The Oresteia: Agamemnon, the Libation-Bearers & the Furies (30 page)

 

Here from the heights, terror and reverence,
my people’s kindred powers
will hold them from injustice through the day
and through the mild night. Never pollute
our law with innovations. No, my citizens,
foul a clear well and you will suffer thirst.

 

Neither anarchy nor tyranny, my people.
Worship the Mean, I urge you,
shore it up with reverence and never
banish terror from the gates, not outright.
Where is the righteous man who knows no fear?
The stronger your fear, your reverence for the just,
the stronger your country’s wall and city’s safety,
stronger by far than all men else possess
in Scythia’s rugged steppes or Pelops’ level plain.
Untouched by lust for spoil, this court of law
majestic, swift to fury, rising above you
as you sleep, our night watch always wakeful,
guardian of our land - I found it here and now.

 

So I urge you, Athens. I have drawn this out
to rouse you to your future. You must rise,
each man must cast his lot and judge the case,
reverent to his oath. Now I have finished.

 

LEADER:

Beware. Our united force can break your land.
Never wound our pride, I tell you, never.

 

APOLLO:

The oracles, not mine alone but Zeus’s, too—
dread them, I warn you, never spoil their fruit.

 

LEADER:

You dabble in works of blood beyond your depth.
Oracles, your oracles will be stained forever.

 

APOLLO:

Oh, so the Father’s judgement faltered when Ixion,
the first man-slayer, came to him for purging?

 

LEADER:

Talk on, talk on. But if I lose this trial
I will return in force to crush the land.

 

 

APOLLO:

Never - among the gods, young and old,
you go disgraced. I will triumph over you!

 

LEADER:

Just as you triumphed in the house of Pheres,
luring the Fates to set men free from death.

 

APOLLO:

What? - is it a crime to help the pious man,
above all, when his hour of need has come?

 

LEADER:

You brought them down, the oldest realms of order,
seduced the ancient goddesses with wine.

 

APOLLO:

You
will fail this trial - in just a moment
spew your venom and never harm your enemies.

 

LEADER:

You’d ride me down, young god, for all my years?
Well here I stand, waiting to learn the verdict.
Torn with doubt . . . to rage against the city or -

 

ATHENA:

My work is here, to render the final judgement.
Orestes,

I will cast my lot for you.
No mother gave me birth.
I honour the male, in all things but marriage.
Yes, with all my heart I am my Father’s child.
I cannot set more store by the woman’s death -
she killed her husband, guardian of their house.
Even if the vote is equal, Orestes wins.

 

Shake the lots from the urns. Quickly,
you of the jury charged to make the count.

 

ORESTES:

O God of the Light, Apollo, how will the verdict go?

 

LEADER:

O Night, dark mother, are you watching now?

 

ORESTES:

Now for the goal - the noose, or the new day I

 

LEADER:

Now we go down, or forge ahead in power.

 

APOLLO:

Shake out the lots and count them fairly, friends.
Honour Justice. An error in judgement now
can mean disaster. The cast of a single lot
restores a house to greatness.

 

ATHENA:

The man goes free,
cleared of the charge of blood. The lots are equal.

 

ORESTES:

O Pallas Athena - you, you save my house!
I was shorn of the fatherland but you
reclaim it for me. Now any Greek will say,
‘He lives again, the man of Argos lives
on his fathers’ great estates. Thanks to Pallas,
Apollo and Zeus, the lord of all fulfilment,
Third, Saving Zeus.’ He respected father’s death,
looked down on mother’s advocates -
Indicating the
FURIES.
he saved me.

 

And now I journey home. But first I swear
to you, your land and assembled host, I swear
by the future years that bring their growing yield
that no man, no helmsman of Argos wars on Athens,
spears in the vanguard moving out for conquest.
We ourselves, even if we must rise up from the grave,
will deal with those who break the oath I take -
baffle them with disasters, curse their marches,
send them hawks on the left at every crossing -
make their pains recoil upon their heads.
But all who keep our oath, who uphold your rights
and citadel for ever, comrades spear to spear,
we bless with all the kindness of our heart.

 

Now farewell, you and the people of your city.
Good wrestling - a grip no foe can break.
A saving hope, a spear to bring you triumph!

 

FURIES:

You, you younger gods! - you have ridden down
the ancient laws, wrenched them from my grasp -
and I, robbed of my birthright, suffering, great with wrath,
I loose my poison over the soil, aieee! -
poison to match my grief comes pouring out my heart,
cursing the land to burn it sterile and now
rising up from its roots a cancer blasting leaf and child,
now for Justice, Justice! - cross the face of the earth
the bloody tide comes hurling, all mankind destroyed.
. . . Moaning, only moaning? What will I do?
The mockery of it, Oh unbearable,
mortified by Athens,
we the daughters of Night,
our power stripped, cast down.

 

ATHENA:

Yield to me.
No more heavy spirits. You were not defeated -
the vote was tied, a verdict fairly reached
with no disgrace to you, no, Zeus brought
luminous proof before us. He who spoke
god’s oracle, he bore witness that Orestes
did the work but should not suffer harm.

 

And now you’d vent your anger, hurt the land?
Consider a moment. Calm yourself. Never
render us barren, raining your potent showers
down like spears, consuming every seed.
By all my rights I promise you your seat
in the depths of earth, yours by all rights -
stationed at hearths equipped with glistening thrones,
covered with praise ! My people will revere you.

 

FURIES:

You, you younger gods! - you have ridden down
the ancient laws, wrenched them from my grasp -
and I, robbed of my birthright, suffering, great with wrath,
I loose my poison over the soil, aieee! -
poison to match my grief comes pouring out my heart,
cursing the land to burn it sterile and now
rising up from its roots a cancer blasting leaf and child,
now for Justice, Justice! - cross the face of the earth
the bloody tide comes hurling, all mankind destroyed.
. . . Moaning, only moaning? What will I do?
The mockery of it, Oh unbearable,
mortified by Athens,
we the daughters of Night,
our power stripped, cast down.

 

ATHENA:

You have your power,
you are goddesses - but not to turn
on the world of men and ravage it past cure.
I put my trust in Zeus and . . . must I add this?
I am the only god who knows the keys
to the armoury where his lightning-bolt is sealed.
No need of that, not here.
Let me persuade you.
The lethal spell of your voice, never cast it
down on the land and blight its harvest home.
Lull asleep that salt black wave of anger -
awesome, proud with reverence, live with me.
The land is rich, and more, when its first fruits,
offered for heirs and the marriage rites, are yours
to hold forever, you will praise my words.

 

FURIES:

But for me to suffer such disgrace . . . I,
the proud heart of the past, driven under the earth,
condemned, like so much filth,
and the fury in me breathing hatred -
O good Earth,
what is this stealing under the breast,
what agony racks the spirit? . . . Night, dear Mother Night !
All’s lost, our ancient powers torn away by their cunning,
ruthless hands, the gods so hard to wrestle down
obliterate us all.

 

ATHENA:

I will bear with your anger.
You are older. The years have taught you more,
much more than I can know. But Zeus, I think,
gave me some insight, too, that has its merits.
If you leave for an alien land and alien people,
you will come to love this land, I promise you.
As time flows on, the honours flow through all
my citizens, and you, throned in honour
before the house of Erechtheus, will harvest
more from men and women moving in solemn file
than you can win throughout the mortal world.

 

Here in our homeland never cast the stones
that whet our bloodlust. Never waste our youth,
inflaming them with the burning wine of strife.
Never pluck the heart of the battle cock
and plant it in our people - intestine war
seething against themselves. Let our wars
rage on abroad, with all their force, to satisfy
our powerful lust for fame. But as for the bird
that fights at home - my curse on civil war.

 

This is the life I offer, it is yours to take.
Do great things, feel greatness, greatly honoured.
Share this country cherished by the gods.

 

FURIES:

But for me to suffer such disgrace . . . I,
the proud heart of the past, driven under the earth,
condemned, like so much filth,
and the fury in me breathing hatred -
O good Earth,
what is this stealing under the breast,
what agony racks the spirit? . . . Night, dear Mother Night!
All’s lost, our ancient powers torn away by their cunning,
ruthless hands, the gods so hard to wrestle down
obliterate us all.

 

ATHENA:

No, I will never tire
of telling you your gifts. So that you,
the older gods, can never say that I,
a young god and the mortals of my city
drove you outcast, outlawed from the land.

 

But if you have any reverence for Persuasion,
the majesty of Persuasion,
the spell of my voice that would appease your fury -
Oh please stay . . .
and if you refuse to stay,
it would be wrong, unjust to afflict this city
with wrath, hatred, populations routed. Look,
it is all yours, a royal share of our land -
justly entitled, glorified for ever.

 

LEADER:

Queen Athena,
where is the home you say is mine to hold?

 

ATHENA:

Where all the pain and anguish end. Accept it.

 

LEADER:

And if I do, what honour waits for me?

 

ATHENA:

No house can thrive without you.

 

LEADER:

You would do that,
grant me that much power?

 

ATHENA:

Whoever reveres us -
we will raise the fortunes of their lives.

 

LEADER:

And you will pledge me that, for all time to come?

 

ATHENA:

Yes - I must never promise things I cannot do.

 

LEADER:

Your magic is working . . . I can feel the hate,
the fury slip away.

 

ATHENA:

At last! And now take root
in the land and win yourself new friends.

 

LEADER:

A spell -
what spell to sing? to bind the land for ever? Tell us.

 

ATHENA:

Nothing that strikes a note of brutal conquest. Only peace -
blessings, rising up from the earth and the heaving sea,
and down the vaulting sky let the wind-gods breathe
a wash of sunlight streaming through the land,
and the yield of soil and grazing cattle flood
our city’s life with power and never flag
with time. Make the seed of men live on,
the more they worship you the more they thrive.
I love them as a gardener loves his plants,
these upright men, this breed fought free of grief.
All that is yours to give.
And I,
in the trials of war where fighters burn for fame,
will never endure the overthrow of Athens -
all will praise her, victor city, pride of man.

 

FURIES:

I will embrace
one home with you, Athena,
never fail the city
you and Zeus almighty, you and Ares
hold as the fortress of the gods, the shield
of the high Greek altars, glory of the powers.
Spirit of Athens, hear my words, my prayer
like a prophet’s warm and kind,
that the rare good things of life
come rising crest on crest,
sprung from the rich black earth and
gleaming with the bursting flash of sun.

 

ATHENA:

These blessings I bestow on you, my people, gladly.
I enthrone these strong, implacable spirits here
and root them in our soil.
Theirs,
theirs to rule the lives of men,
it is their fated power.
But he who has never felt their weight,
or known the blows of life and how they fall,
the crimes of his fathers hale him towards their bar,
and there for all his boasts - destruction,
silent, majestic in anger,
crushes him to dust.