Читать книгу Book of illustrations : Ancient Tragedy - Эсхил, Aeschylus - Страница 3

PROLOGUE

The Permanent Scene is decorated to represent the facade of the Palace of Agamemnon, at Argos; the platform over the Central door appearing as a Watch-tower. At intervals along the front of the Palace, and especially by the three doors, are statues of Gods, amongst them Apollo, Zeus, and Hermes. The time is supposed to be night, verging on morning. Both Orchestra and Stage are vacant: only a Watchman is discovered on the Tower, leaning on his elbow, and gazing into the distance.

The Watchman soliloquizes on his toilsome task of watching all night through for the first sight of the signal which is to tell of the capture of Troy: he has kept his post for years, till the constellations which usher in winter and harvest-time are his familiar companions; he must endure weather and sleeplessness, and when he would sing to keep his spirits up he is checked by thoughts of his absent master's household, in which, he darkly hints, things are "not well." [He is settling himself into an easier posture, when suddenly he springs to his feet.] The beacon-fire at last! [He shouts the signal agreed upon, and begins dancing for joy.] Now all will be well; a little while and his hand shall touch the dear hand of his lord; and then – ah! "the weight of an ox rests on his tongue," but if the house had a voice it could tell a tale! [Exit to bring tidings to the queen.] {39}

PARODE, OR CHORUS-ENTRY

As if roused by the Watchman's shout, enter the Chorus: Twelve Elders of Argos: in the usual processional order, combining music, chanting and gesture-dance, to a rhythm conventionally associated with marching. They enter on the right (as if from the city), and the Processional Chant takes them gradually round the Orchestra towards the Thymele, or Altar of Dionysus, in the centre.

The Chorus in their Processional Chant open the general state of affairs, especially bringing out the doublesidedness of the situation [which is the key-note of the whole Drama]: the expected triumph over Troy, which cannot be far distant now, combined with misgivings as to misfortunes sure to come as nemesis for the dark deeds connected with the setting out of the expedition. They open thus:

They are going on to soliloquize how they themselves have been shut out of the glorious expedition, for, in matters of War, old age is but a return to boyhood; when {82}

The Chorus-Procession having reached the Thymele, turn towards the Stage. Meanwhile the great Central Door of the Stage has opened, and a solemn Procession filed out on the Stage, consisting of the Queen and her Attendants, bearing torches and incense, and offerings for the Gods; they have during the Choral Procession silently advanced to the different Statues along the front of the Palace, made offerings and commenced the sacrificial riles. When the Chorus turn towards the Stage, the whole Scene is ablaze with fires and trembling with clouds of incense, rich unguents perfume the whole Theatre, while a solemn Religious ritual is being celebrated in dumb show.

The Chorus break off their Processional Chant [keeping the same rhythm] to enquire what is the meaning of these solemn rites, and whether the Queen can solve their doubt, which wavers between hope and foreboding:

The Queen signifying, by a gesture, that the Ritual must not be interrupted by speech, the Chorus proceed to take their regular position round the Thymele, and address themselves to their {104}

PRELUDE

the Music, Poetry, and Gesture-dance changing from a March to a highly Lyrical rhythm; the evolutions of the Dance taking Right and Left hand directions, but without the Chorus quitting their position round the Altar.1

Strophe: during which the evolutions take a Right Hand direction.

The Chorus resume: though shut out from War their old age has still suasive power of song, and they can tell of the famous omen seen by the two kings and the whole army as they waited to embark: two eagles on the left devouring a pregnant hare:

Antistrophe: the same rhythm line for line as the Strophe, but the evolutions taking Left Hand direction.

and the Prophet Calchas interpreted; they shall lay Troy low, only beware lest the Victors suffer from the wrath of some God, Artemis who hates the eagle:

Epode: a different rhythm, and the evolutions without any special direction.

May some Healer, Calchas added, avert her wrath, lest she send delays upon the impatient host and irritate them to some dread deed, some sacrifice of children to haunt the house for ever! So he prophesied in piercing strains.

ENTRY-ODE

With a change of rhythm, the Chorus pass into their first regular Choral Ode; Strophes and Antistrophes as in the Prelude, but the Evolutions now leading them from the central Altar to the extreme Right and Left of the Orchestra.

Strophe I: Evolutions leading Chorus from Thymele to extreme Right of Orchestra.

It must be Zeus – no other God will suffice – Zeus alone who shall lift from my2 mind this cloud of anxiety;

Antistrophe I: Evolutions the same, rhythm for rhythm, as the Strophe, but leading the Chorus back from the Right of Orchestra to the central Altar.

For on Zeus, before whom all the elder Gods gave way, they must rely who are bent on getting all the wisdom of the wise. {168}

Strophe II: a change of rhythm: evolutions leading Chorus from the central Altar to the extreme Left of Orchestra.

Yes: Zeus leads men to wisdom by his fixed law that pain is gain; by instilling secret care in the heart, it may be in sleep, he forces the unwilling to yield to wiser thoughts: no doubt this anxiety is a gift of the Gods, whose might is irresistible. {176}

Antistrophe II: same rhythm, but evolutions leading back from Left of Orchestra to central Altar.

When Agamemnon, not repining, but tempering himself to the fate which smote him, waited amidst adverse winds and failing stores: {184}

Strophe III: fresh change of rhythm, Chorus moving to Right of Orchestra.

and the contrary winds kept sweeping down from the Strymon, and the host was being worn out with delays, and the prophet began to speak of 'one more charm against the wrath of Artemis, though a bitter one to the Chiefs,' {195}

Antistrophe III: same rhythm, movement back from Right of Orchestra to Altar.

at last the King spoke: great woe to disobey the prophet, great woe to slay my child! how shed a maiden's blood? yet how lose my expedition, my allies? May all be well in the end! {210}

Strophe IV: change of rhythm; movements to the left of Orchestra.

Antistrophe IV: back to Altar.

Strophe V: Altar to Sight of Orchestra.

Antistrophe V: Back to Altar.

EPISODE I

The Ritual on the Stage being now concluded, Clytaemnestra advances to the front. At the same moment the Choral Ode is finished and the Chorus take up their usual position during the Episodes, drawn up in two lilies in front of the Altar facing the Stage. They speak only by their Foreman (or Corypliceus), and use the ordinary Iambic Metre (equivalent to our Blank Verse).

The Foreman of the Chorus repeats his enquiries of Clytaemnestra as to the meaning of this sudden rejoicing, guardedly adding that it is his duty to pay respect to his lord's wife in his absence —Clytaemnestra announces that Troy has been taken this last night – rapid interchange of stichomuthic dialogue, the Chorus expressing their amazement as to how the news could travel so fast.

Cho. What herald could arrive with speed like this?

While the Chorus are still overcome with amazement, Clytaemnestra triumphs over the condition of Troy that morning: like a vessel containing oil and vinegar, the conquered, bewailing their first day of captivity over the corpses of husbands and sons, the victors enjoying their first rest free from the chill dews of night and the sentry's call – and all will be well, if they remember the rights of the Gods in their sack of the city: ah! may they not in their exultation commit some sacrilegious deed of plunder, forgetting that they have only reached the goal, and have the return to make! If they should, the curse of those who have perished might still awake against them [Cl. thus darkly harping upon her secret hope that vengeance may still overtake them for the sacrifice of her daughter.] {345}

Exit Clytaemnestra, with Attendants.

After a few words of triumph (in marching rhythm), that Zeus, protector of host and guest, has visited the proud Trojans, and brought them into a net of bondage that neither young nor full-grown can overleap, the Chorus proceed to a more formal expression of their feelings in {357}

CHORAL INTERLUDE I

breaking, as regularly in the Choral Odes, into highly Lyrical rhythms accompanied with Music and Gesture-dance, the evolutions of which lead them alternately to Right and Left of Orchestra and back to Altar.

Strophe I: evolutions from Altar to Right.

Yes: it is the hand of Zeus we may trace in all this! Now what will they say who contend that the Gods care not when mortal men trample under foot the inviolable? Troy knows better now, that once relied on its abounding wealth: ah! moderate fortune is best for the seeker after Wisdom; Wealth is no bulwark to those who in wantonness have spurned the altar of the Right and Just. {375}

Antistrophe I: evolutions front Right back to Altar, rhythm as in Strophe.

Such a man is urged on by Impulse, offspring of Infatuation, till his mischief stands out clear, as worthless bronze stripped of its varnish. So Paris sees now his light-hearted crime has brought his city low. He came to the house of the Sons of Atreus, and stole a Queen away, leaving Shame where he had sat as Guest. {392}

Strophe II: change of rhythm, evolutions from Altar to Left.

Antistrophe II: back to Altar.

Strophe III: change of rhythm, evolutions from Altar to Right.

War is a trafficker; in the rush of battle he holds scales, and for the golden coin you spend on him he sends you back lifeless shapes of men; they sent out men, the loving friends receive back well-smoothed ashes from the funeral pyre. They sing the heroic fall of some – all for another's wife; and some murmur discontent against the sons of Atreus, and some have won a grave in the land they had conquered. {441}

Antistrophe III: evolutions repeated, but from Right back to Altar.

So sullen discontent has been doing the work of a people's curse: therefore it is that I am awaiting with dim forebodings the full news. The Gods do not forget those who have shed much blood, and sooner or later the dark-robed Deities of the Curse consign the evil-doer to impassable, hopeless gloom. Away with the dazzling success that attracts the thunderbolt! be mine the moderate lot that neither causes nor suffers captivity. {458}

Epode: change of rhythm and Chorus not moving from the Altar.

The courier flame has brought good news – but who knows whether it be true? – Yet it is childish when the heart is all aglow with the message of the flame to be turned round by everchanging rumour. – Yet it is the nature of a woman to believe too soon. [Observe how the Chorus, setting out on an ode of triumph, have come back to their persistent forebodings.] {471}

Suddenly at the Side-door on the extreme Left of the Stage (signifying distance) appears a Herald, covered with dust, crowned with olive in token of victory. The Chorus immediately fall into their Episode position to receive him, the Foreman expressing their anticipations as the Herald traverses the long stage to the point opposite the Chorus.

EPISODE II

Foreman of Chorus. Now we shall have a clearer message than that of the beacon-fires: all is well or.. but I cannot put the other alternative. The Herald (arrived opposite the Chorus) solemnly salutes the land of Argos he had never hoped to see again, salutes the several Gods whose statues are now bright with the morning sun, especially Apollo who has proved himself a Healer, and Hermes, patron of Heralds; and then announces Agamemnon is close at hand, victorious over Troy and having sent Paris to his merited punishment. – Observe how in the parallel dialogue that follows the foreboding tone creeps in again in the midst of the news of triumph. {520}

Chor. Joy, joy, thou herald of the Achaean host!

Enter Clytaemnestra from the Palace.

Clyt. Now they will believe me, who were saying just now that women believed too soon. What joy for a wife equal to that of a husband's return? and I have kept my trust as stainless as bronze. [Exit into Palace.] The Foreman goes on to enquire as to Menelaus: the Herald would fain not answer, and brings out the Greek dread of mingling bad news with good – at last he is forced to acknowledge Menelaus has disappeared, his ship sundered from the fleet by a terrible storm in which

and the sea 'blossomed with wrecks of ships and dead Achaeans:' the fleet itself barely escaped. [Thus: foreboding indirectly assisted by its appearing that one of the two sons of Atreus has already been overtaken by Nemesis.] {663}

CHORAL INTERLUDE II

[Positions, etc., as before.]

Strophe I: to the Right.

Who could foresee so well and give her the name Helen– a Hell3 to men and ships and towers? She came out of bowers of gorgeous curtains, she sailed with breezes soft as Zephyrs yet strong as Titans, and unseen reached the leafy banks of the Simois; but bloodshed was in her train, and on her track followed hosts of hunters that carried shields. {680}

Antistrophe I: back to Altar.

So there is a wrath that works vengeance after long waiting: to the Ilion that received her she was a dear bride: then there was a shout of 'Paris, Paris,' in the Bridal Song: now his city has celebrated a Wedding of Death, and called on Paris' name in other tones. {695}

Strophe II: Altar to Left.

Antistrophe II: back to Altar.

Strophe III: Altar to Right.

Antistrophe III: back to Altar.

The time-honored saying is that Prosperity grown big will not die childless, its offspring will be a Woe insatiable. I say no, it is not the Prosperity, it is an Impious deed that breeds Impious deeds like the parent stock. {737}

Strophe IV: from Altar to Left.

Recklessness begets Recklessness, this begets full-flushed Lust and

Godforgetting Daring, two black curses to a household. {746}

Antistrophe IV: back to Altar.

Justice will dwell in houses blackened with smoke where life is ruled by law, but averts her eyes from gold-decked mansions conjoined with hands denied: and it is this Justice that is directing the course of things to its appointed goal. {755}

At this point, a grand Procession of the returning Warriors from Troy enters Stage and Orchestra by the Left Side-Door (signifying distance): Agamemnon in his chariot, followed in another chariot by Cassandra as captive, but still in the garb of prophetess: then a train of Soldiers laden with trophies and leading a train of Troïan captive women. The Chorus fall into their Episode position to receive them.

EPISODE III

Chorus (in marching rhythm as the Procession traverses the long Stage.)

Son of Atreus, how are we to hit upon welcome that shall be fit for thee, not missing or overshooting the mark? In both condolence and congratulation men's faces often belie their hearts; thou who knowest thine own sheep, should'st be able to tell kindness from flattery. We confess, when thou wentest forth on thy expedition, thou wast to us like a face limned by an unskilled artist, in the deed thou did'st to inspire false courage. Now, without a thought unfriendly, we say – all is well that ends well, and thou wilt soon hear who has deserved well of thee in thy absence. [Observe their guarded tone.] {782}

Agamemnon [the metre now settling into ordinary 'Blank Verse']. First thanks to the Gods by whose help we have laid Troy low, the ruins of which are still sending up clouds of smoke as sweet incense to the Deities of Vengeance. And your sentiments, both then and now, I approve: prosperity too often misses true sympathy amidst the envy it excites; envy that has the double pang of missing its own and seeing another's good. Experience has taught me the difference between professing and true friends: my unwilling comrade Ulysses alone proved true to me. As to the state we will deliberate in full counsel as to what needs preserving, and where disease calls for surgery. At present I must give thanks at my own hearth for my safe return.

Here the Central Door of the Stage is thrown open, and enter Clytaemnestra to welcome her lord, followed by attendants bearing rich draperies of purple and dazzling colors. {827}

Clyt. Notwithstanding your presence, Senators of Argos, I must pour out my heart to my lord. Ah! a sad thing is a wife waiting at home for her absent husband! hearing of wounds, which if true would have made you a riddled net, of deaths enough for a three-lived Geryon: again and again I have been stopped with the noose already on my neck! This is the reason why you see not your son Orestes: wonder not, he is being brought up by an ally to whom I sent him, lest danger befall us. I cannot weep; my tears have run dry by my weepings and sleepless watchings for the beacon. Now at ease I hail my lord —

The bare ground is not fit for the foot that has trampled on Ilion: strew (to Attendants) tapestry on the floor as the Conqueror steps from his car. The Attendants commence to lay down the draperies: Agamemnon (hastening to stop them) rebukes Clytaemnestra for the excessive tone of her welcome, and bids her not make him offensive to the Gods, by assuming an honor fit for the Gods alone, no man being safe in prosperity till he has died; fame, not foot-mats, and never to lose the path of Wisdom, are his glories. A contest ensues [the false Clytaemnestra anxious to entangle him in an act of Infatuation]; at last he yields, but removes the shoe from his foot, to avert the ill omen of such presumptuous display. He then commends the captive Cassandra to the Queen's kind treatment, and Clyt. renews her lofty expressions of joy: there is a store of purple in the palace, and many such robes would she bestow to welcome his return, the root of the household bringing warmth in winter and coolness in the dog-days. Ah! may Zeus work out for me "all that I wish for." [So Exeunt: Ag. walking barefoot on the rich tapestry. Cassandra alone remains on the Stage in her chariot.] {949}

CHORAL INTERLUDE III

Strophe I: to the Right.

Why is it that forebodings haunt the gate of our hearts, and we lack steadfast trust to fling them away as visions? It is not long since that fatal starting for Troy, {959}

Antistrophe I: back to Altar

and now we have seen with our own eyes the safe return: and yet our mind, self-taught, keeps chanting within itself a dirge of fate. These inner pulses cannot be in vain: heaven send they prove false oracles! {971}

Strophe II: to the Left.

When Wealth o'erflows, Restlessness, as a near neighbor with only a wall between, presses it on with perpetual desire for more, till Prosperity strikes suddenly on an unseen rock – yet even then, by sacrificing a portion of the cargo, the rest may be saved; so by plenteous harvests sent from Zeus, hunger and pestilence may be allayed: {986}

Antistrophe II: back to Altar.

but when blood has once been poured upon the ground, what charm can bring it back? Zeus struck dead the Healer who found how to restore life. I would give my misgiving relief in pouring out words of warning: but I know that fate is certain and can never be escaped; so I am plunged in gloom, with little hope ever to unravel my soul that burns with its hot thoughts. {1001}

EXODUS, OR FINALE

Re-enter Clytaemnestra to fetch Cassandra. Clyt. addresses Cassandra in moderate tone, bidding her adapt herself to her new life and yield to those who wish to soften her captivity. [Cassandra pays no attention and seems gazing into vacancy.] The Chorus endorses Clytaemnestra's advice. At length it occurs to Clytaemnestra that Cassandra cannot speak Greek, and she bids her give some sign. [No sign, but a shudder convulses her frame.] Thinking she is obstinate Clytaemnestra will wait no longer [exit Clyt. into Palace to the sacrifice]. The Chorus renew their advice to Cassandra: She at length leaves the chariot and suddenly bursts into a cry of horror. {1038}

Then follows, marking the crisis of the drama, a burst of lyrical excitement. The dialogue between Chorus and Cassandra falls into lyrical strophes and antistrophes: Cassandra, by her prophetic gift, can see all that is going on and about to be consummated within the Palace. Her wailings reproach her patron and lover Apollo, who has conducted her to a house of blood; she sees the past murders that have stained the house, she sees the preparations for the present deed, the bath, the net, the axe; then her wailings wax yet wilder as she sees that she herself is to be included in the sacrifice. Meantime her excitement gradually passes over to the Chorus: at first they have mistaken her cries for the ordinary lamentations of captives (and borne their part in the dialogue in the ordinary 'blank verse'); then their emotions are roused (and their speech falls into lyrics) as they recognize the old woes of the family history and remember Cassandra's prophetic fame; as she passes to the deed going on at the moment they feel a thrill of horror, but only half understand and take her words for prophecy of distant events, which they connect with their own forebodings; thus in her struggles to get her words believed Cassandra becomes more and more graphic in her notices of the scene her mental eye is seeing, and the excitement crescendoes until: {1148}

As if the crisis were now determined the dialogue settles down into 'blank verse' again. Cassandra ascends from Orchestra to Stage. She will no longer speak veiled prophecy: it shall flow clear as wave against the sunlight. She begins with the Furies that never quit the house since that primal woe that defiled it – as she describes this the Chorus wonder an alien can know the house's history so well —Cassandra lets them know of her amour with Apollo, and how she gained the gift of prophecy and then deceived the God and was doomed to have her prophecies scorned. – Continuing her vision she points to the phantom children, 'their palms filled full with meat of their own flesh,' sitting on the house: in revenge for that deed another crime is this moment about to stain further the polluted dwelling, a brave hero falling at the hands of a coward, and by a plot his monster of a wife has contrived. – The Chorus still perplexed, Cassandra NAMES Agamemnon, the Chorus essaying vainly to stop the ill-fated utterance. – Then Cassandra goes on to describe how she herself must be sacrificed with her new lord, a victim to the jealous murderess; bitterly reproaching Apollo, she strips from her the symbols and garb of her prophetic art, which the god has made so bitter to her, and moves to the 'butcher's block,' foretelling how the Son shall come as his father's avenger and hers. – The Chorus ask, why go to meet your fate instead of escaping? Cassandra knows Fate is inevitable. – Again and again she shrinks back from the door, 'tainted with the scent of death;' then gazing for the last time on the loved rays of the Sun, and invoking him as witness and avenger, she abandons herself to her doom.

[Passes through the Central Door into Palace.]

The Chorus (in lyrical rhythm). It is true good fortune can never be fended from the visitation of evil, which no strong palace can bar out. What will it avail Agamemnon to have taken Troy and come in honor home, if it be really his destiny to pay the penalty of that old deed of bloodguiltiness? {1313}

(Here a loud cry is heard from within the Palace.)

The Chorus recognize the voice of the King, and fear the deed is accomplished. In extreme excitement the Chorus break up, and each member, one after another, suggests what is to be done; at last they compose their ranks to learn what has actually occurred. {1342}

Suddenly, by the machinery of the Roller-stage [Eccyclema], the interior of the Palace is moved to the front of the Stage, and discovers Clytaemnestra in blood-stained robes, standing with attendants by the corpses of Agamemnon and Cassandra, the former lying in a silvered bath covered with a net.

Clytaemnestra, in an elaborate speech, glories in her deed. Deceit was necessary in dealing with foes: now standing where she did the deed, she glories in it: glories in the net in which she entangled and rendered him powerless, in the blows, one, two, three, like a libation, which she struck, glories in the gush of death-blood which has bespattered her. A late triumph: he had come home to drain the goblet of curses his old deed had been long heaping up. After an interruption of astonishment from the Foreman, she repeats: it is the handiwork of my artist hand. After the Chorus have recovered from their astonishment they (in a lyrical burst) denounce her: her confession is the incense on the Victim's head, she shall feel the people's strong hate, and have an exile's doom. —Clyt. (calmly in Blank Verse): they denounced no such exile against Agamemnon when he sacrificed her daughter, the first of her travail pangs. Besides, are they sure they are the stronger? Perchance, though old, they may yet have to learn. —Chorus (in a similar lyrical burst): she is now maddened with the spirit of vengeance, but she will one day find a nemesis, blow for blow. Clyt. solemnly (in Blank Verse) swears by the deed she has done, and the curse for which she did it, she has no fear of Nemesis, as lone as Aegisthus is her shield. Meanwhile, there they lie: the wife-wronger and his mistress. {1377}

Then follows an elaborate lyrical scene: the Chorus giving vent to their excitement in Strophes and Antistrophes irregularly succeeding one another, Clytaemnestra occasionally joining in. O for death, sudden and without lingering, now that our beloved Protector is gone! Ah! Helen! one more deed of woe to your account! —Clyt. No need to wish for death or upbraid Helen. —Cho. (interrupting) O dread Power that dost attack this household, working even through women deeds of dread! —Clyt. Now thou art right: it is the Evil Genius of the House that feeds in their hearts the lust of blood; bringing fresh blood-guilt ere the old is healed. —Cho. Yes, there is a Power wrathful to the House; but it must be through Zeus he works; what amongst mortal men is wrought apart from Zeus?

Clyt. You speak of me as the doer: it was the Avenger of the seed of Atreus who did the deed in the semblance of this dead man's wife. —Cho. None will hold thee guiltless of the deed; yet, perchance, thou mayest have had as helper the avenging Fiend of that ancestral time; he presses on this rush of murders of near kin.

Clyt. This deed brings no dishonor to me: he slew my daughter and his own, wept over with many a tear; now slain in recompense he is gone to Hell with nothing to boast over. —Cho. Whither escape from this House? No longer drops, but fierce pelting storm of blood shakes it to its basement. —Cho. Oh that earth had received me ere I saw this sad sight! Who will perform funeral rites and chant the dirge? Wilt thou who hast slain dare to mourn him? —Clyt. It is no care of thine: we will give him burial; and for mourning – perhaps Iphigenia will greet him kindly by the dark streams below. —Cho. Hard it is to judge; the hand of Zeus is in all this; ever throughout this household we see the fixed law, the spoiler still is spoiled. Who will drive out from this royal house this brood of curses dark? —Clyt. Thou art right; but here let the demon rest content; suffice it for me that my hand has freed the house from the madness that sets each man's hand against each. [Observe: in this last infatuated confidence and throughout Clytaemnestra's exultation in the deed the dramatist is laying the foundation for the second play of the Trilogy.] {1534}

Enter Aegisthus by one of the two Inferior doors in front of the scene [representing the inferior parts of the Palace in which he has been concealed since the return of Agamemnon].

Aegisthus salutes the happy day of vengeance which shows him Agamemnon paying penalty for the deeds of his father: he relates the quarrel between this father Atreus and his own father Thyestes, how when the one brother came as suppliant to the other Atreus spread before him the horrid banquet of his own child's flesh, at the knowledge of which he died. Aegisthus himself had suffered banishment at the hands of Atreus while yet a child, and now has returned full grown to work vengeance on the son of his wronger, to see the long contrived nemesis brought to full conclusion. —Chorus note that he confesses the deed, and he shall not escape the righteous curse a people hurls with stones. —Aeg. Know your place: you are oarsmen, we command the ship; prison and fasting are admirable devices for helping old people to keep their tempers within bounds. Defiances are interchanged: the Chorus taunting him that he had to get a woman to do the deed he dared not do himself, —Aeg. contemptuously says the working out of the fraud was the proper province of a woman, especially as he was a known foe. – The Chorus threaten vengeance and suggest the name ORESTES as avenger: At this Clytaemnestra starts, Aegisthus enraged gives the signal at which {1626}

Bodyguard of Aegisthus pour in through both the Inferior doors on either side of the Central door of the Palace, and fill the stage [thus producing one of the Scenic Tableaux of which Aeschylus was fond]. The Chorus, though of course outnumbered, are nothing daunted, as representing the legitimate authority of the State now Agamemnon is dead, and therefore sure to be backed by the City; they make as if to ascend the stage.

Contest in blows between Chorus and Bodyguard of Aegisthus appears inevitable, but Clytaemnestra throws herself between them, urges that enough ill has already been done, and after further defiances, forces Aegisthus away and play abruptly terminates: the Chorus returning to the Right into the City, and the Bodyguard into the Palace.