These
bondwomen
are all
I keep in mine own house.
I keep in mine own house.
Euripides - Electra
.
.
.
Is this the joy of battle, or wild woe? [_He goes into the house. _
LEADER.
O Queen o'er Argos throned high,
O Woman, sister of the twain,
God's Horsemen, stars without a stain,
Whose home is in the deathless sky,
Whose glory in the sea's wild pain,
Toiling to succour men that die:
Long years above us hast thou been,
God-like for gold and marvelled power:
Ah, well may mortal eyes this hour
Observe thy state: All hail, O Queen!
_Enter from the right_ CLYTEMNESTRA _on a chariot, accompanied by richly
dressed Handmaidens_.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Down from the wain, ye dames of Troy, and hold
Mine arm as I dismount. . . . [_Answering_ ELECTRA'S _thought_.
The spoils and gold
Of Ilion I have sent out of my hall
To many shrines.
These bondwomen are all
I keep in mine own house. . . . Deemst thou the cost
Too rich to pay me for the child I lost--
Fair though they be?
ELECTRA.
Nay, Mother, here am I
Bond likewise, yea, and homeless, to hold high
Thy royal arm!
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Child, the war slaves are here;
Thou needst not toil.
ELECTRA.
What was it but the spear
Of war, drove me forth too? Mine enemies
Have sacked my father's house, and, even as these,
Captives and fatherless, made me their prey.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
It was thy father cast his child away,
A child he might have loved! . .
Is this the joy of battle, or wild woe? [_He goes into the house. _
LEADER.
O Queen o'er Argos throned high,
O Woman, sister of the twain,
God's Horsemen, stars without a stain,
Whose home is in the deathless sky,
Whose glory in the sea's wild pain,
Toiling to succour men that die:
Long years above us hast thou been,
God-like for gold and marvelled power:
Ah, well may mortal eyes this hour
Observe thy state: All hail, O Queen!
_Enter from the right_ CLYTEMNESTRA _on a chariot, accompanied by richly
dressed Handmaidens_.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Down from the wain, ye dames of Troy, and hold
Mine arm as I dismount. . . . [_Answering_ ELECTRA'S _thought_.
The spoils and gold
Of Ilion I have sent out of my hall
To many shrines.
These bondwomen are all
I keep in mine own house. . . . Deemst thou the cost
Too rich to pay me for the child I lost--
Fair though they be?
ELECTRA.
Nay, Mother, here am I
Bond likewise, yea, and homeless, to hold high
Thy royal arm!
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Child, the war slaves are here;
Thou needst not toil.
ELECTRA.
What was it but the spear
Of war, drove me forth too? Mine enemies
Have sacked my father's house, and, even as these,
Captives and fatherless, made me their prey.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
It was thy father cast his child away,
A child he might have loved! . .
