Helen by Euripides incomplete
Author: Unknown
Date: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The Internet Classics Archive | Helen by Euripides

Home

Browse and

Comment

Search

Buy Books and

CD-ROMs

Help

Helen

By Euripides

Commentary: A few comments have been posted about Helen. Read them or add your
own.

Reader Recommendations: Recommend a Web site you feel is appropriate to this
work, list recommended Web sites, or visit a random recommended Web site.

Download: A 88k text-only version is available for download.

Helen

By Euripides

Written 412 B.C.E

Translated by E. P. Coleridge

Dramatis Personae

HELEN, wife Of MENELAUS

TEUCER, a Greek warrior, who fought at Troy

CHORUS OF CAPTIVE GREEK WOMEN, attending HELEN

MENELAUS, King of Sparta

PORTRESS of THEOCLYMENUS

FIRST MESSENGER

SECOND MESSENGER

THEONOE, sister of THEOCLYMENUS

THEOCLYMENUS, King of Egypt

SERVANT of THEOCLYMENUS

THE DIOSCURI

Scene

Before the palace of THEOCLYMENUS in Egypt. It is near the mouth of the Nile.

The tomb of Proteus, the father of THEOCLYMENUS is visible. HELEN is
discovered alone before the tomb.

HELEN

Lo! These are the fair virgin streams of Nile, the river that waters Egypt’s
tilth, fed by pure melting snow instead of rain from heaven. Proteus during
his life-time was king of this land, dwelling in the isle of Pharos, and
ruling o’er Egypt; and he took to wife one of the daughters of the sea,

Psamathe, after she left the embraces of Aeacus. Two children she bare in
this his palace, a son Theoclymenus, who hath passed his life in duteous
service to the gods, and likewise a noble daughter, her mother’s pride,
called Eido in her infancy, but when she reached her youthful prime, the age
for wedded joys, renamed Theonoe; for well she knew whate’er the gods
design, both present and to come, for she had won this guerdon from her
grandsire Nereus. Nor is my fatherland unknown to fame, e’en Sparta, or my
sire Tyndareus; for a legend tells how Zeus winged his way to my mother

Leda’s breast, in the semblance of a bird, even a swan, and thus as he fled
from an eagle’s pursuit, achieved by guile his amorous purpose, if this tale
be true. My name is Helen, and I will now recount the sorrows I have
suffered. To a hollow vale on Ida came three goddesses to Paris, for
beauty’s prize contending, Hera and Cypris, and the virgin child of Zeus,
eager to secure his verdict on their loveliness. Now Cypris held out my
beauty,-if aught so wretched deserves that name,-as a bride before the eyes
of Paris, saying he should marry me; and so she won the day; wherefore the
shepherd of Ida left his steading, and came to Sparta, thinking to win me
for his bride. But Hera, indignant at not defeating the goddesses, brought
to naught my marriage with Paris, and gave to Priam’s princely son not

Helen, but a phantom endowed with life, that she made in my image out of the
breath of heaven; and Paris thought that I was his, although I never was,-an
idle fancy! Moreover, the counsels of Zeus added further troubles unto
these; for upon the land of Hellas and the hapless Phrygians he brought a
war, that he might lighten mother-earth of her myriad hosts of men, and to
the bravest of the sons of Hellas bring renown. So I was set up as a prize
for all the chivalry of Hellas, to test the might of Phrygia, yet not I, but
my name alone; for Hermes caught me up in the embracing air, and veiled me
in a cloud; for Zeus was not unmindful of me; and he set me down here in the
house of Proteus, judging him to be the most virtuous of all mankind; that
so I might preserve my marriage with Menelaus free from taint. Here then I
abide, while my hapless lord has gathered an army, and is setting out for
the towers of Ilium to track and recover me. And there by Scamander’s
streams hath many a life breathed out its last, and all for me; and I, that
have endured all this, am accursed, and seem to have embroiled all Hellas in
a mighty war by proving a traitress to my husband. Why, then, do I prolong
my life? Because I heard Hermes declare, that I should yet again make my
home on Sparta’s glorious soil, with my lord,-for Hermes knew I never went
to Ilium,-that so I might never submit to any other’s wooing. Now as long as

Proteus gazed upon yon glorious sun, I was safe from marriage; but when o’er
him the dark grave closed, the dead man’s son was eager for my hand. But I,
from regard to my former husband, am throwing myself down in suppliant wise
before this tomb of Proteus, praying him to guard my husband’s honour, that,
though through Hellas I bear a name dishonoured, at least my body here may
not incur disgrace.

TEUCER enters.

TEUCER

Who is lord and master of this fenced palace? The house is one I may compare
to the halls of Plutus, with its royal bulwarks and towering buildings. Ha!

great gods! what sight is here? I see the counterfeit of that fell murderous
dame, who ruined me and all the Achaeans. May Heaven show its loathing for
thee, so much dost thou resemble Helen! Were I not standing on a foreign
soil, with this well-aimed shaft had worked thy death, thy reward for
resembling the daughter of Zeus.

HELEN

Oh! why, poor man, whoe’er thou art, dost thou turn from me, loathing me for
those troubles Helen caused?

TEUCER

I was wrong; I yielded to my anger more than I ought; my reason was, the
hate all Hellas bears to that daughter of Zeus. Pardon me, lady, for the
words I uttered.

HELEN

Who art thou? whence comest thou to visit this land?

TEUCER

One of those hapless Achaeans am I, lady.

HELEN

No wonder then that thou dost bate Helen. But say, who art thou? Whence
comest? By what name am I to call thee?

TEUCER

My name is Teucer; my sire was Telamon, and Salamis is the land that
nurtured me.

HELEN

Then why art thou visiting these meadows by the Nile?

TEUCER

A wanderer I, an exile from my native land.

HELEN

Thine must be a piteous lot; who from thy country drives thee out?

TEUCER

My father Telamon. Couldst find a nearer and a dearer?

HELEN

But why? This case is surely fraught with woe.

TEUCER

The death of Ajax my brother at Troy was my ruin.

HELEN

How so? surely ‘twas not thy sword that stole his life away?

TEUCER

He threw himself on his own blade and died.

HELEN

Was he mad? for who with sense endowed would bring himself to this?

TEUCER

Dost thou know aught of Achilles. son of Peleus?

HELEN

He came, so I have heard, to woo Helen once.

TEUCER

When he died, he left his arms for his comrades to contest.

HELEN

Well, if he did, what harm herein to Ajax?

TEUCER

When another won these arms, to himself he put an end.

HELEN

Art thou then a sufferer by woes that he inflicted?

TEUCER

Yes, because I did not join him in his death.

HELEN

So thou camest, sir stranger, to Ilium’s famous town?

TEUCER

Aye, and, after helping to sack it, myself did learn what ruin meant.

HELEN

Is Troy already fired and utterly by flames consumed?

TEUCER

Yea, so that not so much as one vestige of her walls is now to be seen.

HELEN

Woe is thee, poor Helen! thou art the cause of Phrygia’s ruin.

TEUCER

And of Achaea’s too. Ah! ‘tis a tale of grievous misery!

HELEN

How long is it since the city was sacked?

TEUCER

Nigh seven fruitful seasons have come and gone.

HELEN

And how much longer did ye abide in Troy?

TEUCER

Many a weary month, till through ten full years the moon had held her
course.

HELEN

And did ye capture that Spartan dame?

TEUCER

Menelaus caught her by the hair, and was for dragging her away.

HELEN

Didst thou thyself behold that unhappy one? or art thou speaking from
hearsay?

TEUCER

As plain as I now see thee, I then saw her.

HELEN

Consider whether ye were but indulging an idle fancy sent by heaven.

TEUCER

Bethink thee of some other topic; no more of her!

HELEN

Are you so sure this fancy was reliable?

TEUCER

With these eyes I saw her face to face, if so be I see thee now.

HELEN

Hath Menelaus reached his home by this time with his wife?

TEUCER

No; he is neither in Argos, nor yet by the streams of Eurotas.

HELEN

Ah me! here is evil news for those to whom thou art telling it.

TEUCER

‘Tis said he disappeared with his wife.

HELEN

Did not all the Argives make the passage together?

TEUCER

Yes: but a tempest scattered them in every direction.

HELEN

In what quarter of the broad ocean?

TEUCER

They were crossing the Aegean in mid channel.

HELEN

And after that, doth no man know of Menelaus’ arrival?

TEUCER

No; none; but through Hellas is he reported to be dead.

HELEN

Then am I lost. Is the daughter of Thestius alive?

TEUCER

Dost speak of Leda? She is dead; aye, dead and gone.

HELEN

Was it Helen’s shame that caused her death?

TEUCER

Aye, ‘tis said she tied the noose about her noble neck.

HELEN

Are the sons of Tyndareus still alive or not?

TEUCER

Dead, and yet alive: ‘tis a double story.

HELEN

Which is the more credible report? Woe is me for my sorrows!

TEUCER

Men say that they are gods in the likeness of stars.

HELEN

That is happy news; but what is the other rumour?

TEUCER

That they by self-inflicted wounds gave up the ghost because of their
sister’s shame. But enough of such talk! I have no wish to multiply my
griefs. The reason of my coming to this royal palace was a wish to see that
famous prophetess Theonoe. Do thou the means afford, that I from her may
obtain an oracle how I shall steer a favourable course to the sea-girt
shores of Cyprus; for there Apollo hath declared my home shall be, giving to
it the name of Salamis, my island home, in honour of that fatherland across
the main.

HELEN

That shall the voyage itself explain, sir stranger; but do thou leave these
shores and fly, ere the son of Proteus, the ruler of this land, catch sight
of thee. Now is he away with his trusty hounds tracking his savage quarry to
the death; for every stranger that he catcheth from the land of Hellas doth
he slay. His reason never ask to know; my lips are sealed; for what could
word of mine avail thee?

TEUCER

Lady, thy words are fair. Heaven grant thee a fair requital for this
kindness! For though in form thou dost resemble Helen, thy soul is not like
hers, nay, very different. Perdition seize her! May she never reach the
streams of Eurotas! But thine be joy for evermore, lady!

TEUCER departs. The CHORUS OF CAPTIVE GREEK WOMEN enter. They sing
responsively with HELEN.

HELEN

Ah me! what piteous dirge shall I strive to utter, now that I am beginning
my strain of bitter lamentation? What Muse shall I approach with tears or
songs of death or woe? Ah me! ye Sirens, Earth’s virgin daughters, winged
maids, come, oh! come to aid my mourning, bringing with you the Libyan flute
or pipe, to waft to Persephone’s ear a tearful plaint, the echo of my
sorrow, with grief for grief, and mournful chant for chant, with songs of
death and doom to match my lamentation, that in return she may receive from
me, besides my tears, dirges for the departed dead beneath her gloomy roof!

CHORUS

Beside the deep-blue water I chanced to be hanging purple robes along the
tendrils green and on the sprouting reeds, to dry them in the sun-god’s
golden blaze, when lo! I heard a sound of woe, a mournful wail, the voice of
one crying aloud in her anguish; yea, such a cry of woe as Naiad nymph might
send ringing o’er the hills, while to her cry the depths of rocky grots
re-echo her screams at the violence of Pan.

HELEN

Woe! woe! ye maids of Hellas, booty of barbarian sailors! one hath come, an

Achaean mariner, bringing fresh tears to me, the news of Ilium’s overthrow,
how that it is left to the mercy of the foeman’s flame, and all for me the
murderess, or for my name with sorrow fraught. While for anguish at my deed
of shame, hath Leda sought her death by hanging; and on the deep, to weary
wandering doomed my lord hath met his end; and Castor and his brother, twin
glory of their native land, are vanished from men’s sight, leaving the
plains that shook to their galloping steeds, and the course beside
reed-fringed Eurotas, where those youthful athletes strove.

CHORUS

Ah, misery! Alas! for thy grievous destiny! Woe for thy sad lot, lady! Ah!

‘twas a day of sorrow meted out for thee when Zeus came glancing through the
sky on snowy pinions like a swan and won thy mother’s heart. What evil is
not thine? Is there a grief in life that thou hast not endured? Thy mother
is dead; the two dear sons of Zeus have perished miserably, and thou art
severed from thy country’s sight, while through the towns of men a rumour
runs, consigning thee, my honoured mistress, to a barbarian’s bed; and ‘mid
the ocean waves thy lord hath lost his life, and never, never more shalt
thou fill with joy thy father’s halls or Athena’s temple of the “Brazen

House.”

HELEN

Ah! who was that Phrygian, who was he, that felled that pine with sorrow
fraught for Ilium, and for those that came from Hellas? Hence it was that

Priam’s son his cursed barque did build, and sped by barbarian oars sailed
unto my home, in quest of beauty, woman’s curse, to win me for his bride;
and with him sailed the treacherous queen of Love, on slaughter bent, with
death alike for Priam’s sons, and Danai too. Ah me! for my hard lot! Next,

Hera, stately bride of Zeus, seated on her golden throne, sent the son of

Maia, swift of foot, who caught me up as I was gathering fresh rose-buds in
the folds of my robe, that I might go to the “Brazen House,” and bore me
through the air to this loveless land, making me an object of unhappy strife

‘twixt Hellas and the race of Priam. And my name is but a sound without
reality beside the streams of Simois.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

Well I know thou hast a bitter lot to bear; still ‘tis best to bear as
lightly as we may the ills that life is heir to.

HELEN

Good friends, to what a fate am I united? Did not my mother bear me to be a
monster to the world? For no woman, Hellene or barbarian, gives birth to
babes in eggs inclosed, as they say Leda bare me to Zeus. My life and all I
do is one miracle, partly owing to Hera, and partly is my beauty to blame.

Would God I could rub my beauty out like a picture, and assume hereafter in
its stead a form less comely, and oh! that Hellas had forgotten the evil
fate that now I bear, and were now remembering my career of honour as surely
as they do my deeds of shame. Now, if a man doth turn his eyes to a single
phase of fortune, and meets ill-usage at heaven’s hands, ‘tis hard no doubt;
but still it can be borne; but I in countless troubles am involved. First,
although I never sinned, my good name is gone. And this is a grief beyond
the reality, if a man incurs blame for sins that are not his. Next, have the
gods removed me from my native land, to dwell with men of barbarous ways,
and reft of every friend, I arn become a slave though free by birth; for
amongst barbarians all are slaves but one. And the last anchor that held my
fortunes, the hope that my husband would return one day, and rid me of my
woes, is now no more, lost since the day he died. My mother too is dead, and

I am called her murderess, unjustly it is true, but still that injustice is
mine to bear; and she that was the glory of my house, my darling child, is
growing old and grey, unwedded still; and those twin brethren, called the
sons of Zeus, are now no more. But ‘tis fortune, not my own doing, that hath
crushed me with sorrow and slain me. And this is the last evil of all; if
ever I come to my native land. they will shut me up in prison, thinking me
that Helen of Ilium, in quest of whom Menelaus came thither. Were my husband
still alive, we might have recognized each other, by having recourse to
tokens which ourselves alone would know. But now this may not be, nor is
there any chance of his escape. Why then do I prolong my life? What fortune
have I still in store? Shall I choose marriage as an alternative of evils,
and dwell with a barbarian lord, seated at his sumptuous board? No! when a
husband she loathes is mated with a woman, even life is loathly to her. Best
for her to die; but how shall I die a noble death? The dangling noose is an
uncomely end; even slaves consider it disgrace; to stab oneself hath
something fair and. noble in it; ‘tis a small thing that moment of ridding
the flesh of life. Yes, it must be; I am plunged so deep in misery; for that
beauty, which to other women is a boon, to me hath been a very bane.

LEADER

Helen, never believe that the stranger, whoe’er he was that came, has spoken
naught but truth.

HELEN

Yet he said so clearly that my lord was dead.

LEADER

There is much that falsehood seems to make quite clear.

HELEN

The word of truth hath a very different sound to falsehood.

LEADER

Thou art inclined to misfortune, rather than to luck.

HELEN

Fear girds me with terrors as with a garment, and takes me in her train.

LEADER

What friends hast thou within the palace?

HELEN

All are my friends here save him who seeks to wed-me.

LEADER

Thy action then is clear; leave thy seat at the tomb.

HELEN

To what words or advice art thou leading up?

LEADER

Go in and question the daughter of the ocean Nereid, who knoweth all things,
even Theonoe, whether thy husband is still alive, or whether he hath left
the light of day; and when thou knowest for certain, be glad or sorrowful,
as fits thy fortune. But before thou hast right knowledge, what shall sorrow
avail thee? Nay, hearken to me; leave this tomb and seek the maiden’s
company, that she may tell thee the truth, for from her shalt thou learn
all. If thou abide here in this seat, what prospect hast thou? And I will
myself go in with thee, and with thee inquire of the maiden’s oracles; for

‘tis a woman’s bounden duty to share a sister’s trouble.

The following lines are chanted responsively by HELEN and the CHORUS.

HELEN

Kind friends, I welcome your advice. Come in, come in, that ye may learn the
result of my struggle within the palace.

CHORUS

Thy invitation comes to very willing ears.

HELEN

Woe for this heavy day! Ah me! what mournful tidings shall hear?

CHORUS

Dear mistress mine, be not a prophetess of sorrow, forestalling lamentation.

HELEN

What is the fate of my poor husband? Doth he still behold the light turning
towards the sun-god’s chariot and the stars in their courses? Or among the
dead, beneath the earth, is he to death consigned?

CHORUS

Of the future take a brighter view, whatever shall betide.

HELEN

On thee I call, and thee adjure, Eurotas green with river-reeds, to tell me
if this rumour of my husband’s death be true.

CHORUS

What boots this meaningless appeal?

HELEN

About my neck will I fasten the deadly noose from above, or drive the
murderous knife with self-aimed thrust deep into my throat to sever it,
striving to cut my flesh, a sacrifice to those goddesses three and to that
son of Priam, who in days gone by would wake the music of his pipe around
his steading.

CHORUS

Oh may sorrow be averted otherwhither, and thou be blest!

HELEN

Woe is thee, unhappy Troy! Thou through deeds not done by the art ruined,
and hast suffered direst woe; for the gift that Cypris gave to me, hath
caused a sea of blood to flow, and many an eye to weep, with grief on grief
and tear on tear. All this hath Ilium suffered and mothers have lost their
children; and virgin sisters of the slain have cut off their tresses by the
swollen tide of Phrygian Scamander. And the land of Hellas hath lifted her
voice of woe and broken forth in wailing, smiting on her head, and making
tender cheeks to stream with gore beneath the rending nail. Ah blest maid

Callisto, who long ago in Arcady didst find favour with Zeus, in the
semblance of beast four-footed, how much happier was thy lot than my
mother’s, for thou hast changed the burden of thy grief and now with savage
eye art weeping o’er thy shaggy monster-shape; aye, and hers was a happier
lot, whom on a day Artemis drove from her choir, changed to a hind with
horns of gold, the fair Titanian maid, daughter of Merops, because of her
beauty; but my fair form hath proved the curse of Dardan Troy and doomed

Achaea’s sons.

HELEN and the CHORUS go into the palace. After the doors have closed upon
them, MENELAUS enters. He is alone and clad in rags.

MENELAUS

Ah! Pelops, easy victor long ago o’er thy rival Oenomaus in the chariot-race
on Pisa’s plain, would thou hadst ended thy career amongst the gods that day
thou wert beguiled into making a banquet for them, or ever thou hadst
begotten my father Atreus, to whom were born by Aerope his wife, Agamemnon
and myself Menelaus, an illustrious pair; and herein I make no idle boast,
for ‘twas a mighty host, I trow, that I their leader carried o’er the sea to

Troy, using no violence to make them follow me, but leading all the chivalry
of Hellas by voluntary consent. And some of these must we number ‘mid the
slain, and some to their joy have ‘scaped the sea, bearing to their homes
again names long reckoned dead. But I, poor wretch, go wandering o’er grey

Ocean’s swell a weary space, long as that which saw me sick the towers of

Ilium; and for all my longing to reach my country I am not counted worthy of
this boon by heaven, but to Libya’s desert cheerless roadsteads have I
sailed, to each and all of them; and whensoe’er I draw me near my native
land, the storm-wind drives me back again, and never yet have favouring
breezes filled my sails, to let me reach my fatherland. And now a wretched,
shipwrecked mariner, my friends all lost, am I cast up upon this shore; and
my ship is shattered in a thousand pieces against the rocks; and its keel
was wrested from its cunning fastenings; thereon did I with difficulty
escape, most unexpectedly, and Helen also, for her had I rescued from Troy
and had with me. But the name of this country and its people I know not; for

I blushed to mingle with the crowd to question them, anxious for very shame
to hide my misfortunes which reduce me to these sorry rags. For when a man
of high degree meets with adversity, he feels the strangeness of his fallen
state more keenly than a sufferer of long standing. Dire want is wasting me;
for I have neither food, nor raiment to gird myself withal; behold the facts
before you to judge from-I am clad in tatters cast up from the ship; while
all the robes I once did wear, glorious attire and ornaments, bath the sea
swallowed; and in a cavern’s deep recesses have I hidden my wife, the cause
of all my trouble, and have come hither, after straitly charging the
survivors of my friends to watch her. Alone am I come, seeking for those
there left some help, if haply I may find it after careful search. So when I
saw this palace girt with towering walls and stately gates of some
prosperous lord, I drew nigh; for I have hope to obtain somewhat for my
sailors from this wealthy house, whereas from houses which have no store,
the inmates for all their goodwill could furnish naught. Ho! there, who
keeps the gate and will come forth to bear my tale of woe into the house?

A PORTRESS comes out of the palace in answer to his call.

PORTRESS

Who stands before the door? Begone from the housel stand not at the
court-yard gate, annoying my masters! otherwise shalt thou die, for thou art
a Hellene born. and with them have we no dealings.

MENELAUS

Mother, herein sayest thou rightly on all points. ‘Tis well; I will obey;
but moderate thy words.

PORTRESS

Away! stranger, my orders are to admit no Hellene to this palace.

MENELAUS

Ha! do not seek to push me hence, or thrust me away by violence.

PORTRESS

Thou dost not heed my words, and therefore hast thyself to blame.

MENELAUS

Carry my message to thy master in the palace.

PORTRESS

Some one would rue it, methinks, were I to take thy message.

MENELAUS

I come as a shipwrecked man and a stranger, whom heaven protects.

PORTRESS

Well, get thee to some other house than this.

MENELAUS

Nay, but I will pass into the house; so listen to me.

PORTRESS

Let me tell thee thou art unwelcome, and soon wilt be forcibly ejected.

MENELAUS

Ah me! where are now those famous troops of mine?

PORTRESS

Elsewhere maybe thou wert a mighty man; thou art not here.

MENELAUS

O fortune! I have not deserved such insult.

PORTRESS

Why are thy eyes with tear-drops wet? Why so sad?

MENELAUS

‘Tis the contrast with my fortunes erst so blest.

PORTRESS

Hence! then, and give thy friends those tears.

MENELAUS

What land is this? whose is the palace?

PORTRESS

Proteus lives here. It is the land of Egypt.

MENELAUS

Egypt? Woe is me! to think that hither I have sailed!

PORTRESS

Pray, what fault hast thou to find with the race of Nile?

MENELAUS

‘Twas no fault I found; my own disasters I lament.

PORTRESS

There be plenty in evil case; thou art not the only one.

MENELAUS

Is the king, of whom thou speakest, here within?

PORTRESS

There is his tomb; his son rules in his stead.

MENELAUS

And where may he be? abroad, or in the house?

PORTRESS

He is not within. To Hellas is he a bitter foe.

MENELAUS

His reason, pray, for this enmity? the results whereof I have experienced.

PORTRESS

Beneath this roof dwells the daughter of Zeus, Helen.

MENELAUS

What mean’st thou? what is it thou hast said? Repeat, I pray, thy words.

PORTRESS

The daughter of Tyndareus is here, who erst in Sparta dwelt.

MENELAUS

Whence came she? What means this business?

PORTRESS

She came from Lacedaemon hither.

MENELAUS

When? Surely I have never been robbed of my wife from the cave!

PORTRESS

Before the Achaeans went to Troy, sir stranger. But get thee hence; for
somewhat hath chanced within, whereat the whole palace is in an uproar. Thou
comest most unseasonably; and if my master catch thee, death will be thy
stranger’s gift. This say I, because to Hellas I am well disposed, albeit I
gave thee harsh answers for fear of my master.

The PORTRESS goes back into the palace.

MENELAUS

What can I think or say? For after my previous troubles, this is a fresh
piece of ill-luck I hear, if, indeed, after recovering my wife from Troy and
bringing her hither, and putting her for safety in the cave, I am then to
find another woman living here with the same name as my wife. She called her
the begotten child of Zeus. Can there be a man that hath the name of Zeus by
the banks of Nile? The Zeus of heaven is only one, at any rate. Where is
there a Sparta in the world save where Eurotas glides between his reedy
banks? The name of Tyndareus is the name of one alone. Is there any land of
the same name as Lacedaemon or Troy? I know not what to say; for naturally
there are many in the wide world that have the same names, cities and women
too; there is nothing, then, to marvel at. Nor yet again will I fly from the
alarm a servant raises; for there is none so cruel of heart as to refuse me
food when once he hears my name. All have heard of Ilium’s burning, and I,
that set it ablaze, am famous now throughout the world, I, Menelaus. I
therefore wait the master of this house. There are two issues I must watch;
if he prove somewhat stern of heart, I will to my wreck and there conceal
myself; but if he show any sign of pity, I will ask for help in this my
present strait. This is the crowning woe in all my misery, to beg the means
of life from other princes, prince though I be myself; still needs must I.

Yea, this is no saying of mine, but a word of wisdom, “Naught in might
exceedeth dread necessity.”

HELEN and the CHORUS enter from the palace. They do not notice MENELAUS.

CHORUS singing

I have heard the voice of the maiden inspired. Clear is the answer she hath
vouchsafed within yon palace, declaring that Menelaus is not yet dead and
buried, passed to the land of shades, where darkness takes the place of
light; but on the stormy main is wearing out his life, nor yet hath reached
the haven of his country, a wanderer dragging out a piteous existence, reft
of every friend, setting foot in every corner of the world, as he voyageth
home from Troy.

HELEN

Lo! once again I seek the shelter of this tomb, with Theonoe’s sweet tidings
in my ears; she that knoweth all things of a truth; for she saith my lord is
yet alive and in the light of day, albeit he is roaming to and fro after
many a weary voyage, and hither shall he come whenso he reach the limit of
his toils, no novice in the wanderer’s life. But one thing did she leave
unsaid. Is he to escape when he hath come? And I refrained from asking that
question clearly, so glad was I when she told me he was safe. For she said
that he was somewhere nigh this shore, cast up by shipwreck with a handful
of friends. Ah! when shall I see thee come? How welcome will thy advent be!

She catches sight of MENELAUS.

Ha! who is this? Am I being snared by some trick of Proteus’ impious son?

Oh! let me, like a courser at its speed, or a votary of Bacchus, approach
the tomb! for there is something wild about this fellow’s looks, who is
eager to o’ertake me.

MENELAUS

Ho there! thou that with fearful effort seekest to reach the basement of the
tomb and the pillars of burnt sacrifice, stay thee. Wherefore art flying?

Ah! with what speechless amaze the sight of thee affects me!

HELEN

O friends! I am being ill-treated. This man is keeping me from the tomb, and
is eager to take and give me to his master, whose wooing I was seeking to
avoid.

MENELAUS

No robber I, or minister of evil.

HELEN

At any rate the garb wherein thou art clad is unseemly.

MENELAUS

Stay thy hasty flight; put fear aside.

HELEN

I do so, now that I have reached this spot.

MENELAUS

Who art thou? whom do I behold in thee, lady?

HELEN

Nay, who art thou? The self-same reason prompts us both.

MENELAUS
never saw a closer resemblance.

HELEN

Great God! Yea, for to recognize our friends is of God.

MENELAUS

Art thou from Hellas, or a native of this land?

HELEN

From Hellas; but I would learn thy story too.

MENELAUS

Lady, in thee I see a wondrous likeness to Helen.

HELEN

And I in thee to Menelaus; I know not what to say.

MENELAUS

Well, thou hast recognized aright a man of many sorrows.

HELEN

Hail! to thy wife’s arms restored at last!

MENELAUS

Wife indeed! Lay not a finger on my robe.

HELEN

The wife that Tyndareus, my father, gave thee.

MENELAUS

O Hecate, giver of light, send thy visions favourably!

HELEN

In me thou beholdest no spectre of the night, attendant on the queen of
phantoms.

MENELAUS

Nor yet am I in my single person the husband of two wives.

HELEN

What other woman calls thee lord?

MENELAUS

The inmate of yonder cave, whom I from Troy convey.

HELEN

Thou hast none other wife but me.

MENELAUS

Can it be my mind is wandering, my sight failing?

HELEN

Dost not believe thou seest in me thy wife?

MENELAUS

Thy form resembles her, but the real truth robs me of this belief.

HELEN

Observe me well; what need hast thou of clearer proof?

MENELAUS

Thou art like her; that will I never deny.

HELEN

Who then shall teach thee, unless it be thine own eyes?

MENELAUS

Herein is my dilemma; I have another wife.

HELEN

To Troy I never went; that was a phantom.

MENELAUS

Pray, who fashions living bodies?

HELEN

The air, whence thou hast a wife of heaven’s workmanship.

MENELAUS

What god’s handiwork? Strange is the tale thou tellest.

HELEN

Hera made it as a substitute, to keep me from Paris.

MENELAUS

How then couldst thou have been here, and in Troy, at the same time?

HELEN

The name may be in many a place at once, though not the body.

MENELAUS

Unhand me! the sorrows I brought with me suffice.

HELEN

What! wilt leave me, and take that phantom bride away?

MENELAUS

For thy likeness unto Helen, fare thee well.

HELEN

Ruined! in thee I found my lord only to lose thee.

MENELAUS

The greatness of my troubles at Troy convinces me; thou dost not.

HELEN

Ah, woe is me! who was ever more unfortunate than I? Those whom I love best
are leaving me, nor shall I ever reach Hellas, my own dear native land.

The FIRST MESSENGER enters in haste.

MESSENGER

At last I find thee, Menelaus, after an anxious search, not till I have
evandered through the length and breadth of this foreign strand; I am sent
by thy comrades, whom thou didst leave behind.

MENELAUS

What news? surely you are not being spoiled by the barbarians?

MESSENGER

A miracle hath happened; my words are too weak for the reality.

MENELAUS

Speak; for judging by this haste, thou hast stirring news.

MESSENGER

My message is: thy countless toils have all been toiled in vain.

MENELAUS

That is an old tale of woe to mourn! come, thy news?

MESSENGER

Thy wife hath disappeared, soaring away into the embracing air; in heaven
she now is hidden, and as she left the hollowed cave where we were guarding
her, she hailed us thus, “Ye hapless Phrygians, and all Achaea’s race! for
me upon Scamander’s strand by Hera’s arts ye died from day to day, in the
false belief that Helen was in the hands of Paris. But I, since I have
stayed my appointed time, and kept the laws of fate, will now depart unto
the sky that gave me birth; but the unhappy daughter of Tyndareus, through
no fault of hers, hath borne an evil name without reason.”

Catching Sight of HELEN

Daughter of Leda, hail to thee, so thou art here after all! I was just
announcing thy departure to the hidden starry realms, little knowing that
thou couldst fly at will. I will not a second time let thee flout us thus,
for thou didst cause tiki lord and his comrades trouble all for naught in

Ilium.

MENELAUS

This is even what she said; her words are proved true; O longed-for day, how
hath it restored thee to my arms!

HELEN

O Menelaus, dearest husband, the time of sorrow has been long, but joy is
now ours at last. Ah, friends, what joy for me to hold my husband in a fond
embrace after many a weary cycle of yon blazing lamp of day!

MENELAUS

What joy for me to hold my wife! but with all that I would ask about these
years, I now know not where I may first begin.

HELEN

O rapture! the very hair upon my head starts up for joy! my tears run down!

Around thy neck I fling my arms, dear husband, to hug my joy to me.

MENELAUS

O happy, happy sight! I have no fault to find; my wife, he daughter of Zeus
and Leda, is mine again, she whom her brothers on their snow-white steeds,
whilst torches blazed, made my happy bride, but gods removed her from my
home. Now is the deity guiding us to a new destiny, happier than of yore.

HELEN

Evil into good transformed hath brought us twain together at last, dear
husband; but late though it be, God grant me joy of my good luck!

MENELAUS

God grant thee joy! I join thee in the self-same prayer; for of us twain one
cannot suffer without the other.

HELEN

No more, my friends, I mourn the past; no longer now I grieve. My own dear
husband is restored to me, whose coming from Troy I have waited many a long
year.

MENELAUS

I to thee, and thou to me. And after these long, long years I have at last
discovered the fraud of the goddess. But these tears, in gladness shed, are
tears of thankfulness rather than of sorrow.

HELEN

What can I say? What mortal heart could e’er have had such hope? To my bosom

I press thee, little as I ever thought to.

MENELAUS

And I to mine press thee, who all men thought hadst gone to Ida’s town and
the hapless towers of Ilium.

HELEN

Ah me! ah me! that is a bitter subject to begin on.

MENELAUS

Tell me, I adjure thee, how wert thou from my home conveyed?

HELEN

Alas! alas! ‘tis a bitter tale thou askest to hear.

MENELAUS

Speak, for I must hear it; all that comes is Heaven’s gift.

HELEN

I loathe the story I am now to tell.

MENELAUS

Tell it for all that. ‘Tis sweet to hear of trouble past.

HELEN

I ne’er set forth to be the young barbarian’s bride, with oars and wings of
lawless love to speed me on my way.

MENELAUS

What deity or fate tore thee from thy country, then?

HELEN

Ah, my lord! ‘twas Hermes, the son of Zeus, that brought and placed me by
the banks of Nile.

MENELAUS

A miracle! Who sent thee thither? O monstrous story!

HELEN

I wept, and still my eyes are wet with tears. ‘Twas the wife of Zeus that
ruined me.

MENELAUS

Hera? wherefore should she afflict us twain?

HELEN

Woe is me for my awful fate! Woe for those founts and baths where the
goddesses made brighter still that beauty, which evoked the fatal verdict!

MENELAUS

Why did Hera visit thee with evil regarding this verdict?

HELEN

To wrest the promise of Cypris-

MENELAUS

How now? Say on.

HELEN

From Paris, to whom that goddess pledged me.

MENELAUS

Woe for thee!

HELEN

And so she brought me hither to Egypt to my sorrow.

MENELAUS

Then she gave him a phantom in thy stead, as thou tellest me?

HELEN

And then began those woes of thine, ah, mother! woe is me!

MENELAUS

What meanest thou?

HELEN

My mother is no more; my shameful marriage made her fix the noose about her
neck.

MENELAUS

Ah me! is our daughter Hermione yet alive?

HELEN

Still unwed, childless still, she mourns my fatal marriage.

MENELAUS

O Paris, who didst utterly o’erthrow my home, here was thy ruin too and
theirs, those countless mail-clad Danai.

HELEN

From my country, city, and from thee heaven cast me forth unhappy and
accursed, because I left,-and yet not I,-home and husband for union of foul
shame.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

If haply ye find happiness in the future, it will suffice when to the past
ye look.

MESSENGER

Menelaus, grant me too a portion of that joy which, though mine own eyes
see, I scarcely comprehend.

MENELAUS

Come then, old friend, and share with us our talk.

MESSENGER

Was it not then in her power to decide all the trouble in Troy?

MENELAUS

It was not; I was tricked by the gods into taking to my arms a misty
phantom-form, to my sorrow.

MESSENGER

How so? was it then for this we vainly toiled?

MENELAUS

‘Twas Hera’s handiwork, and the jealousy of three goddesses.

MESSENGER

Is this real woman, then, thy wife?

MENELAUS

This is she; trust my word for that.

MESSENGER

Daughter, how changeful and inscrutable is the nature of God! With some good
end doth he vary men’s fortune-now up, now down; one suffers; another who
ne’er knew suffering, is in his turn to awful ruin brought, having no
assurance in his lot from day to day. Thou and thy husband have had your
share of trouble-thou in what the world has said, he in battle’s heat. For
all the striving that he strove, he got him naught; while now, without an
effort made, every blessing fortune boasts is his. And thou, in spite of
all, hast brought no shame upon thy aged sire, or those twin sons of Zeus,
nor art thou guilty of those rumoured crimes. Now again do I recall thy
wedding rites, remembering the blazing torch I bore beside thee in a
four-horsed chariot at full gallop; while thou with this thy lord, a
new-made bride, wert driving forth from thy happy home. A sorry servant he,
whoso regardeth not his master’s interest, sympathizing with his sorrows and
his joys. Slave though I was born, yet may I be numbered amongst honest
servants; for in heart, though not in name, I am free. For this is better
far than in my single person to suffer these two evils, to feel my heart
corrupt, and as the slave of others to be at my neighbour’s beck and call.

MENELAUS

Come, old friend, oft hast thou stood side by side with me and taken thy
full share of toil; so now be partner in my happiness. Go, tell my comrades,
whom I left behind, the state of matters here, as thou hast found them, and
the issue of my fortunes; and bid them wait upon the beach and abide the
result of the struggle, which I trow awaits me; and if mayhap we find a way
to take this lady from the land by stealth, tell them to keep good watch
that we may share the luck and escape, if possible, from the barbarian’s
clutch.

MESSENGER

It shall be done, O king. Now I see how worthless are the seers’ tricks, how
full of falsehood; nor is there after all aught trustworthy in the blaze of
sacrifice or in the cry of feathered fowls; ‘tis folly, the very notion that
birds can help mankind. Calchas never by word or sign showed the host the
truth, when he saw his friends dying on behalf of a phantom, nor yet did

Helenus; but the city was stormed in vain. Perhaps thou wilt say, ‘twas not
heaven’s will that they should do so. Then why do we employ these prophets?

Better were it to sacrifice to the gods, and crave a blessing, leaving
prophecy alone; for this was but devised as a bait to catch livelihood, and
no man grows rich by divination if he is idle. No! sound judgment and
discernment are the best of seers.

The MESSENGER departs.

LEADER

My views about seers agree exactly with this old man’s: whoso hath the gods
upon his side will have the best seer in his house.

HELEN

Good! so far all is well. But how camest thou, poor husband, safe from Troy?

though ‘tis no gain to know, yet friends feel a longing to learn all that
their friends have suffered.

MENELAUS

That one short sentence of thine contains a host of questions. Why should I
tell thee of our losses in the Aegean, or of the beacon Nauplius lighted on

Euboea? or of my visits to Crete and the cities of Libya, or of the peaks of

Perseus? For I should never satisfy thee with the tale, and by telling thee
should add to my own pain, though I suffered enough at the time; and so
would my grief be doubled.

HELEN

Thy answer shows more wisdom than my question. Omit the rest, and tell me
only this; how long wert thou a weary wanderer o’er the wide sea’s face?

MENELAUS

Seven long years did I see come and go, besides those ten in Troy.

HELEN

Alas, poor sufferer! ‘twas a weary while. And thou hast thence escaped only
to bleed here.

MENELAUS

How so? what wilt thou tell? Ah wife, thou hast ruined me.

HELEN

Escape and fly with all thy speed from this land. Thou wilt be slain by him
whose house this is.

MENELAUS

What have I done to merit such a fate?

HELEN

Thou hast arrived unexpectedly to thwart my marriage.

MENELAUS

What! is some man bent on wedding my wife?

HELEN

Aye, and on heaping those insults on me, which I have hitherto endured.

MENELAUS

Is he some private prince, or a ruler of this land?

HELEN

The son of Proteus, king of the country.

MENELAUS

This was that dark saying I heard the servant tell.

HELEN

At which of the barbarian’s gates wert thou standing?

MENELAUS

Here, whence like a beggar I was like to be driven.

HELEN

Surely thou wert not begging food? Ah, woe is me!

MENELAUS

That was what I was doing, though I had not the name of beggar.

HELEN

Of course thou knowest, then, all about my marriage.

MENELAUS

I do. But whether thou hast escaped thy lover, I know not.

HELEN

Be well assured I have kept my body chaste.

MENELAUS

How wilt thou convince me of this? If true, thy words are sweet.

HELEN

Dost see the wretched station I have kept at this tomb?

MENELAUS

I see, alas! a bed of straw; but what hast thou to do with it?

HELEN

There I crave escape from this marriage as a suppliant.

MENELAUS

For want of an altar, or because it is the barbarians’ way?

HELEN

This was as good a protection to me as the gods’ temples.

MENELAUS

May I not then even bear thee homeward on my ship?

HELEN

The sword far sooner than thy wife’s embrace is waiting thee.

MENELAUS

So should I be of all men the most miserable.

HELEN

Put shame aside, and fly from this land.

MENELAUS

Leaving thee behind? ‘twas for thy sake I sacked Troy.

HELEN

Better so, than that our union should cause thy death.

MENELAUS

Oh! these are coward words, unworthy of those days at Troy!

HELEN

Thou canst not slay the prince, thy possible intent.

MENELAUS

Hath he, then, a body which steel cannot wound?

HELEN

Thou shalt hear. But to attempt impossibilities is no mark of wisdom.

MENELAUS

Am I to let them bind my hands, and say nothing?

HELEN

Thou art in a dilemma; some scheme must be devised.

MENELAUS

I had liefer die in action than sitting still.

HELEN

There is one hope, and only one, of our safety.

MENELAUS

Will gold, or daring deeds, or winning words procure it?

HELEN

We are safe if the prince learn not of thy coming.

MENELAUS
ary one tell him it is I? He certainly will not know who I am.

HELEN

He hath within his palace an ally equal to the gods.

MENELAUS

Some voice divine within the secret chambers of his house?

HELEN

No; his sister; Theonoe men call her.

MENELAUS

Her name hath a prophetic sound; tell me what she doth.

HELEN

She knoweth everything, and she will tell her brother thou art come.

MENELAUS

Then must we die; for I cannot escape her ken.

HELEN

Perchance we might by suppliant prayers win her over.

MENELAUS

To what end? To what vain hope art thou leading me?

HELEN

That she should not tell her brother thou art here.

MENELAUS

Suppose we persuade her, can we get away?

HELEN

Easily, if she connive thereat; without her knowledge, no,

MENELAUS

Be that thy task; women deal best with women.

HELEN

I will not fail, be sure, to clasp her knees.

MENELAUS

Come, then; only, suppose she reject our proposals?

HELEN

Thou wilt be slain, and I, alas! wedded by force.

MENELAUS

Thou wilt betray me; that “force” of thine is but an excuse.

HELEN

Nay, by thy life I swear a sacred oath.

MENELAUS

What meanest thou? dost swear to die and never to another husband yield?

HELEN

Yes, by the self-same sword; I will fall by thy side.

MENELAUS

On these conditions touch my right hand.

HELEN

I do so, swearing I will quit the light of day if thou art slain.

MENELAUS

I, too, will end my life if I lose thee.

HELEN

How shall we die so as to gain fame?

MENELAUS

I will slay thee and then myself upon the summit of the tomb. But first will

I in doughty fight contest another’s claim to thee; and let who will draw
nigh! for I will not sully the lustre of my Trojan fame, nor will I, on my
return to Hellas, incur a storm of taunts, as one who robbed Thetis of

Achilles; saw Ajax, son of Telamon, fall a weltering corpse; and the sort of

Neleus of his child bereft; shall I then flinch myself from death for my own
wife? No, no! For if the gods are wise, o’er a brave man by his foes laid
low they lightly sprinkle the earth that is his tomb, while cowards ‘they
cast forth on barren rocky soil.

LEADER

Grant, heaven, that the race of Tantalus may at last be blest, and pass from
sorrow unto joy!

HELEN

Ah, woe is me! Yea, all my lot is woe; O Menelaus, we are utterly undone!

Behold! from forth the house comes Theonoe, the prophetess, The palace
echoes as the bolts are unfastened; fly! yet what use to fly? For whether
absent or present she knows of thy arrival here. Ah me! how lost am I! Saved
from Troy and from a barbarian land, thou hast come only to fall a prey to
barbarian swords.

THEONOE enters, attended by hand-maidens carrying torches.

THEONOE

Lead on, bearing before me blazing brands, and, as sacred rites ordain,
purge with incense every cranny of the air, that I may breathe heaven’s
breath free from taint; meanwhile do thou, in case the tread of unclean feet
have soiled the path, wave the cleansing flame above it, and brandish the
torch in front, that I may pass upon my way. And when to heaven ye have paid
the customs I exact, bear back into the house the brand from off the hearth.

What of my prophecy, Helen? how stands it now? Thou hast seen thy husband

Menelaus arrive without disguise, reft of his ships, and of thy counterfeit.

Ah, hapless man! what troubles hast thou escaped, and art come hither, and
yet knowest not whether thou art to return or to abide here; for there is
strife in heaven, and Zeus this very day will sit in solemn conclave on
thee. Hera, who erst was thy bitter foe, is now grown kind, and is willing
to bring thee and thy wife safe home, that Hellas may learn that the
marriage of Paris was all a sham, assigned to him by Cypris; but Cypris fain
would mar thy homeward course, that she may not be convicted, or proved to
have bought the palm of beauty at the price of Helen in a futile marriage.

Now the decision rests with me, whether to ruin thee, as Cypris wishes, by
telling my brother of thy presence bere, or to save thy life by taking

Hera’s side, concealing thy coming from my brother, for his orders are that

I should tell him, whensoe’er thou shouldst reach these shores. Ho! one of
you, go show my brother this man is here, that I may secure my safety.

HELEN

Maiden, at thy knees I fall a suppliant, and seat myself in this sad posture
on behalf of myself and him, whom I am in danger of seeing slain, after I
have so hardly found him. Oh! tell not thy brother that my husband is
returned to these loving arms; save us, I beseech thee; never for thy
brother’s sake sacrifice thy character for uprightness, by evil and unjust
means bidding for his favour. For the deity hates violence, and biddeth all
men get lawful gains without plundering others. Wealth unjustly gotten,
though it bring some power, is to be eschewed. The breath of heaven and the
earth are man’s common heritage, wherein to store his home, without taking
the goods of others, or wresting them away by force. Me did Hermes at a
critical time, to my sorrow, intrust to thy father’s safe keeping for this
my lord, who now is here and wishes to reclaim me. But how can he recover me
if he be slain? How could thy sire restore the living to the dead? Oh!

consider ere that the will of heaven and thy father’s too; would the deity
or would thy dead sire restore their neighbour’s goods, or would they
forbear? restore them, I feel sure. It is not, therefore, right that thou
shouldst more esteem thy wanton brother than thy righteous father. Yet if
thou, prophetess as thou art and believer in divine providence, shalt
pervert the just intention of thy father and gratify thy unrighteous
brother, ‘tis shameful thou shouldst have full knowledge of the heavenly
will, both what is and what is not, and yet be ignorant of justice. Oh! save
my wretched life from the troubles which beset it, granting this as an
accession to our good fortune; for every living soul loathes Helen, seeing
that there is gone a rumour throughout Hellas that I was false unto my lord,
and took up my abode in Phrygia’s sumptuous halls. Now, if I come to Hellas,
and set foot once more in Sparta, they will hear and see how they were
ruined by the wiles of goddesses, while was no traitress to my friends after
all; and so will they restore to me my virtuous name again, and I shall give
my daughter in marriage, whom no man now will wed; and, leaving this vagrant
life in Egypt, shall enjoy the treasures in my home. Had Menelaus met his
doom at some funeral pyre, with tears should I be cherishing his memory in a
far-off land, but must lose him now when he is alive and safe? Ah! maiden, I
beseech thee, say not so; grant me this boon, I pray, and reflect thy
father’s justice; for this is the fairest ornament of children, when the
child of a virtuous sire resembles its parents in character.

LEADER

Piteous thy pleading, and a piteous object thou! But I fain would hear what

Menelaus will say to save his life.

MENELAUS

I will not deign to throw myself at thy knees, or wet mine eyes with tears;
for were I to play the coward, I should most foully blur my Trojan fame. And
yet men say it shows a noble soul to let the tear-drop fall in misfortune.

But that will not be the honourable course that I will choose in preference
to bravery, if what I shall say is honourable. Art thou disposed to save a
stranger seeking in mere justice to regain his wife, why then restore her
and save us likewise; if not, this will not be the first by many a time that

I have suffered, though thou wilt get an evil name. All that I deem worthy
of me and honest, all that will touch thy heart most nearly, will I utter at
the tomb of thy sire with regret for his loss. Old king beneath this tomb of
stone reposing, pay back thy trust! I ask of thee my wife whom Zeus sent
hither unto thee to keep for me. I know thou canst never restore her to me
thyself, for thou art dead; but this thy daughter will never allow her
father once so glorious, whom I invoke in his grave, to bear a tarnished
name; for the decision rests with her now. Thee, too, great god of death, I
call to my assistance, who hast received full many a corpse, slain by me for

Helen, and art keeping thy wage; either restore those dead now to life
again, or compel the daughter to show herself a worthy equal of her virtuous
sire, and give me back my wife. But if ye will rob me of her, I will tell
you that which she omitted in her speech. Know then, maiden, I by an oath am
bound, first, to meet thy brother sword to sword, when he or I must
die-there is no alternative. But if he refuse to meet me fairly front to
front, and seek by famine to chase away us suppliants twain at this tomb, I
am resolved to slay Helen, and then to plunge this two-edged sword through
my own heart, upon the top of the sepulchre, that our streaming blood may
trickle down the tomb; and our two corpses will be lying side by side upon
this polished slab, a source of deathless grief to thee, and to thy sire
reproach. Never shall thy brother wed Helen, nor shall any other; I will
bear her hence myself, if not to my house, at any rate to death. And why
this stern resolve? Were I to resort to women’s ways and weep, I should be a
pitiful creature, not a man of action. Slay me, if it seems thee good; I
will not die ingloriously; but better yield to what I say, that thou mayst
act with justice, and I regain my wife.

LEADER

On thee, maiden, it rests to judge between these arguments. Decide in such a
way as to please one and all.

THEONOE

My nature and my inclination lean towards piety; myself, too, I respect, and

I will never sully my father’s fair name, or gratify my brother at the cost
of bringing myself into open dishonour. For justice hath her temple firmly
founded in my nature, and since I have this heritage from Nereus I will
strive to save Menelaus; wherefore, seeing it is Hera’s will to stand thy
friend, I will give my vote with her. May Cypris be favourable to me! though
in me she hath no part, and I will try to remain a maid alway. As for thy
reproaches against my father at this tomb; lo! I have the same words to
utter; I should be wronging thee, did I not restore thy wife; for my sire,
were he living, would have given her back into thy keeping, and thee to her.

Yea, for there is recompense for these things as well amongst the dead as
amongst all those who breathe the breath of life. The soul indeed of the
dead lives no more, yet hath it a consciousness that lasts for ever, eternal
as the ether into which it takes the final plunge. Briefly then to end the
matter, I will observe strict silence on all that ye prayed I should, and
never with my counsel will I aid my brother’s wanton will. For I am doing
him good service, though he little thinks it, if turn him from his godless
life to holiness. Wherefore devise yourselves some way of escape; my lips
are scaled; I will not cross your path. First with the goddesses begin, and
of the one,-and that one Cypris,-Crave permission to return unto thy
country; and of Hera, that her goodwill may abide in the same quarter, even
her scheme to save thee and thy husband. And thou, my own dead sire, shalt
never, in so far as rests with me, lose thy holy name to rank with
evil-doers.

THEONOE and her attendants enter the palace.

LEADER

No man ever prospered by unjust practices, but in a righteous cause there is
hope of safety.

HELEN

Menelaus, on the maiden’s side are we quite safe. Thou must from that point
start, and by contributing thy advice, devise with me a scheme to save
ourselves.

MENELAUS

Hearken then; thou hast been a long while in the palace, and art intimate
with the king’s attendants.

HELEN

What dost thou mean thereby? for thou art suggesting hopes, as if resolved
on some plan for our mutual help.

MENELAUS

Couldst thou persuade one of those who have charge of cars and steeds to
furnish us with a chariot?

HELEN

I might; but what escape is there for us who know nothing of the country and
the barbarian’s kingdom?

MENELAUS

True; ‘tis impossible. Well, supposing I conceal myself in the palace and
slay the king with this two-edged sword?

HELEN

His sister would never refrain from telling her brother that thou wert
meditating his death.

MENELAUS

We have not so much as a ship to make our escape in; for the sea. hath
swallowed the one we had.

HELEN

Hear me, if haply even a woriian can utter words of wisdom. Dost thou
consent to be dead in word, though not really so?

MENELAUS

‘Tis a bad omen; still, if by saying so I shall gain aught, I am ready to be
dead in word, though not in deed.

HELEN

I, too, will mourn thee with hair cut short and dirges, as is women’s way,
before this impious wretch.

MENELAUS

What saving remedy doth this afford us twain? There is deception in thy
scheme.

HELEN

I will beg the king of this country leave to bury thee in a cenotaph, as if
thou hadst really died at sea.

MENELAUS

Suppose he grant it; how, e’en then, are we to escape without a ship, after
having committed me to my empty tomb?

HELEN

I will bid him give me a vessel, from which to let drop into the sea’s
embrace thy funeral offerings.

MENELAUS

A clever plan in truth, save in one particular; suppose he bid thee rear the
tomb upon the strand, thy pretext comes to naught.

HELEN

But I shall say it is not the custom in Hellas to bury those who die at sea
upon the shore.

MENELAUS

Thou removest this obstacle too; I then will sail with thee and help stow
the funeral garniture in the same ship.

HELEN

Above all, it is necessary that thou and all thy sailors who escaped from
the wreck should be at hand.

MENELAUS

Be sure if once I find a ship at her moorings, they shall be there man for
man, each with his sword.

HELEN

Thou must direct everything; only let there be winds to waft our rails and a
good ship to speed before them!

MENELAUS

So shall it be; for the deities will cause my troubles to cease. But from
whom wilt thou say thou hadst tidings of my death?

HELEN

From thee; declare thyself the one and only survivor, telling how thou wert
sailing with the son of Atreus, and didst see him perish.

MENELAUS

Of a truth the garments I have thrown about me, will bear out my tale that
they were rags collected from the wreckage.

HELEN

They come in most opportunely, but they were near being lost just at the
wrong time. Maybe that misfortune will turn to fortune.

MENELAUS

Am I to enter the palace with thee, or are we to sit here at the tomb
quietly?

HELEN

Abide here; for if the king attempts to do thee any mischief, this tomb and
thy good sword will protect thee. But I will go within and cut off my hair,
and exchange my white robe for sable weeds, and rend my cheek with this
hand’s blood-thirsty nail. For ‘tis a mighty struggle, and I see two
possible issues; either I must die if detected in my plot, or else to my
country shall I come and save thy soul alive. O Hera! awful queen, who
sharest the couch of Zeus, grant some respite from their toil to two unhappy
wretches; to thee I pray, tossing my arms upward to heaven, where thou hast
thy home in the star-spangled firmament. Thou, too, that didst win the prize
of beauty at the price of my marriage; O Cypris! daughter of Dione, destroy
me not utterly. Thou hast injured me enough aforetime, delivering up my
name, though not my person, to live amongst barbarians. Oh! suffer me to
die, if death is thy desire, in my native land. Why art thou so insatiate in
mischief, employing every art of love, of fraud, and guileful schemes, and
spells that bring bloodshed on families? Wert thou but moderate, only
that!-in all else thou art by nature man’s most well, come deity; and I have
reason so to say.

HELEN enters the palace and MENELAUS withdraws into the background.

CHORUS singing
strophe 1

Thee let me invoke, tearful Philomel, lurking ‘neath the leafy covert in thy
place of song, most tuneful of all feathered songsters, oh! come to aid me
in my dirge, trilling through thy tawny throat, as I sing the piteous woes
of Helen, and the tearful fate of Trojan dames made subject to Achaea’s
spear, on the day that there came to their plains one who sped with foreign
oar across the dashing billows, bringing to Priam’s race from Lacedaemon
thee his hapless bride, Helen,-even Paris, luckless bridegroom, by the
guidance of Aphrodite.

antistrophe 1

And many an Achaean hath breathed his last amid the spearmen’s thrusts and
hurtling hail of stones, and gone to his sad end; for these their wives cut
off their hair in sorrow, and their houses are left without a bride; and one
of the Achaeans, that had but a single ship, did light a blazing beacon on
sea-girt Euboea, and destroy full many of them, wrecking them <A NAME=“1302”