Aeschylus

“ Athena.
Now shall I charge upon their faith these men
To cast true stones, or would ye speak again?
Leader.
Shot is our every arrow: I but stay
To learn how ends the issue of the day.
Athena.
How shall I cast a judgement in this cause
Unblamed of you, and of the eternal laws?
Apollo.
Ye have heard what ye have heard. Strangers, revere
Your oaths, and cast your judgement without fear.
Athena.
Hear now mine ordinance, ye who have striven
This day to give, what none before hath given,
True judgement o'er spilt blood. ”

“ Athena.
I pray you, nay! Make not this bitter moan;
Ye are not conquered. Equal, stone for stone,
The judgement fell, in honesty of thought,
Not scorn of thee. From Zeus on high was brought
A shining witness; and the god, who gave
The word to slay, himself was here to save,
Lest this man for obedience to his will
Should perish. . . . And for this ye fain would spill
Your poison? Ah, take thought! Nor on our heads
Rain the strange dew a spirit's anger sheds,
Seed-ravening blight and mildews merciless,
Till all the land lie waste in fruitlessness. ”

“ Furies.
Let her who hungereth still for wrong,
⁠Faction, in Athens ne'er again
Lift on the air her ravening song;
⁠Let not the dust of Pallas' Plain
Drink the dark blood of any son
By fury of revenge fordone.
Rage not to smite the smiter, lest
⁠By rage the City's heart be torn:
Bless him that blesseth: in each breast
⁠So shall a single love be born,
And 'gainst Her foes a single hate.
This also maketh firm a state.
Athena.
Wise are they and have found the way
⁠Of peace. ”

“ Exit Apollo. Presently enter the Ghost of Clytemnestra. She watches the sleeping Furies.
Ghost.
Ye sleep. O God, and what are sleepers worth?
'Tis you, have left me among all the dead
Dishonoured. Always, for that blood I shed,
Rebuke and hissing cease not, and I go
Wandering in shame. Oh hear! . . . For that old blow
I struck still I am hated, but for his
Who smote me, being of my blood, there is
No wrath in all the darkness: there is none
Cares for a mother murdered by her son.
⁠Open thine heart to see this gash!—
⁠ (She shows the wound in her throat.) ”

“ Leader.
'Twas not one blood in slayer and in slain.
Apollo.
How? Would ye count as a light thing and vain
The perfect bond of Hera and high Zeus?
Yea, and thy word dishonoureth too the use
Of Cypris, whence love groweth to his best.
The fate-ordainèd meeting, breast to breast,
Of man and woman is a tie more sure
Than oath or pact, if Justice guards it pure.
If them so joined ye heed not when they slay,
Nor rise in wrath, nor smite them on their way,
Unrighteous is thine hunting of this man,
Orestes. Why on him is all thy ban
Unloosed? The other never broke thy rest . . . ”

“ Not Lord Apollo's, not Athena's power
Shall reach thee any more. Forgot, forgot,
Thou reelest back to darkness, knowing not
Where in man's heart joy dwelleth; without blood,
A shadow, flung to devils for their food!
⁠Wilt answer not my word? Wilt spurn thereat,
Thou that art mine, born, doomed, and consecrate
My living feast, at no high altar slain?
Hark thou this song to bind thee like a chain!
Furies (as they move into position for the Dance) . ”

“ The scrutineers bring their results to Athena.
Athena.
This prisoner, since the stones for ill and good
Are equal, hath escaped the doom of blood.
Orestes.
O Pallas, O deliverer of my race,
Thou hast led back the wanderer to his place,
The homeless to his home; and men shall say
"Once more he is an Argive, and this day
Dwells in his father's riches, by the word
Of Pallas, Loxias, and Zeus the Third,
Who saveth all and all accomplisheth." ”

“ The strength to fly. . . . O hands, drag me from here
If feet fail! . . . An old woman, and in fear,
A thing of naught, a babe in helplessness!
I made my way into the Holy Place,
And there, at the inmost Altar of the world,
A man abhorred of God, his body hurled
Earthward in desperate prayer; blood on his hand
Yet reeking, and a naked new-drawn brand
Wreathed in beseeching wool, a suppliant's weed
Of snow-white fleece . . . so much mine eyes could read.
But out in front of him a rout unknown
Of women sleepeth, flung from throne to throne,
Women? Nay, never women! ”

“ There is blood in the Holy Place!
⁠The Heart of Earth uplifteth its foulness in all men's face,
⁠Clean nevermore, nevermore!
—Blood, thou holy Seer, there is blood on thy burning hearth.
⁠Thine inmost place is defiled, and thine was the will and the word.
⁠Thou hast broken the Law of Heaven, exalted the things of Earth;
⁠The hallowed Portions of old thine hand hath blurred.
—Thou knowest to hurt my soul; yea, but shalt save not him.
⁠The earth may open and hide, but never shall he be freed. ”

“ And praise thy judgement, whatsoe'er betide.
Athena.
This is a mystery graver to decide
Than mortal dreameth. Nor for me 'twere good
To sift the passionate punishments of blood.
Since thou hast cast thee on my altar stair
Perfect by suffering, from thy stains that were
Made clean and harmless, suppliant at my knee,
I, in my City's name, must pity thee
And chide not. Yet these too, I may not slight;
They have their portion in the Orb of Right
Eternal. If they are baffled of their will,
The wrath of undone Justice shall distil
Through all the air a poison ”

“ Thy whet-stones of the blood, like poisonous wine
In young men's hearts, till rage and death be stirred.
Oh, take not from the fierce mate-murdering bird
The heart to give my people, the blind war
Within, that burneth most where brethren are.
War with the stranger, yes; no stint thereof;
Terror is there, and glory, and great love;
But not the mad bird-rage that slays at home.
Such let thine office be. And if there come
True-hearted war, I will not fail to uphold
This land victorious where great deeds are told. ”

“ Athena.
Make clear thy word, that all be understood.
Leader.
We hunt from home the shedder of man's blood.
Athena.
What end appoint ye to that flight of his?
Leader.
A land where none remembereth what joy is.
Athena.
And such a chase on this man thou wilt cry?
Leader.
Who dared to be his mother's murderer, aye.
Athena.
What goaded him? Some fear, some unseen wrath?
Leader.
What goad could drive a man on such a path?
Athena (looking at Orestes) .
Why speaketh one alone, when two are there?
Leader.
He will not swear, nor challenge me to swear.
Athena. ”

“ Apollo.
Remember! Let no fear thy spirit quell!
⁠Do thou, O Hermes, brother of my blood,
Watch over him. Thou guide of man, make good
The name thou bearest, shepherding again
My suppliant. Him who pitieth suffering men
Zeus pitieth, and his ways are sweet on earth. ”

“ To reject the suppliant who has tried his best to do right is an offence; yet to save a particular sinner from the due consequence of his sin is an offence too. If one guilty man is to go unpunished, what remains of the Law? Athena decides to found a tribunal to inquire into the whole case and decide as it may think just, and this is the origin of the famous Court of the Areopagus. ”

“ Presently enter the Furies, following him.
Leader.
Ha! Here he has passed. Spot reeketh upon spot.
Blood is a spy that points and babbles not.
Like hounds that follow some sore-wounded fawn,
We smell the way that blood and tears are gone,
And follow.—Oh, my belly gaspeth sore
With toils man-wasting; I can chase no more. ”

“ The Law that can pardon and understand can itself be understood and loved. Its ministers are no longer alien and hostile beings, proud of the agonies which they righteously inflict and the hatred which they naturally inspire. They are accepted by Athena as fellow-citizens, and their Law recognized as an inward aspiration, a standard of right living which men consciously need and seek. ”

“ A modern reader is more likely to ask why, if Orestes only fulfilled the command of Zeus, he should be punished at all. Why is s there any talk of suffering and forgiveness? The answer is quite straightforward. He has after all broken the Law; he has offended against Themis and Moira, and he must suffer. In modern language, a man who kills his mother, even if he is amply justified in doing so, is bound to suffer acute grief and distress; if he did not, he would really deserve to be punished. It is only in the end that Zeus can overrule and make good, just as he did with Io and with Prometheus. ”

“ But in Paul, when man is to be forgiven, the sin still claims its punishment, the blood will still have blood; and the only way to appease it is for the Divine King, himself or his son, to "die for the people." Thus the pollution is cleansed and sin duly paid with blood, though it happens to be the blood of the innocent. Aeschylus, as a poet, was familiar with that conception. He knew how Codrus died, and Menoikeus and Macaria, how Agamemnon and Erechtheus and other kings had given their children to die. ”