Original subtitles

Strike!

O, wretched Argos!

Our armies under Agamemnon conquered the world.

How far have we fallen since!

When he returned in triumph, we called him "The Blessed One".

"The Blessed One"...

They buried him in a field like a dog. Butchers!

Aegisthus is marrying her off to a peasant.

Poor Electra.

He sent away all her noble suitors.

He fears her vengeance.

It's strange he did not kill her.

Keeping her locked up all these years...

Her mother stopped him.

She's frightened of the people, black-hearted whore!

So she buries her alive in this base marriage.

The sun looked down from its golden chariot...

at the earth stretched out below.

And when it saw the wrongs of men...

Abruptly changed its course.

Darkness fell over the east.

Fires raged in the west.

Black clouds gathered from the north...

And nature was laid waste.

But the day will come and the land will rejoice.

The mountains will be green again.

And the earth will drink its fill.

And like a fawn in the forest...

You shall lead the dance...

Gathering armfuls...

of flowers and smiles.

I am Electra...

daughter of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra.

O, bitter fate!

O, cruel, bitter fate!

Do not sigh, my child.

Pray to the gods and they will hear you.

Neither god nor mortal hears me.

I weep for the slain...

and the exiled one.

She means her brother...

Her brother, Orestes.

True son of a noble father...

Where is he now?

In what land? Under what roof?

If only he were her to behold his sister's plight!

Driven from her father's house...

out into the wilderness...

while our strumpet mother...

sleeps with another man in her bed of crime.

Good women...

If you know my father's grave...

Lead me there...

There let me vent my sorrow.

Sad is the path, every step a tear...

Let our bitter tears sweeten life's woes...

Just as the baby swan...

weeps beside the bank...

wailing for its father,

trapped in the hunter's net...

so I weep for you, my father.

Sweet father...

Can you hear me?

See my hair, shorn for you...

for you I rend my cheeks...

I knew you would be here.

Where is your brother, the brave Orestes?

Is he not here to defend his father's grave?

He will come.

When?

He will rid the earth of you.

He will come!

He will never dare!

He knows I've set a high price on his head.

Orestes...

Pylades! My true friend!

You've come.

As soon as I got your message.

Your slave led me here.

Only you have shared all my grief.

The Oracle has spoken.

I must avenge my father's murder.

How?

I cannot get inside the palace.

So here I stay, by the border...

where no one knows me.

Now I must find my sister.

I heard she is married and lives far from the palace.

She will tell me all and perhaps...

agree to help me.

The sun will soon be up.

Let us head for the village.

Some shepherd may tell us what we need to know.

Why do you toil for me...

when your heart is so heavy?

You are a friend in evil days.

To help you gives me plealsure.

Leave the house to me.

A working man deserves a well-kept home.

So be it. It's not far to the spring.

And I will go and plough.

A woman with a pitcher!

Her cropped hair...

shows she is a slave.

Shall we ask her?

No. We must find someone who's more likely to know.

She must be at the spring.

Like a fawn in the forest...

You will lead the dance...

Gathering armfuls...

of flowers and smiles.

A mountain-man has come from Mycenae...

to ask us all to the fair.

It's time for our sparkling dresses.

No joy for me in singing and dancing.

We will lend you our clothes...

bracelets and necklaces...

And your beauty will dazzle the sun.

I will never dance again with the maidens of Argos.

Hide me.

Two men are lurking by your house.

Aegisthus' men... I fear for my life.

Do not be afraid. We are friends.

One of you lives here...

Her name is Electra.

I swear I will not harm her.

I know her brother.

Wait!

I bring you news... of your brother.

Is he alive?

Or dead?

He is alive.

May the gods bless you for those words.

Your brother... shares that blessing.

Where is he? Far away?

He suffers in many lands.

Has he enough to eat?

Yes.

But there is no joy in exile.

What message do you bring me?

He wants to know about you.

Look at me. Ask no more...

I look. And I weep for you.

Why do you live...

so far from the palace?

Because of my ill-starred marriage.

Now it's for your brother I weep. Whom did you marry?

Not one my father would have chosen.

A poor man - but a good man.

He respects me.

Respects you? How?

He has never touched me.

Why? Some vow perhaps?

He says Aegisthus forced me into this marriage.

Perhaps he fears Orestes.

He honours Orestes.

How could your own mother agree to this?

Women care only for their men.

Why should Aegisthus humble you so?

So that my children should be humble.

And now grow into avengers?

He lives in dread of vengeance.

Do they know you are still a virgin?

I have kept it a secret.

Our words are safe with them.

If Orestes were here...

to see you now!

Even if he were...

I would not know him.

Let me hear...

the harshest truth... to tell your brother...

that it may steel his heart.

Then tell him this...

His mother lives enthroned in spoils.

Her every whim indulged by Trojan slaves.

She cast me out like a mangy dog.

Me! Her own daughter.

Tell him I have to fetch water from the spring...

dressed in these rags...

these filthy tatters...

ashamed to call myself a woman.

And tell him too about the murderer...

riding in the dead king's chariot...

brazenly holding my father's sceptre!

They lefl: his body out there for the vultures to eat.

And for his wretched grave...

never an offering, never a branch of myrtle...

That sneering, drunken lecher...

my mother's precious husband...

reviles the grave and raving shrieks:

"Where is Orestes?"

"Will he never come back?"

Tell him all this. The proof is here...

in my hands...

my tormented mind...

in my cropped head...

When Orestes comes...

what must he do?

The question shames you, stranger.

He has to kill the murderers?

Yes. Dare what they dared.

His mother? And your mother too?

Her too.

Will you help him?

As she helped Aegisthus...

With an axe!

Your husband is coming home.

Gods! This is your husband?

Who are these strangers?

What do they want?

Young women shouldn't talk to strangers.

No need to fret about her.

They bring news of Orestes.

Do not take offence.

What news? Is he alive?

And why are they here?

To see for themselves...

What their eyes can't see her tongue will tell.

They are welcome to our house.

My home is yours, for your good tidings.

This is a simple man.

Not one of the great in Argos...

yet he stands high among our people.

True nobility is often hard to tell.

I have known princes with worthless sons...

and noble sons from humble stock.

I have known meanness in the richest men...

and generosity in the poorest.

Come in.

It is an honour to welcome the friends of friends.

Your greeting is worthy of Agamemnon's son...

absent or not.

A poor man should not receive such lordly guests.

Good men grasp the will and not the deed.

Quick then! To my father's old tutor.

He tends his flocks in the valley.

Bid him bring what food he can.

He will rejoice to know the child he saved still lives.

Meanwhile, look to our guests.

Offer them all we have.

And you, friends, lend her a hand.

There in the bay of Nauplia...

A warrior back from Troy.

Sang the wonders of the shield...

of fleet-footed Achilles.

On it the winged horses of the sun blazed forth.

And round them swirled unnumbered stars.

This shield it was...

and Agamemnon's golden sword...

which struck dark dread into the heart of Hector.

Under his flying spear...

horses leapt forth...

raising clouds of dust.

This was the warrior she struck down.

Leader of all the Greeks, her husband!

Where is the daughter of Agamemnon...

whom I tended as a boy?

A steep climb for old bones.

Is it you, my child?

I bring a new-born lamb, fresh cheese...

and my oldest wine.

Give them to your guests.

I will sit down here...

and dry my tears...

with these rags.

Why do you weep, old friend?

When I passed your father's grave...

I could not help but stop...

and mourn awhile.

On the tomb lay myrtle branches...

and a lock of golden hair.

Who dared leave them there?

Surely, no man of Argos...

Then I thought, his son perhaps...

had stolen across the border...

to deck his unhallowed grave.

These are wild words, old man.

My brother is fearless!

He will not return in stealth.

I long to hear about Orestes.

Guide me to the strangers.

Age has dimmed my eyes.

I greet you, strangers.

Greetings, old one.

This was my father's tutor.

Then it was he who saved your brother!

None else.

What is he groping for?

I wonder too.

Pray to the gods, my child.

Be ready for a boon beyond dreams.

Old man, your words are straying...

Straying? When I behold your brother?

My brother...?

Orestes, Agamemnon's son.

Proof! Give me proof!

The scar behind his ear...

when he fell hunting a fawn.

I remember...

And he bears his father's sword.

The day has come!

The day has come at last!

Like the banished sun he returns...

He returns to scatter the clouds.

At last!

The gods!

At last the gods have smiled!

Old man, I need your counsel.

Have we any friends left in Argos?

Who can I turn to? And where?

A man has no friends in adversity.

Count only on luck and your own strong arm.

What must be done?

You must kill them both.

I know.

How?

There is a way...

speak!

Today is the feast of the wine-treading...

Aegisthus will sacrifice to Bacchus.

The revels will last till daybreak.

Where?

Over in the vineyards.

Will there be many there?

Himself, his slaves and the harvesters.

If I win, will they follow me!

When they know who you are they will!

How shall I draw near?

First, dispel his fears.

Then he will bid you to his table.

The rest is in your hands alone.

Will my mother be there?

She shuns being seen with him. The people abhor her.

She will drive there at dawn.

Then how shall they both be slain?

Leave her to me.

The day is dying fast. It's time to go.

Who will guide me?

I will.

When this is done, go to Clytemnestra...

- Tell her... - What shall I tell her?

That I have given birth to a son.

What do you hope to gain by that?

It will make her stop on her way.

You hope to stir her heart?

A son's birth would stir it.

Even so...

Let her come. She will never leave.

The hour draws near.

O Zeus... avenger of my enemies...

Look kindly on our wrongs.

Help us!

Befriend us, for our cause is just.

Let them avenge their father's murder.

And you, father, under the cold earth...

and you, O Earth, our mother...

Strengthen your children now...

Summon the dead to our help.

All those who fought beside you...

And all who scorn evil deeds.

Can you hear, our slaughtered father?

He hears. We must go.

Be brave!

Death to Aegisthus!

If he should fail it is death for us both.

The king!

Who are you, strangers?

Where are you from?

We are from Thessaly...

bound for Alpheios on a pilgrimage.

I sacrifice to the god tonight.

Be my guests and tomorrow godspeed on your way.

It would be an affront to refuse.

To Bacchus may we drink for many a year.

May he bring us joy...

and misery to our foes.

They say the Thessalians are skilled carvers.

Take the knife.

Show us.

We will see who carves best.

Come! Quickly!

What now?

Cries in the valley like distant thunder.

The wind brings them nearer.

I hear them too.

Whose voices are they?

In the turmoil who can tell?

It bodes no good.

All is lost. Lost!

Wait!

They will not seize me alive.

Wait till we hear the truth.

A king's murder is no small thing.

Women of Argos!

Orestes has won! Let his friends rejoice!

Aegisthus is dead?

Dead - and gone for ever.

All-watching justice of the gods...

You have come at last!

When the king fell...

his guards seized their spears.

But, tough alone...

Orestes and Pylades stood fast.

Then Orestes spoke.

"I come to sever your bonds and to avenge my father."

They heard and lowered their spears.

An old palace slave remembered him.

They crowned his head with a laurel wreath.

The palace sleeps on unaware and a new king reigns.

He will bring the spoils of his triumph.

O, earth...

And you, O darkness...

Let light stream forth!

Let my eyes feast on freedom!

Garlands of myrtle for his hair.

The kings are back on their thrones.

Singing and laughter ring through the land.

Brave Orestes, take this wreath to crown your victory...

won in no vain stadium...

but over a deadly foe.

And you good Pylades...

accept this wreath.

For our victory...

honour the gods, and only then, my deed.

Here is his body. Do with it what you will.

Your master is now your slave.

What troubles you?

I would speak but dare not.

What is there to fear?

Blame for reviling the dead.

Nobody will blame you.

The country is rife with discord.

He was hated by all.

Speak then.

Day after day...

I repeated the words I would shout to his face.

Vile murderer!

You who plunged us into direst misery.

Answer! Speak! What was the wrong we did?

Coward!

While others fought...

you wallowed in adulterous beds...

vainly believing that a woman who betrays her husband...

can be true to you or any man.

You and my mother knew...

that your marriage was unnatural.

You lived like criminals together...

shackled by mutual deceit.

People whispered as you passed. "There is Clytemnestra's pet."

"She is the man "and he her hireling fancy."

But you felt no shame...

at being a woman's plaything.

Puffed up like a peacock...

preening like a whore.

No brains but for revels and for women.

No eyes but for ensnaring them.

Fop!

You never paused to think...

that fortunes change...

that in calamity, a man's reputation is his only stay.

Away with you, hollow fool.

You died as you lived, without honour.

She is coming.

Our mother?

Is this a sign of pity?

How can I kill the one who gave me birth?

Just as she killed your father.

Here she comes...

in all her splendour!

How could any god demand so bloody a deed?

Who are we to doubt their wisdom?

To steep my hands in my mother's blood...

Avenge your father or the gods will curse you!

What if a demon spoke through the oracle?

From the sacred tripod?

No, my brother.

Ours is a dreadful fate.

Wait here.

If you must think, think this...

She killed him with Aegisthus' hand.

Help me down.

These Trojan maids are always at my side.

A recompense, however small...

for Iphigenia, my lost daughter.

I will help her down.

Do I soil your royal hands?

Do not tire yourself. Leave it to the slaves.

Why? Am I not a slave too?

Like them... uprooted?

Must we have words again?

Did you not cast me out?

A woman's nature drips poison on her tongue...

when flouted before strangers.

But I will speak gently...

And having done, let these good women...

hate me if they must.

So I begin.

I agreed to marry Agamemnon...

not to see my children die.

Yet he, luring to Aulis our sweet Iphigenia...

to wed the great Achilles...

he threw her across an altar there...

and severed her maiden throat.

Were it to save his country or his children...

I might have forgiven him.

But why should my child pay for Helen's folly?

Had Menelaus been captured...

should I have killed Orestes to set Menelaus free?

Would your father have agreed?

But there is more...

He brought Cassandra back with him from Troy...

and expected me to share their bed.

When women are unfaithful...

they are condemned whatever their excuse.

Men, never.

Why should I alone suffer and not he?

I killed him.

To do it there was but one way.

I sided with his foes.

What friend of his would help me?

She speaks the truth but how vile a truth.

Wise is the woman who bows before her husband.

Now, if you wish to speak, you may...

without fear.

Prove me wrong, if you can.

Speak without fear, mother?

Need I say it again?

You would not punish me?

I am ready to listen.

What a pity"-

so great a beauty hides so small a brain!

You use Iphigenia's death to absolve you of all your sins.

You forget how well I know you.

The moment your husband left...

before there was any talk of sacrifice...

you lived before the mirror, decking and painting yourself.

No decent woman...

parades her beauty while her husband is away.

Enough!

You said you would listen.

Speak!

Speak and have done!

When the Trojans were winning...

you alone, of all Greek women, smiled...

When the faltered, the smile would fade.

Better Greece lost than Agamemnon home.

Why, if he killed his daughter...

should you torment your other children?

You stole our heritage and gave it to your lover.

My sister was dead. Why did you bury me alive?

If, as you say...

blood must be paid in blood...

do you not fear...

your turn will come?

My daughter...

I know you loved your father better than me.

So I forgive you.

I know not all my deeds were good...

whatever I may say.

It pains me to see you up so soon and so illkempt.

My poor child.

What have I done?

Your pity comes too late.

Why did you let your husband...

taunt me all these years?

He has a temper but you provoke him too.

Because I am full of pain.

But soon it will be gone.

Then you will see how gentle he can be.

Will he stoop to kindness?

You see? You are off again!

I will say no more.

I fear him still.

Now tell me why am I here?

On the tenth day after childbirth...

an offering must be made to the gods.

Knowing nothing of these rites, I sent for you.

This is a midwife's task.

I gave birth by myself.

Where were your friends?

The poor have no friends.

Then I will come and pray the gods for your child's fortune.

Our house is poor. Do you not mind?

If you prefer, you may go and fetch the child.

We will hold the rite out here.

What? Now?

My husband is waiting.

You have caused enough delay already...

I see there is no time... you must come in...

Everything is ready for the sacrifice.

Mother!

Be careful of your veils. The walls are dirty with soot.

The hour of reckoning has come.

I'll winds blow across the land.

Like the time they murdered...

our good king Agamemnon...

and the stones cracked open...

Her own children are killing her!

O, Earth! O, Zeus!

Look on this hateful murder!

Hateful, hateful...

My mother, by my own hand slaughtered...

And I am to blame.

My hate, like a raging, scorching flame...

destroyed my mother.

My brother!

Why does Apollo hound me?

Why does he banish me from Greece forever?

Where shall I go?

And I, the cause, where shall I go?

What friend, what man...

will ever look at me again?

And I...

what man will lead me to a bridal bed?

Did you see...

how she knelt...

and clasped my knees...

lifting her hand...

as if to stroke my cheek.

I nearly dropped the knife.

Instead, I closed my eyes and struck.

And I was there to help you.

I held the knife with you.

Cover her body.

Bury her wounds beneath her veils.

You who were dear and hated...

rest under these veils.

There never was, nor ever will be...

a royal house more noble and more wretched.