The heroes of this tragedy are two evil czars from the city of Argos, Atreus and Fiest. The son of this Atreus was the famous leader of the Greeks in the Trojan War Agamemnon – the one killed by his wife Clytemnestra, and her son, Orestes, killed her for this (and Aeschylus wrote about this his “Oresteia”). When the Greeks asked what the horrors were for, they replied: “For the sins of their ancestors.” The sequence of these sins began a long time ago.
The first sinner was Tantalus, the mighty king of Asia Minor. The gods themselves came down from heaven to feast in his palace. But Tantalus turned out to be a wicked man: he did not believe that the gods were omniscient, and decided to test them with a terrible test. He stabbed his son Pelopa, cooked in
The second sinner was the same Pelop, the son of Tantalus. From Asia Minor he came to South Greece and repulsed her from the evil king, who forced the aliens to compete with him in a chariot race, and killed the vanquished. Pelop defeated him by cunning: he bribed the royal driver, he took out the bushing, which held the wheel on the axis, the chariot crashed, and the king perished. But PeloP wanted to hide his cunning; instead of reward, he pushed the royal driver into the sea, and he, falling, cursed for the treachery of Pelop and all his descendants.
In the third generation, Atreus and Fiestas, the sons of Pelopa, became sinners. They began to argue for power over Argos. In the Pelopa herd there was a golden ram, a sign of royal power; He inherited Atreus, but Fiestas deceived Atreus’ wife and kidnapped the ram. Strife broke out, Fiest was expelled and lived, in poverty, in poverty. The kingdom was given to
The premonition of horrors begins with the first lines. The shadow of Tantalus is from the underworld, it is driven by Erinnia (in Latin – “fury”): “You slaughtered your son for food to the gods – now inspire your grandson to slaughter the sons of another grandson as food for his father!” – “Let me go – it’s better to suffer torture than to be tortured!” – “Do your work: let the sinners under the earth rejoice at their executions, let them know that on earth is more terrible than in hell!” The faceless choir sings of the sins of Tantalus – now they multiply in his offspring.
An uprooted thought comes to Atreya’s head: “A king is worthless, delaying revenge, why am I not yet a criminal?” The evil is waiting between brother and brother – who will first stretch out his hand to him? ” “Kill the fiesta,” says the counselor. “No: death is mercy: I have conceived more.” “What did you think of killing a fiesta?” – “The very fiest!” – “Than lure him into captivity?” – “I’ll wait half a kingdom: for the sake of power itself will come.” – “Are not you afraid of God’s punishment?” – “Let Pelopov’s house collapse on me – just to collapse and my brother.” The choir, looking at it, sings: no, the king is not the one who is rich and powerful! the true king is one who is alien to passions and fears, who is firm and resting in spirit.
Fiestz learned this in exile, but not until the end. He carried the trouble, but did not bear the burden. He knows: “There is no kingdom greater than without the kingdoms to be content!” The villainy in the palaces lives – not in huts “; but in his heart of fear. “What are you afraid of?” the son asks. “In total,” – responds to the fiesta and still goes to Atreus. Atreus comes out to meet him. “I’m glad to see my brother,” he says (and it’s true), “Be king with me!” “Leave me in nothing,” says Fiestus, “Do you renounce happiness?” – “Yes, for I know: happiness is changeable.” “Do not deprive me of the glory of sharing power,” says Atrei, “to be in power is an accident, to give power to valor.” And Fiest is inferior. The choir is glad to the world, but reminds itself: joy is not a long one.
About villainy, as usual, tells the messenger. There is a dark grove dedicated to Pelope, where the trunks groan and ghosts roam; There, at the altar, as sacrificial animals, Atreus slaughtered the fiestal sons – one took his head, another cut his throat, the third pierced his heart. The earth shook, the palace staggered, the black star rolled down from heaven. “Oh God!” exclaims the choir. No, the horror lies ahead: the king cuts through the bodies, the meat boils in the cauldron and hisses on the skewers, the fire does not want to burn beneath them, the smoke of a black cloud hangs over the house. The unafraid fiest feast with his brother and marvels that the piece does not go to his throat, that the stiffened hair stands on end. The choir looks up into the sky, where the Sun has turned back halfway, the darkness rises from the horizon – is not this the end of the world, will the world mix in the new Chaos?
Atreus triumphs: “It is a pity that there is darkness and that the gods do not see my business – but it’s enough for me that Fiest will see it! Here he drinks the last cup where the blood of his sons is mixed with the wine.” On the platter, the cut-off heads of the Festov children are brought in. “Do you recognize your sons?” “I recognize my brother, Oh, let me at least bury their bodies!” – “They are already buried – in you.” – “Where is my sword, so that I pierce myself?” – “Pierce – and pierce your sons with you.” – “What are the sons guilty of?” “Because you are their father.” – “Where is the measure of evil?” – “There is a measure of crime – there is no measure of retaliation!” – “Rise, gods, with lightning: let I become my funeral pyre for my sons!” “You seduced my wife – you yourself would be the first to kill my children, if you did not think they were yours.” – “