Euripides, Orestes, Johann Jakob Christian Donner (Translator), 153

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Wie denn ist es ihm? Geliebte, sag' es mir.
150

Elektra.

Welch Geschick erwähn' ich, welches Ungemach?

Noch, noch athmet er, noch schwach stohnt er auf.

Chor.

Wie? Was ?

Armer Mann!

Elektra.

Er stirbt, ach, wenn du vom Schlummer ihn

Aufschreckst, der des Schlafs süßeste Wonnen schmeckt.
155

Chor.

Weh um den Frevel dir, welchen der Gott verhängt!

Dunselig Loos!

Elektra.

Frevel, ja, Frevel war's, daß, Gott Phobos, du,

Sizend auf Themis' Thron, zum Unseligsten,

Zum Mord meiner Mutter auffodertest!
160
Strophe 2.

Chor.

Orestes. Euripides. Johann Jakob Christian Donner (Translator). . .

Current edition Experimental

German (J. J. C. Donner, 1841; OCR review) (OCR draft) (German) (Euripides. Deutsch in den Versmaßen der Urschrift. Volume 1, Heidelberg: C. F. Winter, 1841. Harvard OCR compared with an independent BSB copy. Native Donner verse citations, Murray reference cards, explicitly located notes and page facsimiles. Unresolved OCR, verse divisions, unlocated notes and printed errata are documented in the source review.)

Provisional text from uncorrected OCR; expect errors.

Editions (1)

Ὀρέστης Perseus (Euripides. Euripidis Fabulae, Vol. III. Murray, Gilbert, editor. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1913. (Reprinted 1920-1978)) — 140-207 focus

Χορός

σῖγα σῖγα, λεπτὸν ἴχνος ἀρβύλης
140

τίθετε, μὴ κτυπεῖτʼ.

Ἠλέκτρα

ἀποπρὸ βᾶτʼ ἐκεῖσʼ, ἀποπρό μοι κοίτας.

Χορός

ἰδού, πείθομαι.

Ἠλέκτρα

ἆ ἆ σύριγγος ὅπως πνοὰ
145

λεπτοῦ δόνακος, ὦ φίλα, φώνει μοι.

Χορός

ἴδʼ, ἀτρεμαῖον ὡς ὑπόροφον φέρω

βοάν.

Ἠλέκτρα

ναί, οὕτως·

κάταγε κάταγε, πρόσιθʼ ἀτρέμας, ἀτρέμας ἴθι·

λόγον ἀπόδος ἐφʼ ὅ τι χρέος ἐμόλετέ ποτε.
150

χρόνια γὰρ πεσὼν ὅδʼ εὐνάζεται.

153

Χορός

πῶς ἔχει; λόγου μετάδος, ὦ φίλα·

τίνα τύχαν εἴπω; τίνα δὲ συμφοράν;

Ἠλέκτρα

ἔτι μὲν ἐμπνέει, βραχὺ δʼ ἀναστένει.
155

Χορός

τί φῄς; ὦ τάλας.

Ἠλέκτρα

ὀλεῖς, εἰ βλέφαρα κινήσεις

ὕπνου γλυκυτάταν φερομένῳ χάριν.

Χορός

μέλεος ἐχθίστων θεόθεν ἐργμάτων,
160

τάλας.

Ἠλέκτρα

φεῦ μόχθων.

ἄδικος ἄδικα τότʼ ἄρʼ ἔλακεν ἔλακεν, ἀπό-

φονον ὅτʼ ἐπὶ τρίποδι Θέμιδος ἄρʼ ἐδίκασε

φόνον ὁ Λοξίας ἐμᾶς ματέρος.
165

166

Χορός

ὁρᾷς; ἐν πέπλοισι κινεῖ δέμας.

Ἠλέκτρα

σὺ γάρ νιν, ὦ τάλαινα,

θωΰξασʼ ἔβαλες ἐξ ὕπνου.

Χορός

εὕδειν μὲν οὖν ἔδοξα.

Ἠλέκτρα

οὐκ ἀφʼ ἡμῶν, οὐκ ἀπʼ οἴκων
170

πάλιν ἀνὰ πόδα σὸν εἱλίξεις

μεθεμένα κτύπου;

Χορός

ὑπνώσσει.

Ἠλέκτρα

λέγεις εὖ.

πότνια, πότνια νύξ,

ὑπνοδότειρα τῶν πολυπόνων βροτῶν,
175

ἐρεβόθεν ἴθι, μόλε μόλε κατάπτερος

τὸν Ἀγαμεμνόνιον ἐπὶ δόμον.

ὑπὸ γὰρ ἀλγέων ὑπό τε συμφορᾶς
180

διοιχόμεθʼ, οἰχόμεθα. κτύπον ἠγάγετʼ· οὐχὶ σῖγα

σῖγα φυλασσομένα στόματος

ἄνα κέλαδον ἀπὸ λέχεος ἥ-
185

συχον ὕπνου χάριν παρέξεις, φίλα;

187

Χορός

θρόει τίς κακῶν τελευτὰ μένει.

Ἠλέκτρα

θανεῖν θανεῖν, τί δʼ ἄλλο;

οὐδὲ γὰρ πόθον ἔχει βορᾶς.

Χορός

πρόδηλος ἆρʼ ὁ πότμος.
190

Ἠλέκτρα

ἐξέθυσʼ ὁ Φοῖβος ἡμᾶς

μέλεον ἀπόφονον αἷμα δοὺς

πατροφόνου ματρός.

Χορός

δίκᾳ μέν.

Ἠλέκτρα

καλῶς δʼ οὔ.

ἔκανες ἔθανες, ὦ
195

τεκομένα με μᾶτερ, ἀπὸ δʼ ὤλεσας

πατέρα τέκνα τε τάδε σέθεν ἀφʼ αἵματος·

ὀλόμεθʼ ἰσονέκυες, ὀλόμεθα.
200

σύ τε γὰρ ἐν νεκροῖς, τό τʼ ἐμὸν οἴχεται

βίου τὸ πλέον μέρος ἐν στοναχαῖσί τε καὶ γόοισι

δάκρυσί τʼ ἐννυχίοις, ἄγαμος
205

ἐπὶ δʼ ἄτεκνος ἅτε βίοτον ἁ

μέλεος ἐς τὸν αἰὲν ἕλκω χρόνον.

Translations (2)

Orestes Perseus (Euripides. The Plays of Euripides, Vol. II. Coleridge, Edward P., translator. London: George Bell and Sons, 1891. (Modernized by Perseus.)) — 140-205 focus

The Chorus of Argive Maidens enters quietly. The following lines between Electra and the Chorus are chanted responsively.

Chorus

Hush, hush! let your footsteps fall lightly! not a sound!
140

Electra

Go further from his couch, further, I beseech you!

Chorus

There, I obey.

Electra

Ah, ah! Speak like the breath of a slender reed-pipe, my dear, I pray.
145

Chorus

See, how soft and low I drop my voice.

Electra

Yes, do so; approach now, softly, softly!

Give me an account of why you have come here. For at last he has lain down, and sleeps.
150

153

Chorus

How is he? You give us an account, my dear; what has happened, what misfortune?

Electra

He is still breathing, but his moans grow feeble.
155

Chorus

What are you saying? turning to Orestes. Unhappy Orestes!

Electra

You will kill him, if you disturb him from the sweet sleep he now enjoys.

Chorus

Poor sufferer, for his hateful deeds, inspired by a god!
160

Electra

Ah, misery! Injustice it was, after all, from an unjust mouth, when Loxias on the tripod of Themis

decreed my mother’s most unnatural murder.
165

166

Chorus

Do you see? He stirs beneath his robe!

Electra

Alas! Your noisy chatter has roused him from his sleep.

Chorus

No, I think he is asleep.

Electra

Leave us, go away from the house! circle back again! cease this noise!
170

Chorus

He is asleep.

Electra

You are right.¹ O Lady Night,

giver of sleep to hard-working mortals, come from Erebus, come, wing your way to the palace of Agamemnon.
175

For with misery and woe we are lost, we are gone.
180

There! To the Chorus. that noise again! Do be still and keep the sound of your voice

away from his couch; let him enjoy his sleep in peace, my dear!
185

187

Chorus

Tell me, what end of troubles awaits him.

Electra

Death, death; what else? For he has no desire for food.

Chorus

Then his destiny is already clear.
190

Electra

Phoebus offered us up for sacrifice, when he ordered the pitiable, unnatural murder of our mother, who killed our father.

Chorus

It was just.

Electra

But it was not well done.

You killed and were killed, my mother! and you have slain a father and your own children;
195

for we are dead or as good as dead. You are in your grave, and the greater part of my life is spent in weeping and wailing,
200

and tears at night; unmarried, childless, I drag out forever a joyless existence.
205

Orestes (OCR draft) Experimental (Orestes. Robert Potter's English verse translation, first published in 1781–1783; text from the 1808 Oxford printing.)

No corresponding passage available

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Search the Perseus Catalog for:

Wie denn ist es ihm? Geliebte, sag' es mir. 150

Elektra. Welch Geschick erwähn' ich, welches Ungemach? Noch, noch athmet er, noch schwach stohnt er auf.

Chor. Wie? Was ? Armer Mann!

Elektra. Er stirbt, ach, wenn du vom Schlummer ihn Aufschreckst, der des Schlafs süßeste Wonnen schmeckt. 155

Chor. Weh um den Frevel dir, welchen der Gott verhängt! Dunselig Loos!

Elektra. Frevel, ja, Frevel war's, daß, Gott Phobos, du, Sizend auf Themis' Thron, zum Unseligsten, Zum Mord meiner Mutter auffodertest! 160 Strophe 2.

Chor.

Current edition Experimental

Χορός σῖγα σῖγα, λεπτὸν ἴχνος ἀρβύλης 140 τίθετε, μὴ κτυπεῖτʼ.

Ἠλέκτρα ἀποπρὸ βᾶτʼ ἐκεῖσʼ, ἀποπρό μοι κοίτας.

Χορός ἰδού, πείθομαι.

Ἠλέκτρα ἆ ἆ σύριγγος ὅπως πνοὰ 145 λεπτοῦ δόνακος, ὦ φίλα, φώνει μοι.

Χορός ἴδʼ, ἀτρεμαῖον ὡς ὑπόροφον φέρω βοάν.

Ἠλέκτρα ναί, οὕτως· κάταγε κάταγε, πρόσιθʼ ἀτρέμας, ἀτρέμας ἴθι· λόγον ἀπόδος ἐφʼ ὅ τι χρέος ἐμόλετέ ποτε. 150 χρόνια γὰρ πεσὼν ὅδʼ εὐνάζεται.

Χορός πῶς ἔχει; λόγου μετάδος, ὦ φίλα· τίνα τύχαν εἴπω; τίνα δὲ συμφοράν;

Ἠλέκτρα ἔτι μὲν ἐμπνέει, βραχὺ δʼ ἀναστένει. 155

Χορός τί φῄς; ὦ τάλας.

Ἠλέκτρα ὀλεῖς, εἰ βλέφαρα κινήσεις ὕπνου γλυκυτάταν φερομένῳ χάριν.

Χορός μέλεος ἐχθίστων θεόθεν ἐργμάτων, 160 τάλας.

Ἠλέκτρα φεῦ μόχθων. ἄδικος ἄδικα τότʼ ἄρʼ ἔλακεν ἔλακεν, ἀπό- φονον ὅτʼ ἐπὶ τρίποδι Θέμιδος ἄρʼ ἐδίκασε φόνον ὁ Λοξίας ἐμᾶς ματέρος. 165

Χορός ὁρᾷς; ἐν πέπλοισι κινεῖ δέμας.

Ἠλέκτρα σὺ γάρ νιν, ὦ τάλαινα, θωΰξασʼ ἔβαλες ἐξ ὕπνου.

Χορός εὕδειν μὲν οὖν ἔδοξα.

Ἠλέκτρα οὐκ ἀφʼ ἡμῶν, οὐκ ἀπʼ οἴκων 170 πάλιν ἀνὰ πόδα σὸν εἱλίξεις μεθεμένα κτύπου;

Χορός ὑπνώσσει.

Χορός θρόει τίς κακῶν τελευτὰ μένει.

Ἠλέκτρα θανεῖν θανεῖν, τί δʼ ἄλλο; οὐδὲ γὰρ πόθον ἔχει βορᾶς.

Χορός πρόδηλος ἆρʼ ὁ πότμος. 190

Ἠλέκτρα ἐξέθυσʼ ὁ Φοῖβος ἡμᾶς μέλεον ἀπόφονον αἷμα δοὺς πατροφόνου ματρός.

Χορός δίκᾳ μέν.

Chorus Hush, hush! let your footsteps fall lightly! not a sound! 140

Electra Go further from his couch, further, I beseech you!

Chorus There, I obey.

Electra Ah, ah! Speak like the breath of a slender reed-pipe, my dear, I pray. 145

Chorus See, how soft and low I drop my voice.

Electra Yes, do so; approach now, softly, softly! Give me an account of why you have come here. For at last he has lain down, and sleeps. 150

Chorus How is he? You give us an account, my dear; what has happened, what misfortune?

Electra He is still breathing, but his moans grow feeble. 155

Chorus What are you saying? turning to Orestes. Unhappy Orestes!

Electra You will kill him, if you disturb him from the sweet sleep he now enjoys.

Chorus Poor sufferer, for his hateful deeds, inspired by a god! 160

Electra Ah, misery! Injustice it was, after all, from an unjust mouth, when Loxias on the tripod of Themis decreed my mother’s most unnatural murder. 165

Chorus Do you see? He stirs beneath his robe!

Electra Alas! Your noisy chatter has roused him from his sleep.

Chorus No, I think he is asleep.

Electra Leave us, go away from the house! circle back again! cease this noise! 170

Chorus He is asleep.

Chorus Tell me, what end of troubles awaits him.

Electra Death, death; what else? For he has no desire for food.

Chorus Then his destiny is already clear. 190

Electra Phoebus offered us up for sacrifice, when he ordered the pitiable, unnatural murder of our mother, who killed our father.

Chorus It was just.

Stable identifiers

Wie denn ist es ihm? Geliebte, sag' es mir.
150

Elektra.

Welch Geschick erwähn' ich, welches Ungemach?

Noch, noch athmet er, noch schwach stohnt er auf.

Chor.

Wie? Was ?

Armer Mann!

Elektra.

Er stirbt, ach, wenn du vom Schlummer ihn

Aufschreckst, der des Schlafs süßeste Wonnen schmeckt.
155

Chor.

Weh um den Frevel dir, welchen der Gott verhängt!

Dunselig Loos!

Elektra.

Frevel, ja, Frevel war's, daß, Gott Phobos, du,

Sizend auf Themis' Thron, zum Unseligsten,

Zum Mord meiner Mutter auffodertest!
160
Strophe 2.

Χορός

σῖγα σῖγα, λεπτὸν ἴχνος ἀρβύλης
140

τίθετε, μὴ κτυπεῖτʼ.

Ἠλέκτρα

ἀποπρὸ βᾶτʼ ἐκεῖσʼ, ἀποπρό μοι κοίτας.

Χορός

ἰδού, πείθομαι.

Ἠλέκτρα

ἆ ἆ σύριγγος ὅπως πνοὰ
145

λεπτοῦ δόνακος, ὦ φίλα, φώνει μοι.

Χορός

ἴδʼ, ἀτρεμαῖον ὡς ὑπόροφον φέρω

βοάν.

Ἠλέκτρα

ναί, οὕτως·

κάταγε κάταγε, πρόσιθʼ ἀτρέμας, ἀτρέμας ἴθι·

λόγον ἀπόδος ἐφʼ ὅ τι χρέος ἐμόλετέ ποτε.
150

χρόνια γὰρ πεσὼν ὅδʼ εὐνάζεται.

Χορός

πῶς ἔχει; λόγου μετάδος, ὦ φίλα·

τίνα τύχαν εἴπω; τίνα δὲ συμφοράν;

Ἠλέκτρα

ἔτι μὲν ἐμπνέει, βραχὺ δʼ ἀναστένει.
155

Χορός

τί φῄς; ὦ τάλας.

Ἠλέκτρα

ὀλεῖς, εἰ βλέφαρα κινήσεις

ὕπνου γλυκυτάταν φερομένῳ χάριν.

Χορός

μέλεος ἐχθίστων θεόθεν ἐργμάτων,
160

τάλας.

Ἠλέκτρα

φεῦ μόχθων.

ἄδικος ἄδικα τότʼ ἄρʼ ἔλακεν ἔλακεν, ἀπό-

φονον ὅτʼ ἐπὶ τρίποδι Θέμιδος ἄρʼ ἐδίκασε

φόνον ὁ Λοξίας ἐμᾶς ματέρος.
165

Χορός

ὁρᾷς; ἐν πέπλοισι κινεῖ δέμας.

Ἠλέκτρα

σὺ γάρ νιν, ὦ τάλαινα,

θωΰξασʼ ἔβαλες ἐξ ὕπνου.

Χορός

εὕδειν μὲν οὖν ἔδοξα.

Ἠλέκτρα

οὐκ ἀφʼ ἡμῶν, οὐκ ἀπʼ οἴκων
170

πάλιν ἀνὰ πόδα σὸν εἱλίξεις

μεθεμένα κτύπου;

Χορός

ὑπνώσσει.

Χορός

θρόει τίς κακῶν τελευτὰ μένει.

Ἠλέκτρα

θανεῖν θανεῖν, τί δʼ ἄλλο;

οὐδὲ γὰρ πόθον ἔχει βορᾶς.

Χορός

πρόδηλος ἆρʼ ὁ πότμος.
190

Ἠλέκτρα

ἐξέθυσʼ ὁ Φοῖβος ἡμᾶς

μέλεον ἀπόφονον αἷμα δοὺς

πατροφόνου ματρός.

Χορός

δίκᾳ μέν.

Chorus

Hush, hush! let your footsteps fall lightly! not a sound!
140

Electra

Go further from his couch, further, I beseech you!

Chorus

There, I obey.

Electra

Ah, ah! Speak like the breath of a slender reed-pipe, my dear, I pray.
145

Chorus

See, how soft and low I drop my voice.

Electra

Yes, do so; approach now, softly, softly!

Give me an account of why you have come here. For at last he has lain down, and sleeps.
150

Chorus

How is he? You give us an account, my dear; what has happened, what misfortune?

Electra

He is still breathing, but his moans grow feeble.
155

Chorus

What are you saying? turning to Orestes. Unhappy Orestes!

Electra

You will kill him, if you disturb him from the sweet sleep he now enjoys.

Chorus

Poor sufferer, for his hateful deeds, inspired by a god!
160

Electra

Ah, misery! Injustice it was, after all, from an unjust mouth, when Loxias on the tripod of Themis

decreed my mother’s most unnatural murder.
165

Chorus

Do you see? He stirs beneath his robe!

Electra

Alas! Your noisy chatter has roused him from his sleep.

Chorus

No, I think he is asleep.

Electra

Leave us, go away from the house! circle back again! cease this noise!
170

Chorus

He is asleep.

Chorus

Tell me, what end of troubles awaits him.

Electra

Death, death; what else? For he has no desire for food.

Chorus

Then his destiny is already clear.
190

Electra

Phoebus offered us up for sacrifice, when he ordered the pitiable, unnatural murder of our mother, who killed our father.

Chorus

It was just.