by Aeschylus
CHORUS
[1130] I cannot boast that I am a keen judge of prophecies; but these, I think, spell some evil. But from prophecies what word of good ever comes to mortals? Through terms of evil their wordy arts bring men to know fear chanted in prophetic strains.
CASSANDRA
[1136] Alas, alas, the sorrow of my ill-starred doom! For it is my own affliction, crowning the cup, that I bewail. Ah, to what end did you bring me here, unhappy as I am? For nothing except to die — and not alone. What else?
CHORUS
[1140] Frenzied in soul you are, by some god possessed, and you wail in wild strains your own fate, like that brown bird that never ceases making lament (ah me!), and in the misery of her heart moans Itys, Itys, throughout all her days abounding in sorrow, the nightingale.
CASSANDRA
[1146] Ah, fate of the clear-voiced nightingale! The gods clothed her in a winged form and gave to her a sweet life without tears. But for me waits destruction by the two-edged sword.
CHORUS
[1150] From where come these vain pangs of prophecy that assail you? And why do you mold to melody these terrors with dismal cries blended with piercing strains? How do you know the bounds of the path of your ill-boding prophecy?
CASSANDRA
[1156] Ah, the marriage, the marriage of Paris, that destroyed his friends! Ah me, Scamander, my native stream! Upon your banks in bygone days, unhappy maid, was I nurtured with fostering care; but now by Cocytus and the banks of Acheron, I think, I soon must chant my prophecies.
CHORUS
[1162] What words are these you utter, words all too plain? A new-born child hearing them could understand. I am smitten with a deadly pain, while, by reason of your cruel fortune, you cry aloud your pitiful moans that break my heart to hear.
CASSANDRA
[1167] O the sufferings, the sufferings of my city utterly destroyed! Alas, the sacrifices my father offered, the many pasturing cattle slain to save its towers! Yet they provided no remedy to save the city from suffering even as it has; and I, my soul on fire, must soon fall to the ground.
CHORUS
[1173] Your present speech chimes with your former strain. Surely some malignant spirit, falling upon you with heavy swoop, moves you to chant your piteous woes fraught with death. But the end I am helpless to discover.
CASSANDRA
[1178] And now, no more shall my prophecy peer forth from behind a veil like a new-wedded bride; but it will rush upon me clear as a fresh wind blowing against the sun’s uprising so as to dash against its rays, like a wave, a woe far mightier than mine. No more by riddles will I instruct you. And bear me witness, as, running close behind, I scent the track of crimes done long ago. For from this roof never departs a choir chanting in unison, but singing no harmonious tune; for it tells not of good. And so, gorged on human blood, so as to be the more emboldened, a revel-rout of kindred Furies haunts the house, hard to be drive away. Lodged within its halls they chant their chant, the primal sin; and, each in turn, they spurn with loathing a brother’s bed, for they bitterly spurn the one who defiled it. Have I missed the mark, or, like a true archer, do I strike my quarry? Or am I prophet of lies, a door-to-door babbler? Bear witness upon your oath that I know the deeds of sin, ancient in story, of this house.
CHORUS
[1198] How could an oath, a pledge although given in honor, effect any cure? Yet I marvel at you that, though bred beyond the sea, you speak truth of a foreign city, even as if you had been present there.
CASSANDRA
[1202] The seer Apollo appointed me to this office.
CHORUS
[1203] Can it be that he, a god, was smitten with desire?
CASSANDRA
[1204] Before now I was ashamed to speak of this.
CHORUS
[1205] In prosperity all take on airs.
CASSANDRA
[1206] Oh, but he struggled to win me, breathing ardent love for me.
CHORUS
[1207] Did you in due course come to the rite of marriage?
CASSANDRA
[1208] I consented to Loxias but broke my word.
CHORUS
[1209] Were you already possessed by the art inspired of the god?
CASSANDRA
[1210] Already I prophesied to my countrymen all their disasters.
CHORUS
[1211] How came it then that you were unharmed by Loxias’ wrath?
CASSANDRA
[1212] Ever since that fault I could persuade no one of anything.
CHORUS
[1213] And yet to us at least the prophecies you utter seem true enough.
CASSANDRA
[1214] Ah, ah! Oh, oh, the agony! Once more the dreadful throes of true prophecy whirl and distract me with their ill-boding onset. Do you see them there — sitting before the house — young creatures like phantoms of dreams? Children, they seem, slaughtered by their own kindred, their hands full of the meat of their own flesh; they are clear to my sight, holding their vitals and their inward parts (piteous burden!), which their father tasted. For this cause I tell you that a strengthless lion, wallowing in his bed, plots vengeance, a watchman waiting (ah me!) for my master’s coming home — yes, my master, for I must bear the yoke of slavery. The commander of the fleet and the overthrower of Ilium little knows what deeds shall be brought to evil accomplishment by the hateful hound, whose tongue licked his hand, who stretched forth her ears in gladness, like treacherous Ate. Such boldness has she, a woman to slay a man. What odious monster shall I fitly call her? An Amphisbaena? Or a Scylla, tenanting the rocks, a pest to mariners, a raging, devil’s mother, breathing relentless war against her husband? And how the all-daring woman raised a shout of triumph, as when the battle turns, the while she feigned to joy at his safe return! And yet, it is all one, whether or not I am believed. What does it matter? What is to come, will come. And soon you, yourself present here, shall with great pity pronounce me all too true a prophetess.
CHORUS
[1242] Thyestes’ banquet on his children’s flesh I understood, and I tremble. Terror possesses me as I hear the truth, nothing fashioned out of falsehood to resemble truth. But as for the rest I heard I am thrown off the track.
CASSANDRA
[1246] I say you shall look upon Agamemnon dead.
CHORUS
[1247] To words propitious, miserable girl, lull your speech.
CASSANDRA
[1248] Over what I tell no healing god presides.
CHORUS
[1249] No, if it is to be; but may it not be so!
CASSANDRA
[1250] You do but pray; their business is to slay.
CHORUS
[1251] What man is he that contrived this wickedness?
CASSANDRA
[1252] Surely you must have missed the meaning of my prophecies.
CHORUS
[1253] I do not understand the scheme of him who is to do the deed.
CASSANDRA
[1254] And yet all too well I understand the Greek language.
CHORUS
[1255] So too do the Pythian oracles; yet they are hard to understand.
CASSANDRA
[1256] Oh, oh! What fire! It comes upon me! Woe, woe! Lycean Apollo! Ah me, ah me! This two-footed lioness, who mates with a wolf in the absence of the noble lion, will slay me, miserable as I am. Brewing as it were a drug, she vows that with her wrath she will mix requital for me too, while she whets her sword against her husband, to take murderous vengeance for bringing me here. Why then do I bear these mockeries of myself, this wand, these prophetic chaplets on my neck?
[Breaking her wand, she throws it and the other insignia of her prophetic office upon the ground, and tramples them underfoot.]
[1266] You at least I will destroy before I die myself. To destruction with you! And fallen there, thus do I repay you. Enrich with doom some other in my place. Look, Apollo himself is stripping me of my prophetic garb — he that saw me mocked to bitter scorn, ev
en in this bravery, by friends turned foes, with one accord, in vain — but, like some vagrant mountebank, called “beggar,” “wretch,” “starveling,” I bore it all. And now the prophet, having undone me, his prophetess, has brought me to this lethal pass. Instead of my father’s altar a block awaits me, where I am to be butchered in a hot and bloody sacrifice. Yet, we shall not die unavenged by the gods; for there shall come in turn another, our avenger, a scion of the race, to slay his mother and exact requital for his sire; an exile, a wanderer, a stranger from this land, he shall return to put the coping-stone upon these unspeakable iniquities of his house. For the gods have sworn a mighty oath that his slain father’s outstretched corpse shall bring him home. Why then thus raise my voice in pitiful lament? Since first I saw the city of Ilium fare what it has fared, while her captors, by the gods’ sentence, are coming to such an end, I will go in and meet my fate. I will dare to die. This door I greet as the gates of Death. And I pray that, dealt a mortal stroke, without a struggle, my life-blood ebbing away in easy death, I may close these eyes.
CHORUS
[1295] O woman, pitiful exceedingly and exceeding wise, long has been your speech. But if, in truth, you have knowledge of your own death, how can you step with calm courage to the altar like an ox, driven by the god?
CASSANDRA
[1299] There is no escape; no, my friends, there is none any more.
CHORUS
[1300] Yet he that is last has the advantage in respect of time.
CASSANDRA
[1301] The day has come; flight would profit me but little.
CHORUS
[1302] Well, be assured, you brave suffering with a courageous spirit.
CASSANDRA
[1303] None who is happy is commended thus.
CHORUS
[1304] Yet surely to die nobly is a blessing for mortals.
CASSANDRA
[1305] Alas for you, my father and for your noble children!
[She starts back in horror.]
CHORUS
[1306] What ails you? What terror turns you back?
CASSANDRA
[1307] Alas, alas!
CHORUS
[1308] Why do you cry “alas”? Unless perhaps there is some horror in your soul.
CASSANDRA
[1309] This house stinks of blood-dripping slaughter.
CHORUS
[1310] And what of that? It is just the savor of victims at the hearth.
CASSANDRA
[1311] It is like a breath from a charnel-house.
CHORUS
[1312] You are not speaking of proud Syrian incense for the house.
CASSANDRA
[1313] Nay, I will go to bewail also within the palace my own and Agamemnon’s fate. Enough of life! Alas, my friends, not with vain terror do I shrink, as a bird that fears a bush. After I am dead, bear witness for me of this — when for me, a woman, another woman shall be slain, and for an ill-wedded man another man shall fall. I claim this favor from you now that my hour is come.
CHORUS
[1321] Poor woman, I pity you for your death foretold.
CASSANDRA
[1322] Yet once more I would like to speak, but not a dirge. I pray to the sun, in presence of his latest light, that my enemies may at the same time pay to my avengers a bloody penalty for slaughtering a slave, an easy prey. Alas for human fortune! When prosperous, a mere shadow can overturn it; if misfortune strikes, the dash of a wet sponge blots out the drawing. And this last I deem far more pitiable than that.
[Enters the palace.]
CHORUS
[1333] It is the nature of all human kind to be unsatisfied with prosperity. From stately halls none bars it with warning voice that utters the words “Enter no more.” So the Blessed Ones have granted to our prince to capture Priam’s town; and, divinely-honored, he returns to his home. Yet if he now must pay the penalty for the blood shed by others before him, and by dying for the dead he is to bring to pass retribution of other deaths, what mortal man, on hearing this, can boast that he was born with scatheless destiny?
[A shriek is heard from within.]
AGAMEMNON
[1343] Alas! I am struck deep with a mortal blow!
CHORUS
[1344] Silence! Who is this that cries out, wounded by a mortal blow?
AGAMEMNON
[1345] And once again, alas! I am struck by a second blow.
CHORUS
[1346] The deed is done, it seems — to judge by the groans of the king. But come, let us take counsel together if there is perhaps some safe plan of action.
[The members of the Chorus deliver their opinion on the course to be taken.]
[1349] 1. I tell you my advice: summon the townsfolk to bring rescue here to the palace.
[1350] 2. To my thinking we must burst in and charge them with the deed while the sword is still dripping in their hands.
[1352] 3. I, too, am for taking part in some such plan, and vote for action of some sort. It is no time to keep on delaying.
[1354] 4. It is plain. Their opening act marks a plan to set up a tyranny in the State.
[1356] 5.Yes, because we are wasting time, while they, trampling underfoot that famous name, Delay, allow their hands no slumber.
[1358] 6. I know not what plan I could hit on to propose. It is the doer’s part likewise to do the planning.
[1360] 7. I too am of this mind, for I know no way to bring the dead back to life by mere words.
[1362] 8. What! To prolong our lives shall we thus submit to the rule of those defilers of the house?
[1364] 9. No, it is not to be endured. No, death would be better, for that would be a milder lot than tyranny.
[1366] 10. And shall we, upon the evidence of mere groans, divine that our lord is dead?
[1368] 11. We should be sure of the facts before we indulge our wrath. For surmise differs from assurance.
[1370] 12. I am supported on all sides to approve this course — that we get clear assurance how it stands with Atreus’ son.
[The bodies of Agamemnon and Cassandra are disclosed; the queen stands by their side.]
CLYTAEMESTRA
[1372] Much have I said before to serve my need and I shall feel no shame to contradict it now. For how else could one, devising hate against a hated foe who bears the semblance of a friend, fence the snares of ruin too high to be overleaped? This is the contest of an ancient feud, pondered by me of old, and it has come, however long delayed. I stand where I dealt the blow; my purpose is achieved. Thus have I done the deed; deny it I will not. Round him, as if to catch a haul of fish, I cast an impassable net — fatal wealth of robe — so that he should neither escape nor ward off doom. Twice I struck him, and with two groans his limbs relaxed. Once he had fallen, I dealt him yet a third stroke to grace my prayer to the infernal Zeus, the savior of the dead. Fallen thus, he gasped away his life, and as he breathed forth quick spurts of blood, he struck me with dark drops of gory dew; while I rejoiced no less than the sown earth is gladdened in heaven’s refreshing rain at the birthtime of the flower buds.
[1393] Since then the case stands thus, old men of Argos, rejoice, if you would rejoice; as for me, I glory in the deed. And had it been a fitting act to pour libations on the corpse, over him this would have been done justly, more than justly. With so many accursed lies has he filled the mixing-bowl in his own house, and now he has come home and himself drained it to the dregs.
CHORUS
[1399] We are shocked at your tongue, how bold-mouthed you are, that over your husband you can utter such a boastful speech.
CLYTAEMESTRA
[1401] You are testing me as if I were a witless woman. But my heart does not quail, and I say to you who know it well — and whether you wish to praise or to blame me, it is all one — here is Agamemnon, my husband, now a corpse, the work of this right hand, a just workman. So stands the case.
CHORUS
[1407] Woman, what poisonous herb nourished by the earth have you tast
ed, what potion drawn from the flowing sea, that you have taken upon yourself this maddened rage and the loud curses voiced by the public? You have cast him off; you have cut him off; and out from the land shall you be cast, a burden of hatred to your people.
CLYTAEMESTRA
[1412] It’s now that you would doom me to exile from the land, to the hatred of my people and the execration of the public voice; though then you had nothing to urge against him that lies here. And yet he, valuing no more than if it had been a beast that perished — though sheep were plenty in his fleecy folds — he sacrificed his own child, she whom I bore with dearest travail, to charm the blasts of Thrace. Is it not he whom you should have banished from this land in requital for his polluting deed? No! When you arraign what I have done, you are a stern judge. Well, I warn you: threaten me thus on the understanding that I am prepared, conditions equal, to let you lord it over me if you shall vanquish me by force. But if a god shall bring the contrary to pass, you shall learn discretion though taught the lesson late.
CHORUS
[1426] You are proud of spirit, and your speech is overbearing. Even as your mind is maddened by your deed of blood, upon your face a stain of blood shows full plain to behold. Bereft of all honor, forsaken of your friends, you shall hereafter atone for stroke with stroke,
CLYTAEMESTRA
[1431] Listen then to this too, this the righteous sanction on my oath: by Justice, exacted for my child, by Ate, by the Avenging Spirit, to whom I sacrificed that man, hope does not tread for me the halls of fear, so long as the fire upon my hearth is kindled by Aegisthus, loyal in heart to me as in days gone by. For he is no slight shield of confidence to me. Here lies the man who did me wrong, plaything of each Chryseis at Ilium; and here she lies, his captive, and auguress, and concubine, his oracular faithful whore, yet equally familiar with the seamen’s benches. The pair has met no undeserved fate. For he lies thus; while she, who, like a swan, has sung her last lament in death, lies here, his beloved; but to me she has brought for my bed an added relish of delight.
CHORUS
[1448] Alas! Ah that some fate, free from excess of suffering, nor yet with lingering bed of pain, might come full soon and bring to us everlasting and endless sleep, now that our most gracious guardian has been laid low, who in a woman’s cause had much endured and by a woman’s hand has lost his life.