Prologos
Helen
Will you go for me to my sister’s tomb?
Electra
Would you have me seek my mother’s tomb? Why?
95
Helen
To carry an offering of hair and a libation from me.
Electra
Isn’t it right for you to go to the tomb of one you love?
Helen
No, for I am ashamed to show myself in Argos.
Electra
A late repentance surely for one who left her home so shamefully then.
Helen
You have told the truth, but your telling is not kind to me.
100
Electra
What is this supposed shame before the eyes of Mycenae that possesses you?
Helen
I am afraid of the fathers of those who lie dead at Ilium.
Electra
Good cause for fear; your name is on every tongue in Argos.
Helen
Then free me of my fear and grant me this favor.
Electra
I could not bear to look upon my mother’s grave.
105
Helen
And yet it would be shame indeed for servants to bear these offerings.
Electra
Then why not send your daughter Hermione?
Helen
It is not good for maidens to go into a crowd.
Electra
And yet she would be repaying her dead foster-mother’s care.
Helen
You have told the truth and have convinced me, maiden. Yes, I will send my daughter for you are right. Calling. Hermione, my child, come out, before the palace. Take these libations and these tresses of mine in your hands, and go pour round Clytemnestra’s tomb
110
a mingled cup of honey, milk, and frothing wine; then stand upon the heaped-up grave, and say this: Helen, your sister, sends you these libations as her gift, fearing herself to approach your tomb from terror of the Argive mob and bid her harbor kindly thoughts
115
towards me and you and my husband; towards these two wretched sufferers, too, whom the gods have destroyed. And promise that I will pay in full whatever funeral gifts are due from me to a sister. Now go, my child, and hurry;
120
and soon as you have made the libations at the tomb, think of your return.
Exit Helen.
125
Electra
O human nature, how great an evil you are in men! and what salvation, too, to those who have a goodly heritage there.
Did you see how she cut off her hair only at the ends, to preserve its beauty? She is the same woman as of old.
May the gods hate you! for you have proved the ruin of me and my brother and all Hellas.
130
Alas! here are my friends once more, coming to unite their plaintive dirge with mine; they will soon put an end to my brother’s peaceful sleep, and cause my tears to flow
when I see him in frenzy.
135
Dearest friends, step softly; not a sound; not a whisper! For though this kindness of yours is well-meant, rouse him and I shall rue it.
