Complete Works of Euripides

by Euripides

ACH. Dost see these men bearing [my] arms?

  CLY. Mayest thou gain by thy good intentions.

  ACH. But I will gain.

  CLY. Then my child will not be slain?

  ACH. Not, at least, with my consent.

  CLY. And will any one come to lay hands on the girl?

  ACH. Ay, a host of them, but Ulysses will conduct her.

  CLY. Will it be the descendant of Sisyphus?

  ACH. The very man.

  CLY. Doing it of his own accord, or appointed by the army?

  ACH. Chosen willingly.

  CLY. A wicked choice forsooth, to commit slaughter!

  ACH. But I will restrain him.

  CLY. But will he lead her unwillingly, having seized her?

  ACH. Ay, by her auburn locks.

  CLY. But what must I then do?

  ACH. Keep hold of your daughter.

  CLY. As far as this goes she shall not be slain.

  ACH. But it will come to this at all events.

  IPH. Mother, do thou hear my words, for I perceive that thou art vainly wrathful with thy husband, but it is not easy for us to struggle with things [almost] impossible. It is meet therefore to praise our friend for his willingness, but it behooves thee also to see that you be not an object of reproach to the army, and we profit nothing more, and he meet with calamity. But hear me, mother, thinking upon what has entered my mind. I have determined to die, and this I would fain do gloriously, I mean, by dismissing all ignoble thoughts. Come hither, mother, consider with me how well I speak. Greece, the greatest of cities, is now all looking upon me, and there rests in me both the passage of the ships and the destruction of Troy, and, for the women hereafter, if the barbarians do them aught of harm, to allow them no longer to carry them off from prosperous Greece, having avenged the destruction of Helen, whom Paris bore away. All these things I dying shall redeem, and my renown, for that I have freed Greece, will be blessed. Moreover, it is not right that I should be too fond of life; for thou hast brought me forth for the common good of Greece, not for thyself only. But shall ten thousand men armed with bucklers, and ten thousand, oars in hand, their country being injured, dare to do some deed against the foes, and perish on behalf of Greece, while my life, being but one, shall hinder all these things? What manner of justice is this? Have we a word to answer? And let me come to this point: it is not meet that this man should come to strife with all the Greeks for the sake of a woman, nor lose his life. And one man, forsooth, is better than ten thousand women, that he should behold the light. But if Diana hath wished to receive my body, shall I, being mortal, become an opponent to the Goddess! But it can not be. I give my body for Greece. Sacrifice it, and sack Troy. For this for a long time will be my memorial, and this my children, my wedding, and my glory. But it is meet that Greeks should rule over barbarians, O mother, but not barbarians over Greeks, for the one is slavish, but the others are free.

  CHOR. Thy part, indeed, O virgin, is glorious; but the work of fortune and of the Gods sickens.

  ACH. Daughter of Agamemnon, some one of the Gods destined me to happiness, if I obtained thee as a wife, and I envy Greece on thy account, and thee on account of Greece. For well hast thou spoken this, and worthily of the country, for, ceasing to strive with the deity, who is more powerful than thou art, thou hast considered what is good and useful. But still more does a desire of thy union enter my mind, when I look to thy nature, for thou art noble. But consider, for I wish to benefit you, and to receive you to my home, and, Thetis be my witness, I am grieved if I shall not save you, coming to conflict with the Greeks. Consider: death is a terrible ill.

  IPH. I speak these words, no others, with due foresight. Enough is the daughter of Tyndarus to have caused contests and slaughter of men through her person: but do not thou, O stranger, die in my behalf, nor slay any one. But let me preserve Greece, if I am able.

  ACH. O best of spirits, I have naught further to answer thee, since it seems thus to thee, for thou hast noble thoughts; for wherefore should not one tell the truth? But nevertheless thou mayest perchance repent these things. In order, therefore, that thou mayest all that lies in my power, I will go and place these my arms near the altar, as I will not allow you to die, but hinder it. And thou too wilt perhaps be of my opinion, when thou seest the sword nigh to thy neck. I will not allow thee to die through thy wild determination, but going with these mine arms to the temple of the Goddess, I will await thy presence there.

  IPH. Mother, why dost thou silently bedew thine eyes with tears?

  CLY. I wretched have a reason, so as to be pained at heart.

  IPH. Cease; do not daunt me, but obey me in this.

  CLY. Speak, for thou shalt not be wronged at my hands, my child.

  IPH. Neither then do thou cut off the locks of thine hair, [nor put on black garments around thy body.]

  CLY. Wherefore sayest thou this, my child? Having lost thee —

  IPH. Not you indeed — I am saved, and thou wilt be glorious as far as I am concerned.

  CLY. How sayest thou? Must I not bemoan thy life?

  IPH. Not in the least, since no tomb will be upraised for me.

  CLY. Why, what then is death? Is not a tomb customary?

  IPH. The altar of the Goddess, daughter of Jove, will be my memorial.

  CLY. But, O child, I will obey thee, for thou speakest well.

  IPH. Ay, as prospering like the benefactress of Greece.

  CLY. What then shall I tell thy sisters?

  IPH. Neither do thou clothe them in black garments.

  CLY. But shall I speak any kind message from thee to the virgins?

  IPH. Ay, [bid them] fare well, and do thou, for my sake, train up this [boy] Orestes to be a man.

  CLY. Embrace him, beholding him for the last time.

  IPH. O dearest one, thou hast assisted thy friends to the utmost in thy power.

  CLY. Can I, by doing any thing in Argos, do thee a pleasure?

  IPH. Hate not my father, yes, thy husband.

  CLY. He needs shall go through terrible trials on thy account.

  IPH. Unwillingly he hath undone me on behalf of the land of Greece.

  CLY. But ungenerously, by craft, and not in a manner worthy of Atreus.

  IPH. Who will come and lead me, before I am torn away by the hair?

  CLY. I will go with thee.

  IPH. Not you indeed, thou sayest not well.

  CLY. Ay [but I will,] clinging to thy garments.

  IPH. Be persuaded by me, mother. Remain, for this is more fitting both for me and thee. But let some one of these my father’s followers conduct me to the meadow of Diana, where I may be sacrificed.

  CLY. O child, thou art going.

  IPH. Ay, and I shall ne’er return.

  CLY. Leaving thy mother —

  IPH. As thou seest, though, not worthily.

  CLY. Hold! Do not leave me.

  IPH. I do not suffer thee to shed tears. But, ye maidens, raise aloft the pæan for my sad hap, [celebrate] Diana, the daughter of Jove, and let the joyful strain go forth to the Greeks. And let some one make ready the baskets, and let flame burn with the purifying cakes, and let my father serve the altar with his right hand, seeing I am going to bestow upon the Greeks safety that produces victory.

  Conduct me, the conqueror of the cities of Troy and of the Phrygians. Surround me with crowns, bring them hither. Here is my hair to crown. And [bear hither] the lustral fountains. Encircle [with dances] around the temple and the altar, Diana, queen Diana, the blessed, since by my blood and offering I will wash out her oracles, if it needs must be so. O revered, revered mother, thus † indeed † will we [now] afford thee our tears, for it is not fitting during the sacred rites. O damsels, join in singing Diana, who dwells opposite Chalcis, where the warlike ships have been eager [to set out,] being detained in the narrow harbors of Aulis here through my name. Alas! O my mother-land of Pelasgia, and my Mycenian handmaids.

  CHOR. Dost thou call upon the city of Perseus, the work of the Cyclopean h
ands?

  IPH. Thou hast nurtured me for a glory to Greece, and I will not refuse to die.

  CHOR. For renown will not fail thee.

  IPH. Alas! alas! lamp-bearing day, and thou too, beam of Jove, another, another life and state shall we dwell in. Farewell for me, beloved light!

  CHOR. Alas! alas! Behold the destroyer of the cities of Troy and of the Phrygians, wending her way, decked as to her head with garlands and with lustral streams, to the altar of the sanguinary Goddess, about to stream with drops of gore, being stricken on her fair neck. Fair dewy streams, and lustral waters from ancestral sources await thee, and the host of the Greeks eager to reach Troy. But let us celebrate Diana, the daughter of Jove, queen of the Gods, as upon a prosperous occasion. O hallowed one, that rejoicest in human sacrifices, send the army of the Greeks into the land of the Phrygians, and the territory of deceitful Troy, and grant that by Grecian spears Agamemnon may place a most glorious crown upon his head, a glory ever to be remembered.

  [Enter a MESSENGER.]

  MESS. O daughter of Tyndarus, Clytæmnestra, come without the house, that thou mayest hear my words.

  CLY. Hearing thy voice, I wretched came hither, terrified and astounded with fear, lest thou shouldst be come, bearing some new calamity to me in addition to the present one.

  MESS. Concerning thy daughter, then, I wish to tell thee marvelous and fearful things.

  CLY. Then delay not, but speak as quickly as possible.

  MESS. But, my dear mistress, thou shalt learn every thing clearly, and I will speak from the very commencement, unless my memory, in something failing, deceive my tongue. For when we came to the inclosure and flowery meads of Diana, the daughter of Jove, where there was an assembly of the army of the Greeks, leading thy daughter, the host of the Greeks was straightway convened. But when king Agamemnon beheld the girl wending her way to the grove for slaughter, he groaned aloud, and turning back his head, he shed tears, placing his garments before his eyes. But she, standing near him that begot her, spake thus: “O father, I am here for thee, and I willing give my body on behalf of my country, and of the whole land of Greece, that, leading it to the altar of the Goddess, they may sacrifice it, since this is ordained. And, as far as I am concerned, may ye be fortunate, and obtain the gift of victory, and reach your native land. Furthermore, let no one of the Greeks lay hands on me, for with a stout heart I will present my neck in silence.” Thus much she spoke, and every one marveled on hearing the courage and valor of the virgin. But Talthybius, whose office this was, standing in the midst, proclaimed good-omened silence to the people. And the seer Calchas placed in a golden canister a sharp knife, which he had drawn out,† within its case,† and crowned the head of the girl. But the son of Peleus ran around the altar of the Goddess, taking the canister and lustral waters at the same time. And he said: “O Diana, beast-slaying daughter of Jove, that revolvest thy brilliant light by night, receive this offering which we bestow on thee, [we] the army of the Greeks, and king Agamemnon, the pure blood from a fair virgin’s neck; and grant that the sail may be without injury to our ships, and that we may take the towers of Troy by the spear.” But the Atrides and all the army stood looking on the ground, and the priest, taking the knife, prayed, and viewed her neck, that he might find a place to strike. And no little pity entered my mind, and I stood with eyes cast down, but suddenly there was a marvel to behold. For every one could clearly perceive the sound of the blow, but beheld not the virgin, where on earth she had vanished. But the priest exclaimed, and the whole army shouted, beholding an unexpected prodigy from some one of the Gods, of which, though seen, they had scarcely belief. For a stag lay panting on the ground, of mighty size to see and beautiful in appearance, with whose blood the altar of the Goddess was abundantly wetted. And upon this Calchas (think with what joy!) thus spake: “O leaders of this common host of the Greeks, behold this victim which the Goddess hath brought to her altar, a mountain-roaming stag. This she prefers greatly to the virgin, lest her altar should be denied with generous blood. And she hath willingly received this, and grants us a prosperous sail, and attack upon Troy. Upon this do every sailor take good courage, and go to his ships, since on this day it behooves us, quitting the hollow recesses of Aulis, to pass over the Ægean wave.” But when the whole victim was reduced to ashes, he prayed what was meet, that the army might obtain a passage. And Agamemnon sends me to tell thee this, and to say what a fortune he hath met with from the Gods, and hath obtained unwaning glory through Greece. But I speak, having been present, and witnessing the matter. Thy child has evidently flown to the Gods; away then with grief, and cease wrath against your husband. But the will of the Gods is unforeseen by mortals, and them they love, they save. For this day hath beheld thy daughter dying and living [in turn.]

  CHOR. How delighted am I at hearing this from the messenger; but he says that thy daughter living abides among the Gods.

  CLY. O daughter, of whom of the Gods art thou the theft? How shall I address thee? What shall I say that these words do not offer me a vain comfort, that I may cease from my mournful grief on thy account?

  CHOR. And truly king Agamemnon draws hither, having this same story to tell thee.

  [Enter AGAMEMNON.]

  AG. Lady, as far as thy daughter is concerned, we may be happy, for she really possesses a companionship with the Gods. But it behooves thee, taking this young child [Orestes,] to go home, for the army is looking toward setting sail. And fare thee well, long hence will be my addresses to thee from Troy, and may it be well with thee.

  CHOR. Atrides, rejoicing go thou to the land of the Phrygians, and rejoicing return, having obtained for me most glorious spoils from Troy.

  RHESUS

  Translated by Gilbert Murray

  Of unknown date, the play Rhesus takes place during the Trojan War, on the night when Odysseus and Diomedes steal into the Trojan camp, as previously recounted in Book 10 of Homer’s Iliad. There has been much debate about the genuine authorship of this tragedy, which was originally understood to be by Euripides in the Hellenistic, Imperial and Byzantine periods, but by the seventeenth century the play’s authenticity was challenged largely on stylistic grounds. However, modern scholars now agree with the classical authorities, ascribing the play to Euripides.

  The play opens in the middle of the night, as Trojan guards discern suspicious activity from the Greek camp. They promptly inform Hector, who almost issues a general call to arms before Aeneas makes him see how ill-advised this would be. Aeneas argues that they should send someone to spy on the Greek camp and see what the enemy is doing. Dolon volunteers to spy on the Greeks in exchange for Achilles’ horses when the war is won. Hector accepts the arrangement and sends him out. Dolon leaves wearing the skin of a wolf, and plans to deceive the Greeks by walking on all fours.

  At this point Rhesus, the neighbouring king of Thrace, arrives to assist the Trojans. Hector berates him for coming so many years late, though he ultimately accepts the new ally. Rhesus says he intended on coming in the beginning, but was preoccupied defending his own land from an attack by the Scythians. However, Rhesus’ involvement in the war turns out to be much shorter than he had expected, following a surprise night attack.

  Odysseus and Diomedes stealing Rhesus’ horses, red-figure situla by the Lycurgus Painter, c. 360 BC.

  CONTENTS

  CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY

  RHESUS

  Odysseus and Diomedes stealing the horses of Rhesus, as depicted on an Apulian red-figure krater, c. 340 BC

  CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY

  Hector, Prince of Îlion and General of the Trojan Armies.

  Aenêas, a Trojan Prince.

  Dolon, a Trojan.

  Paris, also called Alexander, brother of Hector.

  Rhêsus, King of Thrace, son of the River Strŷmon and the Muse of the Mountains.

  A Thracian, the King’s charioteer.

  Odysseus, a Greek chieftain, famous for craft and daring.

  Diomêdês, a Greek chieftai
n, famous for valour.

  A Shepherd.

  The Goddess Athêna.

  The Muse of the Mountains.

  Chorus of Trojan Guards with their Leader.

  Some Thracians with their Captain, Attendants, &c.

  The date and authorship of the play are unknown; it probably belongs to the Fifth Century B.C., and is attributed to Euripides.

  RHESUS

  It is a cloudy but moonlight night on the plain before Troy. The Trojans and their allies have won a decisive victory and are camping on the open field close to the Greek outposts. The scene is in front of a rude tent or hut that has been set up for Hector, the Trojan leader. A watch-fire burns low in front. Far off at the back can be seen rows of watch-fires in the Greek camp. The road to Troy is in front to the left; the road to Mount Ida leads far away to the right.

  All is silence; then a noise outside. Enter tumultuously a band of Trojan Pickets.

  Various Voices.

  (The dash — in these passages indicates a new speaker.)

  On to the Prince’s quarters! — Ho!

  Who is awake? What man-at-arms,

  Or squire or groom? — Let Hector know

  New rumour of alarms

  From sentinels who stand at mark

  The four long watches of the dark,

  While others sleep. — Uplift thine head,

  O Hector! On thine elbow rise,

  Unhood the eagle of thine eyes,

  Up from thy leaf-strewn bed! —

  Lord Hector!

  Hector (coming out from the tent).

  Who goes there? Who cries?

  A friend? The watchword! . . . By what right

  Do men come prowling in the night

  Across my quarters? Come! Speak out.

  Leader.

  A picket, Lord.

  Hector.

  In such a rout?

  Leader.

  Be not afraid, Lord.

  Hector.

  I am not.

  Is there an ambush? No? Then what,