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IPHIGENIA IN AULIS.

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AGAMEMNON.  Come before this dwelling, O aged man.

OLD MAN.  I come.  But what new thing dost thou meditate, king Agamemnon?

AG.  You shall learn.[1]

OLD M. I hasten.  My old age is very sleepless, and sits wakeful upon mine eyes.

AG.  What star can this be that traverses this way?

OLD M. Sirius, flitting yet midway (between the heavens and the ocean,)[2] close to the seven Pleiads.

AG.  No longer therefore is there the sound either of birds or of the sea, but silence of the winds reigns about this Euripus.

OLD M. But why art thou hastening without the tent, king Agamemnon?  But still there is silence here by Aulis, and the guards of the fortifications are undisturbed.  Let us go within.

AG.  I envy thee, old man, and I envy that man who has passed through a life without danger, unknown, unglorious; but I less envy those in honor.

OLD M. And yet ’tis in this that the glory of life is.

AG.  But this very glory is uncertain, for the love of popularity is pleasant indeed, but hurts when present.  Sometimes the worship of the Gods not rightly conducted upturns one’s life, and sometimes the many and dissatisfied opinions of men harass.

OLD M. I praise not these remarks in a chieftain.  O Agamemnon, Atreus did not beget thee upon a condition of complete good fortune.[3] But thou needs must rejoice and grieve; [in turn,] for thou art a mortal born, and even though you wish it not, the will of the Gods will be thus.  But thou, opening the light of a lamp, art both writing this letter, which thou still art carrying in thy hands, and again you blot out the same characters, and seal, and loose again, and cast the tablet to the ground, pouring abundant tears, and thou lackest naught of the unwonted things that tend to madness.  Why art thou troubled, why art thou troubled?  What new thing, what new thing [has happened] concerning thee, O king?  Come, communicate discourse with me.  But thou wilt speak to a good and faithful man, for to thy wife Tyndarus sent me once on a time, as a dower-gift, and disinterested companion.[4]

AG.  To Leda, daughter of Thestias, were born three virgins, Phoebe, and Clytaemnestra my spouse, and Helen.  Of this latter, the youths of Greece that were in the first state of prosperity came as suitors.  But terrible threats of bloodshed[5] arose against one another, from whoever should not obtain the virgin.  But the matter was difficult for her father Tyndarus, whether to give, or not to give [her in marriage,] and how he might best deal with the circumstances, when this occurred to him; that the suitors should join oaths and plight right hands with one another, and over burnt-offerings should enter into treaty, and bind themselves by this oath, “Of whomsoever the daughter of Tyndarus shall