Don’t kick against the goad,

  for fear you get jabbed back.

  CHORUS LEADER

  You stayed at home, effeminate, and schemed

  against the soldier fresh back from the field;

  and all the while you sullied his own marriage bed,

  and planned his death, our general.

  AEGISTHUS

  You’ll suffer long and hard for saying that.

  Your talk sounds just the opposite of Orpheus:

  1630 his voice was so delightful he would draw all nature to him,

  while you, thanks to your howling foolishness,

  will find yourselves dragged off in chains!

  Once you’re subdued, you’ll prove a bit more tame.

  CHORUS LEADER

  You think that you’ll be sovereign over Argos?

  You, who when you’d planned his killing,

  didn’t even dare to strike the blow?

  AEGISTHUS

  Because the trickery was obviously the woman’s role;

  my longtime enmity made me the object of suspicion.

  Yet I’ll undertake to rule the people here

  by making use of this man’s treasury;

  and anyone who’s not obedient

  I’ll clamp beneath a heavy yoke.

  1640 He’ll prove no frisky grain-fed colt:

  starvation rations and a pitch-dark cell

  will see him turn more docile.

  CHORUS LEADER

  But why not strike this warrior down yourself,

  you coward? Why do it through a woman,

  bringing down pollution on the country and its gods?

  I only hope Orestes is alive somewhere,

  so he may yet return here with good fortune

  to become the champion, killer of the pair of you.

  AEGISTHUS

  Since you’ve decided on this way to act with bluster,

  you’ll soon have to learn your lesson.

  CHORUS LEADER

  1650 Come on now, my fellow fighters—close to time for action.

  AEGISTHUS

  Come on now, my soldiers, hands on sword hilts ready.

  [The guards grip their swords, and the CHORUS raise their wooden staves.]

  CHORUS LEADER

  And my hand is ready also; and I’m quite prepared to die here.

  AEGISTHUS

  Yes, your saying “die” is welcome: we accept that offer!

  CLYTEMNESTRA

  No, my dearest, let’s not do more damage.

  We’ve already reaped enough unhappy harvest;

  let’s not have yet further bloodshed.

  Go back to your houses, you respected elders,

  go before you suffer; yield to how things are determined.

  We have done the things we had to.

  If this proves the end of troubles, we would welcome that,

  1660 since we’ve been lacerated by the Daimon’s talon.

  That is my woman’s contribution,

  in case anybody thinks it worthy of attention.

  AEGISTHUS

  But to have these people letting loose their tongues against me,

  trying out their luck in hurling their defiance!

  Should they be allowed to scorn their ruler without thinking?

  CHORUS LEADER

  Argives could not stoop to bow before a worthless creature.

  AEGISTHUS

  I shall still be looking out to get my hands on you in future.

  CHORUS LEADER

  Not if some divinity directs Orestes back to Argos.

  AEGISTHUS

  I am well aware that those in exile feed themselves on hoping.

  CHORUS LEADER

  All right, glut yourself, and mess with justice while you have the chance to.

  AEGISTHUS

  1670 Trust me, you shall pay back dearly for this mad defiance.

  CHORUS LEADER

  Keep on crowing like a cock parading by his hen-bird.

  CLYTEMNESTRA

  Take no notice of their futile yapping.

  You and I shall take control together,

  and set straight the powers of this palace.

  [CLYTEMNESTRA ushers AEGISTHUS and his guards into the palace. The old men of the CHORUS disperse in silence.]

  WOMEN AT THE GRAVESIDE

  CHARACTERS

  ORESTES, son of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra; he has spent his childhood in exile

  PYLADES, companion to Orestes; son of Strophius, king of Phocis, who has looked after Orestes in exile

  ELECTRA, older sister of Orestes; she has remained in Argos

  CLYTEMNESTRA, wife and killer of Agamemnon; she has taken over rule in Argos with Aegisthus

  CILISSA, old nurse of Orestes

  AEGISTHUS, lover and now husband of Clytemnestra

  SLAVE, member of the palace household

  CHORUS, enslaved women, now serving the royal house at Argos

  [PLACE: By the tomb of AGAMEMNON at Argos; then before the royal palace.]

  Scene 1

  [ORESTES, accompanied by PYLADES, enters; they approach the tomb of AGAMEMNON.]

  ORESTES

  I pray to Hermes of the Underworld,

  custodian of my father’s powers:

  come, act as keeper and confederate.

  (3) This is the day of my return from exile to this land,

 
  to claim my heritage and seek out my revenge.

  My father, conqueror of Troy,

  was cast down from his throne> by furtive trickery,

  the action of a woman’s hand,

 
  Now, Hermes, help the dead to strengthen those who live,

  and set upright once more their fallen claims.

  With my loyal comrade, Pylades from Phocis>,

  I stand here by my father’s sepulchre,

  (5) and call on him below to hear and pay me heed:

 
  but through your son assert your power once more.

  [Cutting two locks of hair.]

  Now that I’ve safely reached your tomb,

  I dedicate two locks of hair, kept growing for this day.>

  This one, in gratitude for nurturing my life,

  I offer to the river Inachus.

  (7) And second this, as token of my grief,

  I place here on the stony ground,

 

  because I was not there to mourn,

  (9) nor lay my hand upon your bier,

  as your poor corpse was carried out for burial.

 
  no proper rites are offered here,

  and so your memory becomes,

  just as our enemies must hope, obscured.>

  10 Look, look! What is this group of women coming near,

  conspicuous in their funereal black?

  Whatever should I make of this?

  Could some renewed disaster have beset the house?

  Or am I right to think they may be bringing

  offerings to pour out to my father,

  as propitiation for the dead below?

  Yes, that must be the reason, for I think I see Electra,

  my own sister—she stands out in anguished grief.

  O Zeus, grant me due vengeance for my father’s death;

  be my confederate.

  [ELECTRA and the CHORUS, dressed in black, are by now visible.]

  20 Now, Pylades, let’s stand aside from here,

  so we can learn more surely why these women

  are approaching for this ritual.

  [They hide.]

  Choral Song

  CHORUS

  Sent from the palace I come,

  bearing these libations;

  see how my cheeks are defaced,

  red with laceration,

  furrows fresh dug by my nails.

  Linen robes in tatters

  30 scream through the rips by my breast

  comfortless disasters.

  Hair-raising cries from a dream,

  anger gasped from slumbers,

  deep from within in the night

  roused the women’s chambers,

  as it pressed hard on the house.

  God-assured soothsayers

  40 cried that those under the earth

  rage against their slayers.

  Mother Earth, our birth,

  that godless woman sent me to do

  this rite that is not right,

  to try to keep her troubles at bay—

  her voice was terrified.

  For once that blood is spilled on the ground,

  what ransom can be paid?

  O hearth so overwhelmed with distress,

  50 and house torn down, destroyed!

  An utter dark denied any sun,

  black dynastic hatred,

  surrounds this place in its stifling gloom,

  now that its lords lie dead.

  Respect that was unconquered, unbowed,

  has given way, distraught:

  (60) yet Justice is bound to tip her scales,

  by day or dusk or night.

  Blood that’s been drunk down

  by the earth, our nurse,

  sets in vengeful clots

  that will not disperse.

  For the guilty ones

  ruin without cease

  grips and riddles them

  70 with intense disease.

  Just as there’s no cure

  if one breaks the seals

  round a virgin bed,

  so if all the streams

  could make confluence

  to erase the stain

  from murder-bloodied hands,

  they still wash in vain.

  When the gods enforced my city’s doom,

  falling to onslaught in war,

  I was taken from my father’s home

  to live in slavery here.

  So it’s proper for me to approve,

  whether they’re just or unjust,

  those who have the control of my life—

  80 and keep abhorrence suppressed.

  All the same, I hide my face behind

  my cloak and secretly weep

  at the senseless fates my masters bind,

  my blood-flow frozen in grief.

  Scene 2

  ELECTRA

  You servant women, keepers of our house,

  since you are here to help me with this supplication,

  please advise me over this:

  what words am I to say while pouring out

  these funeral offerings?

  How speak, yet with good sense?

  How pray sincerely to my father?

  Am I to say, “I bring these offerings

  from a loving wife to her beloved husband”—

  90 those words from my mother?

  I have no heart for that, yet nothing else to say

  as I pour out this liquid on my father’s tomb.

  Or should I speak the customary words:

  “May you give favor in return to those

  who send these offerings, a gift to match their own”?

  Or should I spill them on the ground

  in silence, disrespectfully—the way my father died—

  and walk away with eyes averted,

  like one who throws away some pot of scourings left from ritual?

  100 Please share in this decision with me, friends,

  considering how we nurse within the house

  a common hatred.

  Don’t conceal your thoughts through fear of anyone:

  the same fate waits for both the free

  and those subjected to another’s rule.

  So speak up if you have a better plan.

  CHORUS LEADER

  Since I respect your father’s tomb as if it were an altar,

  I shall, as prompted, speak out from the heart:

  while you are pouring, utter words that favor

  those who sympathize with us.

  ELECTRA

  110 And whom should I declare among our friends?

  CHORUS LEADER

  First say yourself and anyone who hates Aegisthus.

  ELECTRA

  What others should I add as on our side?

  CHORUS LEADER

  Recall Orestes—even though he is abroad.

  ELECTRA

  That is advice I find most welcome.

  CHORUS LEADER

  And as for those ones guilty of the killing . . .

  ELECTRA

  Explain to me, what should I say of them?

  CHORUS LEADER

  . . . Pray that some god or human comes to deal with them.

  ELECTRA

  120 You mean as judge? Or bringing justice?

  CHORUS LEADER

  Declare it plainly: one to kill them in their turn.

  ELECTRA

  Can it be right for me to ask the gods for this?

  CHORUS LEADER

  Of course: your enemies should pay for wrongs in kind.

  ELECTRA

 
  and now I have the confidence to pray out loud.>

  O Hermes of the Underworld, please act for me,

  and tell those deities beneath the ground,

  who oversee my father’s heritage, to listen to my prayers;

  so too may Earth herself, who brings forth everything

  and then receives her produce back again.

  And as I pour these liquids to the dead,

  130 I call upon my father now to pity me;

  and let Orestes light a flame within our house.

  For, as things are, we are like vagrants,

  sold off by our mother, who has bought herself

  a partner in exchange, I mean Aegisthus,

  who’s confederate, joint-guilty of your murdering.

  So while I am no better than a slave,

  Orestes still remains a fugitive,

  far from his property; and all the while

  they revel in the luxuries you labored for.

  Here are my prayers for us, so listen to me, father:

  may Orestes come back here by some good luck;

  140 and grant that I myself may be more self-controlled

  than my own mother, and more virtuous in deeds.

  Against our enemies I ask for vengeance

  so your killers shall be duly killed in turn.

  I lay this hostile curse upon their heads:

  to us, though, send good fortune,

  helped by Earth and Justice who brings victory.

  [She pours her offerings.]

  Accompanied by prayers like these,

  I pour out these libations.

  150 And, women, it’s your place to garland them

  with lamentations, and deliver hymns

  restoring victory for the dead.

  CHORUS [as they pour their libations]

  Hear our teardrops falling

  for our buried ruler

  on this honored chamber,

  shield against miasma,

  where we pour libations.

  Hear us, mighty sovereign,

  hear us from the night.

  [They cry out in lament.]

  160 May he come, the warrior:

  liberate this household;

  aim his piercing arrows;

  draw his shining sword-blade,

  ready for the fight.

  Scene 3

  ELECTRA

  My father has received his due libations through the earth.

  [Agitated because she has seen something.]

  But now here’s something new I call on you to share.

  CHORUS LEADER

  Please tell—my heart leaps up with fear.

  ELECTRA

  Here on the tomb I’ve found a lock of hair.

  CHORUS LEADER

  What man could it have come from? Or what girl?

  ELECTRA

  (170) There’s no one could have cut it off except myself.

  CHORUS LEADER

  True, those who should have mourned this way are enemies.

  ELECTRA

  What’s more, this one looks closely similar to . . .

  CHORUS LEADER

  Tell me whose hair it’s like.

  ELECTRA

  . . . it looks so very like my own.

  CHORUS LEADER

  You mean this is a secret offering from Orestes?

  ELECTRA

  It looks exactly as his hair should be.

  CHORUS LEADER

  But how could he have dared to journey here?

  ELECTRA

  180 He must have sent it as a tribute to his father.

  CHORUS LEADER

  This would be just as full of sorrow, if it means