The Oresteia: Agamemnon / The Libation Bearers / The Eumenides

by Aeschylus

‘All human actions which are worked out to the end,’ as Francis Fergusson observes, ‘passing through the unforeseeable contingencies of a “world we never made,” follow a similar course: the conscious purpose with which they start is redefined after each unforeseen contingency is suffered; and at the end, in the light of hindsight, we see the truth of what we have been doing.’

The clear pure Heaven yearns to wound the Earth and yearning seizes the Earth to wed the Heaven - rain comes down from the throbbing skies and pierces the Earth, she teems with flocks and Demeter’s full rich life that strengthens men, and from that drenching marriage-rite the woods, the spring bursts forth in bloom. And I, I cause it all.

Aye, but the house and these old stones, give them a voice and what a tale they’d tell. And so would I, gladly . . . I speak to those who know; to those who don’t my mind’s a blank. I never say a word.

There is the sea and who will drain it dry? Precious as silver, inexhaustible, ever-new, it breeds the more we reap it— tides on tides of crimson dye our robes blood-red. Our lives are based on wealth, my king, the gods have seen to that.

And you are Zeus when Zeus tramples the bitter virgin grape for new wine and the welcome chill steals through the halls, at last the master moves among the shadows of his house, fulfilled.

So he goes down, and the life is bursting out of him - great sprays of blood, and the murderous shower wounds me, dyes me black and I, I revel like the Earth when the spring rains come down, the blessed gifts of god, and the new green spear splits the sheath and rips to birth in glory !

Soon, at last, in the dawn that frees the house, we sea-widows wed to the winds will beat our mourning looms of song and sing, ‘Our ship’s come in! Mine, mine is the wealth that swells her holds - those I love are home and free of death.’

And all men’s dreams of grandeur tempting the heavens, all melt down, under earth their pride goes down - lost in our onslaught, black robes swarming, Furies throbbing, dancing out our rage.