Helen - V:490

MENELAUS

What is this? Have there not been enough

troubles? Now on top of my old woes

I'm hearing of a brand new wretchedness.

I brought my wife here, taking her from Troy,

stowed her for safety in a cave nearby.

But there's another one, with the same name,

living in this house at the same time,

and Zeus' daughter was the porter's claim.

Can it be Zeus is a common name

in Egypt? No, there' one Zeus -- in the sky.

And where else in the world could Sparta be

except along Eurotas' reedy stream?

Could two men bear Tyndraeus' name?

Can any place exist synonymous

with Sparta or with Troy! I'm at a loss.

Yet is it so astounding, after all?

The world is big; therefore, identical

names for women, cities, men should be

common.

Helen - V:120

HELEN

Helen, you wretch, the Trojans died for you!

Helen - V:40

Leaving his mountain mangers, Paris came

to Sparta, where he thought that he could claim

his prize -- my bed. But Hera, whose defeat

enraged her, had contrived a trick to cheat

the prince, bestowing on him in my place

a breathing phantom shaped from nothingness.

Paris was sure he was embracing me;

it was an empty image, sheerest vanity.

Helen - Opening

HELEN

This is the river Nile, whose waters flow --

fed not by rain but gleaming melted snow --

through Egypt, where King Proteus held sway,

living on Pharos island. Psamatha,

one of the daughters of the Sea, he wed

after she left Aeacus' marriage bed.

Suppliant Women - Closing

THESEUS

Athena, queen,I'll do as you direct me.

You steady me, keep me from going awry.

This man I'll blind with an oath. I only ask now:

Keep me on course. Look favorably on our city.

And then we'll manage safely for all time.

CHORUS

So, Adrastus, let's leave, having made our vow

to this man and his town. Those who've done so much

deserve our respect and compliance.

Suppliant Women - V:620

HALF-CHORUS A

I wish words won the day. If not, the dead

in fields of blood! Beating of breasts! And city-wide

the sounds of grief! I'll be to blame! What bitter words

will shrill their guilt and rage in my ear?

Suppliant Women - V:420

THESEUS

You're off to a bad start stranger. A slur, I take it,

when you talk of "monarch" here. Our city's free.

There's no one person rules it. The city itself

is its own ruler, with all taking part in annual

rotation, so that no rich man gets to hog

more than his share. The poor have a say as well.

THEBAN HERALD

Aha! That gives me a leg up in the game.

Now take the city I come from: one man,

and I mean one man is in charge, not just some mob.

No rabble-rouser full of hot-air can twist,

for private gain, our policy every which way,

charming, no doubt, at the moment, making friends,

though there's hell to pay as a consequence. Smear tactics

conceal the scandals and your crook goes free.

Besides, unless the speaker level with them,

how can your people know enough to manage?

Weighing things soberly gives a better perspective

than snap decisions. For example, your poor father --

just assuming he's not a lunkhead -- has no time,

with all of that heavy lifting, to think politics.

It's nauseating for the abler citizens when some no-goodnick scrabbles his way to the top

by his gift of gab -- to the top! a former nobody!

Suppliant Women - V:210

My homage goes to the god who out of chaos

and brutishness plotted the orderly world we live in,

first giving us thought, then a tongue that turned that thought

into airy words that the ears could catch and fathom.

Next, gave us fruit and grain; for its cultivation

sent falling rain from heaven for thirsty earth

and its thirsty people. Besides, gave means of warmth

against the winter, protection from summer's heat.

Then taught us to ply the sea with oar and sail

in commerce, exchanging our surplus for our dearth.

For what's mysterious, past our understanding,

we've prophets to read the riddles: they study flames,

pore over twisted entrails, watch the birds.

Then aren't they finicky folk who cry "Too little!"

given all that providence has supplied us with?

But we, ion our arrogant drive to be more than gods

arrive at so heady a pitch of self-conceit

that we tell ourselves we're wiser than heaven itself.

Suupliant Women - Opening

CHORUS

Strophe

At your feet now, O revered one,

as we kneel here, who are old too,

supplicating you: secure

the release of our dead children's remains

that are left scattered in limb-slackening death

by the wicked, as obscene food for the wild beasts of the hills.

Hippolytus - V:1490

CHORUS

Down on the city

strokes without warning:

all's desolation.

Rain down, O flowing

tears of our mourning.

Death of a great one

wails among nations.

(Curtain.)

Hippolytus - V:1460

Now, son of Aegeus, enfold him, your dear child,

close in your arms. Though you killed him, you're guiltless.

Terrible deeds that the gods may accomplish,

using you: no man's responsible for them.

Hippolytus - V:1360

ARTEMIS

Your deeds have been dreadful;

but it is also possible we will forgive you.

Cypris has willed all these vile actions

spitefully. Gods have the following custom:

No god dares interfere with the actions

taken by others among the immortals.

All stand aside when a plot's undertaken.

You maybe sure, Had I not feared dread Zeus,

never would I have endured such shame: the

death of him dearest to me among mortals.

Agony, forced to look on and do nothing!

So you were ignorant. That may excuse you.

It was impossible for you to test her,

and you believed. How troublesome death is!

So you have suffered ... but I grieve also.

Death of the innocent brings no pleasure

to the immortals; we only delight in

wrecking the wicked, their houses, their children.

Electra - Closing

CHORUS

Farewell. The mortal life that does well,

that never meets misfortune,

is a life most truly blessed.

Electra - Opening

PEASANT

Ah, old Argos ... Once, King Agamemnon

sailed from these streams of Inachus,

his thousand galleys bound for Troy.

And when he had slain their king Priam

and sacked that glorious Ilian city, he

returned to Argos and filled its lofty shrines

with countless Barbarian treasures.

Hippolytus - V:920

THESEUS

Men are such fools! Work, labor -- for what, then?

Numberless crafts that they teach each other;

twist and invent and discover; but one thing

always, it seems, will elude them, the cure for

all these clever accomplishments: wisdom.

Hippolytus - V:810

CHORUS

Unlucky woman, you endured;

your life, a dynasty's destruction;

your death, a deed unsanctioned.

You wrestled with yourself and lost.

We gaze, and do we see in you

the divine power that brought this darkness?

Hippolytus - V:620

HIPPOLYTUS

Great Zeus, why on this earth is there room for

women, that counterfeit version of mankind?

Why, if you needed to propagate people,

couldn't we go to your temples and buy them?

Why must we labor and sweat upon females?

We could pay pieces of gold or of silver,

bronze, lead, iron to pay for our offspring, charging the poor dads less than the rich ones,

everyone happily dwelling in houses

blissfully free of detestable females.

Now, as it is, what happens? The banes come

home with us, burdening, costing us dearly.

Positive proof that women are baneful's

this: that the father who got one and raised her

pays out more money, pays out a dowry,

just to be free of her after his trouble.

Hippolytus - Opening

translated by Richard Moore

APHRODITE

Everyone knows me. I'm Cyprid, the goddess.

Sex and desire, my specialties, draw men

helpless from Pontus to Heracles' Pillars.

Those that delight in me, I can reward them;

those that detest me will harvest my hatred.

Even immortals get caught in my soft snares.

Goddesses love it when worshipers gather.

Copyright 1998 University of Pennsylvania Press

All rights reserved

Printed in the United States of America on acid-free paper

Published by

University of Pennsylvania Pree

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19104-4011

Euripides, 2

Hippolytus, Suppliant Women,

Helen, Electra, Cyclops

Edited by

David R. Slavitt and Palmer Bovie