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

Je dis que tu verras la mort d'Agamemnon.

LE CORYPHÉE

Ah ! tais-toi, malheureuse ! laisse dormir ta voix !

CASSANDRE

Nul ne saurait guérir les maux que je prédis.

LE CORYPHÉE

S'ils doivent voir le jour ; mais les dieux nous en gardent !

CASSANDRE

Tu peux faire des vœux : eux, préparent le meurtre.

LE CORYPHÉE

Quel homme apprête donc ce sacrilège infâme ?

CASSANDRE

Tu t'égares bien loin du sens de mes oracles.

LE CORYPHÉE

Je ne vois pas comment s'y prendrait l'assassin.

CASSANDRE

Pourtant je sais parler la langue de la Grèce.

LE CORYPHÉE

Loxias aussi : obscurs pourtant sont ses oracles.

CASSANDRE

Ah ! ah ! quel est ce feu ? Et il marche sur moi... Apollon Lykéios, pitié, pitié pour moi ! — C'est elle, la lionne à deux pieds qui dormait avec le loup en
l'absence du noble lion, c'est elle qui va me tuer, malheureuse ! Dans la coupe où elle brasse le poison, elle entend

CASSANDRE

à sa vengeance mélanger aussi mon salaire ¹ : elle prétend, en fourbissant le poignard contre un époux, le punir de mort pour m'avoir amenée ici ! Pourquoi porter dès lors
telle dérision, ce bâton, ces bandelettes fatidiques tombant autour de mon cou ? Ah ! je te détruirai, avant de périr moi-même !

CASSANDRE

Soyez maudits : c'est ma revanche, à moi, de vous voir là, à terre. Allez donc enrichir de malheur une autre que moi ! Regardez ; c'est
Apollon lui-même qui me dépouille ici du manteau des prophètes, mais après s'être plu à me voir copieusement raillée sous cette parure et par mes amis et par mes ennemis, unanimement — et pour rien ! J'ai dû m'entendre appeler : « Vagabonde ! » comme une diseuse de bonne aventure, une pauvre
mendiante affamée. Et voici qu'aujourd'hui le prophète qui m'a fait prophétesse m'a lui-même conduite à ce destin de mort : au lieu de l'autel au palais d'un père, un billot m'attend, empourpré du sang chaud de mon égorgement ! — Mais les dieux du moins ne laisseront pas ma mort impunie ; un autre viendra, un vengeur, un fils né pour tuer une mère et faire payer le meurtre d'un père. Exilé, errant, banni de cette terre, il reviendra mettre ce couronnement à l'édifice de maux élevé pour les siens. L'appel suppliant de son père
abattu le conduira au but. Pourquoi dès lors, gémissante, m'apitoyer ainsi sur moi-même ? Puisqu'après avoir vu la ville d'Ilion traitée comme elle fut, je vois ses vainqueurs finir de la sorte par un décret du Ciel ² , allons ! je
serai forte et subirai la mort : les dieux n'en ont-ils pas juré un grand serment ? Je salue dans ces portes les portes de l'Enfer, et je ne souhaite plus qu'un coup bien porté, qui, sans convulsion, dans les flots d'un sang qui tue doucement, vienne fermer mes yeux.

LE CORYPHÉE

CASSANDRA.

Then mark me well,

Thou ſhalt behold the death of Agamemnon.

1395

CHORUS.

To better omens tune that voice unbleſs’d,

Or in eternal ſilence be it ſunk.

CASSANDRA.

This is an ill no medicine can heal.

CHORUS.

Not if it happens: but avert it, Heav’n!

CASSANDRA.

To pray be thine; the murd'rous deed is theirs.

1400

CHORUS.

What man dares perpetrate this dreadful act?

CASSANDRA.

How widely doſt thou wander from my words?

CHORUS.

I heard not whoſe bold hand ſhou'd do the deed.

CASSANDRA.

Yet ſpeak I well the language of your Greece.

CHORUS.

The gift of Phœbus this; no trivial grace.

1405

CASSANDRA.

Ah, what a ſudden flame comes ruſhing on me!

I burn, I burn. Apollo, O Apollo!

This lioneſs, that in a ſenſual ſty

Roll’d with the wolf, the generous lion abſent,

Will kill me.

1410

And the forcereſs, as ſhe brews

Her philtred cup, will drug it with my blood.

She glories, as againſt her husband’s life

She whets the axe, her vengeance falls on him

For that he came accompanied by me.—

1415

CASSANDRA.

Why do I longer wear these uſeleſs honours,

This laurel wand, and these prophetic wreaths?

Away; before I die I cast you from me;

Lie there, and periſh; I am rid of you;

Or deck the ſplendid ruin of ſome other.

1420

Apollo rends from me these ſacred veſtments,

Who ſaw me in his rich habiliments

Mock’d ’midſt my friends, doubtleſs without a cauſe.

When in opprobrious terms they jeer’d my ſkill,

And treated me as a poor vagrant wretch,

1425

That told events from door to door for bread,

I bore it all: but now the prophet God,

That with his own arts grac’d me, ſinks me down

To this low ruin.

As my father fell

1430

Butcher’d e’en at the altar, like the victim’s

My warm blood at the altar ſhall be ſhed:

Nor ſhall we die unhonour’d by the Gods.

He comes, dreadful in puniſhment, the ſon

Of this bad mother, by her death t’ avenge

1435

His murder’d father: Diſtant tho’ he roams,

An outcast and exile, by his friends

Fenc’d from these deeds of violence, he comes

In ſolemn vengeance for his father laid

Thus low.

1440

But why for foreign miſeries

Does the tear darken in my eye, that ſaw

The fall of Ilium, and its haughty conq'rors

In righteous judgment thus receive their meed?

But forward now; I go to cloſe the ſcene,

1445

Nor ſhrink from death.

I have a vow in Heav’n:

And further I adjure these gates of Hell,

Well may the blow be aim’d, that whilſt my blood

Flows in a copious ſſtream, I may not feel

1450

The fierce, convulsive agonies of death;

But gently ſink, and cloſe my eyes in peace.

CHORUS.

CORIFEO

ché veri eventi udii, non finzioni;

ma, quanto al resto, son fuori di strada.

CASSANDRA

Vedrai, dico la morte d'Agamènnone !

CORIFEO

Taci! La lingua, o misera, sopisci !

1450

CASSANDRA

A sanar ciò ch' io dissi, non v' ha medico!

CORIFEO

No, se avverrà! Ma, no, mai non avvenga!

CASSANDRA

Tu fa' voti: altri pensano a dar morte!

CORIFEO

Qual uomo compierà tale misfatto?

CASSANDRA

Ben travedesti, dunque, i miei responsi!

1455

CORIFEO

Dell' uccisor la trama io non intesi!

CASSANDRA

E pur, la lingua di tua patria io parlo.

CORIFEO

Pito anch'esso la parla: e pure è ambiguo.

CASSANDRA

Ahimè! Qual fuoco nel mio petto irrompe!

Ahimè ! Oh Licio Apollo ! Oh Dio ! Oh Dio !

1460

La lionessa bipede, che dorme

a fianco al lupo, mentre lungi sta

il leon generoso, ucciderà

me sventurata! Mentre il ferro affila

contro lo sposo, a vendicar col sangue

1465

la mia venuta, mena vanto che

mescerà col suo sdegno il mio castigo,

quasi filtro con filtro.

A che piú serbo

queste insegne di scherno? E scettro, e al collo

1470

le fatidiche bende? Io vi distruggo

prima ch' io muoia! Con la mala sorte

cadete al suol. Presto io vi seguo:

un' altra

arricchite d'affanni, in vece mia.

1475

Ecco, ed Apollo, ei stesso mi discioglie

le fatidiche vesti, ei che mi vide

già con questi ornamenti, e fra i miei cari,

dai nemici schernita apertamente,

che indamo io profetassi.

1480

E sopportai

ciurmatrice esser detta, vagabonda,

CASSANDRA

sciagurata, famelica, pitocca.

Ora il profeta ond' io fui profetessa

m' adduce a tal fato di morte.

1485

Invece

del patrio altare, il ceppo attende me,

e il colpo e il caldo di funerea strage.

Ma non morremo senza onor di Numi.

Altri pur sorge a far nostra vendetta :

1490

matricida un rampollo, a far vendetta

del padre suo.

Fuggiasco e vagabondo,

da questo suol bandito, tornerà

a coronar pei suoi questa sciagura.

1495

Gli saran guida del giacente padre

l'ossa invocanti.

A che sí piango e levo

lamenti?

Poi che vidi Ilio soffrire

1500

ciò che sofferse, e quei che la distrussero,

per giudicio dei Numi han questa sorte,

muovo al mio fine, e al peso non soccombo.

Volgendosi alla porta della reggia.

Il mio saluto a voi, porte d'Averno!

Ed imploro per me colpo mortale :

1505

sí che, sgorgando a facil morte il sangue,

senza spasimo queste luci chiuda.

CORIFEO

Chor.

Dies andere stimmt zu dem früheren Wort.

Ein arger Dämon giebt

1245

1175 mit Übergewalt dir den gellenden Ruf,

den Todesruf dir ein.

Wie soll das enden?

Kassandra.

Wohlan denn, gleichen soll der Spruch nicht mehr der Braut,

die in des Hochzeitsschleiers Hüllen sich verbirgt.

1250

1180 Des Westes frische Brise fege weg den Dunst,

und aus den aufgewühlten Wogen hebe sich

empor das Unheil, furchtbar wie noch keines war.

Nicht mehr mit Rätselworten geb' ich euch Bescheid.

Bezeugt mir, daß ich wie der Hund die Witterung

1255

1185 des altvergoss'nen Blutes zu verfolgen weiß.

Aus diesem Hause weichet nimmermehr ein Chor

einstimmig in mißstimm'gem Sang; sein Sang ist Fluch.

An Menschenblute hat er sich berauscht und lärmt

und singt den Rundsang: aus dem Hause weicht er nie,

1260

1190 der Chor der Rächerinnen des Verwandtenmords.

Im Schlosse lauert er und singt das alte Lied,

das Lied vom ersten Schritt der Schuld; sein Fluch vergißt

auch dessen nicht, der seines Bruders Ehe brach.

War das ein Fehlschuß oder traf der Schütze gut?

1265

1195 War's einer Jahrmarktsschwindlerin Hellseherei?

Schwör' es doch ab, beschwöre, daß du nie den Ruf

von dieses Hauses alter Schuld vernommen hast.

Chorführer.

Und wenn ich ehrlich leisten könnte diesen Schwur,

was würd' es helfen? Aber Wunder nimmt es mich,

1270

1200 wie du, jenseits des Meeres unter fremdem Volk

erwachsen, deutlich wie ein Augenzeuge sprichst.

Kassandra.

Der Seher Phoibos hat mir dieses Amt verlieh'n.

Chor.

1204 So stieg des Gottes Liebe wohl zu dir herab?

Kassandra.

1203 So ist's. Beschämend war mir dies Geständnis einst.

1275

Chor.

1205 Ach ja, wir eitlen Menschen zieren uns im Glück.

Kassandra.

Inbrünstig Liebeswerben rang um meine Gunst.

Chor.

Und du gewährtest deiner Liebe Vollgenuß?

Kassandra.

Versprochen hab' ich es dem Gott, doch nie gewährt.

Chor.

Und damals schon besaßest du die Seherkraft?

1280

Kassandra.

1210 Schon damals sagt' ich Troia jedes Leid voraus.

Chor.

Wie kam es, daß Apollons Zorn dich nicht gestraft?

Kassandra.

Seit jener Schuld hat niemand meinem Wort geglaubt.

Chor.

Mir scheinen deine Sprüche leider wahr zu sein.

Kassandra.

Ha, ha!

1285

1215 Weh mir, schon wieder kommt die Qual, furchtbar

durchzuckt die Zukunftsahnung mich.

Kassandra.

Seht ihr sie dort? da sitzen sie, am Schlosse dort,

die Kleinen, schattenhaften Traumgebilden gleich,

erschlag'ne Kinder — war's der Oheim, der sie schlug?

1290

1220 die Hand voll Fleisches — ist es nicht ihr eig'nes Fleisch?

Gekrös und Leber — welch ein grausenhaftes Mahl.

Da halten sie's — der eig'ne Vater aß davon.

1223 Jetzt kommt die Rache, Rache nimmt sich jetzt, ich seh's,

1225

1295

Cassandra.

'Tis Agamemnon's doom thou shalt behold.

1435

Chorus.

Peace, hapless woman, to thy boding words.

Cassandra.

Far from my speech stands he who sains and saves.

Chorus.

Ay—were such doom at hand—which God forbid!

Cassandra.

Thou prayest idly—these move swift to slay.

Chorus.

What man prepares a deed of such despite?

1440

Cassandra.

Fool! thus to read amiss mine oracles.

Chorus.

Deviser and device are dark to me.

Cassandra.

Dark! all too well I speak the Grecian tongue.

Chorus.

Ay—but in thine, as in Apollo's strains,

Familiar is the tongue, but dark the thought.

1445

Cassandra.

Ah ah the fire! it waxes, nears me now—

Woe, woe for me, Apollo of the dawn!

Lo, how the woman-thing, the lioness

Couched with the wolf—her noble mate afar—

Will slay me, slave forlorn! Yea, like some witch,

1450

She drugs the cup of wrath, that slays her lord,

With double death—his recompense for me!

Ay, 'tis for me, the prey he bore from Troy,

That she hath sworn his death, and edged the steel!

Ye wands, ye wreaths that cling around my neck,

1455

Ye showed me prophetess yet scorned of all—

I stamp you into death, or e'er I die—

Down, to destruction!

Thus I stand revenged—

Go, crown some other with a prophet's woe.

1460

Look! it is he, it is Apollo's self

Rending from me the prophet-robe he gave.

God! while I wore it yet, thou saw'st me mocked

There at my home by each malicious mouth—

To all and each, an undivided scorn.

1465

The name alike and fate of witch and cheat—

Woe, poverty, and famine—all I bore; ¹

And at this last the god hath brought me here

Into death's toils, and what his love had made,

His hate unmakes me now: and I shall stand

1470

Not now before the altar of my home,

But me a slaughter-house and block of blood

Shall see hewn down, a reeking sacrifice.

Yet shall the gods have heed of me who die,

For by their will shall one requite my doom.

1475

He, to avenge his father's blood outpoured,

Shall smite and slay with matricidal hand.

Ay, he shall come—tho' far away he roam,

A banished wanderer in a stranger's land—

To crown his kindred's edifice of ill,

1480

Called home to vengeance by his father's fall:

Thus have the high gods sworn, and shall fulfil.

And now why mourn I, tarrying on earth,

Since first mine Ilion has found its fate

And I beheld, and those who won the wall

1485

Pass to such issue as the gods ordain?

I too will pass and like them dare to die!

[ Turns and looks upon the palace door.

Portal of Hades, thus I bid thee hail!

Grant me one boon—a swift and mortal stroke,

1490

That all unwrung by pain, with ebbing blood

Shed forth in quiet death, I close mine eyes.

Chorus.

Kassandra.

Agamemnon, sag' ich, wirst du heute sterben seh'n.

1195

Der Chorführer.

Gebiete deinem Frevelmund, Unselige!

Kassandra.

Doch wendet kein Erretter, was mein Wort enthüllt.

Der Chorführer.

Ja, wenn's zur That wird; aber nie geschehe das!

Kassandra.

Du flehst um Abwehr; jene sorgen für den Mord.

Der Chorführer.

Von welchem Mann wird solche Gräuelthat vollbracht?

1200

Kassandra.

Schon wieder hast du meinen Spruch ganz falsch gefaßt.

Der Chorführer.

Wie er die That vollendet, bleibt mir dunkel nur.

Kassandra.

Und doch bin ich mit Hellas' Rede wohlvertraut.

Der Chorführer.

Auch Phöbos kennt sie; dennoch spricht er räthselhaft.

Kassandra.

O Grauen, welche Glut! Sie flammt an mich heran!

1205

O Leid! Lykeier Phöbos! Weh, o wehe mir!

Die da, die Menschenlöwin, die dem Wolfe sich

Gesellt, indeß er ferne war, der edle Leu,

Sie wird mich Arme morden; ja, wie Zaubergift

Bereitend, prahlt sie ihrem Groll auch meinen Lohn

1210

Zu mischen, wekt für ihren Herrn das Todeserz,

Mit Mord an ihm zu rächen, daß ich kam mit ihm.

Was trag' ich länger diesen Schmuck, mir selbst zum Spott,

Den Stab, die Seherkränze hier um meinen Hals?

Fort! Dich zerbrech' ich, ehe mich mein Loos ereilt!

1215

Euch wers' ich hin; verderbet! So vergelt' ich euch:

Schenkt einer Andern euren Fluch an meiner Statt!

O schaut! Apollon selber zieht das Seherkleid

Mir aus. Mit eignen Augen hat er's ja geseh'n,

Wie selbst in diesem Schmucke Freund und Feind zumal,

1220

Von Wahn geblendet, offen mich verspotteten!

Ich Arme mußt', als landdurchschweifend Zauberweib,

Mich hungerleidend, Bettlerin gescholten seh'n.

Und jeho trieb der Seher, der zur Seherin

Mich umgeschaffen, solchem Todesloos mich zu.

1225

Anstatt des Vaterherdes wartet mein der Block,

Wo blutig heißer Opfertod mich fällen wird.

Doch meines Todes Nächer sind die Götter einst.

Denn wieder kommt ein andrer Rächer uns, der Sohn,

Ein Muttermörder, der des Vaters Tod vergilt.

1230

Ein irrer Flüchtling kehrt er heim aus fremdem Land,

Den Götterfluch zu krönen, der dies Haus verfolgt.

Mit hohem Eide schwuren ja die Himmlischen,

Daß ihn des Vaters Todessturz heimführt dereinst.

Was seufz' ich fremde Sklavin so zum Himmel auf?

1235

Nachdem ich einmal Ilions erhabne Stadt

Sah stürzen, wie sie stürzte, sah die Bürger dort

Also dahingeschwunden nach der Götter Spruch;

Will ich zum Tode stürzen, dulde muthig aus!

Des Schattenlandes Pforten hier, euch grüß' ich noch.

1240

Ich flehe: tödtlich treffe mich der Todesstreich,

Daß, wenn des Blutes Bäche sanfthinsterbend mir

Entströmen, ohne Zucken sich mein Auge schließt!

(Sie hat Seherstab und Kränze weggeworfen, und entkleidet sich nun auch des priesterlichen Gewandes.) (Sie verläßt den Wagen, und schreitet langsam dem Palaste zu.)

Der Chorführer.