Six Tragedies
Page 27
as it glides past the Olympic stadium
is loved by any god, let him smile on us, and stop
this endless cycle of catastrophe.
Do not allow each generation to get worse,
each son more evil than his father was.
Let thirsty Tantalus’ wicked children grow
weary at last, and put aside their rages.
Enough wrong has been done. Goodness has done no good,
and those alike in evil hurt each other. Myrtilus*
deceived his master, was betrayed, and died,
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driven with treachery like his own, and giving
his name to that infamous Myrtoan sea.*
No tale is more familiar to Ionian sailors.
The little boy* was run through with a sword — what
wickedness! —
* * *
thyestes
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while he ran eagerly to his father’s arms:
he fell, an unripe victim at the altar,
and Tantalus, you carved him up, to serve
as a feast for the visiting gods. Eternal hunger
follows as reward for such a meal;
eternal thirst, too — proper punishment
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for such a savage kind of dinner-party.
Tantalus lingers, empty-mouthed and weary.
Abundance hovers over his evil head,
snatched from his grasp more swiftly than by Harpies.*
The tree is weighted down with heavy leaves,
and bent by its own fruit; its swaying motion
mocks the gaping jaws of Tantalus.
But for all his desperate yearning hunger,
he refuses to reach for the tree. He has had already
so many disappointments. He turns away,
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clamps shut his mouth, and binds his hunger with locked teeth.
But then the whole wood moves its riches closer,
ripe fruit surrounded by the heavy leaves
jumps just above his head, and sets on fire
his hunger. Hunger tells his hands: ‘Wake up,
and get to work.’ But when he stretches them out
he sets himself up for failure. All the harvest
and all the nimble grove is snatched into the air.
Then thirst comes over him, as bad as hunger;
his blood grows hot, the fire sets him alight;
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poor man, he stands there hoping for the water,
which seems to flow towards his mouth; but it twists away,
leaving a barren, empty channel. The stream
abandons him; he tries in vain to follow.
He drinks the thick dust left from the rushing river.
ACT TWO
atreus You have no courage, will, or spirit! What is worse,
in my view, for a tyrant in a crisis,
you have not taken revenge. After such crimes, such lies,
such brotherly betrayals, can you do nothing in your anger,
* * *
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thyestes
Atreus, but whine? The whole world ought already
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to be ringing with your clashing arms, your fleet
should be lined up on both sides of the Isthmus,
country and town should blaze with fire, and swords
flash everywhere. Let the whole land of Argos
sound with the clatter of horsemen; let the forests
and mountain citadels provide the enemy
no safety. Come forth, people of Mycenae,
and blow the trumpet of war. If anyone tries to protect
that hated brother of mine, I will have him slaughtered.
I do not care if this great and glorious house
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falls to ruin and kills me, as long as it kills him too.
Come on, my soul! Do deeds that history will condemn
but never cease to speak of. The crime that I must dare
is black and bloody — the kind of thing my brother
would wish he had done himself. To revenge a crime
you must go one better. Can any brutality outdo
the crimes of Thyestes? Does he ever give up?
His ambition knows no bounds when times are good;
no rest, when times are bad. I know the man:
persuasion and advice have no effect. He can be broken.
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So now, before he has had time to gather his strength,
a pre-emptive strike is needed, to stop him attacking me
when I am off my guard. He will kill me, or I him;
the winner is the one who gets there first.
servant
Are you not afraid
the people will speak against you?
atreus
The best thing about being king
is making folks accept whatever you do,
and even praise it.
servant
If you force praise by fear,
hatred and fear come back around to you.
True glory, true respect, come from the heart
not from the lips.
atreus
Even a low-born peasant
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can get true praise. But only the powerful
can get false praise. Let them want what they do not want.
servant A king should want the good, his wishes match his
people’s.
* * *
thyestes
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atreus If rulers can only do good things, their rule
depends on the people’s consent.
servant
If there is no honour,
no reverence for law, no trust, no faith, no goodness,
the kingdom cannot stand.
atreus
Trust, faith, goodness,
are merely private goals; kings follow their own way.
servant Remember that harming a brother, even a bad one,
is wrong.
atreus Any wrong is right against a brother like that.
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What crime has he left undone, what has he spared
to touch with sin? He seduced my wife, he stole her
and stole my kingdom too; he used deceit
to get the ancient mark of rule and to wreak havoc
upon our family. In Pelops’ lofty stables
there is a famous magic ram, lord of a wealthy flock.
A golden fleece flows over all his body.
Every new king in turn from the race of Tantalus
bears a sceptre gilded by that wool.
The owner of the ram is king, he has the power
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over this mighty house. Safe in a distant meadow
the holy animal grazes; the meadow is surrounded
by a stone wall to protect the fateful beast.
With brazen daring he made my wife his partner,
betrayed my bed and stole away the ram.
That was the source of all our pain, inflicted
by each upon the other. In fear I wandered, an exile,
through my own kingdom, threatened by all my family:
my wife was corrupted, my throne shaken by betrayal,
my house was sick, my blood in doubt.* I was sure of nothing 240
except my brother’s enmity. Why hesitate? Begin,
at last, to raise up your spirits. Look to Tantalus and Pelops:
my actions must be made to fit their model.
Tell me how to slaughter this terrible man.
servant Let your enemy die by the sword, and breathe his last.
atreus Death is the end of suffering. I want him to suffer.
Only weak kings kill. Under my rule, people beg
for the favour of death.
servant
But are you not moved by morality?
* * *
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thyestes
; atreus Away, morality! — If in fact you ever came
to our house. Let come the gang of ravening Furies,
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with violent Erinys, and Megaera, shaking
fire in each hand. The rage that burns my heart
needs to become more savage. I want to be filled
with greater horror.
servant
You are mad! What is your plan?
atreus Nothing that could accept the normal limits of pain;
I will leave no crime undone, and none will be enough.
servant Death by the sword?
atreus
Far too little.
servant Burning?
atreus
Still too little.
servant Then what means can your huge resentment use?
atreus The man himself: Thyestes.
servant
Too much! even for your rage.
atreus Yes, I agree. A trembling frenzy shakes my heart,
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and stirs it deep inside; I am swept away — to where
I do not know, but I am. Earth bellows from below,
the day is calm but I hear thunder; through all its towers
the palace crashes and seems to break. Shaken,
the Lares* turn away. Let it be, let this evil come about,
despite your terror, gods.
servant
So what are you planning to do?
atreus My heart is swollen with some greater thing,
something extraordinary, more than human.
It stirs my idle hands. I know not what it is,
but it is something huge. And let it be. Heart, take it up.
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Crime suits Thyestes, suits Atreus too;
let both perform it. — The house of Thrace has seen
feasts unspeakable* — of course, it is an atrocity,
but rather too cliché. My resentment needs to find
something more. Procne, inspire my heart,
with Philomel — our motives are alike.* Help me,
urge on my hands. Let the father carve and eat
his children, and do it with greed, and even joy.
Good, that is plenty; I like this type of punishment—
for the moment. But where is it? Why is Atreus
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innocent so long? A vision appears before me,
* * *
thyestes
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of a bloodbath, of a father’s bereavement, his loss devoured
by the father’s mouth. My heart, why shrink again,
why sink before the thing itself ? Come on, you have to be brave.
As to the worst obscenity in my evil plan,
it is: he will do it himself.
servant
But how will you deceive him
to put his foot into our net and be trapped?
He knows you hate him; he suspects you.
atreus
He could not be caught
unless he wished to be. He hopes to get my kingdom.
That hope will make him brave the threats of the stormy sea, 290
cross over the dangerous straits of Libyan Syrtis,
that hope will make him meet Jove’s thunderbolt,
that hope will even make him face the worst of all:
his brother.
servant
But who can make him trust you? Who
can make him believe it?
atreus
Evil hope will swallow anything.
But I will send my sons to tell their uncle
his days of wandering in exile are finally over,
he can change misfortune for a kingdom, and rule Argos
sharing the power. If at first Thyestes stubbornly refuses
to listen, then his children — being naive, and tired
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from all their troubles, easy to win over —
will yield first. Then his old ambition,
the bitterness of poverty and hardship,
will soften him, however hardened from misfortune.
servant But time has surely made his pain seem light by now.
atreus Wrong! Every day he feels his suffering more.
It is easy to bear misfortune, hard to go on doing it.
servant Pick other agents* for your savage plan.
atreus Young people are more obedient to bad orders.
servant If you teach them to turn on their uncle, they will turn
on their father.
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Crime often comes back round again to its teacher.
atreus Even if nobody teaches the ways of crime and deceit,
power itself will teach it. Are you worried they will grow bad?
They were born that way. The plan you call so wicked,
which you think savage, brutal, blasphemous —
* * *
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thyestes
maybe Thyestes is plotting it already.
servant
Will the boys
be told of the plot?
atreus
Children of tender years
cannot keep a secret; they could reveal my scheme.
Bitter experience teaches one to keep quiet.
servant Then you will trick the boys through whom you plan 320
to trick Thyestes?
atreus
Yes; then they will be innocent.
Just think: why should I implicate my children
in my own crime? Our hatred is between us, let us solve it.
No, my heart! You are shrinking back. If you spare your boys,
you will spare his too. Let Agamemnon be
a knowing instrument of my plot; let Menelaus
be conscious of the crime. Let me get proof
of their paternity from this bad deed. If they refuse
to fight for hatred, if they call him, ‘Uncle’,
he is their father. Let them go. — But a fearful face
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often reveals the truth; large plots betray
people against their will. Let them not know
the size of the scheme they serve. — And you must not tell.
servant I need no warning. Loyalty and fear —
but loyalty mostly — keeps your secret safe with me.
chorus Now this noble house,
descended from ancient Inachus,*
has finally fixed* the brothers’ quarrel.
What rage incites you
to shed each other’s blood
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and get the throne by crime?
In your greed for power, you do not know
where kingship really lies.
Wealth does not make the king,*
nor robes of Tyrian purple,*
nor the diadem on the brow,
nor ceilings bright with gold.
A king is one who can set fear aside,
who has no wickedness inside his heart.
Neither the rashness of ambition, nor
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the fickle favour of the populace
* * *
thyestes
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can ever sway him.
Not all the gold-mines of the west,
or all the wealth of Tagus
whose riverbed shines golden;*
nor all the wheat, ground by the threshing-floors
in the blaze of the Libyan harvest.*
The zigzag of the lightning’s path
will never touch him, nor the wind
from the east, seizing hold of the sea;
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nor the savage swelling of the wild
Adriatic Sea.
No soldier’s spear
nor drawn swords can subdue him.
From a place of safety,
he looks down on everything,
and willingly meets his fate.
He does not complain at dying.
Let the rulers band
together:
those who rouse the nomadic Dahae,*
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those who control the Indian Ocean,
whose waters are stained the colour of blood
by so many shining jewels;
or those who fight on the Caspian Mountains
the strong Sarmatian invaders.*
War is for those who dare to walk
on the frozen Danube, and those who wear
distinguished robes of silk:
the Seres,* who live beyond our maps.
A strong mind is more powerful.
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There is no need of horses,
there is no need of arms and feeble weapons,
such as those the Parthian
shoots from a distance when he pretends to flee,*
no need to flatten cities
by bringing in siege weapons
to whirl the boulders through the air.
A king is a man without fear,
a king is a man without desire.
Everyone makes this kingdom for himself.
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* * *
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thyestes
Stand, if you wish, on the slippery
pinnacle of power.
But I am satisfied with sweet peace.
Let my place be humble, let me enjoy
quiet free time forever.
Let my life flow by in silence,
unmarked by the people of Rome.
When my days have passed in this way,
without noise, let me grow old,
but never rise in class, and let me die.
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Death weighs more heavily on those
who are all too well known to everyone
but who do not know themselves.
ACT THREE
thyestes How I longed for my homeland, my house,
and the wealth
of Argos! This is the greatest happiness for exiles, after pain,
to see their native earth and their ancestral gods—
if there are really gods — and the high and holy walls
built by the Cyclopes,* on larger-than-human scale.
I see it all at last — the racetrack thronged with boys,
where I often used to win the prize, in my father’s chariot.
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All Argos will rush to meet me, all the people —
but that includes Atreus. Go back to your exile in the woods,
the thickly tangled groves, and the life you led in the wild,
with animals, and like them. No reason to be dazzled
by the false, flashy brightness of royal power.
When you look at the gift, look at the giver too.
Just now, I had the kind of life that everyone would pity;
but I was brave and happy. Now, on the other hand,
I am dizzy with fear. My heart is stuck, and longs