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!
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,
’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.
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
’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.
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.
Insatiate a desire of this
Born with all mortals is,
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
Daimon to have been born — who would not, hearing thus?
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.
