Story of Orestes | Page 2

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 Tro?ans 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 low, only beware lest the Victors suffer from the wrath of some God, Artemis who hates the eagle:
Sing a strain of woe, But may the good prevail! {137}
Epode: a different rhythm, and the evolutions without any special direction.
May some Healer, Calchas added, avert her wrath, lest she send delays upon the impatient host and irritate them to some dread deed, some sacrifice of children to haunt the house for ever! So he prophesied in piercing strains.
Sing a strain of woe, But may