When King Agamemnon was slain by his
wicked wife Clytaemnestra, the boy Orestes his son
had perished also by the hands of his mother, but that
his sister Electra took him and delivered him out of
the hands of them that would have slain him.
And having saved him, she sent him to the house of
Strophius the Phocian, who was a friend to the house
of the King, her father. And here Orestes abode
till he was of age and strength to fulfil the law.
For the law of the land was that, if a man should be
foully slain, his son should avenge him on him that
had done this wrong. Also the youth sought counsel
of Apollo at his oracle of Delphi, and the god answered
him that he should avenge the blood of his father even
upon her that bare him. Therefore, being now
grown to manhood, he came to the city of Argos, having
disguised himself that no man might know him.
And he had with him Pylades that was the son of Strophius.
Now these two loved each other exceedingly, so that
men spake of them in after time as famous among friends.
Also there came with Orestes an old man, a slave that
had waited on him from a boy. Now the three had
devised a story wherewith they might deceive the Queen
and her husband; and being thus prepared they came
into the city at dawn.
Then the old man spake, saying, “Son
of Agamemnon, thou seest the city which thou hast
long desired to see. There is the grove of Io,
whom the gad-fly drave over the earth, and there
on the left hand the temple of Here, which all men
know, and before us the palace of the children of
Pelops, a house of many woes, from which I carried
thee forth in time past, when thy mother would have
slain thee. But now we must take counsel and
that speedily, for the sun is risen and hath wakened
the birds, and we must be ready before that men come
forth to their work.”
Then Orestes made reply, “’Tis
well said, old man. Hearken then to what I purpose.
And first know that when I would hear from Apollo at
his oracle in Delphi how I should best avenge my father,
he bade me trust neither in shield nor spear, but
accomplish the deed by craft. Do thou then go
when occasion shall offer into the palace, and spy
out the things that are therein. For they will
not know thee who thou art, so changed art thou.
And thou shalt tell them such a tale about me as shall
surely deceive them. And we meanwhile will do
honor to the spirit of my father at his grave, offering
hair that has been shorn from my head and drink offerings,
and afterwards will return and accomplish what shall
remain to be done.”
And when he had so spoken, he prayed,
“O my country and ye gods of the land, help
me, and thou house of my father which I have come at
the bidding of the Gods to cleanse from the guilt
of blood.”
Then the old man said, “I hear
the voice of some one that groans.” And
Orestes made answer, “Doubtless it is my sister
Electra. Shall we stay and listen to her?”
“Not so,” said the old man, “let
us do our business without delay.” So they
departed.
And then came forth Electra, making
great lamentation for her father, and praying that
the Gods would speedily send her brother Orestes to
avenge him. And with her was a company of the
daughters of Argos, who sought to comfort her, saying
that it was idle to make such weeping and moaning
for the dead; and that others also were in like case
with her; and that she should have patience, for that
time would bring punishment on the evildoers.
Also they would have her curb her tongue, seeing how
she angered those that had the rule in her house.
And then Electra unfolded her grief
to them saying, “I pray you, daughters of Argos,
that ye think no evil of me as of one that altogether
wanteth wisdom and patience. For what woman of
the better sort would not do even as I? For think
how I am constrained to live with them that slew my
father; and that every day I see this base AEgisthus
sitting upon that which was his throne, and wearing
the selfsame robes; and how he is husband to this
mother of mine, if indeed she be a mother who can
stoop to such vileness. And know that every month
on the day on which she slew my father she maketh
festival and offereth sacrifice to the Gods.
And all this am I constrained to see, weeping in secret,
for indeed it is not permitted to me publicly to show
such sorrow as my heart desireth. Ofttimes indeed
this woman mocketh me, and would know why I sorrow
more than others, seeing that others also have lost
their fathers. But sometimes, if it so chance
that she hear from some one that Orestes prepareth
to come back to this land, she is furious above measure,
and rageth as a wild beast; and her husband, this coward
that maketh war against women, stirreth up her fury
against me. And still do I look for Orestes when
he shall come; but he tarrieth long, and in the meantime
I perish with sorrow and trouble.”
Then the daughters of Argos, when
they had made inquiry and heard that AEgisthus was
absent and that they could speak more freely of these
matters, would fain know whether she had heard news
of her brother Orestes, and bade her be of good heart
concerning him. But as they spake together, the
sister of Electra, Chrysothemis, came forth with offerings
for the tomb of her father in her hand, and other maidens
followed her. Now these two were different one
from the other, for Electra was full of courage, and
would have no peace with those whom she hated, and
sought not to hide what was in her heart, but Chrysothemis
was fearful, and would live peaceably with them that
she loved not, and would speak them fair. And
now, when Electra saw her sister come forth, she brake
out against her with many angry words, saying that
she did ill to choose the part of a mother who had
done such wickedness, and to forget her father; and
that it was a base thing in her to live softly and
at ease, consorting with the evildoers.
And when the Argive maidens would
have made peace between them, Chrysothemis answered,
“These words are not strange to me; nor should
I take note of them, but that I have heard of a great
trouble that is ready to fall upon my sister here,
and stay her complaints even for ever.”
“Nay, what is this?” said
Electra. “Speakest thou of trouble greater
than that which I now endure?”
“Surely,” the other made
reply, “for they will send thee far hence, and
shut thee up where thou shalt never more see the light
of the sun, if thou stayest not these complaints.”
But Electra did not fear one whit
to hear these things, but waxed fiercer in her anger.
And, after a while, as the strife ceased not between
them, Chrysothemis would have gone on her way.
And when Electra perceived this, she asked her for
what purpose and whither she was carrying these offerings
to the dead.
And Chrysothemis made reply that she
was carrying them at the bidding of her mother to
the tomb of King Agamemnon. For that the Queen
was in much fear, having seen a vision in the night
which had sorely troubled her; and that the vision
was this. The King her husband, whom she slew,
seemed to bear her company, even as he had done in
time past. And he took the sceptre which he had
been wont to carry, and which AEgisthus carried after
him, and planted it in the earth; and there sprang
from it a very flourishing branch, by which the whole
land of Mycenae was overshadowed. “So much,”
she said, “I heard her say, when she told her
dream to the light of the day; but more I know not,
save that she sendeth me to make these offerings,
by reason of her fear.”
Then Electra answered, “Nay,
my sister; lay not aught of these things upon our
father’s tomb, for they would be an abomination
to him; but scatter them to the winds, or cover them
with earth. So let them be kept for her, when
she shall die. And surely, but that she is the
most shameless of women, she had not sought to pay
this honour to him whom she slew so foully. Thinketh
she to atone in such sort for the blood that she hath
shed? Not so. Put these things away; but
thou and I will lay upon this tomb hair from thy head
and from mine; small gifts, in truth, yet what we
have. And do thou pray to our father that he will
help us even where he dwelleth below the earth, and
also that Orestes may come speedily, and set his foot
upon the necks of them that hate us.”
This Chrysothemis promised that she
would do, and so departed. And in a short space
came forth the Queen Clytaemnestra, and, finding her
daughter Electra without the gate of the palace, was
very wroth, saying that King AEgisthus had forbidden
her to do this thing, and that it was not well that,
he being absent, she should take no account of her
mother.
“But now,” she said, “let
us reason together. Thou speakest ill of me,
because I slew thy father. ’Tis even so.
I deny it not. But mark, Justice slew him, not
I only; and thou shouldest be on the side of Justice.
He slew thy sister, sacrificing her to the Gods, as
no other Greek had done. For what cause did he
slay her? ’For the sake of the Greeks,’
thou wilt say. But what had the Greeks to do with
child of mine? Or was it for the sake of King
Menelaues his brother? But had not Menelaues
two children, and should not one of these have the
rather died, seeing of what father and mother they
came, even of those for whose sake the Greeks waged
this war? Had Death, thinkest thou, desire for
my children rather than for his? Or had this
accursed father no care for my children, but only
for the children of his brother? Surely this was
the deed of a foolish and wicked man. Aye, I
say it, whatever thou mayest think, and so would say
she who died, could she take voice and speak.”
Then said Electra, “If thou
permittest, I would say somewhat for him and for her.”
And the Queen answered, “Say
on. Didst thou always speak in such mood, thou
wert not so ill to hear.”
Then Electra spake: “Thou
sayest, ‘I slew thy father,’ ’Tis
enough. Worse thou couldst not say, whether ’twere
justly done or no. But of justice thou hadst
never a thought. ’Twas the ill persuasion
of him with whom thou now consortest that urged thee
to this deed. And as for my sister, thou knowest
well that my father slew a stag in the grove of Artemis,
and boasted himself of the deed, and that the goddess
was wroth with him, and hindered the voyage of the
Greeks; and that for this cause my father slew his
daughter, knowing that otherwise the ships could sail
neither to Troy nor homewards. Yea, he slew her,
sorely against his will, for the people’s sake,
and for nought else. But consider whether this
that thou sayest be not altogether a pretence.
Art thou not wife to him that was thy fellow in this
deed? Callest thou this taking vengeance for
thy daughter that was slain? And thy children art
thou a mother to them? What ill do not I suffer
at thy hand and the hand of thy partner? And
Orestes, whom I barely saved from thy hand, liveth
he not in exile? Surely, whatsoever it be that
thou chargest against him, thou hast no cause to be
ashamed of me.”
Then the two spake many bitter words
to each other; and at the last, when Electra held
her peace, the Queen prayed to the Gods, and made her
offerings to the tomb. And first she addressed
herself to Phoebus: “O Phoebus, hear that
which is in my heart; for to say the thing aloud I
dare not, seeing that I am not among friends.
But of the dreams that I saw this night past, grant
that the good be accomplished and the evil be turned
away to my enemies; and that I be not cast down from
the wealth wherein I now live; and that I may wield
this sceptre of the son of Atreus which now I have,
and may have the company of my friends, even as now,
and the love of my children, if so be that they love
their mother.”
And while she thus spake, the old
man came in, and would fain know whether that which
he saw was the palace of Atreus. And when he heard
that it was, he asked whether the lady whom he saw
was the Queen. And hearing this also, he spake,
“Lady, I have good tidings for thee and King
AEgisthus.”
“First tell me who thou art.”
“I come from Phanoteus of Phocis: I bring
great news.”
“Tell me; for the man is a friend, and the tidings,
I doubt not, good.”
“I will say it in one word Orestes
is dead.”
And when Electra heard this, she brake
forth into a great cry, saying that she was undone.
But the Queen said, “What? What sayest thou?
Heed not this woman.”
And the man said, “I told thee,
and tell thee yet again, that Orestes is dead.”
And again Electra brake forth into a cry; but the Queen bade
her hold her peace, and would have the stranger tell the story. And the
man said
“He came to Delphi, whither
the Greeks greatly resort, purposing to contend in
the games of the Pythian Apollo. And first there
was a race of runners on foot; and for this he came
forward, and passing all that ran with him so won
the prize. Nor indeed did I ever see such a man;
for there was not one contest in which he had not
the pre-eminence. Very fair was he to look upon,
and his name, he said, was Orestes of Argos, and he
was the son of that Agamemnon who in days past was
captain of the host of the Greeks at Troy. But
when the Gods are minded to destroy a man, who is
so strong that he can escape? It fell out then
that on the next day at sunset there was proclaimed
a race of chariots, to which there came one man from
Achaia, and from Sparta one, and two from Barca in
Africa. After these came Orestes, being the fifth,
with horses of Thessaly. And the sixth was a
man of AEtolia, with bay horses, and the seventh a
man of Magnesia in Thessaly, and the eighth was a man
of Oenea, whose horses were white, and the ninth from
Athens, a city which, they say, was builded of Gods,
and a Boeotian was the tenth. First the heralds
shook lots for each in a helmet, and each man had his
place according as his lot came forth. And after
this the trumpet sounded, and the horses leapt forward,
while the men shouted to them and shook the reins,
and spared not the goad. Great was the noise,
and the dust rose up like a cloud from the plain.
And on the backs of the charioteers and on the wheels
of them that went before came the foam from the horses
that followed, so close did they lie together.
And Orestes, when he came to the pillar where the
chariots turned, drave so that his wheel wellnigh
touched it, and slackened the rein for the right horse,
and pressed on that which was on the left. So
far no mishap had befallen the chariots, but all had
fared well. But here the steeds of the man of
Oenea, being very hard to hold, brake from their course,
and drave against the side of one of the chariots
from Barca. And now they had ended six courses,
and were about to begin the seventh. But with
this beginning of trouble went all things wrong, for
one drave against another till all the plain
of Crissa was covered with broken chariots as the
sea with shipwrecks. But the man of Athens was
very skilful in driving, and, when he saw the beginning
of confusion, he drew his horses aside and held back,
and so escaped without damage. Now Orestes was
the hindermost of all, trusting to what he should do
at the end; and when he saw that only the man of Athens
was left, he shouted to his horses and made haste
to come up with him. Then the two drave
together, having their chariots equal, and first one
showed somewhat in the front and then the other.
And for eleven courses of the twelve all went well
with Orestes; but as he was rounding the pillar for
the last time, he loosed the left rein and knew not
that he loosed it overmuch, and smote against the
pillar and brake his axle in the midst, and so was
thrown out of his chariot; but the reins were tangled
about him and held him. And all the people cried
aloud when they saw the young man dragged over the
plain. But at last they that had driven the other
chariots hardly stayed the horses, and loosed him.
Covered with blood was he and sorely mangled, that
none could have known him. And we burnt his body;
and certain Phocians, whom the Prince hath sent for
this purpose, bring that which remaineth of him, being
but a few ashes in an urn of brass, for all he was
so tall and strong. This is a sad tale for thee
to hear; but for us who saw it never was anything
in this world more grievous.”
Then the Queen said, “Shall
I say that this hath happened ill or well? or that
it is an evil thing, yet profitable to me? Surely
it is grievous that I find safety in the death of
my own kindred.”
“What troubleth thee, lady,
in these news?” said the false messenger.
“’Tis a dreadful thing
to be a mother. Whatever wrong she suffereth she
cannot hurt him whom she bare.”
“Then,” said he, “it seemeth that
I have come in vain.”
“Not so,” the Queen made
answer, “if thou showest proof that Orestes is
dead. For he hath long been a stranger to me,
and when he departed hence he knew me not, being very
young; and of late, accusing me of the blood of his
father, he hath made dreadful threats against me, so
that I could not sleep in peace day or night.
And now this day I am quit of this fear that wasted
my very life.”
Then the Queen and the false messenger
went into the palace; and when they were gone Electra
cried, saying, “See here, forsooth, a mother
that weepeth and mourneth for her son! O my Orestes,
how utterly hast thou undone me! For now all
the hope I had is gone that thou wouldst come and
avenge my father. Whither can I go, for thou and
he are gone? Must I be as a slave among them
that slew my father? This gate at least I will
enter no more. If I weary them, let them slay
me, if they will; I should count it a grace so to
die.”
And the maidens of Argos bewailed
the dead brother with her. But in the midst of
their lamentations came Chrysothemis in great joy,
saying, “O my sister, I bring thee good tidings
that will give thee ease from thy sorrows!”
“What ease, when they are past all remedy?”
“Orestes is here. Know this as surely as
thou now seest me before thee.”
“Surely thou art mad, and laughest at thy woes
and mine.”
“Not so. By the hearth of my fathers I
swear it. Orestes is here.”
“Who told thee this tale that thou believest
so strangely?”
“’Tis from proofs that
I saw with mine own eyes, and not another’s,
that I believe. Listen, therefore. When
I came to the tomb of my father, I saw on the top
of the pillar offerings of milk that had been newly
poured, and garlands of all manner of flowers.
And marvelling much at this, I looked to see if any
man was at hand; and seeing none, I drew near; and
on the tomb I espied a lock of hair newly cut; and
as soon as I espied it I knew that it was a token
of Orestes, dearest of men in all the world to thee
and me. And as I touched it I held my tongue from
all words that might do hurt, and my eyes were filled
with tears. And now think whose should this be
but his? Who should do this but thou or I; and
I did not, nor thou, who canst not go so far from this
house; and my mother is not wont to do such things.
’Tis Orestes surely. And now sorrow hath
passed away, and all things will be well.”
“Nay,” Electra made answer, “I pity
thee for thy folly.’
“Do not my tidings please thee?”
“I know not why thou talkest so wildly.”
“But may I not believe that which I have seen
with mine own eyes?”
“O my sister, he is dead! Look not to him
for help any more.”
“But stay. From whom didst thou learn this?”
“From one who was at hand when he perished.”
“Where is he? This is passing
strange. Whose then could be these offerings
on the tomb?”
“Some one hath put them for a remembrance of
the dead Orestes.”
“Woe is me, and I made haste
with the good tidings, as I thought, and knew not
what new trouble worse than the old had fallen upon
us.”
Then said Electra, “Hear now
what I purpose. Thou knowest that we are utterly
bereaved of friends, for Death hath devoured them all.
Now, while Orestes yet lived and was prosperous, I
hoped that he would come to avenge our father’s
death. But now that he is dead, I look to thee,
that thou shouldest make common cause with me and work
this vengeance on them that slew him. Canst thou
endure that we should live deprived of the wealth
that was our father’s; and also that we should
grow old unmated? For know that a husband thou
shalt never have, for indeed AEgisthus is not unwise
that he should suffer children to be born of thee
or me to be a manifest damage to himself. But
if thou wilt hearken to me, first thou wilt do that
which is fitting to thy father and brother that are
dead; and next thou wilt win great renown, and be married
to a noble mate, for all men are wont to regard that
which is worthy. And surely in days to come some
man, citizen or stranger, that seeth us will say,
’Look, my friends, at these sisters, for they
wrought deliverance for the house of their father,
and spared not their own lives, but slew their enemies
in the day of their prosperity. These must we
love and reverence; these on feast days, and when
the city is gathered together, must we honour by reason
of their courage.’ Wherefore, my sister,
be of good heart. Be bold for thy father’s
sake and for thy brother’s, for mine also and
for thine, that we may be delivered from these troubles.
For to them of noble breeding to live basely is a shame.”
But Chrysothemis made answer, “O
my sister, how didst thou find such daring purpose
as this, making ready thyself as for fight, and calling
me to follow? Knowest thou not that thou art a
woman and no man, and that thou art weaker than thine
enemies, and that their good luck ever increaseth
and ours groweth less and less? And what will
it profit us if we get great renown, yet die in shameful
fashion? And yet to die I think not such loss,
but to wish to die and not attain to it, suffering
torture or bonds. Keep thy anger within bounds.
What thou hast said I will count as unsaid. Only
yield to them that are stronger.”
And after many words, Electra urging
her sister to this deed and the other excusing herself,
the two parted in great anger. And Chrysothemis
went into the palace, but Electra abode where she was.
And to her, after a while, came Orestes, but disguised
that no man might know him, and asked the Argive maidens
that stood by, whether the house that he beheld was
the palace of King AEgisthus, and when he heard that
it was so, he bade them tell the King that certain
Phocian strangers were come seeking him. But
when Electra heard it, she said, “Comest thou
with proof of this ill news that we have heard?”
And Orestes made answer, “I
know not what news thou speakest of, but the old man,
Strophius, the Phocian, bade me bring tidings of Orestes.”
“What are thy tidings, though I tremble to hear
them?”
“We are come bringing all that remaineth of
him in this urn.”
And when Electra saw it she cried
that they should give the urn into her hands; and
Orestes bade them do so. And she took it and said,
“O Orestes, that wast dearer to me than all
men else, how different is this coming of thine to
that which I had hoped! Lovely wert thou when
I sent thee from this house, and now I hold thee in
my hands and thou art naught. Would to the Gods
thou hadst died that day when thy father was slain;
for now thou art dead, an exile, and in the land of
strangers, and I paid thee no office of kindness nor
took thy ashes from the funeral fire; but this did
strangers for thee, and now thou comest a handful
of ashes in a little urn. Woe is me for the wasted
pains of nurture and the toil wherewith out of a willing
heart I tended thee! For thy mother loved thee
not more than I, nor was any one but I thy nurse.
And now all this hath departed. My father is dead,
and thou art dead, and my enemies laugh me to scorn,
and thy mother that is no mother is mad with joy.
Let me die with thee, for ’tis the dead alone
whom I see to be quit of pain.”
But while she so spake Orestes was
much troubled in heart and knew not what to do.
But at the last he said, “Is this the Princess
Electra whom I see?”
And she answered, “Even so, and very ill she
fareth.”
Then he looked upon her again and
said to himself, “What a noble lady is this,
and in what ungodly fashion hath she been afflicted!”
And when Electra would know why he
was so troubled, he said, “It paineth me to
see thee excelling all women in sorrow.”
“Nay,” she said, “thou
seest but a small part of my sorrows.”
“Hast thou, then, yet worse to bear than these?”
“Yea, for I live with them that are murderers.”
“Whom sayest thou they murdered?”
“They murdered my father and I am
constrained to serve them.”
“Who constraineth thee?”
“A mother that is no mother.”
“And is there none that can help thee?”
“None, for him that was my helper
thou bringest in this urn. But why pitiest thou
me as doth no other man? Art thou, perchance,
a kinsman?”
“Put down this urn and I will tell thee.”
“Nay, stranger, take this not
from me, for it holds all that is dearest to me.”
“Speak not such idle words: thy sorrow
is without cause.”
“Sayest thou ‘without cause’ when
my brother is dead?”
“Thou dost ill to speak thus of thy brother.”
“Doth the dead then think so lightly of me?”
“No man thinketh lightly of
thee; yet with these ashes thou hast no concern.”
“How so, if this is the body of my Orestes?”
“Here is no true body, only one that is feigned.”
“Unhappy man! where, then, is his tomb?”
“He hath none what need hath the
living of a tomb?”
“Liveth he, then?”
“Yea, if I am alive.”
“Art thou, then, he?”
“Yea; look at this my father’s seal, and
say whether I speak truly.”
And when she saw the seal, she knew
that it was her father’s, and that this stranger
was indeed Orestes. And she cried aloud for joy,
and embraced him. Then, after the two had talked
together for a very brief space, Orestes said, “Tell
me not how ill thy mother hath done, nor how AEgisthus
hath wasted the substance of my house; but rather instruct
me in this: shall I do this thing secretly or
openly? Take heed also lest thy mother see thee
bear a joyful face, and so take warning.”
And Electra made answer, “As
for this present, know that AEgisthus is absent, and
that the Queen is alone. Therefore do as thou
deemest best. And as for me, be sure that I shall
not cease from tears; for the old sorrow is inveterate
in me; and also, now that I have seen thee, I weep
for joy.”
But while they talked together came
the old man in haste, and rebuked them that they so
spent the time; and to Orestes he said that no one
knew him who he was, but that all deemed him dead,
and that he must make haste and do the deed; for that
now the Queen was alone, nor was there any man in
the palace.
And Orestes, having prayed to the
Gods, and especially to Apollo, who indeed had bidden
him do this work, went into the palace. And at
the first Electra went with him, but afterwards hastened
out, to keep watch, lest perchance King AEgisthus
should return. So she and the woman waited without
and listened. And after a while there came a cry,
“O my son, my son, have pity on thy mother.”
And Electra said, “Aye, but thou hadst no pity
on him, or on the father that begat him.”
And then again a cry, “Woe is me! I am
smitten.” And Electra said, “Smite,
if thou canst, a double blow.” And then
the voice came a third time, “I am smitten again.”
But Electra made reply, “Would that AEgisthus
were smitten with thee!” After this Orestes
came forth, with his sword dripping with blood.
And when the women asked him how it fared in the palace,
he answered, “All is well, if only Apollo hath
spoken the thing that is true.”
But as he spake King AEgisthus came
back, asking, “Where be these strangers from
Phocis that are come, telling how Prince Orestes hath
come by his death in a chariot race?”
And Electra made answer that they
were within. Then AEgisthus cried, “Open
the gates, and let all men of Argos and of Mycenae
see the body; and if perchance any man hath been lifted
up with vain hopes, let him look upon Orestes that
he is dead, and so submit himself to me.”
Then the gate was opened, and there
appeared a dead body, lying covered with a sheet.
And AEgisthus said, “Take the covering from off
his face; for he is my kinsman, and should not miss
due mourning from me.”
But Orestes answered, “Take
it thyself; for this dead body is thine, not mine.”
Then said AEgisthus, “Thou speakest
well: if the Queen be within the palace, bid
her come.”
And Orestes said, “She is near
thee; look not elsewhere.” And when AEgisthus
lifted the covering, lo! it was the Queen who lay dead.
Then he knew the whole matter, and turned to the stranger
saying, “Thou must be Orestes.”
“’Tis even so,”
cried Orestes. “And now go into the palace.”
“But why slayest thou me in
darkness, if this deed be just?”
“I slay thee where thou didst slay him that
is dead.”
So he drave him before him into
the palace, and slew him there. Thus the blood
of King Agamemnon was avenged.