Agamemnon In Plain and Simple English (Translated)

By BookCaps

Revenge. Adultery. Murder. It certainly sounds like a lively play. Unfortunately, archaic translation make understanding Aeschylus' "Agamemnon" a little difficult. Until now!

If you have struggled in the past reading the ancient classic, then BookCaps can help you out. This book is a modern translation with a fresh spin.

The original text is also presented in the book with a comparable version of the modern text.

We all need refreshers every now and then. Whether you are a student trying to cram for that big final, or someone just trying to understand a book more, BookCaps can help. We are a small, but growing company, and are adding titles every month.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookCaps
• Release date: Mar 29, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301865239

BookCaps

We all need refreshers every now and then. Whether you are a student trying to cram for that big final, or someone just trying to understand a book more, BookCaps can help. We are a small, but growing company, and are adding titles every month.Visit www.bookcaps.com to see more of our books, or contact us with any questions.

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About This Series

The Classic Retold series started as a way of telling classics for the modern reader—being careful to preserve the themes and integrity of the original. Whether you want to understand Shakespeare a little more or are trying to get a better grasps of the Greek classics, there is a book waiting for you!

Characters

AGAMEMNON, son of Atreus and King of Argos and Mycenae;

Commander-in-Chief of the Greek armies in the War against Troy.

CLYTEMNESTRA, daughter of Tyndareus, sister of Helen; wife to Agamemnon.

AIGISTHOS, son of Thyestes, cousin and blood-enemy to Agamemnon

lover to Clytemnestra.

CASSANDRA, daughter of Priam, King of Troy, a prophetess;

now slave to Agamemnon.

A WATCHMAN.

A HERALD.

CHORUS of Argive Elders, faithful to AGAMEMNON.

CHARACTERS MENTIONED IN THE PLAY

MENELÂÜS, brother to Agamemnon, husband of Helen, and King of Sparta.

The two sons of Atreus are called the Atreidae.

HELEN, most beautiful of women; daughter of Tyndareus, wife to

MENELÂÜS ; beloved and carried off by Paris.

PARIS, son of Priam, King of Troy, lover of Helen.

Also called ALEXANDER.

PRIAM, the aged King of Troy.

The Greeks are also referred to as Achaians, Argives, Danaans;

Troy is also called Ilion.

The play was produced in the archonship if Philocles (458 B.C.).

The first prize was won by Aeschylus with the Agamemnon,

Libation-Bearers, Eumenides, and the Satyr Play Proteus .

Modern Version

The Scene represents a space in front of the Palace of Agamemnon in

Argos, with an Altar of Zeus in the centre and many other altars at the

sides. On a high terrace of the roof stands a WATCHMAN. It is night .

WATCHMAN.

For a whole empty year I have prayed

For God to give us some relief, leaning here

Like a watchdog above the halls of the Atreidae;

I have certainly become familiar

With the patterns of the stars, and the ones

Which appear to show summer and winter,

The bright ones which gleam with the fire of heaven.

And still I'm waiting for the sign, the flame of the beacon

Which would tell us that Troy

Had been captured. A woman in love

With a man is just as faithful!

And when I go back to bed, soaked

With the dew, I stumble in the dark,

And I have no dreams or sleep,

I'm always surrounded by fear that if

I fall too fast asleep I won't wake up again;

If I decide to sing or hum a tune

To stop myself sleeping, the music soon

Changes to sighing for the untold story

Of this house, which is not ruled as well as it used to be.

However, maybe God will give us some rest, by

Showing us the flaming beacons in the night.

Aha!

Here is the light which sets fire to the dark, which

Shows the dawn when it dances on the earth of Greece,

Showing this great news! Greetings! Hello there, inside!

Hello! Go and tell Agamemnon's Queen

To rise up like the dawn, and for her and her women

To sing a song of triumphant in answer to this happy flame,

If it really is true that the city of Troy

Has fallen, as those flaming beacons tell us.

I myself will dance before

Anyone else; for I think this is a lucky day

For both myself and my master.

Whether things are good or bad, I shall once again

Shake the hand of my dear Lord, when he comes back! I won't say anything

More than that. I feel as though my tongue

Is tied. But these stone walls, if they could speak,

They know, what a great story they could tell.

As for me, I can speak to anyone who knows it,

If anyone else asks me, I know nothing.

CHORUS.

It is ten years since the justified enemies of Troy,

The strong Atreidae,

Menelaus and also Agamemnon rose up,

Two thrones, two kingdoms, joined by God;

And a thousand Greek ships sailed

Over the sea to right a wrong;

And the storm of battle cried all round them,

As the vultures cry

When their nest is robbed, and they fly up

In lonely agony, circling wide,

With their great wings like oars in the empty sky,

For they have lost their task of keeping

Watch over their vulture babies while they sleep.

But there is someone who hears high above,

Pan or Zeus, some lost Apollo–

They hear that keen suffering cry of the birds,

Of the stranger in the sky of God who has been wronged;

And they send down their anger

To punish those who have broken the law.

This is how Zeus, who watches over his friends,

Who always triumphs, sent the two Atreidae

After Paris, who had gone to search

For the one whom many men loved;

Yes, he sent him dances

To celebrate his wedding,

Terrible wrestling and broken limbs

For Greeks and Trojans, crushed down to earth,

The dust awash with blood and the spears broken.

He knows that what has happened has happened,

And the future is coming close behind;

He is desperate to find God,

He piles up his offerings, he makes his pyre

With flames below and oil on top,

And he cries, but his emotions will never

Inspire the God who rejects his sacrifice.

We saw them go to take revenge that day,

And they left us here, for we are old

And weak; and these sticks support

A strength not much more than that of a child.

For the energy that drives a young man's hand

And the bravery of older men, they have all left this place.

And the old man, while the dead leaves blow

And he walks on three feet with his staff,

He goes, weak as a baby and alone,

Like a leftover dream still present in daylight.

But you, O daughter of Tyndareus,

Queen Clytemnestra, what do you need? What is the news?

What story or news has inspired you

To send word throughout the city

That there should be thanksgiving? For every god

That guards the city, high and low,

Gods of the marketplace, gods of the sky,

Their altars are all blazing.

Some here, some there,

The flames leap up into the night sky,

Inspired by the sweet soft orders

Of she who brings sweetness to kings.

Don't ignore us, O Queen, tell us

Everything that you can,

And help remove this painful thought

Which at one time hung over us, evil,

And then from the fires you have lit

Hope will be kindled, and our worries

Will fall away for a little while, and

My heart will be rested again.

CHORUS.

(The sign seen on the way; Eagles tearing apart a pregnant hare)

We must tell you of a sign shown on the way to war,

To men stronger than us,

(for a life similar to ours breathes from heaven

A spell, a strength in song)

How the forces of Achia, led by her two kings,

Greater than anything the Greeks have,

Were guided, revenging forces, against Troy

By the bird of war.

Each of those kings of the sea had a king amongst birds,

One black eagle, one black but with a gleaming white tail,

They stood where all could see them, by the leaders,

And they killed a hare and the fetus in her womb,

They killed the life which was not yet lived.

Sorrow, you will come, but may good prevail!

(How Calchas interpreted the sign; what he saw in the future)

And the prophet of war, as he saw the pair of Atreid kings

Working together, knew

That those fierce birds represented the leaders of the army; and he spoke,

Reading the omens correctly.

"At the very end these hunters will hunt down Troy,

Yes, and in front of its walls

The space between its country and the city

Shall be laid to waste;

As long as the eye of God does not turn against us,

And this great force heading for Troy does not fail.

For pity is still alive, and she hates those eagles,

Which killed the unborn child in the body of the hare.

Artemis despises the eagles' feasting;

Sorrow, you will come, but may good prevail!"

(He prays to Artemis to make the sign come true, but as he sees more, he becomes afraid and asks Paian, the Healer, to restrain her)

"You beautiful one, you tender lover

Of the moist breath of the child of the lions;

You who are loved in all country

By all young wild animals,

Make the sign of the Eagles' kill come true!

Although the vision is horrible, make it true…

But oh, oh! Stop her, oh Paian, stop her!

For look, she has decided to create other evils,

Bringing great storms, driving on ships over unknown seas,

On, on, until there is more bloodshed:

They kill but do not feast; they do not pray; the law is broken;

They are tormented, and the bride does not obey,

And beyond that the anger is returning–

It is plotting, it haunts the house, for it never forgets–

It is waiting to punish a child yet unborn."

This is how Calchas, reading the sign of the eagles by the road,

Spoke to the Kings, with blessings and predictions of evil;

Let your song be like his:

Sorrow, you may come, but may good prevail!

(Religion like this belongs to the old barbarian gods, and will not bring peace. I turn to Zeus, who has demonstrated how man can learn through suffering)

Zeus! Zeus, whatever He is,

If He loves to hear this name,

That is what I shall call Him.

Searching through earth and sea and air

I can find no place of safety

Apart from with Him, if my mind

Can throw off its vanity

Before it dies.

There was a King who ruled in olden days,

Full of anger and courage and noise,

But his name has been forgotten!

Those who followed

Met with the same fate.

Only those whose hearts have known

Zeus, the conqueror and friend,

Will achieve what they desire;

Zeus is the guide, who made man

Consider his thoughts, Zeus, who ordered

That men shall learn through suffering.

So his heart will bleed

And will not rest, aching

With the memory of pain, until

Wisdom comes to him against his will.

That is the gift He gives, lifting

You to the throne through strife.

(Agamemnon accepted the sign. Then there was a long delay due to storms while the fleet was harboured at Aulis)

So on that day the Elder Lord,

The leader of the ships of the Alliance,

Did not argue with the words of the prophet,

Accepted the fate that was coming,

When with no water, their lips

Parched and the seas uncrossable,

Fate fell on that Greek army,

Facing Chalcis as it lay

By Aulis in that stormy harbour.

(At last Calchas told Agamemnon that Artemis was angry and demanded that he sacrifice his daughter. The King is full of doubt and sorrow)

And the winds blew from the river Strymon,

Uncontrolled, cutting, laying waste to everything,

Blinding men, who could find no shelter on their ships,

And this terrible period went on and on

Until the great Greek army was utterly ruined;

Then through the noise of the storm they heard the song of the war prophet,

Telling them how they could calm the storm,

But how the remedy would be even worse for the Princes.

Then he whispered the name of Artemis,

And those two brother kings trembled,

And beat the earth with their sticks, and wept.

But the older of the kings found his voice and spoke:

"I'm sure there will be a heavy punishment if God's orders are ignored;

But to kill my own child, my family's pride and joy,

Isn't that too harsh? For her blood to run down

The altar, killed by her father?

Whatever I do will lead to sorrow.

Will Agamemnon let his Navy and his people down,

And let the armies of Greece melt away like the snow?

They cry out, they are thirsting for death to break the spell,

For the blood of a virgin: this is an ancient ceremony, men say.

And they are desperate for it to be done–O God, may it all turn out well!"

(But his ambition drove him on, until he agreed to commit the sin of killing his daughter, Iphigenia, as a sacrifice)

He slowly bowed down to inevitable fate,

And a strange storm raged in his heart,

A wind of dark thoughts, unclean and unholy;

He stood up, driven to the last extreme.

There is a blindness which makes men bold,

Which makes them act on their lowest desires, which brings

Sorrow afterwards, and is a sorrow itself;

So this man hardened himself to kill his own child,

To help him take revenge for the laughter of a woman

And to save his navy!

They didn't care about her echoing sad cry of, Father, Father,

Nor the breath which flowed from her virgin heart,

Those armoured soldiers, hardened by battle,

And they prayed there, and when the prayer was done

He ordered the young men to tie her and haul her up,

As you do with a wild goat, high above the altar,

Gripping herself tightly, clinging onto

The robe she was wrapped in; then he told them to gag

The speech from her sweet mouth, those faltering cries,

–This will curse him forever!–

Violently, screaming through her gag,

She threw her yellow cloak down to the ground,

And her