Euripides, Orestes, ed. Gilbert Murray, 153

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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

Orestes. Euripides. ed. Gilbert Murray. Oxford. 1913.

Sponsored by Perseus Project, Tufts University.

Funding provided by The Annenberg CPB/Project.

Current edition Perseus

Ὀρέστης (Greek) (Euripides. Euripidis Fabulae, Vol. III. Murray, Gilbert, editor. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1913. (Reprinted 1920-1978))

Translations (3)

Orestes Perseus (Euripides. The Plays of Euripides, Vol. II. Coleridge, Edward P., translator. London: George Bell and Sons, 1891. (Modernized by Perseus.)) — 153 focus

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

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

German (J. J. C. Donner, 1841; OCR review) (OCR draft) Experimental (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.) — 153 focus

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.

Euripides Orestes 153

ed. Gilbert Murray

Search the Perseus Catalog for:

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

Current edition Perseus

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

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.

Stable identifiers

Search the Perseus Catalog for:

Search the Perseus Catalog for:

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

Current edition Perseus

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

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.

Stable identifiers

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

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

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.