Helen
Euripides
Euripides. The Plays of Euripides, Translated into English Prose from the Text of Paley. Vol. I. Coleridge, Edward P., translator. London: George Bell and Sons, 1906.
- So that the waves may not wash pollution back ashore.
- A swift Phoenician ship will be there.
- That would be well done, and pleasing to Menelaos, too.
- Can you not perform these rites well enough without Helen?
- This task belongs to mother, or wife, or children.
- According to you, the work of burying her husband belongs to her.
- Yes indeed; piety demands that the dead be not robbed of their due.
- Let her go; it is in my interest to foster piety in a wife. Go inside and choose adornment for the dead;
- I will not send you away from the land empty-handed either, since you have done her a favor. As you have brought me good news, you will receive clothing instead of going in rags, and food, so that you may reach your country, since now I see you doing very badly indeed.
- As for you, poor lady, do not wear yourself out in a hopeless case; Menelaos has met his doom, and your dead husband could not return to life.
- This is your duty, young woman; you must be content with the husband at your side, and let go the one that no longer exists;
- for this is best for you, according to what has happened. And if I come to Hellas and find safety, I will put to an end your former bad reputation, if you are such a wife as you ought to be to your husband.
- I will; my husband will never find fault with me;
- you yourself will be at hand to know it. Now go inside, unhappy man, and find the bath, and change your clothes. I will show my kindness to you without delay. For you will perform the due services with more kindly feeling for my dearest Menelaos,
- if you get from me what you ought to have. Exeunt Theoklymenos, Helen, Menelaos.
- Once with swift foot the mountain mother of the gods rushed through the wooded glen, and the river’s streams
- and the deep-thundering sea wave, yearning for her lost daughter, whose name may not be spoken. The loudly rattling castanets cried out a shrill sound,
- when they, swift-footed as whirlwinds, followed the goddess on her chariot yoked to wild creatures, after the girl that was snatched away from the circling chorus of maidens—
- here Artemis with her bow, and there the grim-eyed goddess, in full armor, with her spear. But Zeus, who sees clearly from his throne in heaven, brought to pass another destiny.
- When the mother ceased from her wild