Part 18

KlLISSA She bids him bring a spear-armed body-guard.

CHORUS Nay, tell not that unto our loathèd lord, But speed to him, put on the mien of joy, Say, Come along, fear nought, the news is good: A bearer can tell straight a twisted tale.

KILISSA Does then thy mind in this new tale find joy?

CHORUS What if Zeus bid our ill wind veer to fair?

KILISSA And how? the home’s hope with Orestes dies.

CHORUS Not yet—a seer, though feeble, this might see.

KILISSA What say’st thou? Know’st thou aught, this tale belying?

CHORUS Go, tell the news to him, perform thine hest,— What the gods will, themselves can well provide.

KILISSA Well, I will go, herein obeying thee; And luck fall fair, with favour sent from heaven.

CHORUS Zeus, sire of them who on Olympus dwell, Hear thou, O hear my prayer! Grant to my rightful lords to prosper well Even as their zeal is fair! For right, for right goes up aloud my cry— Zeus, aid him, stand anigh!

Into his father’s hall he goes To smite his father’s foes. Bid him prevail! by thee on throne of triumph set, Twice, yea and thrice with joy shall he acquit the debt.

Bethink thee, the young steed, the orphan foal Of sire beloved by thee, unto the car Of doom is harnessed fast. Guide him aright, plant firm a lasting goal, Speed thou his pace,—O that no chance may mar The homeward course, the last!

And ye who dwell within the inner chamber Where shines the storèd joy of gold— Gods of one heart, O hear ye, and remember; Up and avenge the blood shed forth of old, With sudden rightful blow; Then let the old curse die, nor be renewed With progeny of blood,— Once more, and not again, be latter guilt laid low!

O thou who dwell’st in Delphi’s mighty cave, Grant us to see this home once more restored Unto its rightful lord! Let it look forth, from veils of death, with joyous eye Unto the dawning light of liberty; And Hermes, Maia’s child, lend hand to save, Willing the right, and guide Our state with Fortune’s breeze adown the favouring tide. Whate’er in darkness hidden lies, He utters at his will; He at his will throws darkness on our eye By night and eke by day inscrutable.

Then, then shall wealth atone The ills that here were done. Then, then will we unbind, Fling free on wafting wind Of joy, the woman’s voice that waileth now In piercing accents for a chief laid low; And this our song shall be— Hail to the commonwealth restored! Hail to the freedom won to me! All hail! for doom hath passed from him, my well-loved lord!

And thou, O child, when Time and Chance agree, Up to the deed that for thy sire is done! And if she wail unto thee, Spare, O son— Cry, Aid, O father—and achieve the deed, The horror of man’s tongue, the gods’ great need! Hold in thy breast such heart as Perseus had, The bitter woe work forth, Appease the summons of the dead, The wrath of friends on earth; Yea, set within a sign of blood and doom, And do to utter death him that pollutes thy home.

AEGISTHUS Hither and not unsummoned have I come; For a new rumour, borne by stranger men Arriving hither, hath attained mine ears, Of hap unwished-for, even Orestes’ death. This were new sorrow, a blood-bolter’d load Laid on the house that doth already bow Beneath a former wound that festers deep. Dare I opine these words have truth and life? Or are they tales, of woman’s terror born, That fly in the void air, and die disproved? Canst thou tell aught, and prove it to my soul?

CHORUS What we have heard, we heard; go thou within Thyself to ask the strangers of their tale. Strengthless are tidings, thro’ another heard; Question is his, to whom the tale is brought.

AEGISTHUS I too will meet and test the messenger, Whether himself stood witness of the death, Or tells it merely from dim rumour learnt: None shall cheat me, whose soul hath watchful eyes.

CHORUS Zeus, Zeus! what word to me is given? What cry or prayer, invoking heaven, Shall first by me be utterèd? What speech of craft? nor all revealing, Nor all too warily concealing— Ending my speech, shall aid the deed? For lo! in readiness is laid The dark emprise, the rending blade; Blood-dropping daggers shall achieve The dateless doom of Atreus’ name, Or—kindling torch and joyful flame In sign of new-won liberty— Once more Orestes shall retrieve His father’s wealth, and, throned on high, Shall hold the city’s fealty. So mighty is the grasp whereby, Heaven-holpen, he shall trip and throw, Unseconded, a double foe Ho for the victory!

VOICE OF AEGISTHUS Help, help, alas!

CHORUS Ho there, ho! how is’t within? Is’t done? is’t over? Stand we here aloof While it is wrought, that guiltless we may seem Of this dark deed; with death is strife fulfilled.

SLAVE O woe, O woe, my lord is done to death! Woe, woe, and woe again, AEgisthus gone! Hasten, fling wide the doors, unloose the bolts Of the queen’s chamber. O for some young strength To match the need! but aid availeth nought To him laid low for ever. Help, help, help! Sure to deaf ears I shout, and call in vain To slumber ineffectual. What ho! The queen! how fareth Clytemnestra’s self? Her neck too, hers, is close upon the steel, And soon shall sink, hewn thro’ as justice wills.

CLYTEMNESTRA What ails thee, raising this ado for us?

SLAVE I say the dead are come to slay the living.

CLYTEMNESTRA Alack, I read thy riddles all too clear— We slew by craft and by like craft shall die. Swift, bring the axe that slew my lord of old; I’ll know anon or death or victory— So stands the curse, so I confront it here.

ORESTES Thee too I seek: for him what’s done will serve.

CLYTEMNESTRA Woe, woe! Aegisthus, spouse and champion, slain!