Complete Works of Euripides

by Euripides

MENELAUS. Away with thee! thou art too faithful to thy masters.

  OLD M. An honorable rebuke thou hast rebuked me with!

  MEN. To thy cost shall it be, if thou dost that thou shouldst not do.

  OLD M. You have no right to open the letter which I was carrying.

  MEN. Nor shouldst thou bear ills to all the Greeks.

  OLD M. Contest this point with others, but give up this [letter] to me.

  MEN. I will not let it go.

  OLD M. Nor will I let it go.

  MEN. Then quickly with my sceptre will I make thine head bloody.

  OLD M. But glorious it is to die for one’s masters.

  MEN. Let go. Being a slave, thou speakest too many words.

  OLD M. O master, I am wronged, and this man, having snatched thy letter out of my hands, O Agamemnon, is unwilling to act rightly.

  MEN. Ah! what is this tumult and disorder of words?

  OLD M. My words, not his, are fittest to speak.

  AG. But wherefore, Menelaus, dost thou come to strife with this man and art dragging him by force?

  MEN. Look at me, that I may take this commencement of my speech.

  AG. What, shall I through fear not open mine eyelids, being born of Atreus?

  MEN. Seest thou this letter, the minister of writings most vile?

  AG. I see it, and do thou first let it go from thy hands.

  MEN. Not, at least, before I show to the Greeks what is written therein.

  AG. What, knowest thou what ’tis unseasonable thou shouldst know, having broken the seal?

  MEN. Ay, so as to pain thee, having unfolded the ills thou hast wrought privily.

  AG. But where didst thou obtain it? O Gods, for thy shameless heart!

  MEN. Expecting thy daughter from Argos, whether she will come to the army.

  AG. What behooves thee to keep watch upon my affairs? Is not this the act of a shameless man?

  MEN. Because the will [to do so] teased me, and I am not born thy slave.

  AG. Is it not dreadful? Shall I not be suffered to be master of my own family?

  MEN. For thou thinkest inconsistently, now one thing, before another, another thing presently.

  AG. Well hast thou talked evil. Hateful is a too clever tongue.

  MEN. But an unstable mind is an unjust thing to possess, and not clear for friends. I wish to expostulate with thee, but do not thou in wrath turn away from the truth, nor will I speak overlong. Thou knowest when thou wast making interest to be leader of the Greeks against Troy — in seeming indeed not wishing it, but wishing it in will — how humble thou wast, taking hold of every right hand, and keeping open doors to any of the people that wished, and giving audience to all in turn even if one wished it not, seeking by manners to purchase popularity among the multitude. But when you obtained the power, changing to different manners, you were no longer the same friend as before to your old friends, difficult of access, and rarely within doors. But it behooves not a man who has met with great fortune to change his manners, but then chiefly to be firm toward his friends, when he is best able to benefit them, being prosperous. I have first gone over these charges against thee, in which I first found thee base. But when thou afterward camest into Aulis and to the army of all the Greeks, thou wast naught, but wast in stupefaction at the fortune which then befell us from the Gods, lacking a favorable breeze for the journey. But the Greeks demanded that you should dismiss the ships, and not toil vainly at Aulis. But how cheerless and distressed a countenance you wore, because you were not able to land your army at Priam’s land, having a thousand ships under command. And thou besoughtest me, “What shall I do?” “But what resource shall I find from whence?” so that thou mightest not lose an ill renown, being deprived of the command. And then, when Calchas o’er the victims said that thou must sacrifice thy daughter to Diana, and that there would [then] be means of sailing for the Greeks, delighted in heart, you gladly promised to sacrifice your child, and of your own accord, not by compulsion — do not say so — you send to your wife to convoy your daughter hither, on a pretext of being wedded to Achilles. And then changing [your mind] you are caught altering to other writings, to the effect that you will not now be the slayer of your daughter. Very pretty, forsooth! This is the same air which heard these very protestations from thee. But innumerable men experience this in their affairs; they persevere in labor when in power, and then make a bad result, sometimes through the foolish mind of the citizens, but sometimes with reason, themselves becoming incapable of preserving the state, I indeed chiefly groan for hapless Greece, who, wishing to work some doughty deed against these good-for-nothing barbarians, will let them, laughing at us, slip through her hands, on account of thee and thy daughter. I would not make any one ruler of the land for the sake of necessity, nor chieftain of armed men. It behooves the general of the state to possess sense, for every man is a ruler who possesses sense.

  CHOR. ’Tis dreadful for words and strife to happen between brothers, when they fall into dispute.

  AG. I wish to address thee in evil terms, but mildly, in brief, not uplifting mine eyelids too much aloft through insolence, but moderately, as being my brother. For a good man is wont to show respect [to others.] Tell me, why dost thou burst forth thus violently, having thy face suffused with rage? Who wrongs thee? What lackest thou? Wouldst fain gain a good wife! I can not supply thee, for thou didst ill rule over the one you possessed. Must I therefore pay the penalty of your mismanagement, who have made no mistake? Or does my ambition annoy thee? But wouldst thou fain hold in thine arms a fair woman, forgetting discretion and honor? Evil pleasures belong to an evil man. But if I, having before resolved ill, have changed to good counsel, am I mad? Rather art thou [mad,] who, having lost a bad wife, desirest to recover her, when God has well prospered thy fortune. The nuptial-craving suitors in their folly swore the oath to Tyndarus, but hope, I ween, was their God, and wrought this more than thyself and thy strength. Whom taking make thou the expedition, but I think thou wilt know [that it is] through the folly of their hearts, for the divinity is not ignorant, but is capable of discerning oaths ill plighted and perforce. But I will not slay my children, so that thy state will in justice be well, revenge upon the worst of wives, but nights and days will waste me away in tears, having wrought lawless, unjust deeds against the children whom I begat. These words are briefly spoken to thee, both plain and easy, but if thou art unwilling to be wise, I will arrange my own affairs well.

  CHOR. These words are different from those before spoken, but they are to a good effect, that the children be spared.

  MEN. Alas! alas! have I then wretched no friends?

  AG. [Yes, you have,] at least, if you do not wish to ruin your friends.

  MEN. But how will you show that you are born of the same sire with me?

  AG. I am born to be wise with you, not foolish.

  MEN. It behooves friends to grieve in common with friends.

  AG. Admonish me by well doing, not by paining me.

  MEN. Dost thou not then think fit to toil through this with Greece?

  AG. But Greece, with thee, is sickening through some deity.

  MEN. Vaunt then on thy sceptre, having betrayed thy brother. But I will seek some other schemes, and other friends.

  [Enter a Messenger.]

  MESSENGER. O Agamemnon, king of all the Greeks, I am come, bringing thy daughter to thee, whom thou didst name Iphigenia in thy palace. But her mother follows, the person of thy [wife] Clytæmnestra, and the boy Orestes, that thou mayest be pleased at the sight, being away from thine home a long season. But as they have come a long way, they and their mares are refreshing their female feet by the fair-flowing fountain, and we let loose the mares in a grassy meadow, that they might taste fodder. But I am come before them to prepare you [for their reception,] for a swift report passed through the army, that thy daughter had arrived. And all the multitude comes out hastily to the spectacle, that they may behold thy child. For prosperous men are renowned and conspicuous among all m
ortals. And they say, “Is there a marriage on foot? or what is going on?” Or, “Has king Agamemnon, having a yearning after his daughter, brought his child hither?” But from some you would have heard this: “They are initiating the damsel in honor of Artemis, queen of Aulis, who will marry her.” But come, get ready the baskets, which come next, crown thine head. And do thou, king Menelaus, prepare a nuptial lay, and through the house let the pipe sound and let there be noise of feet, for this day comes blessed upon the virgin.

  AG. I commend [your words,] but go thou within the house, and it shall be well, as fortune takes its course. Alas! what shall I wretched say? Whence shall I begin? Into what fetters of necessity have I fallen! Fortune has upturned me, so as to become far too clever for my cleverness. But lowness of birth has some advantage thus. For such persons are at liberty to weep, and speak unhappy words, but to him that is of noble birth, all these things belong. We have our dignity as ruler of our life, and are slaves to the multitude. For I am ashamed indeed to let fall the tear, yet again wretched am I ashamed not to weep, having come into the greatest calamities. Well! what shall I say to my wife? How shall I receive her? What manner of countenance shall I present? And truly she hath undone me, coming uncalled amidst the ills which before possessed me. And with reason did she follow her daughter, being about to deck her as a bride, and to perform the dearest offices, where she will find us base. But for this hapless virgin — why [call her] virgin? Hades, as it seems, will speedily attend on her nuptials, — how do I pity her! For I think that she will beseech me thus: O father, wilt thou slay me? Such a wedding mayest thou thyself wed, and whosoever is a friend to thee. But Orestes being present will cry out knowingly words not knowing, for he is yet an infant. Alas! how has Priam’s son, Paris, undone me by wedding the nuptials of Paris, who has wrought this!

  CHOR. And I also pity her, as it becomes a stranger woman to moan for the misfortune of her lords.

  MEN. Brother, give me thy right hand to touch.

  AG. I give it, for thine is the power, but I am wretched.

  MEN. I swear by Pelops, who was called the sire of my father and thine, and my father Atreus, that I indeed will tell thee plainly from my heart, and not any thing out of contrivance, but only what I think. I, beholding thee letting fall the tear from thine eyes, pitied thee, and myself let fall [a tear] for thee in return. And I have changed my old determinations, not being wrath against you, but I will place myself in your present situation, and I recommend you neither to slay your child, nor to take my part; for it is not just that thou shouldst groan, but my affairs be in a pleasant state, and that thine should die, but mine behold the light. For what do I wish? Might I not obtain another choice alliance, if I crave nuptials? But, having undone my brother, whom it least behooved me, shall I receive Helen, an evil in place of a good? I was foolish and young, before that, viewing the matter closely, I saw what it is to beget children. Besides, pity came over me, considering our connection, for the hapless girl, who is about to be sacrificed because of my marriage. But what has thy virgin [daughter] to do with Helen? Let the army go, being disbanded from Aulis. But cease thou bedewing thine eyes with tears, my brother, and exciting me to tears. But if I have any concern in the oracle respecting thy daughter, let me have none: to thee I yield my part. But I have come to a change from terrible resolutions. I have experienced what was meet. I have changed to regard him who is sprung from a common source. Such changes belong not to a bad man, [viz.] to follow the best always.

  CHOR. Thou hast spoken generous words, and becoming Tantalus the son of Jove. Thou disgracest not thine ancestors.

  AG. I commend thee, Menelaus, in that, contrary to my expectation, you have subjoined these words, rightly, and worthily of thee.

  MEN. A certain disturbance between brothers arises on account of love, and avarice in their houses. I abhor such a relationship, mutually sore.

  AG. But [consider,] for we are come into circumstances that render it necessary to accomplish the bloody slaughter of my daughter.

  MEN. How? Who will compel thee to slay thy child?

  AG. The whole assembly of the armament of the Greeks.

  MEN. Not so, if at least thou dismiss it back to Argos.

  AG. In this matter I might escape discovery, but in that I can not.

  MEN. What? One should not too much fear the multitude.

  AG. Calchas will proclaim his prophecy to the army of the Greeks.

  MEN. Not if he die first — and this is easy.

  AG. The whole race of seers is an ambitious ill.

  MEN. And in naught good or profitable, when at hand.

  AG. But dost thou not fear that which occurs to me?

  MEN. How can I understand the word you say not?

  AG. The son of Sisyphus knows all these matters.

  MEN. It can not be that Orestes can pain thee and me.

  AG. He is ever changeable, and with the multitude.

  MEN. He is indeed possessed with the passion for popularity, a dreadful evil.

  AG. Do you not then think that he, standing in the midst of the Greeks, will tell the oracles which Calchas pronounced, and of me, that I promised to offer a sacrifice to Diana, and then break my word. With which [words] having carried away the army, he will bid the Greeks slay thee and me, and sacrifice the damsel. And if I flee to Argos, they will come and ravage and raze the land, Cyclopean walls and all. Such are my troubles. O unhappy me! How, by the Gods, am I at a loss in these present matters! Take care of one thing for me, Menelaus, going through the army, that Clytæmnestra may not learn these matters, before I take and offer my daughter to Hades, that I may fare ill with as few tears as possible. But do ye, O stranger women, preserve silence.

  CHORUS. Blest are they who share the nuptial bed of the Goddess Aphrodite, when she is moderate, and with modesty, obtaining a calm from the maddening stings, when Love with his golden locks stretches his twin bow of graces, the one for a prosperous fate, the other for the upturning of life. I deprecate this [bow,] O fairest Venus, from our beds, but may mine be a moderate grace, and holy endearments, and may I share Aphrodite, but reject her when excessive. But the natures of mortals are different, and their manners are different, but that which is clearly good is ever plain. And the education which trains [men] up, conduces greatly to virtue, for to have reverence is wisdom, and it possesses an equivalent advantage, viz. to perceive what is fitting by one’s mind, where report bears unwasting glory to life. ’Tis a great thing to hunt for [the praise of] virtue, among women indeed, by a secret affection, but among men, on the other hand, honor being inherent, [bears that praise, honor,] which increases a state to an incalculable extent.

  Thou earnest, O Paris, †where thou wast trained up a shepherd with the white heifers of Ida, trilling a barbarian lay, breathing an imitation of the Phrygian pipes of Olympus on a reed. And the cows with their well-filled udders browsed, when the judgment of the Goddesses drove thee mad, which sends thee into Greece,† before the ivory-decked palaces, thou who didst strike love into the eyes of Helen which were upon thee, and thyself wast fluttered with love. Whence strife, strife brings Greece against the bulwarks of Troy with spears and ships.† Alas! alas! great are the fortunes of the great. Behold the king’s daughter, Iphigenia, my queen, and Clytæmnestra, daughter of Tyndarus, how are they sprung from the great, and to what suitable fortune they are come. The powerful, in sooth, and the wealthy, are Gods to those of mortals who are unblest. [Let us stand still, ye children of Chalcis, let us receive the queen from her chariot to the earth, not unsteadily, but gently with the soft attention of our hands, lest the renowned daughter of Agamemnon, newly coming to me, be alarmed, nor let us, as strangers to strangers, cause disturbance or fear to the Argive ladies.]

  [Enter Clytæmnestra, IPHIGENIA, and probably ORESTES in a chariot. They descend from it, while the Chorus make obeisance.]

  CLY. I regard both your kindness and your favorable words as a good omen, and I have some hope that I am here as escort [of my daugh
ter] to honorable nuptials. But take out of my chariot the dower-gifts which I bear for my girl, and send them carefully into the house. And do thou, my child, quit the horse-chariot, setting [carefully] thy foot delicate and at the same time tender. But you, maidens, receive her in your arms, and lift her from the chariot. And let some one give me the firm support of his hand, that I may beseemingly leave the chariot-seat. But do some of you stand in front of the horses’ yoke, for the uncontrolled eye of horses is timorous, and take this boy, the son of Agamemnon, Orestes, for he is still an infant. Child! dost sleep, overcome by the ride? Wake up happily for thy sisters’ nuptials. For thou thyself being noble shalt obtain relationship with a good man, the God-like son of the daughter of Nereus. [Next come thou close to my foot, O daughter, to thy mother, Iphigenia, and standing near, show these strangers how happy I am, and come hither indeed, and address thy dear father.] O thou most great glory to me, king Agamemnon, we are come, not disobeying thy bidding.

  IPH. O mother, running indeed, (but be thou not angry,) I will apply my breast to my father’s breast. [But I wish, rushing to embrace thy breast, O father, after a long season. For I long for thy face. But do not be angry.]

  CLY. But, O my child, enjoy [thine embraces,] but thou wert ever most fond of thy father, of all the children I bore.

  IPH. O father, joyous do I behold thee after a long season.

  AG. And I, thy father, [joyously behold] thee. Thou speakest thus equally in respect to both.

  IPH. Hail! But well hast thou done in bringing me to thee, O father.

  AG. I know not how I shall say, yet not say so, my child.

  IPH. Ah! how uneasily dost thou regard me, joyfully beholding me [before.]

  AG. A king and general has many cares.

  IPH. Give thyself up to me now, and turn not thyself to cares.

  AG. But I am altogether concerned with thee, and on no other subject.

  IPH. Relax thy brow, and open thy eyes in joy.

  AG. See, I rejoice as I rejoice, at seeing thee, child.

  IPH. And then dost let fall a tear from thine eyes?