Story of Orestes | Page 2

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:
Lo! the tenth year now is passing {40} Since, of Priam great avengers,
Menelaos, Agamemnon, Double-throned and double-sceptred, Power
from sovran Zeus deriving-- Mighty pair of the Atreidae-- Raised a

fleet of thousand vessels Of the Argives from our country, Potent
helpers in their warfare, Shouting cry of Ares fiercely; E'en as vultures
shriek who hover, Wheeling, whirling o'er their eyrie, {50} In wild
sorrow for their nestlings, With their oars of stout wings rowing,
Having lost the toil that bound them To their callow fledglings' couches.
But on high One--or Apollo, Zeus, or Pan,--the shrill cry hearing, Cry
of birds that are his clients, Sendeth forth on men transgressing Erinnys,
slow but sure avenger; So against young Alexandros Atreus' sons the
Great King sendeth, Zeus, of host and guest protector: {60} He, for
bride with many a lover, Will to Danai give and Troïans Many conflicts,
men's limbs straining, When the knee in dust is crouching, And the
spear-shaft in the onset Of the battle snaps asunder. But as things are
now, so are they, So, as destined, shall the end be. Nor by tears nor yet
libations Shall he soothe the wrath unbending {70} Caused by sacred
rites left fireless.
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:
Sing a strain of woe But may the good prevail! {120}
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