First Episode

LEADER.On all of Greece she wrought great jeopardy,Thy mother's sister, Helen,--and on thee.

(ORESTES and PYLADES move out from their concealment; ORESTES comes forward: PYLADES beckons to two ARMED SERVANTS and stays with them in the background.)

ELECTRA.Woe's me! No more of wailing! Women, flee!Strange armèd men beside the dwelling thereLie ambushed! They are rising from their lair.Back by the road, all you. I will essayThe house; and may our good feet save us!

ORESTES (between ELECTRA and the hut).Stay,Unhappy woman! Never fear my steel.

ELECTRA (in utter panic).O bright Apollo! Mercy! See, I kneel;Slay me not.

ORESTES.Others I have yet to slayLess dear than thou.

ELECTRA.Go from me! Wouldst thou layHand on a body that is not for thee?

ORESTES.None is there I would touch more righteously.

ELECTRA.Why lurk'st thou by my house? And why a sword?

ORESTES.Stay. Listen! Thou wilt not gainsay my word.

ELECTRA.There--I am still. Do what thou wilt with me.Thou art too strong.

ORESTES.A word I bear to thee...Word of thy brother.

ELECTRA.Oh, friend! More than friend!Living or dead?

ORESTES.He lives; so let me sendMy comfort foremost, ere the rest be heard.

ELECTRA.God love thee for the sweetness of thy word!

ORESTES.God love the twain of us, both thee and me.

ELECTRA.He lives! Poor brother! In what land weareth heHis exile?

ORESTES.Not one region nor one lotHis wasted life hath trod.

ELECTRA.He lacketh notFor bread?

ORESTES.Bread hath he; but a man is weakIn exile.

ELECTRA.What charge laid he on thee? Speak.

ORESTES.To learn if thou still live, and how the storm,Living, hath struck thee.

ELECTRA.That thou seest; this formWasted...

ORESTES.Yea, riven with the fire of woe.I sigh to look on thee.

ELECTRA.My face; and, lo,My temples of their ancient glory shorn.

ORESTES.Methinks thy brother haunts thee, being forlorn;Aye, and perchance thy father, whom they slew...

ELECTRA.What should be nearer to me than those two?

ORESTES.And what to him, thy brother, half so dearAs thou?

ELECTRA.His is a distant love, not nearAt need.

ORESTES.But why this dwelling place, this lifeOf loneliness?

ELECTRA (with sudden bitterness).Stranger, I am a wife....O better dead!

ORESTES.That seals thy brother's doom!What Prince of Argos...?

ELECTRA.Not the man to whomMy father thought to give me.

ORESTES.Speak; that IMay tell thy brother all.

ELECTRA.'Tis there, hard by,His dwelling, where I live, far from men's eyes.

ORESTES.Some ditcher's cot, or cowherd's, by its guise!

ELECTRA (struck with shame for her ingratitude).A poor man; but true-hearted, and to meGod-fearing.

ORESTES.How? What fear of God hath he?

ELECTRA.He hath never held my body to his own.

ORESTES.Hath he some vow to keep? Or is it doneTo scorn thee?

ELECTRA.Nay; he only scorns to sinAgainst my father's greatness.

ORESTES.But to winA princess! Doth his heart not leap for pride?

ELECTRA.He honoureth not the hand that gave the bride.

ORESTES.I see. He trembles for Orestes' wrath?

ELECTRA.Aye, that would move him. But beside, he hathA gentle heart.

ORESTES.Strange! A good man.... I swearHe well shall be requited.

ELECTRA.Whensoe'erOur wanderer comes again!

ORESTES.Thy mother staysUnmoved 'mid all thy wrong?

ELECTRA.A lover weighsMore than a child in any woman's heart.

ORESTES.But what end seeks Aegisthus, by such artOf shame?

ELECTRA.To make mine unborn children lowAnd weak, even as my husband.

ORESTES.Lest there growFrom thee the avenger?

ELECTRA.Such his purpose is:For which may I requite him!

ORESTES.And of thisThy virgin life--Aegisthus knows it?

ELECTRA.Nay,We speak it not. It cometh not his way.

ORESTES.These women hear us. Are they friends to thee?

ELECTRA.Aye, friends and true. They will keep faithfullyAll words of mine and thine.

ORESTES (trying her).Thou art well stayedWith friends. And could Orestes give thee aidIn aught, if e'er...

ELECTRA.Shame on thee! Seest thou not?Is it not time?

ORESTES (catching her excitement).How time? And if he soughtTo slay, how should he come at his desire?

ELECTRA.By daring, as they dared who slew his sire!

ORESTES.Wouldst thou dare with him, if he came, thou too,To slay her?

ELECTRA.Yes; with the same axe that slewMy father!

ORESTES.'Tis thy message? And thy moodUnchanging?

ELECTRA.Let me shed my mother's blood,And I die happy.

ORESTES.God!... I would that nowOrestes heard thee here.

ELECTRA.Yet, wottest thou,Though here I saw him, I should know him not.

ORESTES.Surely. Ye both were children, when they wroughtYour parting.

ELECTRA.One alone in all this landWould know his face.

ORESTES.The thrall, methinks, whose handStole him from death--or so the story ran?

ELECTRA.He taught my father, too, an old old manOf other days than these.

ORESTES.Thy father's grave...He had due rites and tendance?

ELECTRA.What chance gave,My father had, cast out to rot in the sun.

ORESTES.God, 'tis too much!... To hear of such things doneEven to a stranger, stings a man.... But speak,Tell of thy life, that I may know, and seekThy brother with a tale that must be heardHowe'er it sicken. If mine eyes be blurred,Remember, 'tis the fool that feels not. Aye,Wisdom is full of pity; and therebyMen pay for too much wisdom with much pain.

LEADER.My heart is moved as this man's. I would fainLearn all thy tale. Here dwelling on the hillsLittle I know of Argos and its ills.

ELECTRA.If I must speak--and at love's call, God knows,I fear not--I will tell thee all; my woes,My father's woes, and--O, since thou hast stirredThis storm of speech, thou bear him this my word--His woes and shame! Tell of this narrow cloakIn the wind; this grime and reek of toil, that chokeMy breathing; this low roof that bows my headAfter a king's. This raiment ... thread by thread,'Tis I must weave it, or go bare--must bring,Myself, each jar of water from the spring.No holy day for me, no festival,No dance upon the green! From all, from allI am cut off. No portion hath my life'Mid wives of Argos, being no true wife.No portion where the maidens throng to praiseCastor--my Castor, whom in ancient days,Ere he passed from us and men worshipped him,They named my bridegroom!--And she, she!... The grimTroy spoils gleam round her throne, and by each handQueens of the East, my father's prisoners, stand,A cloud of Orient webs and tangling gold.And there upon the floor, the blood, the oldBlack blood, yet crawls and cankers, like a rotIn the stone! And on our father's chariotThe murderer's foot stands glorying, and the redFalse hand uplifts that ancient staff, that ledThe armies of the world!... Aye, tell him howThe grave of Agamemnon, even now,Lacketh the common honour of the dead;A desert barrow, where no tears are shed,No tresses hung, no gift, no myrtle spray.And when the wine is in him, so men say,Our mother's mighty master leaps thereon,Spurning the slab, or pelteth stone on stone,Flouting the lone dead and the twain that live:"Where is thy son Orestes? Doth he giveThy tomb good tendance? Or is all forgot?"So is he scorned because he cometh not....

O Stranger, on my knees, I charge thee, tellThis tale, not mine, but of dumb wrongs that swellCrowding--and I the trumpet of their pain,This tongue, these arms, this bitter burning brain;These dead shorn locks, and he for whom they died!His father slew Troy's thousands in their pride;He hath but one to kill.... O God, but one!Is he a man, and Agamemnon's son?

LEADER.But hold: is this thy husband from the plain,His labour ended, hasting home again?

(Enter the PEASANT.)

PEASANT.Ha, who be these? Strange men in arms beforeMy house! What would they at this lonely door?Seek they for me?--Strange gallants should not stayA woman's goings.

ELECTRA.Friend and helper!--Nay,Think not of any evil. These men beFriends of Orestes, charged with words for me!...Strangers, forgive his speech.

PEASANT.What word have theyOf him? At least he lives and sees the day!

ELECTRA.So fares their tale--and sure I doubt it not!

PEASANT.And ye two still are living in his thought,Thou and his father?

ELECTRA.In his dreams we live.An exile hath small power.

PEASANT.And did he giveSome privy message?

ELECTRA.None: they come as spiesFor news of me.

PEASANT.Thine outward news their eyesCan see; the rest, methinks, thyself will tell.

ELECTRA.They have seen all, heard all. I trust them well.

PEASANT.Why were our doors not open long ago?--Be welcome, strangers both, and pass belowMy lintel. In return for your glad wordsBe sure all greeting that mine house affordsIs yours.--Ye followers, bear in their gear!--Gainsay me not; for his sake are ye dearThat sent you to our house; and though my partIn life be low, I am no churl at heart.

(The PEASANT goes to the ARMED SERVANTS at the back, to help them with the baggage.)

ORESTES (aside to ELECTRA).Is this the man that shields thy maidenhoodUnknown, and will not wrong thy father's blood?

ELECTRA.He is called my husband. 'Tis for him I toil.

ORESTES.How dark lies honour hid! And what turmoilIn all things human: sons of mighty menFallen to naught, and from ill seed againGood fruit: yea, famine in the rich man's scrollWrit deep, and in poor flesh a lordly soul.As, lo, this man, not great in Argos, notWith pride of house uplifted, in a lotOf unmarked life hath shown a prince's grace.(To the PEASANT, who has returned.)All that is here of Agamemnon's race,And all that lacketh yet, for whom we come,Do thank thee, and the welcome of thy homeAccept with gladness.--Ho, men; hasten yeWithin!--This open-hearted povertyIs blither to my sense than feasts of gold.

Lady, thine husband's welcome makes me bold;Yet would thou hadst thy brother, before allConfessed, to greet us in a prince's hall!Which may be, even yet. Apollo spakeThe word; and surely, though small store I makeOf man's divining, God will fail us not.

(ORESTES and PYLADES go in, following the SERVANTS.)

LEADER.O never was the heart of hope so hotWithin me. How? So moveless in time past,Hath Fortune girded up her loins at last?

ELECTRA.Now know'st thou not thine own ill furniture,To bid these strangers in, to whom for sureOur best were hardship, men of gentle breed?

PEASANT.Nay, if the men be gentle, as indeedI deem them, they will take good cheer or illWith even kindness.

ELECTRA.'Twas ill done; but still--Go, since so poor thou art, to that old friendWho reared my father. At the realm's last endHe dwells, where Tanaos river foams betweenArgos and Sparta. Long time hath he beenAn exile 'mid his flocks. Tell him what thingHath chanced on me, and bid him haste and bringMeat for the strangers' tending.--Glad, I trow,That old man's heart will be, and many a vowWill lift to God, to learn the child he stoleFrom death, yet breathes.--I will not ask a doleFrom home; how should my mother help me? Nay,I pity him that seeks that door, to sayOrestes liveth!

PEASANT.Wilt thou have it so?I will take word to the old man. But goQuickly within, and whatso there thou findSet out for them. A woman, if her mindSo turn, can light on many a pleasant thingTo fill her board. And surely plenishingWe have for this one day.--'Tis in such shiftsAs these, I care for riches, to make giftsTo friends, or lead a sick man back to healthWith ease and plenty. Else small aid is wealthFor daily gladness; once a man be doneWith hunger, rich and poor are all as one.

(The PEASANT goes off to the left; ELECTRA goes into the house.)