Aeschylus Agamemnon 1114

KASSANDRA.

Otototoi, Gods, Earth, —

Apollon, Apollon!

CHOROS.

Why didst thou ototoi concerning Loxias?

Since he is none such as to suit a mourner.

1075

KASSANDRA.

Otototoi, Gods, Earth, —

Apollon, Apollon!

CHOROS.

Ill-boding here again the god invokes she

— Nowise empowered in woes to stand by helpful.

KASSANDRA.

Apollon, Apollon,

1080

Guard of the ways, my destroyer!

For thou hast quite, this second time, destroyed me.

CHOROS.

To prophesy she seems of her own evils:

Remains the god-gift to the slave-soul present.

KASSANDRA.

Apollon, Apollon,

1085

Guard of the ways, my destroyer!

Ha, whither hast thou led me? to what roof now?

CHOROS.

To the Atreidai’s roof: if this thou know’st not,

I tell it thee, nor this wilt thou call falsehood.

KASSANDRA.

How! How!

1090

God-hated, then! Of many a crime it knew —

Self-slaying evils, halters too:

Man’s-shambles, blood-besprinkler of the ground!

CHOROS.

She seems to be good-nosed, the stranger: dog-like,

She snuffs indeed the victims she will find there.

KASSANDRA.

How! How!

By the witnesses here I am certain now!

1095

These children bewailing their slaughters — flesh dressed in the fire

And devoured by their sire!

CHOROS.

Ay, we have heard of thy soothsaying glory,

Doubtless: but prophets none are we in scent of!

KASSANDRA.

Ah, gods, what ever does she meditate?

1100

What this new anguish great?

Great in the house here she meditates ill

Such as friends cannot bear, cannot cure it: and still

Off stands all Resistance

Afar in the distance!

CHOROS.

Of these I witless am — these prophesyings.

1105

But those I knew: for the whole city bruits them.

KASSANDRA.

Ah, unhappy one, this thou consummatest?

Thy husband, thy bed’s common guest,

In the bath having brightened. .. How shall I declare

Consummation? It soon will be there:

For hand after hand she outstretches,

1110

At life as she reaches!

CHOROS.

Nor yet I’ve gone with thee! for — after riddles —

Now, in blind oracles, I feel resourceless.

KASSANDRA.

Eh, eh, papai, papai,

What this, I espy?

Some net of Haides undoubtedly

1115

Nay, rather, the snare

Is she who has share

In his bed, who takes part in the murder there!

But may a revolt —

Unceasing assault —

On the Race, raise a shout

Sacrificial, about

A victim — by stoning —

For murder atoning!

CHOROS.

What this Erinus which i’ the house thou callest

To raise her cry? Not me thy word enlightens!

1120

To my heart has run

A drop of the crocus-dye:

Which makes for those

On earth by the spear that lie,

A common close

With life’s descending sun.

Swift is the curse begun!

KASSANDRA.

How! How!

1125

See — see quick!

Keep the bull from the cow!

In the vesture she catching him, strikes him now

With the black-horned trick,

And he falls in the watery vase!

Of the craft-killing cauldron I tell thee the case!

CHOROS.

I would not boast to be a topping critic

1130

Of oracles: but to some sort of evil

I liken these. From oracles, what good speech

To mortals, beside, is sent?

It comes of their evils: these arts word-abounding that sing the event

Bring the fear’t is their office to teach.

1135

KASSANDRA.

Ah me, ah me —

Of me unhappy, evil-destined fortunes!

For I bewail my proper woe

As, mine with his, all into one I throw.

Why hast thou hither me unhappy brought?

— Unless that I should die with him — for nought!

What else was sought?

CHOROS.

Thou art some mind-mazed creature, god-possessed:

1140

And all about thyself dost wail

A lay — no lay!

Like some brown nightingale

Insatiable of noise, who — well-away! —

From her unhappy breast

Keeps moaning Itus, Itus, and his life

With evils, flourishing on each side, rife.

1145

KASSANDRA.

Ah me, ah me,

The fate o’ the nightingale, the clear resounder!

For a body wing-borne have the gods cast round her,

And sweet existence, from misfortunes free:

But for myself remains a sundering

With spear, the two-edged thing!

CHOROS.

Whence hast thou this on-rushing god-involving pain

1150

And spasms in vain?

For, things that terrify,

With changing unintelligible cry

Thou strikest up in tune, yet all the while

After that Orthian style!

Whence hast thou limits to the oracular road,

That evils bode?

1155

KASSANDRA.

Ah me, the nuptials, the nuptials of Paris, the deadly to friends!

Ah me, of Skamandros the draught

Paternal! There once, to these ends,

On thy banks was I brought,

The unhappy! And now, by Kokutos and Acheron’s shore

1160

I shall soon be, it seems, these my oracles singing once more!

CHOROS.

Why this word, plain too much,

Hast thou uttered? A babe might learn of such!

I am struck with a bloody bite — here under —

At the fate woe-wreaking

1165

Of thee shrill shrieking:

To me who hear — a wonder!

KASSANDRA.

Ah me, the toils — the toils of the city

The wholly destroyed: ah, pity,

Of the sacrificings my father made

In the ramparts’ aid —

Much slaughter of grass-fed flocks — that afforded no cure

That the city should not, as it does now, the burthen endure!

1170

But I, with the soul on fire,

Soon to the earth shall cast me and expire.

CHOROS.

To things, on the former consequent,

Again hast thou given vent:

And ’t is some evil-meaning fiend doth move thee,

1175

Heavily falling from above thee,

To melodize thy sorrows — else, in singing,

Calamitous, death-bringing!

And of all this the end

I am without resource to apprehend

CHORUS

What kind of Erinnys is this that thou art summoning to sound her trumpet-blast over the house? thy words cheer me not: and to my heart has run the drop of saffron dye, which also, in the last hour of man, keeps pace with the rays of the setting sun of life. But calamity comes on apace.

CASSANDRA

CASSANDRE

Ah ! horreur ! horreur ! que vois-je ? n'est-ce point un filet d'enfer ¹ ?... Mais non, le vrai filet, c'est la compagne de lit devenue complice de meurtre ! Allons ! que la troupe attachée à la race ² salue donc du cri rituel le sacrifice d'infamie ³ !

LE CORYPHÉE

Pourquoi sur ce palais provoquer la clameur de l'Érinys ? ta voix cette fois m'épouvante.

LE CHŒUR

Vers mon cœur se précipite un flot aux teintes jaunâtres,

CHORUS.

What Fury doſt thou call within this houſe

1255

To hold her orgies? The dread invocation

Appalls me k

; to my heart the purple drops

Flow back; a deathlike miſt covers my eyes,

With expectation of ſome ſudden ruin.

CASSANDRA.

CORIFEO

5

Quale tu invochi Erinni che si levi

su questa casa? Il tuo dir non m'allieta!

1300

E refluisce al cuore la crocea stilla, come

a chi di lancia cade trafitto, e quivi ha termine

con i postremi raggi

della naufraga vita. E vien rapida morte.

5

CASSANDRA

Ca.

Rete ſanè Plutonis.

355

Sed rete coniux & in cauſa erit

Cædis, ſeditio immoderata eſt.

Eiulet perniciosum facrificium.

Cho.

Quam furiam ad ædes uocat?

Vastans me non iſte ſermo exhilarat.

360

Per cor cucurrit croco tincta

Gutta, Doriaq; eſt caduca.

Occurrit uitæ potens radijs.

Ca.

Celer uerò nocumentum eſt.

Kassandra.

Oh, oh, wehe

1115

Apollon, Apollon.

Chor.

Und abermals ruft sie Apollon lästernd an,

der doch dem Schrei der Trauer nicht erscheinen mag.

Kassandra.

1080 Apollon, Apollon,

ich grüße, Schirmer unsrer Pfade, deinen Stein.

1120

Du Herr der grimmen Pfeile,

mich traf dein Pfeil, gut traf er, jetzt zum zweiten Mal.

Chor.

Wahrsagen will sie von dem eignen Jammerlos.

Denn Knechtschaft raubt die göttliche Begabung nicht.

Kassandra.

1085

1125

Chorus.

Why biddest thou some fiend, I know not whom,

1285

Shriek o'er the house? Thine is no cheering word.

Back to my heart in frozen fear I feel

My wanning life-blood run—

The blood that round the wounding steel

Ebbs slow as sinks life's parting sun—

1290

Swift, swift and sure, some woe comes pressing on!

Cassandra.

Der Chorführer.

Welch' einen Nachgeist heißest du dem Hause laut

Entgegenjubeln? Heiter stimmt das Wort mich nicht.

Und in das Herz zurück drängt er sich purpurroth,

Des Bluts Tropfe, schwindet, wie in Todes Kampf,

1070

Wenn in die Nacht hinab taucht des Lebens Strahl.

Denn Ate's Fluch schreitet schnell.

Kassandra.