Authors: J. W. von Goethe,David Luke
Hail, caverns rich with mysteries!
Fire, water, air, and earth as well:
You elements all four, all hail!
[
Enter
HELEN
and the
CHORUS
of captive Trojan
women
,
PANTHALIS,
leader of the Chorus
.]
HELEN
. So much admired and so much censured, Helena,
Now from the sea I come; we are not long ashore,
And drunken still with rocking upon the lively waves
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Which on their high-uptossing backs, from Troy’s wide plain,
By great Poseidon’s favour and by the east wind’s force
Brought us once more to harbours of our fatherland.
Down there the king, my husband Menelaus, now
With his most valiant fighters feasts his homecoming.
But you must bid your queen here welcome, noble house
Built by my father Tyndareus on his return,
Nearby the slopes of Pallas Athene’s lofty hill:
Here with my sister Clytemnestra and the twins
Castor and Pollux happily playing I grew up, 8500
While he adorned it like no other in the land.
All hail to you now, mighty doors of bronze! You once
Stood open wide in hospitable welcome, when
It came about that Menelaus, the elect
Of many wooers, shiningly appeared to me.
Let them once more be opened! for as a loyal wife
I must fulfil an urgent bidding of the king.
So let me enter, and let all the storms of fate
That have been raging round me now be left behind.
For since I crossed this threshold last, as duty bade,
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All unsuspecting, visiting Cythera’s shrine,
And there was ravished by an adventurer from Troy,
Much has befallen: far and wide men tell the tale
And take their pleasure in it. But no tale can please
One round whose name long legend spins its false report.
CHORUS
. Most noble lady, do not despise
What is yours with honour, this highest of gifts!
For supreme good fortune is yours alone
In the fame of beauty, excelling all.
A hero’s name before him resounds,
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And he walks with pride.
But even the most stiff-necked of men
Before all-conquering Beauty will bow.
HELEN
. Enough! My husband brought me back in his own ships
And to his city sends me now ahead of him:
But what his purpose may be, that I cannot guess.
Do I come here as wife? Do I come here as queen?
Or will the king avenge on me his bitter grief
And all these long misfortunes that the Greeks have borne?
I am a prize of war, perhaps a prisoner!
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For by heaven’s will, my reputation is two-edged
As is my fate—and both, the ambiguous followers
Of beauty, even now beset me with their dark
And menacing presence, on this threshold of my home.
For on the hollow ship, indeed, my husband looked
Askance at me and seldom; no good word he spoke,
But sitting opposite me, seemed to brood on evil things.
Then, when the first ships’ prows advanced into the deep
Eurotas estuary and had scarcely touched the land
In greeting, then he spoke, as if divinely moved:
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‘Here in due order all my men will disembark
And on the sea’s shore stand for me to muster them.
You, for your part, proceed up-river, ride along
Sacred Eurotas’ fruitful banks, and travel on,
Guiding the horses through the rich moist meadowlands,
Until you reach the city in its noble plain:
Here Lacedaemon, once a wide and fertile field,
Was built in our grave mountains’ far-surrounding shade.
Enter the high-towered palace then, and muster all
The women, our maidservants whom I left behind,
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Also that wise old beldame, keeper of the house.
Next bid her show you my rich treasury of wealth,
Bequeathed us by your father, which I have myself
Nurtured with constant increase both in peace and war.
All will be in good order, you will find it so;
It is the ruler’s privilege, on returning home,
To find his house unchanged and all things faithfully
Preserved and in their place, as when he left them there;
For servants make no change without authority.’
CHORUS
. Now feast your eyes on this ever-new
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And most splendid treasure, refreshing your heart!
For here they lie, the bejewelled crowns
And necklaces, self-complacent and proud;
But enter, challenging them yourself:
They will spring to arms!
I watch with joy when beauty makes war
Against gold and gems and pearls of great price.
HELEN
. Thus then my lord spoke further with commanding words:
‘Next, having passed all things in orderly review,
Take brazier tripods, judging how many are required,
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And all such vessels as the celebrant may need
To have to hand for sacred sacrificial rites:
The pots, the dishes for the blood, the offering-dish.
Let purest water from the holy spring be poured
Into tall jars; and bring dry wood that rapidly
Catches the hot flames; all this hold in readiness,
And not forgetting, lastly, a well-sharpened knife.
As for the rest, I must entrust it to your care.’
So saying, he motioned me to leave; but careful though
His orders were, they told me of no living thing,
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No offering he would slaughter for the Olympian gods.
This troubles me; and yet I put this care aside,
Letting all these things lie upon the high gods’ lap
Who must and will accomplish all they have in mind,
Whether by human reckoning it be counted good
Or evil. We must bear it, being mortal men.
Often it has happened that the sacrificial priest
Has raised the sharp blade over the cowering victim’s neck
But could not strike the blow, because his hand was stayed
By intervention of some enemy or some god.
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CHORUS
. To discern the future is not in our power;
So with good courage, oh queen,
Enter the house!
Good and ill fortune come
Upon man without warning;
We disbelieve even what is foretold.
Was not Troy burning, did we not see
Death confronting us, shameful death?
And are we not here,
Your companions, serving you gladly,
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Seeing the dazzling sun in the heavens
And earth’s loveliest treasure,
Fortunate that she favours us?
HELEN
. Be it or be it not so: whatever may befall,
I must without delay enter this royal house,
So longed for, lost for so long, almost for ever lost,
And which so strangely stands before me once again.
Less willingly my feet move now as they ascend
These lofty steps they tripped down lightly long ago. [
Exit
.]
CHORUS
. Sisters, you sorrowing
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Captives, now cast away,
Cast away all your suffering!
Share in her happiness,
Our lady’s happiness:
Helen has now returned with joy,
To her hearth and her home she comes,
Tardy her steps, yet all the more
Firmly and surely they bring her.
Praise to the sacred gods,
They give us life again,
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They grant blessed homecoming!
For the freed prisoner
Hovers like one on wings
Over the harshest way, while there
In his bondage another grieves
Vainly in longing outstretching his
Arms over walls that enclose him.
But her exile ended when
She was snatched up
By a god out of Troy’s
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Ruins and carried back here
To her ancient, newly adorned
Ancestral halls,
And after nameless
Joys and sufferings
To remembered youth
Brought to life once more for her.
PANTHALIS
[
as leader of the Chorus]
.
Step now aside from the delectable path of song
And turn your eyes to the great doorway of the house!
What is this, sisters? Is the queen not coming back
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To us, in agitation and with hasty steps?
Great queen, what is the matter? What alarming thing
In your own palace halls, instead of the greetings of
Your servants, can have encountered you? You do not hide
Your deep repugnance, for I see upon your brow
A noble anger written, fighting with surprise.
HELEN
[
entering in agitation, leaving the doors wide open
].
To show base fear befits no daughter of high Zeus;
No fleeting slight alarm can set its hand on her.
But when some horror from the womb of ancient night,
Risen from the primal depths, is belched like burning cloud,
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Still manifold in shape, from the fire-mountain’s maw,
Then nameless dread strikes even the heroic heart.
So it has been today: the gods of hell have marked
My entry to this house with terror, so that on
This once familiar, long desired threshold now
I turn my back, and flee it like a guest dismissed.
But no! thus far I yield, into the light: you shall
Not drive me further, whatever powers you may be!
I will reconsecrate the hearth: the fire will then
Be purified to greet its mistress and its lord.
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CHORUS
. Most noble lady, your devoted servants stand Here to support you: tell us what strange thing befell!
HELEN
. With your own eyes you too shall see what I have seen,
If ancient night has not at once gulped back the shape
Again into its deep dark womb of mysteries.
But that they may inform you, listen to my words:
No sooner had I solemnly, reflecting on
The king’s next order, entered the silent royal rooms
And passages within, than their bleak emptiness
Struck me. No sound of diligent footsteps could I hear,
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I saw no busy haste of movement to and fro,
No serving-maid appeared to me, no housekeeper,
None such as welcomed any stranger in the past.
But as I neared the bosom of the house, the hearth,
There on the ground, where still some half-warm ashes glowed,
I saw her sitting—some tall shrouded woman’s form,
Not like a sleeper, but like one who meditates.
With stern commands I bade her set to work, for this,
As I supposed, was the housekeeper whom perhaps
My prudent husband left behind and set in charge;
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But folded on herself she still sat motionless,
Until at last, upon my threats, her right arm moved
And seemed to motion me away from hearth and hall.
I turned from her in anger, and approached the steps
That lead up to the bridal chamber, festively
Adorned, and close beside it stands the treasure-store.
But the uncanny thing rose quickly from the ground,
Barring my way commandingly, and there it stood,
Tall and cadaverous, with hollow bloodshot eyes,
So strangely shaped that it bewilders sight and mind.
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Yet I waste breath; for ever vainly words attempt
To recreate and recompose the forms we see.
Look for yourselves! She dares emerge into the light!
Here we are in control, until the king shall come:
The sun-god is the friend of beauty, and he drives
Vile night-born monsters underground, or masters them.
[
PHORCYAS
appears on the threshold between the doorposts
.]
CHORUS
. I have seen much, although still my brows are
Youthful, and youthful the locks that ring them!
Many the horrors that I have lived through:
War-harm’s wailing, murk of the night of
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Troy’s fall.
Through foggy clangour and through the dust-filled
Tumult of warriors, I heard the dreadful
Shouts of the gods, and over the field to the
City’s ramparts I heard the brazen Voice of strife.
Ah, Troy’s walls were not yet cast down,
But already the blazing fire
Leapt from neighbour to neighbour’s house,
Springing, spreading from here and there
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Through the night of the darkened city,
Blown by the wind of its own storm.
Fleeing, I saw through the smoke and heat
And the blaze of the writhing flames
Gods approaching in hideous rage:
Figures of wonder striding
Giant-tall through the darksome
Reek that swirled in the fire’s glow.
Did I see those things, or were they
Mere phantasms born in my fear-
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Tangled mind? That I never shall know;
But that I truly behold
This horror here and now with my eyes—
Of this indeed I am certain;
Even my hands could grasp it,
If I did not shrink back from it,
Sensing something of danger.
Which one are you among
Phorcys’s daughters?
For I must liken you
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To that generation.
Have you come here perhaps as one of the
Grey-born hags, the Graiae, who take
Turns, the three of them sharing
One eye, one tooth, between them?