Dry dust, own brother to the mire of war.—i.e. “I can see by the state of his clothes, caked with dry dust which was once the mire of battle, that he comes straight from the war and can speak with knowledge.” The Herald is probably (though perhaps not quite consistently) conceived as having rushed post-haste with his news. ↩
Herald.—The Herald bursts in overcome with excitement and delight, full of love for his home and everything he sees. A marked contrast to Agamemnon, line. Note that his first speech confirms all the worst fears suggested by Clytemnestra. Agamemnon has committed all the sins she prayed against, and more. The terrible lines 527 ff., “Till her Gods’ Houses, etc.,” are very like a passage in the Persae, 811 ff., where exactly the same acts by the Persian invaders of Greece make their future punishment inevitable. ↩
Pythian Lord.—Apollo is often a sinister figure in tragedy. Cf. Sophocles Oedipus, ll. 915 ff., pp. 52 ff., and the similar scene, Electra, 655 ff. Here it is a shock to the Herald to come suddenly on the god who was the chief enemy of the Greeks at Troy. One feels Apollo an evil presence also in the Cassandra scene, ll. 1071 ff., pp. 47 ff. ↩
Happy among men.—The crown of his triumph! Early Greek thought was always asking the question, What is human happiness? To the Herald Agamemnon has achieved happiness if anyone ever did. Cf. the well-known story of Croesus asking Solon who was the happiest man in the world (Herodotus, I 30–33). ↩
Herald’s second speech.—The connection of thought is: “After all, why should either of us wish to die? All has ended well.” This vivid description of the actualities of war can be better appreciated now than it could in 1913. ↩
These spoils.—Spoils purporting to come from the Trojan War were extant in Greek temples in Aeschylus’ day and later. ↩
Our women’s joy-cry.—There seems to have been in Argos an old popular festival, celebrating with joy or mockery the supposed death of a man and a woman. Homer (Od. III 309 f.) derives it from a rejoicing by Orestes over Aigisthos and Clytemnestra; cf. below, line; Aeschylus here and Sophocles in the Electra, from a celebration by Clytemnestra of the deaths of Agamemnon and Cassandra. Probably it was really some ordinary New Year and Old Year celebration to which the poets give a tragic touch. It seems to have had a woman’s “Ololugmos” in it, perhaps uttered by men. See Kaibel’s note, Soph. Electra 277–281. ↩
Bronze be dyed like wool.—Impossible in the literal sense, but there is after all a way of dying a sword red! ↩
Menelaus.—This digression about Menelaus is due, as similar digressions generally are when they occur in Greek plays, to the poet feeling bound to follow the tradition. Homer begins his longest account of the slaying of Agamemnon by asking “Where was Menelaus?” (Od. III 249). Agamemnon could be safely attacked because he was alone. Menelaus was away, wrecked or wind-bound. ↩
Twofold scourge.—Ares works his will when spear crosses spear, when man meets man. Hence “twofold.” ↩
Chorus. The name Helena.—There was a controversy in Aeschylus’ day whether language, including names, was a matter of Convention or of Nature. Was it mere accident, and could you change the name of anything at will? Or was language a thing rooted in nature and fixed by God from of old? Aeschylus adopts the latter view: Why was this being called Helena? If one had understood God’s purpose one would have seen it was because she really was “Helenâs”—Ship-destroyer. (The Herald’s story of the shipwreck has suggested this particular idea.) Similarly, if a hero was called Aias, and came to great sorrow, one could see that he was so called from “Aiai,” “Alas!”—The antistrophe seems to find a meaning in the name Paris or Alexandras, where the etymology is not so clear. ↩
Entrance of Agamemnon. The metre of the Chorus indicates marching; so that apparently the procession takes some time to move across the orchestra and get into position. Cassandra would be dressed, as a prophetess, in a robe of white reaching to the feet, covered by an agrênon, or net of wool with large meshes; she would have a staff and certain fillets or crowns. The Leader welcomes the King: he explains that, though he was against the war ten years ago, and has not changed his opinion, he is a faithful servant of the King … and that not all are equally so. He gave a similar hint to the Herald above, lines. ↩
Agamemnon.—A hard, cold speech, full of pride in the earlier part, and turning to ominous threats at the end. Those who have dared to be false shall be broken.—At the end comes a note of fear, like the fear in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar. He is so full of triumph and success; he must be very careful not to provoke a fall.—Victory, Nike, was to the Greeks a very vivid and infectious thing. It clung to you or it deserted you. And one who was really charged with Victory, like Agamemnon, was very valuable to his friends and people. Hence they made statues of Victory wingless—so that she should not fly away. See Four Stages of Greek Religion, p. 138 note. ↩
Clytemnestra.—A wonderful speech. It seems to me that Aeschylus’ imagination realized all the confused passions in Clytemnestra’s mind, but that his art
