? Where can I turn, when I have no words? I can’t control my tongue any longer.

ElectraWhat has hurt you? Why do you say that?

OrestesIs this you, the famous Electra I see?

ElectraIt is, and in a very sorry state.

OrestesOh, no. Then what a wretched misfortune this is.

ElectraSurely, stranger, you’re not grieving like this over me?

OrestesOh, body so shamefully, so godlessly wasted!

ElectraThose ill-omened words are about me, stranger, and no one else.

OrestesAh, the life you’ve had, unmarried and ill-fated—

ElectraWhy ever do you look at me like that, stranger, and groan?

OrestesSo I knew nothing of my own troubles after all.

ElectraWhat did we say that made you see that?

OrestesSeeing you so marked by so many sufferings.

ElectraAnd yet you’re seeing only a few of my troubles.

OrestesHow could there be any more hateful to see than these?

ElectraBecause I live under the same roof as the murderers—

OrestesWhose murderers? What evil are you hinting at?

ElectraMy father’s. And on top of that I’m their slave, by force.

OrestesWho on earth forces you into this?

ElectraShe’s called my mother. She’s nothing like a mother.

OrestesDoing what? Using her hands, or making your life a misery?

ElectraHer hands, and misery, and every kind of cruelty.

OrestesAnd there’s no one here to help you, no one to stop it?

ElectraNo. The one I had, you’ve set before me as ashes.

OrestesPoor girl, how I’ve pitied you, watching you all this while.

ElectraThen you should know you’re the only person who has ever pitied me.

OrestesBecause I’m the only one who has come here suffering the same pain as you.

ElectraYou’re not some relative of ours, come from somewhere?

OrestesI’d tell you, if these women here are on our side.

ElectraThey are on our side. You’ll be speaking to women you can trust.

OrestesLet go of this urn now, so you can learn the whole truth.

ElectraNo, by the gods, don’t do this to me, stranger!

OrestesDo as I say and you’ll never go wrong.

ElectraNo, I beg you by your beard, don’t take away what I love most!

OrestesI won’t let you keep it.

ElectraOh, Orestes, how wretched I am for you, if I’m to be robbed of burying you!

OrestesHush, no words of ill omen. You have no right to mourn.

ElectraHow have I no right to mourn my dead brother?

OrestesIt isn’t proper for you to speak of him like that.

ElectraHave I so little claim on the dead?

OrestesYou have a claim on everyone. But this isn’t yours.

ElectraNot if it’s Orestes’ body I’m holding?

OrestesIt isn’t Orestes’, except as a story has dressed it up.

ElectraThen where is that poor boy’s grave?

ElectraWhat did you say, child?

OrestesNothing I’m saying is a lie.

ElectraHe’s alive, then?

OrestesIf I am.

ElectraYou—you’re him?

OrestesLook at this seal of our father’s, and see for yourself whether I’m telling the truth.note

ElectraOh, dearest light!

OrestesDearest. I agree.

ElectraThat voice—you’ve come?

OrestesNo need to hear it from anyone else now.

ElectraDo I have you in my arms?

OrestesAnd may you always have me from now on.

ElectraMy dearest friends, women of this city, look: here is Orestes, dead by a trick, and now by a trick saved!

ChorusWe see him, child, and at this turn of fortune a tear of joy runs from my eyes.

ElectraOh, son,
son of the man I loved most,
you’ve come at last,
you’ve found, you’ve come, you’ve seen the ones you longed for.

OrestesWe’re here. But keep quiet and wait.

ElectraWhat’s wrong?

OrestesBetter to keep quiet, in case someone inside hears.

ElectraNo, by Artemis, forever untamed,
I’ll never think it worth my fear,
that useless burden indoors,
those women, always there.

OrestesRemember, though, that Ares lives in women too. You know that well enough, I think, from experience.

ElectraOh, oh, oh, oh, oh, no, no!
You have touched our sorrow,
open as a cloudless sky, never to be undone,
never to be forgotten,
the evil that is ours.

OrestesI know all that, child. But when the moment calls for it, that’s when we must remember those deeds.

ElectraEvery moment,
every moment that comes
would be the right one to speak of this, and justly,
for only now, and barely, is my mouth set free.

OrestesI agree. So take care to keep it that way.

ElectraBy doing what?

OrestesWhen it isn’t the moment, don’t choose to talk at length.

ElectraNow that you have appeared,
who could rightly trade
words for silence like this?
For now I have seen you,
beyond words, beyond hope.

OrestesYou saw me when the gods urged me to come …

ElectraYou speak of a joy
greater still than the one before,
if a god has brought you
to our house:
I count it the work of heaven.

OrestesOn the one hand I hate to hold back your joy. On the other I’m afraid you’re being carried away by pleasure.

ElectraOh, you who after so long
have chosen the dearest road
and come to me like this,
now that you see me so full of suffering, do not—

OrestesDo not what?

Electra—do not rob me,
do not make me let go
of the joy of your face.

OrestesI’d be very angry if I saw anyone else try.

ElectraYou agree?

OrestesOf course.

ElectraMy friends, I heard a voice
I would never have hoped to hear.
Hearing it, I could not have held back what I felt,
without a word, without a cry,
miserable as I am. But now I have you.
You have come to me
with the face I love most,
the face I could never forget, even in my sorrows.

OrestesLeave out the words we don’t need. Don’t tell me how cruel our mother is, or how Aegisthus is draining our father’s wealth from the house, ladling some out, pouring some away, scattering the rest for nothing. Talking would cost you the moment we have. Tell me what fits the present moment: where we should show ourselves or hide on this mission of ours, to stop our enemies’ laughter. And see to it that our mother doesn’t read it in your beaming face when the two of us go into the house. Groan, as if over the ruin that was falsely reported. When we’ve succeeded, then there’ll be time to rejoice and laugh freely.

ElectraBrother, whatever pleases you will please me too. The joys I have, I got from you; they aren’t my own. I wouldn’t accept a great gain for myself if it meant hurting you even a little. That would be a poor way to serve the power that is with us now. You know how things stand here, of course: you’ve heard that Aegisthus isn’t at home, but our mother is in the house. Don’t ever fear that she’ll see my face lit up with a smile.

OrestesQuiet, I tell you. I hear someone inside coming out.

ElectraGo in, strangers, all the more since what you bring is something no one would turn away from the house, and no one would be glad to receive.

TutorYou utter fools, out of your wits! Don’t you care about your lives any more? Or were you born without any sense, that you don’t see you’re not on the edge of the worst danger but right in the middle of it? If I hadn’t been standing guard at this door all this time, your plans would have been inside the house before your bodies. As it is, I’ve taken care to prevent that. Now have done with long speeches and these endless shouts of joy, and go inside. In things like this, delay is dangerous; the moment has come to get it over with.

OrestesSo how do things stand for me when I go in?

TutorWell. You have this in your favor: nobody will know you.

OrestesYou’ve reported me dead, it seems.

TutorHere, believe me, you’re one of the dead in Hades.

OrestesAre they glad of it, then? What are they saying?

TutorI’ll tell you when it’s over. As things stand, all is well with them, even what isn’t well.

ElectraWho is this, brother? For the gods’ sake, tell me.

OrestesDon’t you understand?

ElectraI can’t even guess.

OrestesDon’t you know whose hands you once put me into?

ElectraWhose? What are you saying?

OrestesThe man whose hands, thanks to your foresight, smuggled me away to the land of Phocis.

ElectraIs this him, the one man out of many I found faithful when our father was murdered?

OrestesThat’s him. Don’t press me with more questions.

ElectraOh, dearest light! The only savior of Agamemnon’s house, how did you come? Are you really the one who saved him and me from so much suffering? Oh, dearest hands! And feet that have done such sweet service! How could you be with me so long and keep yourself hidden, and not show yourself, but destroy me with words, when you had deeds that were sweetest of all to me? Welcome, Father, for it’s my father I seem to see. Welcome. And know that in a single day I’ve hated you and loved you more than anyone alive.

TutorI think that’s enough. As for the story of what happened in between, many nights and as many days are coming round that will make it all clear to you, Electra. But I tell you two, standing here: now is the time to act. Now Clytemnestra is alone. Now there’s no man inside. If you hold back, reckon that you’ll be fighting these and others, more of them and cleverer.

OrestesPylades, this is no longer a job for long speeches. We must go in as fast as we can, once we’ve bowed to the images of my father’s gods, all who dwell here at the gates.

ElectraLord Apollo, hear them graciously, and hear me too, who have so often stood before you with a begging hand, offering what I had. Now, Lycean Apollo, with what I have, I ask you, I fall before you, I beg you: be our willing helper in these plans, and show mankind what wages the gods pay for irreverence.

ChorusLook where Ares moves forward,
breathing blood that no one can fight.
Just now they have passed under the roof of the house,
the hounds no one escapes,
hunting down wicked crimes.
So the dream my mind has held hanging
will not wait long now.

For the champion of the dead below
is led with stealthy step into the house,
into his father’s seat of ancient wealth,
freshly whetted bloodshed in his hands.
And Maia’s son, Hermes, leads him on,
hiding the trick in darkness,
right to the end, and waits no longer.note

ElectraMy dearest friends, the men will finish the deed any moment. Just wait in silence.

ChorusHow so? What are they doing now?

ElectraShe’s dressing the urn for burial, and the two of them are standing close beside her.

ChorusAnd you—why have you rushed out?

ElectraTo keep watch, so Aegisthus doesn’t get in without our knowing.

ClytemnestraAh, ah! Oh, house, empty of loved ones and full of killers!

ElectraSomeone’s crying out inside. Don’t you hear, my friends?

ChorusI heard what should never be heard,
poor me, and I shudder.

ClytemnestraOh, no, no! Aegisthus, where are you?

ElectraListen, someone’s shouting again.

ClytemnestraMy child, my child, have pity on your mother!

ElectraBut you had no pity for him, or for the father who fathered him.

ChorusCity! Unhappy race! Now
the doom that hounded you day after day
is dying, dying.

ClytemnestraOh, no, I’m struck!

ClytemnestraOh, no, again!

ElectraIf only Aegisthus were getting it too!

ChorusThe curses are at work.
Those who lie beneath the earth are alive.
For the long dead are drawing off
the killers’ blood
in a stream that flows back on them.

And here they are. His red hand drips with sacrifice to Ares, and I can’t find fault.

ElectraOrestes, how did it go?

OrestesIn the house, all is well, if Apollo prophesied well.

ElectraIs she dead, the wretched woman?

OrestesDon’t be afraid any more that your mother’s arrogance will ever dishonor you.

ChorusStop! I can see Aegisthus, right there in plain sight.

ElectraBack inside, both of you!

OrestesWhere do you see the man?

ElectraHe’s on his way to us from the outskirts of town, full of glee …

ChorusInto the doorway, as fast as you can,
now! You handled the first one well;
now do it again.

OrestesDon’t worry. We’ll finish it.

ElectraThen hurry where you mean to go.

OrestesI’m already gone.

ElectraI’ll take care of things here.

ChorusIt would help to murmur a few words
gently into this man’s ear,
so he rushes blindly
into his hidden contest with justice.

AegisthusWhich of you knows where the strangers from Phocis are? They say they’ve brought us word that Orestes lost his life, wrecked among the horses. You, I’m asking you, yes, you, who used to be so bold. I think it matters most to you, and you’d know best what to tell me.

ElectraI know. How could I not? Otherwise I’d be a stranger to what has happened to the one I love most.

AegisthusSo where would the strangers be? Tell me.

ElectraInside. They’ve found a kind hostess.

AegisthusAnd did they really report that he’s dead?

ElectraNo, they’ve shown him too, not just in words.

AegisthusThen he’s here, so I can see for myself?

ElectraHe’s here all right, and not a sight to envy.

AegisthusYou’ve given me a great deal of joy. That’s not like you.

ElectraEnjoy it, if this turns out to be a joy for you.

AegisthusSilence! I order the doors thrown open for all the Mycenaeans and Argives to see. If any of them was once lifted up by empty hopes in this man, let him see his corpse now and take my bridle, and not wait to meet me as his punisher and have sense forced into him.

ElectraMy part is done already. Time has taught me sense, enough to go along with those who are stronger.

AegisthusZeus! I see a sight that has not come about without the gods’ envy. But if that word calls down retribution, I don’t say it. Take the whole covering from the face, so that our kinsman may have his lament from me as well.

OrestesLift it yourself. It isn’t for me but for you to look at this and speak to it lovingly.

AegisthusGood advice; I’ll take it. And you, if Clytemnestra is anywhere in the house, call her for me.

OrestesShe’s right beside you. Don’t look anywhere else.

AegisthusOh, no, what am I looking at?

OrestesWho frightens you? Who is it you don’t recognize?

AegisthusWhose nets have I fallen into, poor wretch that I am?

OrestesDidn’t you realize long ago that you’ve been talking to the living as if they were dead?

AegisthusOh, no, I understand you. There’s no way this can be anyone but Orestes speaking to me.

OrestesSuch a fine prophet, and you were wrong so long.

AegisthusThen I’m finished, wretch that I am. But let me say just a few words.

ElectraDon’t let him say another word, brother, for the gods’ sake, or drag out the talk. When men are steeped in wrongdoing, what does a man about to die gain from a little time? Kill him as fast as you can, and once he’s dead, throw him out to such buriers as he deserves, out of our sight. That alone could set me free from all I’ve suffered so long.

OrestesGet inside, quickly. This contest isn’t about words now. It’s about your life.

AegisthusWhy take me into the house? If this deed is so fine, why does it need darkness? Why aren’t you ready to kill me here?

OrestesDon’t give orders. Go where you killed my father, so you can die in the same place.

AegisthusMust this house really witness all the troubles of the line of Pelops, now and to come?

OrestesYours, at any rate. In that I’m a first-rate prophet for you.

AegisthusThat skill you boast of isn’t one you got from your father.

OrestesYou answer back a great deal, and our walk is getting slower. Move.

AegisthusLead the way.

OrestesYou have to go first.

AegisthusSo I won’t escape you?

OrestesNo: so you won’t die the way you’d like. I have to make sure it’s bitter for you. And this should be the punishment, straight away, for everyone who wants to act above the laws: death. Then there wouldn’t be much wickedness.

ChorusSeed of Atreus, after so much suffering
you have come out at last, barely, into freedom,
made whole by this day’s onslaught.