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So, here is where Orestes and Pylades come up with the Best Plan Ever, and the point at which this all starts to really resemble a Fiasco playset. Because it's not enough that these people have been sentenced to death, no; now they're running around plotting more murder, and planning to add some absolutely unnecessary secondary suicide to all this because FRIENDSHIP. Yeah.
Fiasco, I'm telling you.
Pylades:
Hold on. I have one reproach for you first, if you were hoping I’d live with you dying.
Orestes:
Why should you come to dying after me?
Pylades:
You’re asking? Why live without your companionship?
Orestes:
You didn’t kill your mother, as I wretchedly did.
Pylades:
I did it with you; I must suffer the same things as you.
Orestes:
Give your body back to your father; don’t die with me. You still have a city--as I do not--and your father’s house, and a great harbor of wealth. You’ve been robbed of marriage with this unlucky woman, whom I betrothed to you in honoring our friendship, but when you’ve taken some other marriage bed you’ll make children; we’re no longer inlaws. Be well, dear heart of my friend; “well” isn’t for us, but it is for you; for we dying folks are bereft of joys.
Pylades:
You’ve left my wishes far behind. May the fruitful soil not accept my blood, nor the bright air, if ever I betray you, freeing myself and abandoning you. For I killed with you, I will not deny it, and planned with you all the things for which you are now paying the penalty; thus it is necessary for me to die together with you and with her; I judge her to be my wife, whose wedding bed I meant to take. For what beautiful thing will I say on going to the Delphian land, acropolis of the Phoceans, who was a friend to you before your misfortune, and now I am no longer a friend to you who are unfortunate? Impossible. But these things are a concern to me too; and since we’ll die, let’s come to common words, so Menelaus will be unfortunate too.
Orestes:
O dearest, if only I could see this before dying.
Pylades:
Now obey me, and wait on the sword-cutting.
Orestes:
I will wait, if I’ll get some revenge on my enemy.
Pylades:
Now quiet, as I trust women little.
Orestes:
Don’t run away from these ones; they’re here as friends to us.*
Pylades:
Let’s kill Helen, a bitter grief to Menelaus.
Orestes:
How? For the readiness is present, if it goes well.
Pylades:
Cutting the throat; and she’s hiding herself in the house?
Orestes:
Definitely; and she’s sealing up everything.**
Pylades:
Not any more, having gotten Hades for a bridegroom.
Orestes:
And how? She has foreign attendants.
Pylades:
Which ones? For I’d fear no one of the Phrygians.
Orestes:
The sort to be commanders of mirrors and perfumes.
Pylades:
She’s come here bringing Trojan luxuries?
Orestes:
Greece is a small dwelling-place to her.
Pylades:
Slaves are nothing to those born free.
Orestes:
Having done this, I don’t dread to die twice.
Pylades:
But I don’t either, when I’m avenging you.
Orestes:
Make the deed clear and wrap it up, what it is you’re saying.
Pylades:
We’ll go into the house pretending we’re to die.
Orestes:
I get that, but I don’t get the rest.
Pylades:
We’ll set ourselves near her weeping over what we’re suffering.
Orestes:
So that she comes out crying, rejoicing on the inside.
Pylades:
It’ll be the same thing for us two as for her
Orestes:
How will we next fight our fight?
Pylades:
We’ll carry swords hidden in these cloaks.
Orestes:
What destruction will occur for the attendants?
Pylades:
We’ll lock up different ones in different parts of the building.
Orestes:
And it’s necessary to kill any that aren’t silent.
Pylades:
Then the deed is clear for which we must reach.
Orestes:
To kill Helen; I understand what you mean.
Pylades:
You’ve got it. But listen to how well I’ve planned it. For if we plunge swords into a more self-controlled woman, it would be an inglorious murder; but now she’ll pay the price for the whole of Greece, for the fathers of those who died, for the children of those she destroyed, and their betrothed women she made bereft. There’ll be a joyous cry, and they’ll light up a fire to the gods, praying for many good things to happen to you and to me, since we murdered a wicked woman. Having killed this woman, you won’t be called The Matricide, but abandoning that you’ll fall on better times, called the killer of Helen the Much-Killing.
It must never be, it must not be, that Menelaus do well, but your father and your sister and you die, and your mother--I’ll leave that matter alone; it’s not seemly to speak on it--and he holds your house, having retrieved his woman*** by the spear of Agamemnon. May she already not be alive, if I will not draw my black sword against that woman. And if we should not prevail with the murder of Helen, we’ll die after burning down the house. For if we don’t fail at one of these we’ll get glory, either for dying well or for saving others well.
Chorus:
Tyndareos’ daughter has earned the hatred of all women; she dishonored her kind.
Orestes:
Alas! There’s not anything better than a clear friend, not wealth or monarchy; there’s no counting up the value in exchange for a noble friend. You came up with the bad things to do to Aegisthus, and you were standing beside me in danger, and now again you’re giving me vengeance on enemies and not moving out of the way if--I’ll stop praising you, for even this is a burden, to praise overmuch. But all the same, when I’m breathing out my life, I want to die having acted on my enemies, so that I may destroy in return those who betrayed me, and those who set misery on me groan out.
I was born the child of Agamemnon, who was thought worthy to lead all of Greece, not as a monarch, but all the same holding a strength of the gods; I will not dishonor him, taking up some slavish death, but I will send forth my soul like a free man, and I will make Menelaus pay. For if we should get one thing, we’ll be lucky, if an unexpected salvation should fall in from somewhere, that we kill without dying. I pray for these things; for I want this, and it’s even sweet to delight in the cost-free winged words passing through my mouth.
---
* That is, the chorus of women that’s hanging out around the stage, waiting for their singing/bemoaning cue.
** Not in the sense of blocking off the entrances to protect herself from the men, but stamping her personal seal on things to mark them as her own. Or so the end notes claim; I am a bit dubious, as the dictionary entry makes it sound much more like sealing gaps than stamping things.
*** Oddly, the word used here is νύμφην, which more often refers to young or unmarried women. It seems an odd use for Helen in this context, but perhaps it’s being used in contrast to its previous use in this speech: the “betrothed women” whom Helen made bereft.
---
Join us again in our next episode, when Electra steps up and acts as a voice of reason compared to these two!
...ahahahaha. No, she steps up and makes their terrible plan even worse. It's sort of impressive. No wonder the city voted to stone these murderous fools.
Fiasco, I'm telling you.
Pylades:
Hold on. I have one reproach for you first, if you were hoping I’d live with you dying.
Orestes:
Why should you come to dying after me?
Pylades:
You’re asking? Why live without your companionship?
Orestes:
You didn’t kill your mother, as I wretchedly did.
Pylades:
I did it with you; I must suffer the same things as you.
Orestes:
Give your body back to your father; don’t die with me. You still have a city--as I do not--and your father’s house, and a great harbor of wealth. You’ve been robbed of marriage with this unlucky woman, whom I betrothed to you in honoring our friendship, but when you’ve taken some other marriage bed you’ll make children; we’re no longer inlaws. Be well, dear heart of my friend; “well” isn’t for us, but it is for you; for we dying folks are bereft of joys.
Pylades:
You’ve left my wishes far behind. May the fruitful soil not accept my blood, nor the bright air, if ever I betray you, freeing myself and abandoning you. For I killed with you, I will not deny it, and planned with you all the things for which you are now paying the penalty; thus it is necessary for me to die together with you and with her; I judge her to be my wife, whose wedding bed I meant to take. For what beautiful thing will I say on going to the Delphian land, acropolis of the Phoceans, who was a friend to you before your misfortune, and now I am no longer a friend to you who are unfortunate? Impossible. But these things are a concern to me too; and since we’ll die, let’s come to common words, so Menelaus will be unfortunate too.
Orestes:
O dearest, if only I could see this before dying.
Pylades:
Now obey me, and wait on the sword-cutting.
Orestes:
I will wait, if I’ll get some revenge on my enemy.
Pylades:
Now quiet, as I trust women little.
Orestes:
Don’t run away from these ones; they’re here as friends to us.*
Pylades:
Let’s kill Helen, a bitter grief to Menelaus.
Orestes:
How? For the readiness is present, if it goes well.
Pylades:
Cutting the throat; and she’s hiding herself in the house?
Orestes:
Definitely; and she’s sealing up everything.**
Pylades:
Not any more, having gotten Hades for a bridegroom.
Orestes:
And how? She has foreign attendants.
Pylades:
Which ones? For I’d fear no one of the Phrygians.
Orestes:
The sort to be commanders of mirrors and perfumes.
Pylades:
She’s come here bringing Trojan luxuries?
Orestes:
Greece is a small dwelling-place to her.
Pylades:
Slaves are nothing to those born free.
Orestes:
Having done this, I don’t dread to die twice.
Pylades:
But I don’t either, when I’m avenging you.
Orestes:
Make the deed clear and wrap it up, what it is you’re saying.
Pylades:
We’ll go into the house pretending we’re to die.
Orestes:
I get that, but I don’t get the rest.
Pylades:
We’ll set ourselves near her weeping over what we’re suffering.
Orestes:
So that she comes out crying, rejoicing on the inside.
Pylades:
It’ll be the same thing for us two as for her
Orestes:
How will we next fight our fight?
Pylades:
We’ll carry swords hidden in these cloaks.
Orestes:
What destruction will occur for the attendants?
Pylades:
We’ll lock up different ones in different parts of the building.
Orestes:
And it’s necessary to kill any that aren’t silent.
Pylades:
Then the deed is clear for which we must reach.
Orestes:
To kill Helen; I understand what you mean.
Pylades:
You’ve got it. But listen to how well I’ve planned it. For if we plunge swords into a more self-controlled woman, it would be an inglorious murder; but now she’ll pay the price for the whole of Greece, for the fathers of those who died, for the children of those she destroyed, and their betrothed women she made bereft. There’ll be a joyous cry, and they’ll light up a fire to the gods, praying for many good things to happen to you and to me, since we murdered a wicked woman. Having killed this woman, you won’t be called The Matricide, but abandoning that you’ll fall on better times, called the killer of Helen the Much-Killing.
It must never be, it must not be, that Menelaus do well, but your father and your sister and you die, and your mother--I’ll leave that matter alone; it’s not seemly to speak on it--and he holds your house, having retrieved his woman*** by the spear of Agamemnon. May she already not be alive, if I will not draw my black sword against that woman. And if we should not prevail with the murder of Helen, we’ll die after burning down the house. For if we don’t fail at one of these we’ll get glory, either for dying well or for saving others well.
Chorus:
Tyndareos’ daughter has earned the hatred of all women; she dishonored her kind.
Orestes:
Alas! There’s not anything better than a clear friend, not wealth or monarchy; there’s no counting up the value in exchange for a noble friend. You came up with the bad things to do to Aegisthus, and you were standing beside me in danger, and now again you’re giving me vengeance on enemies and not moving out of the way if--I’ll stop praising you, for even this is a burden, to praise overmuch. But all the same, when I’m breathing out my life, I want to die having acted on my enemies, so that I may destroy in return those who betrayed me, and those who set misery on me groan out.
I was born the child of Agamemnon, who was thought worthy to lead all of Greece, not as a monarch, but all the same holding a strength of the gods; I will not dishonor him, taking up some slavish death, but I will send forth my soul like a free man, and I will make Menelaus pay. For if we should get one thing, we’ll be lucky, if an unexpected salvation should fall in from somewhere, that we kill without dying. I pray for these things; for I want this, and it’s even sweet to delight in the cost-free winged words passing through my mouth.
---
* That is, the chorus of women that’s hanging out around the stage, waiting for their singing/bemoaning cue.
** Not in the sense of blocking off the entrances to protect herself from the men, but stamping her personal seal on things to mark them as her own. Or so the end notes claim; I am a bit dubious, as the dictionary entry makes it sound much more like sealing gaps than stamping things.
*** Oddly, the word used here is νύμφην, which more often refers to young or unmarried women. It seems an odd use for Helen in this context, but perhaps it’s being used in contrast to its previous use in this speech: the “betrothed women” whom Helen made bereft.
---
Join us again in our next episode, when Electra steps up and acts as a voice of reason compared to these two!
...ahahahaha. No, she steps up and makes their terrible plan even worse. It's sort of impressive. No wonder the city voted to stone these murderous fools.