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AESCHYLUS
THE EUMENIDES
[THE KINDLY ONES]
458 BC
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
Priestess : prophetic priestess (the Pythia) of Apollo at Delphi. Apollo : divine son of Zeus, god of prophecy. Orestes : son of Agamemnon and Clytaemnestra, brother of Electra. Clytaemnestra : mother of Orestes, appearing as a ghost after her murder. Chorus : Furies, goddesses of blood revenge. Athena : divine daughter of Zeus who was born fully grown from his head (without a mother). Athenian citizens Scene: The play opens just in front of the temple of Apollo at Delphi [Enter the Pythia, the Priestess of Apollo] PRIESTESS In my prayer, I hold Earth in highest honour, as the first of prophets among all gods. Then, after her came Themis. That goddess, so the legend goes, followed her mother at this seat of prophecy. Third in line, another Titan, Phoebe, child of Earth, was then assigned to occupy this throne. There was no force—Themis approved the change. Phoebe then gave it as a birthday gift to the god who takes his name from her, 10 Phoebus Apollo. He left the island Delos, moving from his lake and ridge to Pallas, [10] to those shores where ships sail in to trade. Then he came to live on Mount Parnassus. A reverential escort came with him— children of the fire god, Hephaestus, highway builders who tame the wilderness and civilize the land. As he marched here, people came out in droves to worship him, including their king and helmsman, Delphus. 20 Then Zeus inspired in him prophetic skills, and set him on this throne as fourth in line. Here Apollo speaks for Zeus, his father.
My prayers begin with preludes to these gods. [20] My words also give special prominence to the goddess who stands outside the shrine, Pallas Athena. I revere those nymphs inhabiting Corycia’s rocky caves, where flocks of birds delight to congregate, where holy spirits roam. I don’t forget 30 how Dionysus, ruler of this land, divine commander of those Bacchic women, ripped Pentheus apart, as if he were a cornered rabbit. I also call upon the streams of Pleistus and Poseidon’s power, and Zeus most high, who fulfills all things. I’ll take my seat now on the prophet’s throne. May I be fortunate, above the rest, [30] to see far more than previous attempts. If any Greeks are in attendance here, 40 let them draw lots and enter, each in turn, as is our custom. I will prophesy, following directions from the god. [The Priestess enters the temple, only to return immediately, very agitated. She collapses onto her hands and knees] It’s horrible! Too horrible to say... awful to see. It drives me back... out of Apollo’s shrine. My strength is gone... I can’t stand up. I have to crawl on hands and knees—my legs just buckle under me... An old woman overcome with fear is nothing, a child. No more... [The Priestess gathers herself together and stands with great difficulty, holding onto the temple doors for support] As I was entering the inner shrine— 50 the part covered up with wreaths—I saw him, [40] right on the central navel stone, a man the gods despise, sitting there, in the seat reserved for suppliants, hands dripping blood. He’d drawn his sword, but held an olive branch. It had a tuft of wool on top, a mark
despise them. But you should still keep going. Do not give up. They’ll chase you everywhere, as you move along well-traveled ground, across wide continents, beyond the seas, through cities with the ocean all around. Don’t grow weary brooding on your pain. And then, once you reach Athena’s city, sit down, and wrap your arms around her, 100 [80] embrace her image. With people there to judge your cause and with the force of speech, the spell-binding power in words, we’ll find a way to free you from misfortune. For I was the one who urged you on to kill your mother. ORESTES My lord Apollo, you have no knowledge how to be unjust. That being the case, now learn compassion, too. Your power to do good is strong enough. APOLLO Remember this—don’t let fear defeat you 110 by conquering your spirit. And you, Hermes, [90] my own blood brother from a common father, protect this man. Live up to that name of yours, and be his guide. Since he’s my suppliant, lead him as if you were his shepherd— remember Zeus respects an outcast’s rights— with you to show the way, he’ll get better, and quickly come among men once again. [Exit Orestes. Apollo moves back into the inner sanctuary. Enter the Ghost of Clytaemnestra] GHOST OF CLYTAEMNESTRA [addressing the sleeping chorus] Ah, you may be fast asleep, but now what use is sleeping? On account of you, 120 I alone among the dead lack honour. The ghosts of those I killed revile me— they never stop. I wander in disgrace. They charge me with the most horrific crimes. But I, too, suffered cruelty from those [100] most dear to me. And yet, although I died
at the hands of one who killed his mother, no spirit is enraged on my behalf. Look here—you see these slashes on my heart? How did they get there? While it’s asleep 130 the mind can see, but in the light of day we have no vision of men’s destiny. You’ve licked up many of my offerings, soothing milk and honey without wine. I’ve given many sacrificial gifts with fire in my hearth at solemn banquets, in that night hour no god will ever share. I see all that being trampled underfoot. [110] He’s gone, eluded you—just like a fawn, he’s jumped the centre of your nets with ease. 140 He mocks your efforts as he moves away. Listen to me. I’m speaking of my soul. So rouse yourselves! Wake up, you goddesses from underground. While you dream on I call— now Clytaemnestra summons you! [The members of the Chorus begin to make strange sounds and to mutter in their sleep] You may well moan—the man’s escaped. He’s gone. [120] He’s flown a long way off. The friends he has are stronger than my own. You sleep on there so heavily, no sense of my distress. Orestes, the man who killed his mother, 150 has run off! You mutter, but keep sleeping. On your feet!. Why won’t you get up? What work has fate assigned you if not causing pain? Sleep and hard work, two apt confederates, have made these fearsome dragons impotent, draining all their rage. CHORUS MEMBER [muttering in her sleep] Seize him! Seize him! Seize him! Seize that man! Look out! [130] GHOST OF CLYTAEMNESTRA You hunt your prey, but only in your dreams, whimpering like hounds who never lose their keenness for the hunt. But you don’t act! 160 Get up! Don’t let exhaustion beat you down.
deep in my gut. 190 -I feel the executioner’s scourge, [160] the one who wields a heavy lash, weighed down with pain. -Younger gods are doing this— they push their ruling power beyond what’s theirs by right. Their throne drips blood around its foot, around its head. -I see Earth’s central navel stone 200 defiled with blood, corrupted, stained with guilt. -The prophet soils the hearth, pollutes the shrine himself, [170] acting on his own behalf. against divine tradition, he honours human things. -He sets aside decrees of fate established long ago. -Though he inflict his pain on me, 210 he’ll never free that man. Let him flee underground, he’ll find no liberty below. -As he seeks to cleanse himself he’ll meet the next avenger— a family member coming for his head. [Enter Apollo from the inner part of the shrine] APOLLO Get out! I’m ordering you to leave this house. Move on! Out of my prophet’s sanctuary! [180] Go now, or else you’ll feel my arrows bite, glittering winged snakes shot from a golden string. 220 Then, your agonies will make you choke, spit out black froth you suck from men,
and vomit up the clotted blood you’ve drunk from murder. This shrine’s no place for you. No, you belong where heads are sliced away, eyes gouged out—where justice equals slaughter— where youthful men are ruined by castration, where others suffer mutilation, stoning, where men impaled on spikes below the spine scream all the time. That’s the feast you love. 230 [190] You hear me? And that’s why gods detest you. The way you look, your shape, says what you are— some blood-soaked lion’s den might be your home. You must not infect those near this temple with your pollution. So leave this place, you flock without a shepherd, you herd the gods despise. CHORUS LEADER Lord Apollo, listen to what we say. It’s our turn to speak. You’re no mere accomplice in this crime— you did it all yourself. You bear the guilt. 240 [200] APOLLO What does that mean? Go on. Keep talking. CHORUS LEADER You told that stranger to kill his mother. APOLLO To avenge his father is what I said. What’s wrong with that? CHORUS LEADER Then you supported him. You helped a man who’d just committed murder. APOLLO And I instructed him to come back here to expiate his crime. CHORUS LEADER Then why insult us, the ones who chased him here? APOLLO It’s not right
Don’t try to curb my powers with your words. APOLLO Your powers? Those I wouldn’t take, not even as a gift. CHORUS LEADER Of course not. You’re already great, by all accounts— right by Zeus’ throne. But for my part, since I’m called onward by a mother’s blood, [230] I’ll chase this man with justice of my own. 280 I scent the trail! APOLLO I’ll help my suppliant and bring him safely home. With gods and men the anger of a man who seeks redemption will be dreadful, if, of my own free will, I abandon him. [Apollo exits into the inner shrine. The scene now changes to Athens, just outside the Temple of Athena. Orestes enters and move up to the large statue of Athena] ORESTES Queen Athena, I’ve come here on Apollo’s orders. I beg your kindness. Please let me enter, a man accursed, an outcast. I don’t seek ritual purification—my hands are clean— but my avenging zeal has lost its edge, 290 worn down, blunted by other people’s homes, by all well-beaten pathways known to men. I’ve stayed true to what Apollo told me at his oracle. Crossing land and sea, [240] I’ve reached this statue by your shrine at last. Here I take up my position, goddess. I await the outcome of my trial. [Enter the Furies, like hunting dogs, still tracking Orestes by his scent. They do not see him at first] CHORUS LEADER Ah ha! Here we have that man’s clear scent, a silent witness, but firm evidence. After him! Like hounds chasing a wounded fawn,
300 we track him by the drops of blood he sheds. Man-killing work—the effort wearies me. My lungs are bursting. We’ve roamed everywhere, exploring all the regions of the earth, crossing seas in wingless flight, moving on [250] faster than any ship, always in pursuit. Now he’s cornered here, cowering somewhere. I smell human blood—I could laugh for joy! Start looking for him! Seek him out again! Check everywhere. Don’t let him escape. 310 That man killed his mother—he must pay! [The Chorus of Furies catch sight of Orestes and crowd around him] CHORUS [different individuals] -He’s over there! Claiming sanctuary, at that statue of the eternal goddess, embracing it. He must want a trial, a judgment on his murderous violence. [260] -Impossible! A mother’s blood, once shed, soaks in the earth and can’t come back again— the flowing stream moves through the ground, then disappears forever. -No. You must pay me back. I’ll suck your blood. 320 Drinking your living bones sustains me— I feed upon your pain. -Though it wears me out, I’ll drag you down, still living, to the world below. And there you’ll pay for murdering your mother. -You’ll see there other human criminals who’ve failed to honour gods and strangers, [270] who’ve abused the parents they should love. They all receive the justice they deserve. -Hades, mighty god of all the dead, 330 judges mortal men below the ground. His perceptive mind records all things. ORESTES
370 [Orestes continues to remain silent] All right then, hear our song, a spell to chain you. CHORUS Come, let’s link our arms and dance— Furies determined to display our fearful art, to demonstrate collective power we possess [310] to guide all mortals’ lives. We claim we represent true justice. Our anger never works against a man whose hands are clean— all his life he stays unharmed. 380 But those men guilty of some crime, as this one is, who hide away, concealing blood-stained hands— we harass them as testament to those they’ve murdered. Blood avengers, always in pursuit, we chase them to the end. [320] Hear me, Mother Night, mother who gave birth to me so I could avenge 390 the living and the dead. Leto’s child, Apollo, dishonours me—he tears that man out of my hands, the hare who cowers there, who by rights must expiate his mother’s blood. Let this frenzied song of ours fall upon our victim’s head, our sacrifice—our frenzy 400 driving him to madness— obliterate his mind. [330] This is our Furies’ chant It chains up the soul, destroys its harmony,
and withers mortal men. Remorseless Fate gave us this work to carry on forever, a destiny spun out for us alone, to attach ourselves to those 410 who, overcome with passion, slaughter blood relatives. We chase after them until the end, until they go beneath the ground. In death they find small freedom. [340] Let this frenzied song of ours fall upon our victim’s head, our sacrifice—our frenzy driving him to madness— obliterate his mind. 420 This is our Furies’ chant. It chains up the soul, destroys its harmony, and withers mortal men. These rights are ours from birth— even the immortal gods [350] may not lay hands on us. We share no feasts with them, no fellowship—their pure white robes are no part of our destiny. 430 The task I take upon myself is mine, to overthrow whole families, when strife inside the home kills someone near and dear. We chase that murderer down, the one who’s spilled fresh blood. For all his strength, we wear him down. That’s why we’re now here, eager to contest the charge, to challenge other gods, 440 [360] to make sure none of them ends up controlling what is ours. There will be no trial—
We have our skills— our powers we fulfill, keeping human evil in our minds. Our awesome powers cannot be appeased by men. Dishonoured and despised, we see our work gets done. Split off from gods, with no light from the sun, 490 we make the path more arduous for those who still can see and for the blind. What man is not in awe or stands there unafraid [390] to hear me state my rights, those powers allowed by Fate and ratified by all the gods, mine to hold forever? Those old prerogatives 500 I still retain—they’re mine. I have my honour, too, though my appointed place is underneath the ground in sunless darkness. [Enter Athena] ATHENA I heard someone summon me from far away. I was in Troy, by the Scamander’s banks, taking ownership of new property, a gift from ruling leaders of Achaea, a major part of what their spears had won, 510 [400] assigned to me entirely and forever, a splendid gift for Theseus’ sons. I’ve come from there at my untiring pace, not flying on wings, but on this whirling cape, a chariot yoked to horses in their prime. Here I see an unfamiliar crowd, strangers to this place, nothing I fear, but astonishing to see. Who are you? I’m talking to all those assembled here—
the stranger crouching there beside my statue, 520 and those of you like no one ever born, [410] creatures no god has seen in goddesses, in form a thing unknown to mortal men. But to say such things about one’s neighbour who’s done no wrong is far from just and contravenes our customs. CHORUS LEADER Daughter of Zeus, you’ll find out everything—and briefly, too. We are immortal children of the Night. Below ground, where we have our homes, we’re called the Curses. ATHENA Now I know your race 530 I know what people call you. CHORUS LEADER But our powers— these you’ll quickly ascertain as well. ATHENA Those I’d like to learn. Please state them clearly. [420] CHORUS LEADER We hound out of their homes all those who kill. ATHENA Once the killer flees, where does he finally go? CHORUS LEADER Where no one thinks of joy, for there is none. ATHENA Your screams would drive this man to such a flight? CHORUS LEADER Yes—he thought it right to kill his mother. ATHENA Why? Was he forced to do it? Did he fear another person’s anger? CHORUS LEADER Where’s the urge
Speak to me. Address all this directly. ORESTES Queen Athena, your last words express important doubts which I must first remove. I’m not a suppliant in need of cleansing. Nor have I fallen at your statue’s feet with my hands defiled. On these two points I’ll offer weighty proof. Our laws assert a criminal polluted with blood guilt 570 will be denied all speech until he’s cleansed by someone authorized to purify a man for murder, who sprinkles him with suckling victim’s blood. Some time ago, [450] in homes of other men, I underwent such purification rites with slaughtered beasts, at flowing streams, as well. So, as I say, there are no grounds for your misgivings here. As for my family, you’ll know that soon enough— I’m an Argive, son of Agamemnon. 580 You may well ask his story—he’s the man who put that naval force together. You worked with him to see that Ilion, Troy’s city, ceased to be. When he came home, he died in a disgraceful way, butchered by my mother, whose black heart snagged him [460] in devious hunting nets—these still exist, attesting to that slaughter in his bath. I was in exile at the time. I came back. I killed my mother—that I don’t deny— 590 to avenge the murder of my father, whom I truly loved. For this murder Apollo bears responsibility, along with me. He urged me to it, pointing out the cruel reprisals I would face if I failed to act against the murderers. Was what I did a righteous act or not? That you must decide. I’ll be satisfied, no matter how you render judgment. ATHENA This is a serious matter, too complex 600 [470]
for any mortal man to think of judging. It’s not right even for me to adjudicate such cases, where murder done in passion merits passionate swift punishment. Above all, you come here a suppliant who’s gone through all cleansing rituals, who’s pure and hence no danger to my shrine. You thus have my respect, for in my view, where my city is concerned, you’re innocent. But these Furies also have their function. 610 That’s something we just cannot set aside. So if they fail to triumph in this case, they’ll spread their poisonous resentment— it will seep underground, infecting us, bring perpetual disease upon our land, something we can’t bear. So stands the case. [480] Two options, each of them disastrous. Allow one to remain, expel the other? No, I see no way of resolving this. But since the judgment now devolves on me, 620 I’ll appoint human judges of this murder, a tribunal bound by oath—I’ll set it up to last forever. So you two parties, summon your witnesses, set out your proofs, with sworn evidence to back your stories. Once I’ve picked the finest men in Athens, I’ll return. They’ll rule fairly in this case, bound by a sworn oath to act with justice. [Exit Athena] CHORUS If his legal action triumphs, [490] if now this matricide prevails, 630 then newly set divine decrees will overthrow all order. Mortals will at once believe that everything’s permitted. From now on parents can expect repeated blows of suffering inflicted by their children— now and in time yet to come. For Furies who keep watch on men
