Eumenides

Perseus Greek · Perseus Greek · 360 sections

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by snatching away this cowering wretch, a proper expiation for his mother’s blood.
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This is our song over the sacrificial victim—frenzied,
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maddened, destroying the mind, the Furies’ hymn, a spell to bind the soul, not tuned to the lyre, withering the life of mortals.
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For this is the office that relentless
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Fate spun for us to hold securely: when rash murders of kin come upon mortals, we pursue them until they go under the earth; and after death,
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they have no great freedom.
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This is our song over the sacrificial victim—frenzied, maddened, destroying the mind,the Furies’ hymn,
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a spell to bind the soul, not tuned to the lyre, withering the life of mortals.
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This office was ordained for us at birth;
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but the immortal gods must hold back their hands from us, nor does any of them share a feast in common with us; and I have neither lot nor portion of pure white ceremonial robes
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For I have chosen the overthrow of houses,
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whenever violence raised in the home seizes someone near and dear. So speeding after this man, we weaken him, even though he is strong, because of the fresh blood.
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We are eager to take these cares away from another, and to establish for the gods exemption from my concerns, so that it will not come to trial;
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for Zeus has considered us, a blood-dripping, hateful band, unworthy of his council.
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For I have chosen the overthrow of houses,
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whenever violence raised in the home seizes someone near and dear. Speeding after this man, we weaken him, even though he is strong, because of the fresh blood.
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And men’s thoughts, very proud under the sky, waste away and dwindle in dishonor beneath the earth,
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at our attack in black robes and the vindictive dance of our feet.
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For surely with a great leap from above I bring down the heavily falling force of my foot,
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my limbs that trip even swift runners—unendurable ruin.
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But, as he falls, he does not know it, because of his senseless folly; pollution hovers over the man in such darkness, and mournful rumor speaks of
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a dark mist over his house.
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For surely with a great leap from above I bring down the heavily falling force of my foot,
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my limbs that trip even swift runners—unendurable ruin.
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For it remains. We are skilled in plotting, powerful in execution, and we remember evil deeds; we are revered and hard for mortals to appease,
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pursuing our allotted office which is without rights, without honor, separated from the gods in sunless light—our office that makes the path rough for seeing and dim-sighted alike.
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What mortal, then, does not
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stand in awe and dread of this, when he hears from me the law ordained by Fate, given by the gods for perfect fulfilment? My ancient privilege still remains, I do not meet with dishonor,
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although I have my place under the earth and in sunless darkness.
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From afar I heard the call of a summons, from the Scamander, while I was taking possession of the land, which the leaders and chiefs of the Achaeans
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assigned to me, a great portion of the spoil their spears had won, to be wholly mine forever, a choice gift to Theseus’ sons. From there I have come, urging on my tireless foot, without wings rustling the folds of my aegis,
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yoking this chariot to colts in their prime. As I see this strange company of visitors to my land, I am not afraid, but it is a wonder to my eyes. Who in the world are you? I address you all in common—this stranger sitting at my image,
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and you, who are like no race of creatures ever born, neither seen by gods among goddesses nor resembling mortal forms. But it is far from just to speak ill of one’s neighbor who is blameless, and Right stands aloof.
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Daughter of Zeus, you will hear it all in brief. We are the eternal children of Night. We are called Curses in our homes beneath the earth.
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I now know your family and the names by which you are called.
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You will soon learn my office.
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I shall understand, if someone would tell the story clearly.
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We drive murderers from their homes.
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And where is the end of flight for the killer?
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Where joy is absent and unknown.
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And would you drive this man with your shrieks to such flight?
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Yes, for he thought it right to be his mother’s murderer.
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Through other compulsions, or in fear of someone’s wrath?
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Where is there a spur so keen as to compel the murder of a mother?
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Two parties are present; only half the case is heard.
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But he will not receive an oath nor does he want to give one.
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You want to be called just rather than to act justly.
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How so? Teach me. For you are not poor in subtleties.
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I say that oaths must not win victory for injustice.
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Well then, question him, and make a straight judgment.
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Then would you turn over the decision of the charge to me?
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How not?—since we honor you because you are worthy and of worthy parentage.
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What do you want to say to this, stranger, in turn? After you name your country and family and fortunes, then defend yourself against this charge; if indeed, relying on the justice of your case,
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you sit clinging to my image near my hearth, as a sacred suppliant, like Ixion. To all this give me a plain answer.
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Lady Athena, first of all I will take away a great anxiety from your last words.
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I am not a suppliant in need of purification, nor did I sit at your image with pollution on my hands. I will give you strong proof of this. It is the law for one who is defiled by shedding blood to be barred from speech until he is sprinkled with the blood of
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a new-born victim by a man who can purify from murder. Long before at other houses I have been thus purified both by victims and by flowing streams. And so I declare that this concern is out of the way. As to my family, you will soon learn.
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I am an Argive; my father—you rightly inquire about him—was Agamemnon, the commander of the naval forces; along with him, you made Troy, the city of Ilion, to be no city. He did not die nobly, after he came home; but my black-hearted
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mother killed him after she covered him in a crafty snare that still remains to witness his murder in the bath. And when I came back home, having been an exile in the time before, I killed the woman who gave birth to me, I will not deny it, as the penalty in return for the murder of my dearly-loved father.
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Together with me Loxias is responsible for this deed, because he threatened me with pains, a goad for my heart, if I should fail to do this deed to those who were responsible. You judge whether I acted justly or not; whatever happens to me at your hands, I will be content.
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The matter is too great, if any mortal thinks to pass judgment on it; no, it is not lawful even for me to decide on cases of murder that is followed by the quick anger of the Furies, especially since you, by rites fully performed, have come a pure and harmless suppliant to my house;
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and so I respect you, since you do not bring harm to my city. Yet these women have an office that does not permit them to be dismissed lightly; and if they fail to win their cause, the venom from their resentment will fall upon the ground, an intolerable, perpetual plague afterwards in the land.
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So stands the case: either course—to let them stay, to drive them out—brings disaster and perplexity to me. But since this matter has fallen here, I will select judges of homicide bound by oath, and I will establish this tribunal for all time.
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Summon your witnesses and proofs, sworn evidence to support your case; and I will return when I have chosen the best of my citizens, for them to decide this matter truly, after they take an oath that they will pronounce no judgment contrary to justice. Exit
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Here is the overturning of new laws, if the wrongful cause of this matricide is to triumph. Now his deed will accustom all men
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to recklessness; many sorrowful wounds, given in truth by children, wait for parents in the future time.
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For the wrath of us, the Furies who keep watch on mortals,
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will not come stealthily upon such deeds—I will let loose death in every form. And as he anticipates his neighbor’s evils, one man
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will ask of another when hardship is to end or to decrease; and the poor wretch offers the vain consolation of uncertain remedies.
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Do not let anyone who is struck by misfortune make an appeal
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and cry aloud this word, Justice! Thrones of the Furies! Perhaps some father, or mother, in new sorrow,
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may cry out these words piteously, now that the house of Justice is falling.
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There is a time when fear is good and ought to remain seated as a guardian of the heart.
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It is profitable to learn wisdom under strain. But who, if he did not train his heart in fear, either city or mortal,
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would still revere justice in the same way?
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Do not approve of a lawless life or one subject to a tyrant.
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The god grants power to moderation in every form, but he oversees other matters in different ways. I have a timely word of advice: arrogance is truly the child of impiety,
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but from health of soul comes happiness, dear to all, much prayed for.
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And as for the whole matter, I say to you: respect the altar of Justice
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and do not, looking to profit, dishonor it by spurning with godless foot; for punishment will come upon you. The appointed fulfilment remains.
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Therefore, let a man rightly put first in honor the reverence owed to his parents, and have regard for attentions paid to guests welcomed in his house.
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Whoever is just willingly and without compulsion will not lack happiness; he will never be utterly destroyed. But I say that the man who boldly transgresses, amassing a great heap unjustly—by force,
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in time, he will strike his sail, when trouble seizes him as the yardarm is splintered.
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He calls on those who hear nothing and he struggles in the midst of the whirling waters.
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The god laughs at the hot-headed man, seeing him, who boasted that this would never happen, exhausted by distress without remedy and unable to surmount the cresting wave. He wrecks the happiness of his earlier life on the reef of Justice,
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and he perishes unwept, unseen.
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Herald, give the signal and restrain the crowd; and let the piercing Tyrrhenian trumpet, filled with human breath, send forth its shrill blare to the people!
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For while this council-hall is filling, it is good to be silent, and for my ordinances to be learned, by the whole city for everlasting time, and by these appellants, so that their case may be decided well.
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Lord Apollo, be master of what is yours.
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Say what part you have in this matter.
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I have come both to bear witness—for this man was a lawful suppliant and a guest of my sanctuary, and I am his purifier from bloodshed—and to be his advocate myself. I am
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responsible for the murder of his mother. To Athena. Bring in the case, and, in accordance with your wisdom, decide it.
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To the Furies. It is for you to speak—I am only bringing in the case; for the prosecutor at the beginning, speaking first, shall rightly inform us of the matter.
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We are many, but we will speak briefly. To Orestes. Answer our questions, one by one. Say first if you killed your mother.
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I killed her. There is no denial of this.
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Of the three falls that win the wrestling match, this one is already ours.
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You make this boast over a man who is not down yet.
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You must, however, say how you killed her.
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I will say it: with drawn sword in hand, I stabbed her in the throat.
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By whom were you persuaded and on whose advice?

Perseus Greek. CTS URN tlg0085.tlg007.perseus-eng2. Via the Perseus Digital Library / Open Greek and Latin TEI corpora. Licence: CC BY-SA 4.0. Source.