KASSANDRA.

Well then, the oracle from veils no longer

Shall be outlooking, like a bride new-married:

But bright it seems, against the sun’s uprisings

1180

Breathing, to penetrate thee: so as, wave-like,

To wash against the rays a woe much greater

Than this. I will no longer teach by riddles.

And witness, running with me, that of evils

Done long ago, I nosing track the footstep!

1185

For, this same roof here — never quits a Choros

One-voiced, not well-tuned since no well it utters:

And truly having drunk, to get more courage,

Man’s blood — the Komos keeps within the household

— Hard to be sent outside — of sister Furies:

1190

They hymn their hymn — within the house close sitting —

The first beginning curse: in turn spit forth at

The Brother’s bed, to him who spurned it hostile.

Have I missed aught, or hit I like a bowman?

False prophet am I, — knock at doors, a babbler?

1195

Henceforward witness, swearing now, I know not

By other’s word the old sins of this household!

CHOROS.

And how should oath, bond honourably binding,

Become thy cure? No less I wonder at thee

— That thou, beyond sea reared, a strange-tongued city

1200

Shouldst hit in speaking, just as if thou stood’st by!

KASSANDRA.

Prophet Apollon put me in this office.

CHOROS.

What, even though a god, with longing smitten?

KASSANDRA.

At first, indeed, shame was to me to say this.

CHOROS.

For, more relaxed grows everyone who fares well.

1205

KASSANDRA.

But he was athlete to me — huge grace breathing!

CHOROS.

Well, to the work of children, went ye law’s way?

KASSANDRA.

Having consented, I played false to Loxias.

CHOROS.

Already when the wits inspired possessed of?

KASSANDRA.

Already townsmen all their woes I foretold.

1210

CHOROS.

How wast thou then unhurt by Loxias’ anger?

KASSANDRA.

I no one aught persuaded, when I sinned thus.

CHOROS.

To us, at least, now sooth to say thou seemest.

KASSANDRA.

Halloo, halloo, ah, evils!

Again, straightforward foresight’s fearful labour

1215

Whirls me, distracting with prelusive last-lays!

Behold ye those there, in the household seated, —

Young ones, — of dreams approaching to the figures?

Children, as if they died by their beloveds —

Hands they have filled with flesh, the meal domestic —

1220

Entrails and vitals both, most piteous burthen,

Plain they are holding! — which their father tasted!

For this, I say, plans punishment a certain

Lion ignoble, on the bed that wallows,

House-guard (ah, me!) to the returning master

1225

— Mine, since to bear the slavish yoke behoves me!

The ship’s commander, Ilion ’s desolator,

Knows not what things the tongue of the lewd she-dog

Speaking, outspreading, shiny-souled, in fashion

Of Até hid, will reach to, by ill fortune!

1230

Such things she dares — the female, the male’s slayer!

She is . . . how calling her the hateful bite-beast

May I hit the mark? Some amphisbaina, — Skulla

Housing in rocks, of mariners the mischief,

Revelling Haides’ mother, — curse, no truce with,

1235

Breathing at friends! How piously she shouted,

The all-courageous, as at turn of battle!

She seems to joy at the back-bringing safety!

Of this, too, if I nought persuade, all’s one! Why?

What is to be will come. And soon thou, present,

1240

True prophet all too much wilt pitying style me.

CHOROS.

Thuestes’ feast, indeed, on flesh of children,

I went with, and I shuddered. Fear too holds me

Listing what’s true as life, nowise out-imaged.

KASSANDRA.

I say, thou Agamemnon’s fate shalt look on.

1245

CHOROS.

Speak good words, O unhappy! Set mouth sleeping!

KASSANDRA.

But Paian stands in no stead to the speech here.

CHOROS.

Nay, if the thing be near: but never be it!

KASSANDRA.

Thou, indeed, prayest: they to kill are busy.

CHOROS.

Of what man is it ministered, this sorrow?

1250

KASSANDRA.

There again, wide thou look’st of my foretellings.

CHOROS.

For, the fulfiller’s scheme I have not gone with.

KASSANDRA.

And yet too well I know the speech Hellenic.

CHOROS.

For Puthian oracles, thy speech, and hard too.

KASSANDRA

Papai: what fire this! and it comes upon me!

1255

Ototoi, Lukeion Apollon, ah me — me!

She, the two-footed lioness that sleeps with

The wolf, in absence of the generous lion,

Kills me the unhappy one: and as a poison

Brewing, to put my price too in the anger,

1260

She vows, against her mate this weapon whetting

To pay him back the bringing me, with slaughter.

Why keep I then these things to make me laughed at,

Both wands and, round my neck, oracular fillets?

Thee, at least, ere my own fate will I ruin:

1265

Go, to perdition falling! Boons exchange we —

Some other Até in my stead make wealthy!

See there — himself, Apollon stripping from me

The oracular garment! having looked upon me

— Even in these adornments, laughed by friends at,

1270

As good as foes, i’ the balance weighed: and vainly —

For, called crazed stroller, — as I had been gipsy,

Beggar, unhappy, starved to death, — I bore it.

And now the Prophet — prophet me undoing,

Has led away to these so deadly fortunes!

1275

Instead of my sire’s altar, waits the hack-block

She struck with first warm bloody sacrificing!

Yet nowise unavenged of gods will death be:

For there shall come another, our avenger,

The mother-slaying scion, father’s doomsman:

1280

Fugitive, wanderer, from this land an exile,

Back shall he come, — for friends, copestone these curses!

For there is sworn a great oath from the gods that

Him shall bring hither his fallen sire’s prostration.

Why make I then, like an indweller, moaning?

1285

Since at the first I foresaw Ilion ’s city

Suffering as it has suffered: and who took it,

Thus by the judgment of the gods are faring.

I go, will suffer, will submit to dying!

But, Haides’ gates — these same I call, I speak to,

1290

And pray that on an opportune blow chancing,

Without a struggle, — blood the calm death bringing

In easy outflow, — I this eye may close up!

CHOROS.

O much unhappy, but, again, much learned

1295

Woman, long hast thou outstretched! But if truly

Thou knowest thine own fate, how comes that, like to

A god-led steer, to altar bold thou treadest?

KASSANDRA.

There’s no avoidance, — strangers, no some time more!

CHOROS.

He last is, anyhow, by time advantaged.

1300

KASSANDRA.

It comes, the day: I shall by flight gain little.

CHOROS.

But know thou patient art from thy brave spirit!

KASSANDRA.

Such things hears no one of the happy-fortuned.

CHOROS.

But gloriously to die — for man is grace, sure.

KASSANDRA.

Ah, sire, for thee and for thy noble children!

1305

CHOROS.

But what thing is it? What fear turns thee backwards?

KASSANDRA.

Alas, alas!

CHOROS.

Why this Alas! if ’t is no spirit’s loathing?

KASSANDRA.

Slaughter blood-dripping does the household smell of!

CHOROS.

How else? This scent is of hearth-sacrifices.

1310

KASSANDRA.

Such kind of steam as from a tomb is proper!

CHOROS.

No Surian honour to the House thou speak’st of!

KASSANDRA.

But I will go, — even in the household wailing

My fate and Agamemnon’s. Life suffice me!

Ah, strangers!

1315

I cry not ah — as bird at bush — through terror

Idly! to me, the dead this much bear witness:

When, for me — woman, there shall die a woman,

And, for a man ill-wived, a man shall perish!

This hospitality I ask as dying.

1320

CHOROS.

O sufferer, thee — thy foretold fate I pity.

KASSANDRA.

Yet once for all, to speak a speech, I fain am:

No dirge, mine for myself! The sun I pray to,

Fronting his last light! — to my own avengers —

That from my hateful slayers they exact too

1325

Pay for the dead slave — easy-managed hand’s work!

CHOROS.

Alas for mortal matters! Happy-fortuned, —

Why, any shade would turn them: if unhappy,

By throws the wetting sponge has spoiled the picture!

And more by much in mortals this I pity.

The being well-to-do —

Insatiate a desire of this

Born with all mortals is,

Nor any is there who

Well-being forces off, aroints

From roofs whereat a finger points,

No more come in! exclaiming. This man, too,

To take the city of Priamos did the celestials give,

1335

And, honoured by the god, he homeward comes;

But now if, of the former, he shall pay

The blood back, and, for those who ceased to live,

Dying, for deaths in turn new punishment he dooms—

1340

Who, being mortal, would not pray

With an unmischievous

Daimon to have been born — who would not, hearing thus?

AGAMEMNON.

Ah me! I am struck — a right-aimed stroke within me!

CHOROS.

Silence! Who is it shouts stroke — right-aimedly a wounded one?

AGAMEMNON.

Ah me! indeed again, — a second, struck by!

1345

CHOROS.

This work seems to me completed by this Ah me of the king’s;

But we somehow may together share in solid counsellings.

CHOROS 1.

I, in the first place, my opinion tell you:

— To cite the townsmen, by help-cry, to house here.

CHOROS 2.

To me, it seems we ought to fall upon them

1350

At quickest — prove the fact by sword fresh-flowing!

CHOROS 3.

And I, of such opinion the partaker,

Vote — to do something: not to wait — the main point!

CHOROS 4.

’T is plain to see: for they prelude as though of

A tyranny the signs they gave the city.

1355

CHOROS 5.

For we waste time; while they, — this waiting’s glory

Treading to ground, — allow the hand no slumber.

CHOROS 6.

I know not — chancing on some plan — to tell it:

’T is for the doer to plan of the deed also.

CHOROS 7.

And I am such another: since I’m schemeless

1360

How to raise up again by words — a dead man!

CHOROS 8.

What, and, protracting life, shall we give way thus

To the disgracers of our home, these rulers?

CHOROS 9.

Why, ’t is unbearable: but to die is better:

For death than tyranny is the riper finish!

1365

CHOROS 10.

What, by the testifying Ah me of him,

Shall we prognosticate the man as perished?

CHOROS 11.

We must quite know ere speak these things concerning:

For to conjecture and quite know are two things.

CHOROS 12.

This same to praise I from all sides abound in —

1370

Clearly to know — Atreides, what he’s doing!

KLUTAIMNESTRA.

Much having been before to purpose spoken,

The opposite to say I shall not shamed be:

For how should one, to enemies, — in semblance,

Friends, — enmity proposing, — sorrow’s net-frame

1375

Enclose, a height superior to outleaping?

To me, indeed, this struggle of old — not mindless

Of an old victory — came: with time, I grant you!

I stand where I have struck, things once accomplished:

And so have done, — and this deny I shall not, —

1380

As that his fate was nor to fly nor ward off.

A wrap-round with no outlet, as for fishes,

I fence about him — the rich woe of the garment:

I strike him twice, and in a double Ah-me!

He let his limbs go — there! And to him, fallen,

1385

The third blow add I, giving — of Below-ground

Zeus, guardian of the dead — the votive favour.

Thus in the mind of him he rages, falling,

And blowing forth a brisk blood-spatter, strikes me

With the dark drop of slaughterous dew — rejoicing

1390

No less than, at the god-given dewy-comfort,

The sown-stuff in its birth-throes from the calyx.

Since so these things are, — Argives, my revered here, —

Ye may rejoice — if ye rejoice: but I — boast!

If it were fit on corpse to pour libation,

1395

That would be right — right over and above, too!

The cup of evils in the house he, having

Filled with such curses, himself coming drinks of.

CHOROS.

We wonder at thy tongue: since bold-mouthed truly

Is she who in such speech boasts o’er her husband I

1400

KLUTAIMNESTRA.

Ye test me as I were a witless woman:

But I — with heart intrepid — to you knowers

Say (and thou — if thou wilt or praise or blame me,

Comes to the same) — this man is Agamemnon,

My husband, dead, the work of the right hand here,

1405

Ay, of a just artificer: so things are.

CASSANDRE

Il luttait pour m'avoir, tout embrasé d'amour.

LE CORYPHÉE

Et, tout comme les autres, vous fîtes œuvre de chair ?

CASSANDRE

Je promis à Loxias et trahis mon serment.

LE CORYPHÉE

Possédais-tu déjà l'art qui t'inspire ici ?

CASSANDRE

Je prédisais déjà ses maux à ma patrie.

LE CORYPHÉE

Quoi ? le courroux du dieu ne te punit donc pas ?

CASSANDRE

Dès que je l'eus trompé, personne ne me crut.

LE CORYPHÉE

Tes oracles pour nous ne sont que trop croyables !

CASSANDRE

Hélas ! hélas ! ah ! ah ! misères ! de nouveau le travail prophétique, terrible, me fait tourner sur moi-même et m'affole de son (horrible) refrain ! — Voyez ces jeunes hommes assis près du palais, pareils aux formes des songes : on dirait des enfants tués par des parents ; les
mains pleines de chairs — leur corps même offert en pâture ! — ils portent une pitoyable charge et d'entrailles et de viscères, qu'un père approcha de sa bouche ! Voilà, je vous le déclare, ce dont quelqu'un médite la vengeance, un lion ¹ — mais un lion lâche qui reste à la maison et, vautré dans
le lit, las ! y attend le retour du maître — mon maître, puisqu'il me faut porter un joug d'esclave. Et le chef de la flotte, le destructeur de Troie ne sait pas ce que l'odieuse chienne, dont la voix longuement dit et redit l'allégresse,
sournoise puissance de mort, lui prépare pour son malheur ! Telle est son effronterie ! Femelle tueuse du mâle, je vois en elle... De quel monstre odieux ² — dragon à deux têtes, Skylla gîtée dans les rochers, fléau des marins — devrai-je emprunter le nom pour donner celui qu'elle
mérite à cette mère en furie, sortie de l'Enfer, qui contre

CASSANDRE

tous les siens ne respire que guère sans trêve. Ah ! le cri de triomphe qu'elle a poussé, la scélérate : le cri du guerrier devant la déroute ennemie ! Et l'on s'imagine qu'elle exprime ainsi la joie d'un heureux retour ! — Mais, croyez-
moi ou non, peu m'importe ! ce qui doit être sera, et toi, qui bientôt vas en être témoin, plein de pitié, tu diras que j'étais trop véridique prophétesse.

LE CORYPHÉE

Tu as parlé

CHORUS.

Did the God feel the force of young deſire?

1345

In each gay breast ease fans the wanton flame.

CASSANDRA.

With all the fervor of impatient love

He ſtrove to gratify my utmoſt wiſh.

CHORUS.

And didſt thou liſten to his tempting lures?

CASSANDRA.

Firſt I aſſented, then deceiv’d the God,

1350

CHORUS.

Waſt thou then fraught with these prophetic arts?

CASSANDRA.

E’en then I told my country all its woes:

CHORUS.

The anger of the God fell heavy on thee?

CASSANDRA.

My voice, for this offence, loſt all perſuaſion.

CHORUS.

To us it ſeems a voice of truth divine.

1355

CASSANDRA.

Woe, woe is me! Again the furious pow’r

Swells in my lab’ring breast; again commands

My bursting voice; and what I ſpeak is Fate.—

Look, look, behold those children. — There they ſit;

Such are the forms, that in the troubled night

1360

Diſtract our ſleep. — By a friend’s hands they died:

Are these the ties of blood?—See, in their hands

Their mangled limbs, horrid repaſt, they bear:

Th' invited father ſhares th’ accurſed feaſt.

CASSANDRA.

For this the ſluggard ſavage, that at ease

1365

Rolls on his bed, nor rouſes from his lair,

’Gainſt my returning lord, for I must wear

The yoke of ſlavery, plans the dark deſign

Of death.

Ah me! the chieftain of the fleet,

1370

The vanquisher of Troy, but little knows

What the ſmooth tongue of miſchief, filed to words

Of glozing courtesy, with Fate her friend,

Like Ate ranging in the dark can do

Calmly: ſuch deeds a woman dares: ſhe dares

1375

Murder a man.

What ſhall I call this miſchief?

An Amphiſbæna? or a Scylla rather,

That in the vex’d rocks holds her reſidence,

And meditates the mariner’s deſtruction?

1380

Mother of Hell, ’midſt friends enkindling diſcord

And hate implacable!

With dreadful daring

How did ſhe ſhout, as if the battle ſwerv’d?

Yet with feign’d joy ſhe welcomes his return.—

1385

These words may want perſuaſion. What of that?

What must come, will come and e’er long with grief

Thou ſhalt conſeſs my prophecies are true.

CHORUS.

CORIFEO

Colpito anch'ei, sebbene Iddio, d'amore?

CASSANDRA

Fu tempo che pudore erami dirlo.

CORIFEO

S'accoppia orgoglio alla felice sorte.

1400

CASSANDRA

Tutto spirando grazia ei mi tentava.

CORIFEO

E giungeste, come usa, a crear parvoli?

CASSANDRA

Promisi al Nume ambiguo; e non mantenni.

CORIFEO

Eri dalla divina arte già invasa?

CASSANDRA

Già predicevo ai cittadini i mali.

1405

CORIFEO

Dallo sdegno d'Apollo illesa fosti?

CASSANDRA

Niuno, poi ch' io mentii, convinsi in nulla.

CORIFEO

Pur vere cose a noi, sembra, predici.

CASSANDRA

Ahimè, ahimè! Ahi, sciagura, sciagura!

Terribile entro me di nuovo turbina

1410

il travaglio fatidico, mi squassa

coi suoi preludî lugubri.

Vedete

seduti entro la casa quei fanciulli

pari a larve di sogni? Figli sono,

1415

figli trafitti dai lor cari. Tendono,

CASSANDRA

colme le mani, i visceri e l' entragne,

misero peso, orrido pasto! Il padre

loro ne gusta.

Alcuno, io vel predíco,

1420

la lor vendetta medita: un imbelle

domestico leone, che s' avvoltula

entro nei letti, contro il signor mio:

ché d'un signore il giogo anch'io sopporto.

Dei legni il condottier, quegli che strusse

1425

Ilio, non sa che danni gli apparecchi,

ilare in cuore, con funerea sorte,

pari ad Ate invincibile, con lunga

ciancia, la lingua d'odiosa cagna!

Tanto osa! Una virago uccide un uomo.

1430

Con quale nome d' aborrito mostro

ben potrei designarla? Anfesibena ?

Scilla annidata fra gli scogli, a eccidio

dei navichieri? Dèmone d'Averno,

che sugli amici, dalle fauci, spira

1435

guerra implacata ?

Ah, tracotante! Come

ululò! Come su nemica fuga!

E pareva gioir che salvo fosse

lo sposo !

1440

Oh!, bene uguale è che mi credano

o no! L'evento appressa già. Pei fatti

presto vedrai se di sciagure io sono

profetessa verace. E avrai pietà.

CORIFEO

Chor.

1150 Woher befiel dich

die bitt're Qual

der göttlichen Gabe?

Du weißt zu singen,

1215

was Schauder weckt.

Singst es mit schrillem Schrei,

singst es mit vollem Ton,

sage, woher du die Künste

1155 der Seherkraft empfingst.

1220

Kassandra.

Paris, o Paris,

deine Vermählung

stürzte die Deinen.

Strom meiner Heimat,

heil'ger Skamandros,

1225

einst an deinen Gestaden

wuchs und gedieh ich.

1160 Jetzt werd' ich meine Sprüche bald, ich weiß es wohl,

am Acheron und am Kokytos singen.

Chor.

Wie kommst du zu diesem so deutlichen Wort?

1230

Ein Kind kann es verstehn.

1165 Dein bitteres Los, daß du wimmernd beweinst,

trifft mich wie Schlangenbiß.

Ich hör' und schaud're.

Kassandra.

Troia, o Troia,

1235

bist nun zerschlagen,

gänzlich vernichtet,

und Hekatomben

schlachtete reichlich

Kassandra.

für die Feste der Vater,

1240

1170 aber vergeblich.

Chorus.

God though he were, yearning for mortal maid?

Cassandra.

Ay! what seemed shame of old is shame no more.

Chorus.

Such finer sense suits not with slavery.

Cassandra.

He strove to win me, panting for my love.

1390

Chorus.

Came ye by compact unto bridal joys?

Cassandra.

Nay—for I plighted troth, then foiled the god.

Chorus.

Wert thou already dowered with prescience?

Cassandra.

Yea—prophetess to Troy of all her doom.

Chorus.

How left thee then Apollo's wrath unscathed?

1395

Cassandra.

I, false to him, seemed prophet false to all.

Chorus.

Not so—to us at least thy words seem sooth.

Cassandra.

Woe for me, woe! Again the agony—

Dread pain that sees the future all too well

With ghastly preludes whirls and racks my soul.

1400

Behold ye—yonder on the palace roof

The spectre-children sitting—look, such things

As dreams are made of, phantoms as of babes,

Horrible shadows, that a kinsman's hand

Hath marked with murder, and their arms are full—

1405

A rueful burden—see, they hold them up,

The entrails upon which their father fed!

For this, for this, I say there plots revenge

A coward lion, couching in the lair—

Guarding the gate against my master's foot—

1410

My master—mine—I bear the slave's yoke now.

And he, the lord of ships, who trod down Troy,

Knows not the fawning treachery of tongue

Of this thing false and dog-like—how her speech

Glozes and sleeks her purpose, till she win

1415

By ill fate's favour the desirèd chance,

Moving like Atè to a secret end.

O aweless soul! the woman slays her lord—

Woman? what loathsome monster of the earth

Were fit comparison? The double snake—

1420

Or Scylla, where she dwells, the seaman's bane,

Girt round about with rocks? some hag of hell,

Raving a truceless curse upon her kin?

Hark—even now she cries exultingly

The vengeful cry that tells of battle turned—

1425

How fain, forsooth, to greet her chief restored!

Nay then, believe me not: what skills belief

Or disbelief? Fate works its will—and thou

Wilt see and say in ruth Her tale was true.

Chorus.

Der Chorführer.

Von Liebessehnen übermannt, obwohl ein Gott?

Kassandra.

Dies auszusprechen wehrte mir bisher die Scham.

Der Chorführer.

Zu zartgewöhnt ist Jeder, der im Glücke wohnt.

Kassandra.

Er, ganz entbrannt von Liebe, rang um meine Gunst.

Der Chorführer.

Genoßt ihr auch der Liebe, wie's die Sitte will?

1155

Kassandra.

Verheißen hatt' ich's und betrog den Loxias.

Der Chorführer.

Da schon der gotterfüllte Geist dein Herz besaß?

Kassandra.

Schon that ich Troja's Bürgern all' ihr Leiden kund.

Der Chorführer.

Wie? Lief dich Phöbos ungestraft in seinem Zorn?

Kassandra.

Mir schenkte Niemand Glauben, weil ich so gefehlt.

1160

Der Chorführer.

Uns, traun, erscheint glaubwürdig, was dein Mund enthüllt.

Kassandra.

O Grau'n, o Grau'n! Ach, ach, o Schmerz!

Wie treibt mich wieder grause Wuth des Seherflugs

Umher in jähem Wirbel unheilvollen Lauts!

Ha, seht ihr jene Kleinen dort am Königshaus

1165

Gelagert, eitler Träume Nachtgestalten gleich?

Es scheinen Knaben, die des Freundes Arm erschlug:

Das Mahl vom eignen Fleische füllt die kleine Hand;

Sie tragen selbst (o grause, jammervolle Last!)

Ihr Herz und Eingeweide, das der Vater af.

1170

Darüber sinnt auf Rache, so verkünd' ich euch,

Ein feiger Löwe, welcher frech im Bett sich wälzt,

Im Hause lauernd auf den Heimgekehrten, ach!

Auf meinen Herrn: denn tragen muß ich Sklavenjoch!

Der Schiffe König, Ilions Eroberer,

1175

Nicht ahnt er, welches Schicksal ihm das Zungenspiel

Der allverhaften Hündin, die voll Gleißnerei

Ausspann die langen Neden, bald zu bösem Gruß,

Der schlauverborgnen Ate gleich, vollenden wird.

Und solchen Frevel wagt ein Weib, wird Mörderin

1180

Des Mann's! O welches Ungethümes Name ziemt

Der Argen? Nenn' ich Natter, nenn' ich Skylla fie,

Die tief in Felsenschlünden haust, der Schiffer Fluch,

Wuthvolle Todesmutter, die sühnlosen Mord

Zuschnaubt den Freunden? Wie sie hell aufjubelte,

1185

Die Allverwegne, wie im Siegesruf der Schlacht!

Sie heuchelt Freude, daß er glücklich heimgekehrt!

Und ob man hier auch Glauben mir versage, - sei's!

Sie naht, die Zukunft. Zeuge wirst du selbst sofort,

Und nennst mich jammernd allzuwahre Seherin.

1190

Der Chorführer.