Chorus

Thyestes’ banquet on his children’s flesh I understood, and I tremble. Terror possesses me as I hear the truth, nothing fashioned out of falsehood to resemble truth.

But as for the rest I heard I am thrown off the track.

1245

Cassandra

I say you shall look upon Agamemnon dead.

Chorus

To words propitious, miserable girl, lull your speech.

Cassandra

Over what I tell no healing god presides.

Chorus

No, if it is to be; but may it not be so!

Cassandra

You do but pray; their business is to slay.

1250

Chorus

What man is he that contrived this wickedness?

Cassandra

Surely you must have missed the meaning of my prophecies.

Chorus

I do not understand the scheme of him who is to do the deed.

Cassandra

And yet all too well I understand the Greek language.

Chorus

So too do the Pythian oracles; yet they are hard to understand.

1255

Cassandra

Oh, oh! What fire! It comes upon me! Woe, woe! Lycean Apollo! Ah me, ah me! This two-footed lioness, who mates with a wolf in the absence of the noble lion,

will slay me, miserable as I am. Brewing as it were a drug, she vows that with her wrath she will mix requital for me too, while she whets her sword against her husband, to take murderous vengeance for bringing me here. Why then do I bear these mockeries of myself,

1260

this wand, these prophetic chaplets on my neck? Breaking her wand, she throws it and the other insignia of her prophetic office upon the ground, and tramples them underfoot You at least I will destroy before I die myself. To destruction with you! And fallen there, thus do I repay you. Enrich with doom some other in my place. Look, Apollo himself is stripping me

1265

of my prophetic garb—he that saw me mocked to bitter scorn, even in this bravery, by friends turned foes, with one accord, in vain—but, like some vagrant mountebank, called beggar, wretch, starveling, I bore it all.

1270

And now the prophet, having undone me, his prophetess, has brought me to this lethal pass. Instead of my father’s altar a block awaits me, where I am to be butchered in a hot and bloody sacrifice. Yet, we shall not die unavenged by the gods;

1275

for there shall come in turn another, our avenger, a scion of the race, to slay his mother and exact requital for his sire; an exile, a wanderer, a stranger from this land, he shall return to put the coping-stone upon these unspeakable iniquities of his house. For the gods have sworn a mighty oath

1280

that his slain father’s outstretched corpse shall bring him home. Why then thus raise my voice in pitiful lament? Since first I saw the city of Ilium fare what it has fared, while her captors, by the gods’ sentence, are coming to such an end,

1285

I will go in and meet my fate. I will dare to die. This door I greet as the gates of Death. And I pray that, dealt a mortal stroke, without a struggle, my life-blood ebbing away in easy death, I may close these eyes.

1290

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!

CASSANDRA

I say that thou shalt witness the death of Agamemnon.

CHORUS

Wretch! lull thy ill-omened tongue in silence 4

.

CASSANDRA

But the god of healing presides not over this declaration.

CHORUS

No, if indeed it is to be; but never may it be!

CASSANDRA

Thou prayest indeed,—but murder is their care.

CHORUS

By what man is this sad deed 1

prepared?

CASSANDRA

Verily, thou must have very much overlooked my oracles.

CHORUS

Like enough, for I understand not the device of the accomplisher.

CASSANDRA

And yet verily I know the Grecian language too well 2

.

CHORUS

Yes, and the Pythian oracles, and yet they are hard to understand.

CASSANDRA

Ah me! what a fire is that! and it comes upon me! Woe! woe! Lycaean Apollo, ah me! ah me! this biped lioness, that lay down with a wolf in the absence of the generous lion, will slay me, wretched woman; and as though she were compounding poison she will add my price to her wrath 3

. She boasts, while she whets the blade for her husband, that she will exact his murder as a punishment for having brought me hither. Why then do I retain these mockeries of myself, my wands and my prophetic wreaths about my neck? —I will destroy you before my own doom. Go fall into destruction—thus will I rid myself of you; enrich some other maiden with calamities in my room. Lo, too, Apollo himself stripping me of my oracular vesture! and having beheld me even in this array, idly laughed to scorn among my friends, by my foes with no changing of the scale! I poor, wretched, dying of starvation, bore to be called vagrant, like a begging gipsy. And now the prophet, having avenged himself on his prophetess. hath brought me to these deadly woes. And, in place of my sire's altar, a butcher's block awaits me, cut down, a hot reeking victim. Yet. verily, we shall not at all events die unhonoured of the gods. For there shall come hereafter another avenger of our cause, a matricidal scion, avenger of his sire. And he, a wandering exile, estranged from this land, shall return to place the coping-stone upon this curse for his friends; for a mighty oath has been sworn by the gods 1

, that the prostrate corpse of his dead father shall bring him back. Why truly do I wail here by the house, since I first saw the city of Ilion faring as it has fared, and they who captured the city come off thus according to the judgment of the gods; I will go and do [my part,] I will dare to die; and I accost these gates of Hades, and I make my prayer that I may receive a mortal blow, that without a struggle, while my blood in easy death flows away, I may close mine eyes 2

.

CHORUS

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

Chorus

Thyestes' banquet of his children's flesh

I knew and shudder at; fear takes my soul,

Hearing the truth, no imaged counterfeit.

The rest I heard, but follow not the track.

CASSANDRA

On Agamemnon dead, I say, thou'lt look.

Chorus

Lull, poor forlorn one, thy ill-omened tongue.

CASSANDRA

Yet o'er this speech no healing god presides.

Chorus

If be it must; but may it never be;

CASSANDRA

The while thou prayest, theirs it is to slay.

Chorus

What man deviseth this accursèd deed ?

CASSANDRA

Widely thy glance hath missed mine oracles.

Chorus

Ay, for the plotter's scheme to me is dark.

CASSANDRA

Yet in Hellenic speech my words are couched.

Chorus

So too are Pythian chants, yet hard to spell.

CASSANDRA

Alas ! what fire is this! It seizes me.

Woe! woe! Lykeian god! Apollo! Woe!

The biped lioness, that with the wolf

In absence of the noble lion couched,

Will me, her victim, slaughter, and as one

Poison who mixeth, she my doom will add

To crown her vengeance ; whetting 'gainst her lord

The murderous knife, sho boasteth to exact

His death, as payment for escorting me.

Why longer wear this scorn-provoking gear,

This wand, these wreaths prophetic round my neck ?

Thee I will shatter ere myself am doomed.

Hence to destruction : I will follow soon;

Another, in my place, enrich with woes.

Behold, Apollo’s self doth strip me bare

Of the prophetic robe ; coldly he gazed,

What time, in these adornments vainly tricked,

To friends and enemies, with one consent,

All undeserved, a laughter I became :

Vagrant yclept, poor hunger-stricken wretch,

A strolling mountebank, I bare it all;

And now the seer (his vengeance wreaked on me

The seeress) calls me to this deadly fate.

My father at the altar fell, but me

The slaughter-block awaiteth, smitten down

By stroke relentless, reeking with hot gore.

Yet not unhonoured of the gods we fall;

For other champion of our cause shall come,

Seed matricidal, venger of his sire.

An exiled wanderer, from this land estranged,

Returns, this vengeance for his friends to crown.

For, lo, the gods a mighty oath have sworn,

His father's prostrate form shall lead him home.

But why, an alien here, pour I my wail ?

When that I first have seen my Ilion fare

As fared it hath, and they who won the town

In sorry plight, through judgment of the gods.

I'll do! I'll suffer ! I will dare to die.

These gates, as gates of Hades, I adjure,

One prayer I offer, " mortal be the stroke

Free from convulsive throes, in easy death,

While ebbs my life-blood, may I close mine eyes.

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.