And ye who dwell within the inner chamber Where shines the stored joy of gold- Gods of one heart, O hear ye, and remember; Up and avenge the blood shed forth of old, With sudden rightful blow; Then let the old curse die, nor be renewed With progeny of blood,- Once more, and not again, be latter guilt laid low!
refrain 2
O thou who dwell’st in Delphi’s mighty cave, Grant us to see this home once more restored Unto its rightful lord! Let it look forth, from veils of death, with joyous eye Unto the dawning light of liberty;
antistrophe 2
And Hermes, Maia’s child, lend hand to save, Willing the right, and guide Our state with Fortune’s breeze adown the favouring tide. Whate’er in darkness hidden lies, He utters at his will; He at his will throws darkness on our eyes, By night and eke by day inscrutable.
strophe 3
Then, then shall wealth atone The ills that here were done. Then, then will we unbind, Fling free on wafting wind Of joy, the woman’s voice that waileth now In piercing accents for a chief laid low;
refrain 3
And this our song shall be- Hail to the commonwealth restored! Hail to the freedom won to me! All hail! for doom hath passed from him, my well-loved lord!
antistrophe 3
And thou, O child, when Time and Chance agree, Up to the deed that for thy sire is done! And if she wail unto thee, Spare, O son- Cry, Aid, O father-and achieve the deed, The horror of man’s tongue, the gods’ great need! Hold in thy breast such heart as Perseus had, The bitter woe work forth, Appease the summons of the dead, The wrath of friends on earth; Yea, set within a sign of blood and doom, And do to utter death him that polilites thy home.
Hither and not unsummoned have I come; For a new rumour, borne by stranger men Arriving hither, hath attained mine ears, Of hap unwished-for, even Orestes’ death. This were new sorrow, a blood-bolter’d load Laid on the house that doth already bow Beneath a former wound that festers deep. Dare I opine these words have truth and life? Or are they tales, of woman’s terror born, That fly in the void air, and die disproved? Canst thou tell aught, and prove it to my soul?
Zeus, Zeus! what word to me is given? What cry or prayer, invoking heaven, Shall first by me be uttered? What speech of craft-nor all revealing, Nor all too warily concealing- Ending my speech, shall aid the deed? For lo! in readiness is laid The dark emprise, the rending blade; Blood-dropping daggers shall achieve The dateless doom of Atreus’ name, Or-kindling torch and joyful flame In sign of new-won liberty- Once more Orestes shall retrieve His father’s wealth, and, throned on high, Shall hold the city’s fealty. So mighty is the grasp whereby, Heaven-holpen, he shall trip and throw, Unseconded, a double foe. Ho for the victory!
Help, help, alas!
O woe, O woe, my lord is done to death! Woe, woe, and woe again, Aegisthus gone! Hasten, fling wide the doors, unloose the bolts Of the queen’s chamber. O for some young strength To match the need! but aid availeth nought To him laid low for ever. Help, help, help Sure to deaf ears I shout, and call in vain To slumber ineffectual. What ho! The queen! how fareth Clytemnestra’s self? Her neck too, hers, is close upon the steel, And soon shall sing, hewn thro’ as justice wills.
What ails thee, raising this ado for us?
I say the dead are come to slay the living.
Thee too I seek: for him what’s done will serve.
Woe, woe! Aegisthus, spouse and champion, slain!
Can I my mother spare? speak, Pylades.
Thou dost prevail; I hold thy counsel good.
I nursed thee young; must I forego mine eld?
Thou slew’st my father; shalt thou dwell with me?
Fate bore a share in these things, O my child
Fate also doth provide this doom for thee.
Beware, O child, a parent’s dying curse.
A parent who did cast me out to ill!
Not cast thee out, but to a friendly home.
Born free, I was by twofold bargain sold.
Where then the price that I received for thee?
The price of shame; I taunt thee not more plainly.
Nay, but recount thy father’s lewdness too.
Home-keeping, chide not him who toils without.
‘Tis hard for wives to live as widows, child.
The absent husband toils for them at home.
Thou growest fain to slay thy mother, child.
Nay, ’tis thyself wilt slay thyself, not I.
Beware thy mother’s vengeful hounds from hell.
How shall I ‘scape my father’s, sparing thee?
Living, I cry as to a tomb, unheard.
My father’s fate ordains this doom for thee.
Ah me! this snake it was I bore and nursed.
There came on Priam’s race and name A vengeance; though it tarried long, With heavy doom it came. Came, too, on Agamemnon’s hall A lion-pair, twin swordsmen strong. And last, the heritage doth fall To him, to whom from Pythian cave The god his deepest counsel gave.refrain 1Cry out, rejoice! our kingly hall Hath ‘scaped from ruin-ne’er again Its ancient wealth be wasted all By two usurpers, sin-defiled- An evil path of woe and bane!
The Choephori by Aeschylus