The Cypria: Reconstructing the Lost Prequel to Homer's Iliad

by D M Smith

  CHORUS Ah, wretched Helen! Awful the struggle that has come to the sons of Atreus and their children, thanks to thee and those marriages of thine.

  AGAMEMNON While loving my own children, I yet understand what should move my pity and what should not—I were a madman else. ’Tis terrible for me to bring myself to this, nor less terrible is it to refuse, Daughter; for I must fare the same. Ye see the vastness of yon naval host, and the numbers of bronze-clad warriors from Hellas, who can neither make their way to Ilium’s towers nor raze the far-famed citadel of Troy, unless I offer thee according to the word of Calchas the seer. Some mad desire possesses the host of Hellas to sail forthwith to the land of the barbarians, and put a stop to the rape of wives from Hellas, and they will slay my daughters in Argos as well as you and me if I disregard the goddess’ behests. It is not Menelaus who hath enslaved me to him, child, nor have I followed wish of his; nay, ’tis Hellas, for whom I must sacrifice thee whether I will or no. To this necessity I bow my head; for her freedom must be preserved, as far as any help of thine, Daughter, or mine can go. Nor must they, who are the sons of Hellas, be pillaged of their wives by barbarian robbery.

  AGAMEMNON rushes from the stage

  CLYTEMNESTRA My child! Ye stranger ladies! Woe is me for this thy death! Thy father flies, surrendering thee to Hades.

  IPHIGENIA Woe is me, oh Mother mine! For the same strain hath fallen to both of us in our fortune. No more for me the light of day! No more the beams of yonder sun! Woe for that snow-beat glen in Phrygia and the hills of Ida, where Priam once exposed a tender babe, torn from his mother’s arms to meet a deadly doom—even Paris, called the child of Ida in the Phrygians’ town. Would Priam never had settled him, the herdsman reared amid the herds, beside that water crystal-clear, where are fountains of the Nymphs and their meadow rich with blooming flowers, where hyacinths and rosebuds blow for goddesses to gather! Hither one day came Pallas and Cypris of the subtle heart, Hera too and Hermes messenger of Zeus. Cypris, proud of the longing she causes; Pallas of her prowess; and Hera of her royal marriage with King Zeus, to decide a hateful strife about their beauty. But it is my death, maidens—fraught, ’tis true, with glory to the Danai—that Artemis has received as an offering, before they begin the voyage to Ilium.

  Oh Mother, Mother! He that begat me to this life of sorrow has gone and left me all alone. Ah! Woe is me! A bitter, bitter sight for me was Helen, evil Helen! To me now doomed to bleed and die, slaughtered by an impious sire.

  I would this Aulis had never received in its havens here the sterns of their bronze-beaked ships, the fleet which was speeding them to Troy. And would that Zeus had never breathed on the Euripus a wind to stop the expedition, tempering, as he doth, a different breeze to different men, so that some have joy in setting sail, and sorrow some, and others hard constraint, to make some start and others stay and others furl their sails! Full of trouble then, it seems, is the race of mortals, full of trouble verily; and ’tis ever Fate’s decree that man should find distress.

  Woe! Woe to thee, thou child of Tyndareus, for the suffering and anguish sore, which thou art causing the Danai!

  CHORUS I pity thee for thy cruel fate—a fate I would thou never hadst met!

  IPHIGENIA Oh Mother that bare me! I see a throng of men approaching.

  CLYTEMNESTRA It is the goddess-born thou seest, child, for whom thou camest hither.

  IPHIGENIA (Calling into the tent) Open the tent-door to me, servants, that I may hide myself.

  CLYTEMNESTRA Why seek to fly, my child?

  IPHIGENIA I am ashamed to face Achilles.

  CLYTEMNESTRA Wherefore?

  IPHIGENIA The luckless ending to our marriage causes me to feel abashed.

  CLYTEMNESTRA No time for affectation now in face of what has chanced. Stay then; reserve will do no good, if only we can—

  Enter ACHILLES

  ACHILLES Daughter of Leda, lady of sorrows!

  CLYTEMNESTRA No misnomer that.

  ACHILLES A fearful cry is heard among the Argives.

  CLYTEMNESTRA What is it? Tell me.

  ACHILLES It concerns thy child.

  CLYTEMNESTRA An evil omen for thy words.

  ACHILLES They say her sacrifice is necessary.

  CLYTEMNESTRA And is there no one to say a word against them?

  ACHILLES Indeed I was in some danger myself from the tumult.

  CLYTEMNESTRA In danger of what, kind sir?

  ACHILLES Of being stoned.

  CLYTEMNESTRA Surely not for trying to save my daughter?

  ACHILLES The very reason.

  CLYTEMNESTRA Who would have dared to lay a finger on thee?

  ACHILLES The men of Hellas, one and all.

  CLYTEMNESTRA Were not thy Myrmidon warriors at thy side?

  ACHILLES They were the first who turned against me.

  CLYTEMNESTRA My child! We are lost; undone, it seems.

  ACHILLES They taunted me as the man whom marriage had enslaved.

  CLYTEMNESTRA And what didst thou answer them?

  ACHILLES I craved the life of her I meant to wed.

  CLYTEMNESTRA Justly so.

  ACHILLES The wife her father promised me.

  CLYTEMNESTRA Aye, and sent to fetch from Argos.

  ACHILLES But I was overcome by clamorous cries.

  CLYTEMNESTRA Truly the mob is a dire mischief.

  ACHILLES But I will help thee for all that.

  CLYTEMNESTRA Wilt thou really fight them single-handed?

  ACHILLES Dost see these warriors here, carrying my arms?

  CLYTEMNESTRA Bless thee for thy kind intent!

  ACHILLES Well, I shall be blessed.

  CLYTEMNESTRA Then my child will not be slaughtered now?

  ACHILLES No, not with my consent at any rate.

  CLYTEMNESTRA But will any of them come to lay hands on the maid?

  ACHILLES Thousands of them, with Odysseus at their head.

  CLYTEMNESTRA The son of Sisyphus?

  ACHILLES The very same.

  CLYTEMNESTRA Acting for himself or by the army’s order?

  ACHILLES By their choice—and his own.

  CLYTEMNESTRA An evil choice indeed, to stain his hands in blood!

  ACHILLES But I will hold him back.

  CLYTEMNESTRA Will he seize and bear her hence against her will?

  ACHILLES Aye, by her golden hair no doubt.

  CLYTEMNESTRA What must I do, when it comes to that?

  ACHILLES Keep hold of thy daughter.

  CLYTEMNESTRA Be sure that she shall not be slain, as far as that can help her.

  ACHILLES Believe me, it will come to this.

  IPHIGENIA Mother, hear me while I speak, for I see that thou art wroth with thy husband to no purpose; ’tis hard for us to persist in impossibilities. Our thanks are due to this stranger for his ready help; but thou must also see to it that he is not reproached by the army, leaving us no better off and himself involved in trouble. Listen, Mother; hear what thoughts have passed across my mind. I am resolved to die, and this I fain would do with honour, dismissing from me what is mean. Towards this now, Mother, turn thy thoughts, and with me weigh how well I speak.

  To me the whole of mighty Hellas looks; on me the passage over the sea depends. On me the sack of Troy, and in my power it lies to check henceforth barbarian raids on happy Hellas—if ever in the days to come they seek to seize her daughters, when once they have atoned by death for the violation of Helen’s marriage by Paris. All this deliverance will my death ensure, and my fame for setting Hellas free will be a happy one. Besides, I have no right at all to cling too fondly to my life; for thou didst not bear me for myself alone, but as a public blessing to all Hellas. What! Shall countless warriors, armed with shields, those myriads sitting at the oar, find courage to attack the foe and die for Hellas, because their fatherland is wronged, and my one life prevent all this? What kind of justice is that? Could I find a word in answer?

  Now turn we to that other point. It is not right that this man s
hould enter the lists with all Argos or be slain for a woman’s sake. Better a single man should see the light than ten thousand women. If Artemis is minded to take this body, am I, a weak mortal, to thwart the goddess? Nay, that were impossible. To Hellas I resign it; offer this sacrifice and make an utter end of Troy. This is my enduring monument; marriage, motherhood, and fame—all these is it to me. And it is but right, Mother, that Hellenes should rule barbarians, but not barbarians Hellenes, those being slaves while these are free.

  CHORUS Thou playest a noble part, maiden; but sickly are the whims of Fate and the goddess.

  ACHILLES Daughter of Agamemnon, if some god was bent on blessing me, could I but have won thee for my wife. In thee I reckon Hellas happy, and thee in Hellas. For this that thou hast said is good and worthy of thy fatherland; since thou, abandoning a strife with heavenly powers, which are too strong for thee, has fairly weighed advantages and needs. But now that I have looked into thy noble nature, I feel still more a fond desire to win thee for my bride. Look to it, for I would fain serve thee and receive thee in my halls; and witness Thetis, how I grieve to think I shall not save thy life by doing battle with the Danai. Reflect, I say; a dreadful ill is death.

  IPHIGENIA This I say, without regard to anyone. Enough that the daughter of Tyndareus is causing wars and bloodshed by her beauty; then be not slain thyself, sir stranger, nor seek to slay another on my account; but let me, if I can, save Hellas.

  ACHILLES Heroic spirit! I can say no more to this, since thou art so minded; for thine is a noble resolve. Why should not one avow the truth? Yet will I speak, for thou wilt haply change thy mind; that thou mayst know then what my offer is, I will go and place these arms of mine near the altar, resolved not to permit thy death but to prevent it. For brave as thou art, at sight of the knife held at thy throat, thou wilt soon avail thyself of what I said. So I will not let thee perish through any thoughtlessness of thine, but will go to the temple of the goddess with these arms and await thy arrival there.

  Exit ACHILLES

  IPHIGENIA Mother, why so silent, thine eyes wet with tears?

  CLYTEMNESTRA I have reason, woe is me, to be sad at heart!

  IPHIGENIA Forbear; make me not a coward. Here in one thing obey me.

  CLYTEMNESTRA Say what it is, my child, for at my hands thou shalt never suffer injury.

  IPHIGENIA Cut not off the tresses of thy hair for me, nor clothe thyself in sable garb.

  CLYTEMNESTRA Why, my child, What is it thou hast said? Shall I, when I lose thee—

  IPHIGENIA “Lose” me thou dost not. I am saved and thou renowned, as far as I can make thee.

  CLYTEMNESTRA How so? Must I not mourn thy death?

  IPHIGENIA By no means, for I shall have no tomb heaped over me.

  CLYTEMNESTRA What, is not the act of dying held to imply burial?

  IPHIGENIA The altar of the goddess, Zeus’ daughter, will be my tomb.

  CLYTEMNESTRA Well, my child, I will let thee persuade me, for thou sayest well.

  IPHIGENIA Aye, as one who prospereth and doeth Hellas service.

  CLYTEMNESTRA What message shall I carry to thy sisters?

  IPHIGENIA Put not mourning raiment on them either.

  CLYTEMNESTRA But is there no fond message I can give the maidens from thee?

  IPHIGENIA Yes, my farewell words; and promise me to rear this babe Orestes to manhood.

  CLYTEMNESTRA Press him to thy bosom; ’tis thy last look.

  IPHIGENIA Oh thou that art most dear to me! Thou hast helped thy friends as thou hadst means.

  CLYTEMNESTRA Is there anything I can do to pleasure thee in Argos?

  IPHIGENIA Yes, hate not my father, thy own husband.

  CLYTEMNESTRA Fearful are the trials through which he has to go because of thee.

  IPHIGENIA It was against his will he ruined me for the sake of Hellas.

  CLYTEMNESTRA Ah! But he employed base treachery, unworthy of Atreus.

  IPHIGENIA Who will escort me hence, before my hair is torn?

  CLYTEMNESTRA I will go with thee.

  IPHIGENIA No, not thou; thou say’st not well.

  CLYTEMNESTRA I will, clinging to thy robes.

  IPHIGENIA Be persuaded by me, Mother, stay here; for this is the better way alike for me and thee. Let one of these attendants of my father conduct me to the meadow of Artemis, where I shall be sacrificed.

  CLYTEMNESTRA Art gone from me, my child?

  IPHIGENIA Aye, and with no chance of ever returning.

  CLYTEMNESTRA Leaving thy mother?

  IPHIGENIA Yes, as thou seest, undeservedly.

  CLYTEMNESTRA Hold! Leave me not!

  IPHIGENIA I cannot let thee shed a tear.

  Exit CLYTEMNESTRA

  IPHIGENIA (To the CHORUS) Be it yours, maidens, to hymn in joyous strains Artemis, the child of Zeus, for my hard lot, and let the order for a solemn hush go forth to the Danai. Begin the sacrifice with the baskets, let the fire blaze for the purifying meal of sprinkling, and my father pace from left to right about the altar, for I come to bestow on Hellas safety crowned with victory. Lead me hence, me the destroyer of Ilium’s town and the Phrygians. Give me wreaths to cast about me; bring them hither. Here are my tresses to crown; bring lustral water too. Dance to Artemis, Queen Artemis the blest, around her fane and altar; for by the blood of my sacrifice I will blot out the oracle, if it needs must be.

  Oh Mother, lady revered! For thee shall my tears be shed, and now; for at the holy rites I may not weep.

  Sing with me, maidens, sing the praises of Artemis, whose temple faces Chalcis, where angry spearmen madly chafe, here in the narrow havens of Aulis, because of me. Oh Pelasgia, land of my birth, and Mycenae, my home!

  CHORUS Is it on Perseus’ citadel thou callest, that town Cyclopean workmen build.

  IPHIGENIA To be a light to Hellas didst thou rear me, and so I say not “No” to death.

  CHORUS Thou art right; no fear that fame will ever desert thee!

  IPHIGENIA Hail to thee, bright lamp of day and light of Zeus! A different life, different lot is henceforth mine. Farewell I bid thee, light beloved!

  Exit IPHIGENIA

  CHORUS Behold the maiden on her way, the destroyer of Ilium’s town and its Phrygians, with garlands twined about her head, and drops of lustral water on her, soon to besprinkle with her gushing blood the altar of a murderous goddess, what time her shapely neck is severed.

  For thee fair streams of a father’s pouring and lustral waters are in store, for thee Achaea’s host is waiting, eager to reach the citadel of Ilium. But let us celebrate Artemis, the daughter of Zeus, queen among the gods, as if upon some happy chance.

  Oh lady revered, delighting in human sacrifice, send on its way to Phrygia’s land the host of the Hellenes, to Troy’s abodes of guile, and grant that Agamemnon may wreathe his head with deathless fame, a crown of fairest glory for the spearmen of Hellas.

  Enter MESSENGER

  MESSENGER Come forth, oh Clytemnestra, daughter of Tyndareus, from the tent to hear my news.

  Enter CLYTEMNESTRA

  CLYTEMNESTRA I heard thy voice and am come in sad dismay and fearful dread, not sure but what thou hast arrived with tidings of some fresh trouble for me besides the present woe.

  MESSENGER Nay, rather would I unfold to thee a story strange and marvellous about thy child.

  CLYTEMNESTRA Delay not then, but speak at once.

  MESSENGER Dear mistress, thou shalt learn all clearly; from the outset will I tell it, unless my memory fail me somewhat and confuse my tongue in its account. As soon as we reached the grove of Artemis, the child of Zeus, and the meadows gay with flowers where the Achaean troops were gathered, bringing thy daughter with us, forthwith the Argive host began assembling. But when King Agamemnon saw the maiden on her way to the grove to be sacrificed, he gave one groan, and, turning away his face, let the tears burst from his eyes as he held his robe before them. But the maid, standing close by him that begot her, spake on this wise, “Oh my father, here am I
to do thy bidding. Freely I offer this body of mine for my country and all Hellas, that ye may lead me to the altar of the goddess and sacrifice me, since this is Heaven’s ordinance. Good luck be yours for any help that I afford! And may ye obtain the victor’s gift and come again to the land of your fathers. So then let none of the Argives lay hands on me, for I will bravely yield my neck without a word.”

  She spake; and each man marvelled as he heard the maiden’s brave, unflinching speech. But in the midst up stood Talthybius—for his this duty was—and bade the host refrain from word or deed; and Calchas the seer, drawing a sharp sword from out its scabbard laid it in a basket of beaten gold, crowning the maiden’s head the while. Then the son of Peleus, taking the basket and with it lustral water in his hand, ran round the altar of the goddess uttering these words, “Oh Artemis, thou child of Zeus, slayer of wild beasts, that wheelest thy dazzling light amid the gloom, accept this sacrifice which we, the host of the Achaeans and King Agamemnon with us, offer to thee, even pure blood from a beauteous maiden’s neck; and grant us safe sailing for our ships and the sack of Troy’s towers by our spears.”