Chapter 146

Cho.How say'st thou then, did storm the naval armyAttack and end, by the celestials' anger?Her.It suits not to defile a day auspiciousWith ill-announcing speech: distinct each god's due:And when a messenger with gloomy visageTo a city bears a fall'n host's woes—God ward off!—One popular wound that happens to the city,And many sacrificed from many households—Men, scourged by that two-thonged whip Ares loves so,Double spear-headed curse, bloody yoke-couple,—Of woes like these, doubtless, whoe'er comes weighted,Him does it suit to sing the Erinues' paian.But who, of matters saved a glad-news-bringer,Comes to a city in good estate rejoicing....How shall I mix good things with evil, tellingOf storm against the Achaioi, urged by gods' wrath?For they swore league, being arch-foes before that,Fire and the sea: and plighted troth approved they,Destroying the unhappy Argeian army,At night began the bad-wave-outbreak evils;For, ships against each other Threkian breezesShattered: and these, butted at in a furyBy storm and typhoon, with surge rain-resounding,—Oft they went, vanished, through a bad herd's whirling.And, when returned the brilliant light of Helios,We view the Aigaian sea on flower with corpsesOf men Achaian and with naval ravage.But us indeed, and ship, unhurt i' the hull too,Either some one outstole us or outprayed us—Some god—no man it was the tiller touching.And Fortune, savior, willing on our ship sat.So as it neither had in harbor wave-surgeNor ran aground against a shore all rocky.And then, the water-Haides having fled fromIn the white day, not trusting to our fortune,We chewed the cud in thoughts—this novel sorrowO' the army laboring and badly pounded.And now—if any one of them is breathing—They talk of us as having-perished: why not?And we—that they the same fate have, imagine.May it be for the best! Meneleos, then,Foremost and specially to come, expect thou!If (that is) any ray o' the sun reports himLiving and seeing too—by Zeus' contrivings,Not yet disposed to quite destroy the lineage—Some hope is he shall come again to household.Having heard such things, know, thou truth art hearing!Cho.Who may he have been that named thus wholly with exactitude—(Was he some one whom we see not, by forecastings of the futureGuiding tongue in happy mood?)—Her with battle for a bridegroom, on all sides contention-wooed,Helena? Since—mark the suture!—Ship's-Hell, Man's-Hell, City's-Hell,From the delicately—pompous curtains that pavilion well,Forth, by favor of the galeOf earth-born Zephuros did she sail.Many shield-bearers, leaders of the pack,Sailed too upon their track,Theirs who had directed oar,Then visible no more,To Simois' leaf-luxuriant shore—For sake of strife all gore!To Ilion Wrath, fulfilling her intent,This marriage-care—the rightly named so—sent:In after-time, for the tables' abuseAnd that of the hearth-partaker Zeus,Bringing to punishmentThose who honored with noisy throatThe honor of the bride, the hymenæal noteWhich did the kinsfolk then to singing urge.But, learning a new hymn for that which was,The ancient city of PriamosGroans probably a great and general dirge,Denominating Paris"The man that miserably marries:"—She who, all the while before,A life, that was a general dirgeFor citizens' unhappy slaughter, bore,And thus a man, by no milk's help,Within his household reared a lion's whelpThat loved the teatIn life's first festal stage:Gentle as yet,A true child-lover, and, to men of age,A thing whereat pride warms;And oft he had it in his armsLike any new-born babe, bright-faced, to handWagging its tail, at belly's strict command.But in due time upgrown,The custom of progenitors was shown:For—thanks for sustenance repayingWith ravage of sheep slaughtered—It made unbidden feast;With blood the house was watered,To household came a woe there was no staying:Great mischief many-slaying!From God it was—some priestOf Até, in the house, by nurture thus increased.At first, then, to the city of Ilion wentA soul, as I might say, of windless calm—Wealth's quiet ornament,An eyes'-dart bearing balm,Love's spirit-biting flower.But—from the true course bending—She brought about, of marriage, bitter ending:Ill-resident, ill-mate, in powerPassing to the Priamidai—by sendingOf Hospitable Zeus—Erinus for a bride,—to make brides mourn, her dower.Spoken long agoWas the ancient sayingStill among mortals staying:"Man's great prosperity at height of riseEngenders offspring nor unchilded dies;And, from good fortune, to such families,Buds forth insatiate woe."Whereas, distinct from any,Of my own mind I am:For 't is the unholy deed begets the many,Resembling each its dam.Of households that correctly estimate,Ever a beauteous child is born of Fate.But ancient Arrogance delights to generateArrogance, young and strong 'mid mortals' sorrow,Or now, or then, when comes the appointed morrow.And she bears young Satiety;And, fiend with whom nor fight nor war can be,Unholy Daring—twin black CursesWithin the household, children like their nurses.But Justice shines in smoke-grimed habitations,And honors the well-omened life;While,—gold-besprinkled stationsWhere the hands' filth is rife,With backward-turning eyesLeaving,—to holy seats she hies,Not worshipping the power of wealthStamped with applause by stealth:And to its end directs each thing begun.Approach then, my monarch, of Troia the sacker, of Atreus the son!How ought I address thee, how ought I revere thee,—nor yet overhittingNor yet underbending the grace that is fitting?Many of mortals hasten to honor the seeming-to-be—Passing by justice: and, with the ill-faring, to groan as he groans all are free.But no bite of the sorrow their liver has reached to:They say with the joyful,—one outside on each, too,As they force to a smile smileless faces.But whoever is good at distinguishing racesIn sheep of his flock—it is not for the eyesOf a man to escape such a shepherd's surprise,As they seem, from a well-wishing mind,In watery friendship to fawn and be kind.Thou to me, then, indeed, sending an army for Helena's sake,(I will not conceal it,) wast—oh, by no help of the Muses!—depictedNot well of thy midriff the rudder directing,—convictedOf bringing a boldness they did not desire to the men with existence at stake.But now—from no outside of mind, nor unlovingly—gracious thou artTo those who have ended the labor, fulfilling their part;And in time shalt thou know, by inquiry instructed,Who of citizens justly, and who not to purpose, the city conducted.Agamemnon.First, indeed, Argos, and the gods, the local,'T is right addressing—those with me the partnersIn this return and right things done the cityOf Priamos: gods who, from no tongue hearingThe rights o' the cause, for Ilion's fate man-slaught'rousInto the bloody vase, not oscillating,Put the vote-pebbles, while, o' the rival vessel,Hope rose up to the lip-edge: filled it was not.By smoke the captured city is still conspicuous:Até's burnt-offerings live: and, dying with them,The ash sends forth the fulsome blasts of riches.Of these things, to the gods grace many-mindful'T is right I render, since both nets outrageousWe built them round with, and, for sake of woman,It did the city to dust—the Argeian monster,The horse's nestling, the shield-bearing peopleThat made a leap, at setting of the Pleiads,And, vaulting o'er the tower, the raw-flesh-feedingLion licked up his fill of blood tyrannic.I to the gods indeed prolonged this preface;But—as forthythought, I remember hearing—I say the same, and thou co-pleader hast me.Since few of men this faculty is born withTo honor, without grudge, their friend successful.For moody, on the heart, a poison seatedIts burden doubles to who gained the sickness:By his own griefs he is himself made heavy,And out-of-door prosperity seeing groans at.Knowing, I 'd call (for well have I experienced)"Fellowship's mirror," "phantom of a shadow,"Those seeming to be mighty gracious to me:While just Odusseus—he who sailed not willing—When joined on, was to me the ready trace-horse.This of him, whether dead or whether living,I say. For other city-and-gods' concernment—Appointing common courts, in full assemblageWe will consult. And as for what holds seemlyHow it may lasting stay well, must be counselled:While what has need of medicines PaionianWe, either burning or else cutting kindly,Will make endeavor to turn pain from sickness.And now into the domes and homes by altarGoing, I to the gods first raise the right-hand—They who, far sending, back again have brought me.And Victory, since she followed, fixed remain she!Klu.Men, citizens, Argeians here, my worships!I shall not shame me, consort-loving mannersTo tell before you: for in time there dies offThe diffidence from people. Not from othersLearning, I of myself will tell the hard lifeI bore so long as this man was 'neath Ilion.First: for a woman, from the male divided,To sit at home alone, is monstrous evil—Hearing the many rumors back-revenging:And for now This to come, now That bring afterWoe, and still worse woe, bawling in the household!And truly, if so many wounds had chanced onMy husband here, as homeward used to dribbleReport, he's pierced more than a net to speak of!While, were he dying (as the words abounded)A triple-bodied Geruon the Second,Plenty above—for loads below I count not—Of earth a three-share cloak he'd boast of taking,Once only dying in each several figure!Because of such-like rumors back-revenging,Many the halters from my neck, above head,Others thanIloosed—loosed from neck by main force!From this cause, sure, the boy stands not beside me—Possessor of our troth-plights, thine and mine too—As ought Orestes: be not thou astonished!For, him brings up our well-disposed guest-captiveStrophios the Phokian—ills that told on both sidesTo me predicting—both of thee 'neath IlionThe danger, and if anarchy's mob-uproarShould overthrow thy council; since 'tis born withMortals,—whoe'er has fallen, the more to kick him.Such an excuse, I think, no cunning carries!As for myself—why, of my wails the rushingFountains are dried up: not in them a drop more!And in my late-to-bed eyes I have damageBewailing what concerned thee, those torch-holdingsForever unattended to. In dreams—why,Beneath the light wing-beats o' the gnat, I woke upAs he went buzzing—sorrows that concerned theeSeeing, that filled more than their fellow-sleep-time.Now, all this having suffered, from soul grief-freeI would style this man here the dog o' the stables,The savior forestay of the ship, the high roof'sGround-prop, son sole-begotten to his father,—Ay, land appearing to the sailors past hope,Loveliest day to see after a tempest,To the wayfaring-one athirst a well-spring,—The joy, in short, of 'scaping all that's—fatal!I judge him worth addresses such as these are—Envy stand off!—for many those old evilsWe underwent. And now, to me—dear headship!—Dismount thou from this car, not earthward settingThe foot of thine, O king, that's Ilion's spoiler!Slave-maids, why tarry?—whose the task allottedTo strew the soil o' the road with carpet-spreadings.Immediately be purple-strewn the pathway,So that to home unhoped may lead him—Justice!As for the rest, care shall—by no sleep conquered—Dispose things—justly (gods to aid!) appointed.Aga.Offspring of Leda, of my household warder,Suitably to my absence hast thou spoken,For long the speech thou didst outstretch! But aptlyTo praise—from others ought to go this favor.And for the rest,—not me, in woman's fashion,Mollify, nor—as mode of barbarous man is—To me gape forth a groundward-failing clamor!Nor, strewing it with garments, make my passageEnvied! Gods, sure, with these behooves we honor:But, for a mortal on these varied beautiesTo walk—to me, indeed, is nowise fear-free.I say—as man, not god, to me do homage!Apart from foot-mats both and varied vesturesRenown is loud, and—not to lose one's senses,God's greatest gift. Behooves we him call happyWho has brought life to end in loved wellbeing.If all things I might manage thus—brave man, I!Klu.Come now, this say, nor feign a feeling to me!Aga.With feeling, know indeed, I do not tamper!Klu.Vowed'st thou to the gods, in fear, to act thus?Aga.If any,Iwell knew resolve I outspoke.Klu.What think'st thou Priamos had done, thus victor?Aga.On varied vests—I do think—he had passaged.Klu.Then, do not, struck with awe at human censure....Aga.Well, popular mob-outcry much avails too!Klu.Ay, but the unenvied is not the much valued.Aga.Sure, 't is no woman's part to long for battle!Klu.Why, to the prosperous, even suits a beating!Aga.What? thou this beating us in war dost prize too?Klu.Persuade thee! power, for once, grantme—and willing!Aga.But if this seem so to thee—shoes, let some oneLoose under, quick—foot's serviceable carriage!And me, on these sea-products walking, may noGrudge from a distance, from the god's eye, strike at!For great shame were my strewment-spoiling—riches!Spoiling with feet, and silver-purchased textures!Of these things, thus then. But this female-strangerTenderly take inside! Who conquers mildlyGod, from afar, benignantly regardeth.For, willing, no one wears a yoke that's servile:And she, of many valuables, outpickedThe flower, the army's gift, myself has followed.So—since to hear thee, I am brought about thus,—I go into the palace—purples treading.Klu.There is the sea—and what man shall exhaust it?—Feeding much purple's worth-its-weight-in-silverDye, ever fresh and fresh, our garments' tincture;At home, such wealth, king, we begin—by gods' help—With having, and to lack, the household knows not.Of many garments had I vowed a treading(In oracles if fore-enjoined the household)Of this dear soul the safe-return-price scheming!For, root existing, foliage goes up houses,O'erspreading shadow against Seirios dog-star;And, thou returning to the hearth domestic,Warmth, yea, in winter dost thou show returning.And when, too, Zeus works, from the green-grape acrid,Wine—then, already, cool in houses cometh—The perfect man his home perambulating!Zeus, Zeus Perfecter, these my prayers perfect thou!—Thy care be—yea—of things thou mayst make perfect!Cho.Wherefore to me, this fear—Groundedly stationed hereFronting my heart, the portent-watcher—flits she?Wherefore should prophet-playThe uncalled and unpaid lay,Nor—having spat forth fear, like bad dreams—sits sheOn the mind's throne beloved—well-suasive Boldness?For time, since, by a throw of all the hands,The boat's stern-cables touched the sands,Has passed from youth to oldness,—When under Ilion rushed the ship-borne bands.And from my eyes I learn—Being myself my witness—their return.Yet, all the same, without a lyre, my soul,Itself its teacher too, chants from withinErinus' dirge, not having now the wholeOf Hope's dear boldness: nor my inwards sin—The heart that's rolled in whirls against the mindJustly presageful of a fate behind.But I pray—things false, from my hope, may fallInto the fate that's not-fulfilled-at-all!Especially at least, of health that's greatThe term's insatiable: for, its weight—A neighbor, with a common wall between—Ever will sickness lean;And destiny, her course pursuing straight,Has struck man's ship against a reef unseen.Now, when a portion, rather than the treasure,Fear casts from sling, with peril in right measure,It has not sunk—the universal freight,(With misery freighted over-full,)Nor has fear whelmed the hull.Then too the gift of Zeus,Two-handedly profuse,Even from the furrows' yield for yearly useHas done away with famine, the disease;But blood of man to earth once falling,—deadly, black,—In times ere these,—Who may, by singing spells, call back?Zeus had not else stopped one who rightly knewThe way to bring the dead again.But, did not an appointed Fate constrainThe Fate from gods, to bear no more than due,My heart, outstripping what tongue utters,Would have all out: which now, in darkness, muttersMoodily grieved, nor ever hopes to findHow she a word in season may unwindFrom out the enkindling mind.Klu.Take thyself in, thou too—I say, Kassandra!Since Zeus—not angrily—in household placed theePartaker of hand-sprinklings, with the manySlaves stationed, his the Owner's altar close to.Descend from out this car, nor be high-minded!And truly they do say Alkmene's child onceBore being sold, slaves' barley-bread his living.If, then, necessity of this lot o'erbalance,Much is the favor of old-wealthy masters:For those who, never hoping, made fine harvestAre harsh to slaves in all things, beyond measure,Thou hast—with us—such usage as law warrants.Cho.To thee it was, she paused plain speech from speaking.Being inside the fatal nets—obeying,Thou mayst obey: but thou mayst disobey too!Klu.Why, if she is not, in the swallow's fashion,Possessed of voice that 's unknown and barbaric,I, with speech—speaking in mind's scope—persuade her.Cho.Follow! The best—as things now stand—she speaks of.Obey thou, leaving this thy car-enthronement!Klu.Well, with this thing at door, for me no leisureTo waste time: as concerns the hearth mid-navelled,Already stand the sheep for fireside slayingBy those who never hoped to have such favor.If thou, then, aught of this wilt do, delay not!But if thou, being witless, tak'st no word in,Speak thou, instead of voice, with hand as Kars do!Cho.She seems a plain interpreter in need of,The stranger! and her way—a beast's new-captured!Klu.Why, she is mad, sure,—hears her own bad senses,—Who, while she comes, leaving a town new-captured,Yet knows not how to bear the bit o' the bridleBefore she has out-frothed her bloody fierceness.Not I—throwing away more words—will shamed be!Cho.But I,—for I compassionate,—will chafe not.Come, O unhappy one, this car vacating,Yielding to this necessity, prove yoke's use!Kassandra.Otototoi, Gods, Earth—Apollon, Apollon!Cho.Why didst thou "ototoi" concerning Loxias?Since he is none such as to suit a mourner.Kas.Otototoi, Gods, Earth,—Apollon, Apollon!Cho.Ill-boding here again the god invokes she—Nowise empowered in woes to stand by helpful.Kas.Apollon, Apollon,Guard of the ways, my destroyer!For thou hast quite, this second time, destroyed me.Cho.To prophesy she seems of her own evils:Remains the god-gift to the slave-soul present.Kas.Apollon, Apollon,Guard of the ways, my destroyer!Ha, whither hast thou led me? to what roof now?Cho.To the Atreidai's roof: if this thou know'st not,I tell it thee, nor this wilt thou call falsehood.Kas.How! how!God-hated, then! Of many a crime it knew—Self-slaying evils, halters too:Man's-shambles, blood-besprinkler of the ground!Cho.She seems to be good-nosed, the stranger: dog-like,She snuffs indeed the victims she will find there.Kas.How! how!By the witnesses here I am certain now!These children bewailing their slaughters—flesh dressed in the fireAnd devoured by their sire!Cho.Ay, we have heard of thy soothsaying glory,Doubtless: but prophets none are we in scent of!Kas.Ah, gods, what ever does she meditate?What this new anguish great?Great in the house here she meditates illSuch as friends cannot bear, cannot cure it: and stillOff stands all ResistanceAfar in the distance!Cho.Of these I witless am—these prophesyings.But those I knew: for the whole city bruits them.Kas.Ah, unhappy one, this thou consummatest?Thy husband, thy bed's common guest,In the bath having brightened.... How shall I declareConsummation? It soon will be there:For hand after hand she outstretches,At life as she reaches!Cho.Nor yet I 've gone with thee! for—after riddles—Now, in blind oracles, I feel resourceless.Kas.Eh, eh, papai, papai,What this, I espy?Some net of Haides undoubtedly!Nay, rather, the snareIs she who has shareIn his bed, who takes part in the murder there!But may a revolt—Unceasing assault—On the Race, raise a shoutSacrificial, aboutA victim—by stoning—For murder atoning!Cho.What this Erinus which i' the house thou callestTo raise her cry? Not me thy word enlightens!To my heart has runA drop of the crocus-dye:Which makes for thoseOn earth by the spear that lie,A common closeWith life's descending sun.Swift is the curse begun!Kas.How! how!See—see quick!Keep the bull from the cow!In the vesture she catching him, strikes him nowWith the black-horned trick,And he falls into the watery vase!Of the craft-killing caldron I tell thee the case!Cho.I would not boast to be a topping criticOf oracles: but to some sort of evilI liken these. From oracles, what good speechTo mortals, beside, is sent?It comes of their evils: these arts word-abounding that sing the eventBring the fear 't is their office to teach.Kas.Ah me, ah me—Of me unhappy, evil-destined fortunes!For I bewail my proper woeAs, mine with his, all into one I throw.Why hast thou hither me unhappy brought?—Unless that I should die with him—for naught!What else was sought?Cho.Thou art some mind-mazed creature, god-possessed:And all about thyself dost wailA lay—no lay!Like some brown nightingaleInsatiable of noise, who—well away!—From her unhappy breastKeeps moaning Itus, Itus, and his lifeWith evils, flourishing on each side, rife.Kas.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 sunderingWith spear, the two-edged thing!Cho.Whence hast thou this on-rushing god-involving painAnd spasms in vain?For, things that terrify,With changing unintelligible cryThou strikest up in tune, yet all the whileAfter that Orthian style!Whence hast thou limits to the oracular road,That evils bode?Kas.Ah me, the nuptials, the nuptials of Paris, the deadly to friends!Ah me, of Skamandros the draughtPaternal! There once, to these ends,On thy banks was I brought,The unhappy! And now, by Kokutos and Acheron's shoreI shall soon be, it seems, these my oracles singing once more!Cho.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-wreakingOf thee shrill-shrieking:To me who hear—a wonder!Kas.Ah me, the toils—the toils of the cityThe wholly destroyed: ah, pity,Of the sacrificings my father madeIn the ramparts' aid—Much slaughter of grass-fed flocks—that afforded no cureThat the city should not, as it does now, the burthen endure!But I, with the soul on fire,Soon to the earth shall cast me and expire!Cho.To things, on the former consequent,Again hast thou given vent:And 't is some evil-meaning fiend doth move thee,Heavily falling from above thee,To melodize thy sorrows—else, in singing,Calamitous, death-bringing!And of all this the endI am without resource to apprehend.Kas.Well then, the oracle from veils no longerShall be outlooking, like a bride new-married:But bright it seems, against the sun's uprisingsBreathing, to penetrate thee: so as, wave-like,To wash against the rays a woe much greaterThan this. I will no longer teach by riddles.And witness, running with me, that of evilsDone long ago, I nosing track the footstep!For, this same roof here—never quits a ChorosOne-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:They hymn their hymn—within the house close sitting—The first beginning curse: in turn spit forth atThe 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?Henceforward witness, swearing now, I know notBy other's word the old sins of this household!Cho.And how should oath, bond honorably binding,Become thy cure? No less I wonder at thee—That thou, beyond sea reared, a strange-tongued cityShouldst hit in speaking, just as if thou stood'st by!Kas.Prophet Apollon put me in this office.Cho.What, even though a god, with longing smitten?Kas.At first, indeed, shame was to me to say this.Cho.For, more relaxed grows every one who fares well.Kas.But he was athlete to me—huge grace breathing!Cho.Well, to the work of children, went ya law's way?Kas.Having consented, I played false to Loxias.Cho.Already when the wits inspired possessed of?Kas.Already townsmen all their woes I foretold.Cho.How wast thou then unhurt by Loxias' anger?Kas.I no one aught persuaded, when I sinned thus.Cho.To us, at least, now sooth to say thou seemest.Kas.Halloo, halloo, ah, evils!Again, straightforward foresight's fearful laborWhirls 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 rilled with flesh, the meal domestic—Entrails and vitals both, most piteous burthen,Plain they are holding!—which their father tasted!For this, I say, plans punishment a certainLion ignoble, on the bed that wallows,House-guard (ah, me!) to the returning master—Mine, since to bear the slavish yoke behooves me!The ships' commander, Ilion's desolator,Knows not what things the tongue of the lewd she-dogSpeaking, outspreading, shiny-souled, in fashionOf Até hid, will reach to, by ill fortune!Such things she dares—the female, the male's slayer!She is ... how calling her the hateful bite-beastMay I hit the mark? Some amphisbaina—SkullaHousing in rocks, of mariners the mischief,Revelling Haides' mother,—curse, no truce with,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 naught persuade, all 's one! Why?What is to be will come! And soon thou, present,"True prophet all too much" wilt pitying style me!Cho.Thuestes' feast, indeed, on flesh of children,I went with, and I shuddered. Fear too holds meListing what 's true as life, nowise out-imaged!Kas.I say, thou Agamemnon's fate shalt look on!Cho.Speak good words, O unhappy! Set mouth sleeping!Kas.But Paian stands in no stead to the speech here.Cho.Nay, if the thing be near: but never be it!

Cho.How say'st thou then, did storm the naval armyAttack and end, by the celestials' anger?

Cho.How say'st thou then, did storm the naval army

Attack and end, by the celestials' anger?

Her.It suits not to defile a day auspiciousWith ill-announcing speech: distinct each god's due:And when a messenger with gloomy visageTo a city bears a fall'n host's woes—God ward off!—One popular wound that happens to the city,And many sacrificed from many households—Men, scourged by that two-thonged whip Ares loves so,Double spear-headed curse, bloody yoke-couple,—Of woes like these, doubtless, whoe'er comes weighted,Him does it suit to sing the Erinues' paian.But who, of matters saved a glad-news-bringer,Comes to a city in good estate rejoicing....How shall I mix good things with evil, tellingOf storm against the Achaioi, urged by gods' wrath?For they swore league, being arch-foes before that,Fire and the sea: and plighted troth approved they,Destroying the unhappy Argeian army,At night began the bad-wave-outbreak evils;For, ships against each other Threkian breezesShattered: and these, butted at in a furyBy storm and typhoon, with surge rain-resounding,—Oft they went, vanished, through a bad herd's whirling.And, when returned the brilliant light of Helios,We view the Aigaian sea on flower with corpsesOf men Achaian and with naval ravage.But us indeed, and ship, unhurt i' the hull too,Either some one outstole us or outprayed us—Some god—no man it was the tiller touching.And Fortune, savior, willing on our ship sat.So as it neither had in harbor wave-surgeNor ran aground against a shore all rocky.And then, the water-Haides having fled fromIn the white day, not trusting to our fortune,We chewed the cud in thoughts—this novel sorrowO' the army laboring and badly pounded.And now—if any one of them is breathing—They talk of us as having-perished: why not?And we—that they the same fate have, imagine.May it be for the best! Meneleos, then,Foremost and specially to come, expect thou!If (that is) any ray o' the sun reports himLiving and seeing too—by Zeus' contrivings,Not yet disposed to quite destroy the lineage—Some hope is he shall come again to household.Having heard such things, know, thou truth art hearing!

Her.It suits not to defile a day auspicious

With ill-announcing speech: distinct each god's due:

And when a messenger with gloomy visage

To a city bears a fall'n host's woes—God ward off!—

One popular wound that happens to the city,

And many sacrificed from many households—

Men, scourged by that two-thonged whip Ares loves so,

Double spear-headed curse, bloody yoke-couple,—

Of woes like these, doubtless, whoe'er comes weighted,

Him does it suit to sing the Erinues' paian.

But who, of matters saved a glad-news-bringer,

Comes to a city in good estate rejoicing....

How shall I mix good things with evil, telling

Of storm against the Achaioi, urged by gods' wrath?

For they swore league, being arch-foes before that,

Fire and the sea: and plighted troth approved they,

Destroying the unhappy Argeian army,

At night began the bad-wave-outbreak evils;

For, ships against each other Threkian breezes

Shattered: and these, butted at in a fury

By storm and typhoon, with surge rain-resounding,—

Oft they went, vanished, through a bad herd's whirling.

And, when returned the brilliant light of Helios,

We view the Aigaian sea on flower with corpses

Of men Achaian and with naval ravage.

But us indeed, and ship, unhurt i' the hull too,

Either some one outstole us or outprayed us—

Some god—no man it was the tiller touching.

And Fortune, savior, willing on our ship sat.

So as it neither had in harbor wave-surge

Nor ran aground against a shore all rocky.

And then, the water-Haides having fled from

In the white day, not trusting to our fortune,

We chewed the cud in thoughts—this novel sorrow

O' the army laboring and badly pounded.

And now—if any one of them is breathing—

They talk of us as having-perished: why not?

And we—that they the same fate have, imagine.

May it be for the best! Meneleos, then,

Foremost and specially to come, expect thou!

If (that is) any ray o' the sun reports him

Living and seeing too—by Zeus' contrivings,

Not yet disposed to quite destroy the lineage—

Some hope is he shall come again to household.

Having heard such things, know, thou truth art hearing!

Cho.Who may he have been that named thus wholly with exactitude—(Was he some one whom we see not, by forecastings of the futureGuiding tongue in happy mood?)—Her with battle for a bridegroom, on all sides contention-wooed,Helena? Since—mark the suture!—Ship's-Hell, Man's-Hell, City's-Hell,From the delicately—pompous curtains that pavilion well,Forth, by favor of the galeOf earth-born Zephuros did she sail.Many shield-bearers, leaders of the pack,Sailed too upon their track,Theirs who had directed oar,Then visible no more,To Simois' leaf-luxuriant shore—For sake of strife all gore!

Cho.Who may he have been that named thus wholly with exactitude—

(Was he some one whom we see not, by forecastings of the future

Guiding tongue in happy mood?)

—Her with battle for a bridegroom, on all sides contention-wooed,

Helena? Since—mark the suture!—

Ship's-Hell, Man's-Hell, City's-Hell,

From the delicately—pompous curtains that pavilion well,

Forth, by favor of the gale

Of earth-born Zephuros did she sail.

Many shield-bearers, leaders of the pack,

Sailed too upon their track,

Theirs who had directed oar,

Then visible no more,

To Simois' leaf-luxuriant shore—

For sake of strife all gore!

To Ilion Wrath, fulfilling her intent,This marriage-care—the rightly named so—sent:In after-time, for the tables' abuseAnd that of the hearth-partaker Zeus,Bringing to punishmentThose who honored with noisy throatThe honor of the bride, the hymenæal noteWhich did the kinsfolk then to singing urge.But, learning a new hymn for that which was,The ancient city of PriamosGroans probably a great and general dirge,Denominating Paris"The man that miserably marries:"—She who, all the while before,A life, that was a general dirgeFor citizens' unhappy slaughter, bore,

To Ilion Wrath, fulfilling her intent,

This marriage-care—the rightly named so—sent:

In after-time, for the tables' abuse

And that of the hearth-partaker Zeus,

Bringing to punishment

Those who honored with noisy throat

The honor of the bride, the hymenæal note

Which did the kinsfolk then to singing urge.

But, learning a new hymn for that which was,

The ancient city of Priamos

Groans probably a great and general dirge,

Denominating Paris

"The man that miserably marries:"—

She who, all the while before,

A life, that was a general dirge

For citizens' unhappy slaughter, bore,

And thus a man, by no milk's help,Within his household reared a lion's whelpThat loved the teatIn life's first festal stage:Gentle as yet,A true child-lover, and, to men of age,A thing whereat pride warms;And oft he had it in his armsLike any new-born babe, bright-faced, to handWagging its tail, at belly's strict command.

And thus a man, by no milk's help,

Within his household reared a lion's whelp

That loved the teat

In life's first festal stage:

Gentle as yet,

A true child-lover, and, to men of age,

A thing whereat pride warms;

And oft he had it in his arms

Like any new-born babe, bright-faced, to hand

Wagging its tail, at belly's strict command.

But in due time upgrown,The custom of progenitors was shown:For—thanks for sustenance repayingWith ravage of sheep slaughtered—It made unbidden feast;With blood the house was watered,To household came a woe there was no staying:Great mischief many-slaying!From God it was—some priestOf Até, in the house, by nurture thus increased.

But in due time upgrown,

The custom of progenitors was shown:

For—thanks for sustenance repaying

With ravage of sheep slaughtered—

It made unbidden feast;

With blood the house was watered,

To household came a woe there was no staying:

Great mischief many-slaying!

From God it was—some priest

Of Até, in the house, by nurture thus increased.

At first, then, to the city of Ilion wentA soul, as I might say, of windless calm—Wealth's quiet ornament,An eyes'-dart bearing balm,Love's spirit-biting flower.But—from the true course bending—She brought about, of marriage, bitter ending:Ill-resident, ill-mate, in powerPassing to the Priamidai—by sendingOf Hospitable Zeus—Erinus for a bride,—to make brides mourn, her dower.

At first, then, to the city of Ilion went

A soul, as I might say, of windless calm—

Wealth's quiet ornament,

An eyes'-dart bearing balm,

Love's spirit-biting flower.

But—from the true course bending—

She brought about, of marriage, bitter ending:

Ill-resident, ill-mate, in power

Passing to the Priamidai—by sending

Of Hospitable Zeus—

Erinus for a bride,—to make brides mourn, her dower.

Spoken long agoWas the ancient sayingStill among mortals staying:"Man's great prosperity at height of riseEngenders offspring nor unchilded dies;And, from good fortune, to such families,Buds forth insatiate woe."Whereas, distinct from any,Of my own mind I am:For 't is the unholy deed begets the many,Resembling each its dam.Of households that correctly estimate,Ever a beauteous child is born of Fate.But ancient Arrogance delights to generateArrogance, young and strong 'mid mortals' sorrow,Or now, or then, when comes the appointed morrow.And she bears young Satiety;And, fiend with whom nor fight nor war can be,Unholy Daring—twin black CursesWithin the household, children like their nurses.

Spoken long ago

Was the ancient saying

Still among mortals staying:

"Man's great prosperity at height of rise

Engenders offspring nor unchilded dies;

And, from good fortune, to such families,

Buds forth insatiate woe."

Whereas, distinct from any,

Of my own mind I am:

For 't is the unholy deed begets the many,

Resembling each its dam.

Of households that correctly estimate,

Ever a beauteous child is born of Fate.

But ancient Arrogance delights to generate

Arrogance, young and strong 'mid mortals' sorrow,

Or now, or then, when comes the appointed morrow.

And she bears young Satiety;

And, fiend with whom nor fight nor war can be,

Unholy Daring—twin black Curses

Within the household, children like their nurses.

But Justice shines in smoke-grimed habitations,And honors the well-omened life;While,—gold-besprinkled stationsWhere the hands' filth is rife,With backward-turning eyesLeaving,—to holy seats she hies,Not worshipping the power of wealthStamped with applause by stealth:And to its end directs each thing begun.

But Justice shines in smoke-grimed habitations,

And honors the well-omened life;

While,—gold-besprinkled stations

Where the hands' filth is rife,

With backward-turning eyes

Leaving,—to holy seats she hies,

Not worshipping the power of wealth

Stamped with applause by stealth:

And to its end directs each thing begun.

Approach then, my monarch, of Troia the sacker, of Atreus the son!How ought I address thee, how ought I revere thee,—nor yet overhittingNor yet underbending the grace that is fitting?Many of mortals hasten to honor the seeming-to-be—Passing by justice: and, with the ill-faring, to groan as he groans all are free.But no bite of the sorrow their liver has reached to:They say with the joyful,—one outside on each, too,As they force to a smile smileless faces.But whoever is good at distinguishing racesIn sheep of his flock—it is not for the eyesOf a man to escape such a shepherd's surprise,As they seem, from a well-wishing mind,In watery friendship to fawn and be kind.Thou to me, then, indeed, sending an army for Helena's sake,(I will not conceal it,) wast—oh, by no help of the Muses!—depictedNot well of thy midriff the rudder directing,—convictedOf bringing a boldness they did not desire to the men with existence at stake.But now—from no outside of mind, nor unlovingly—gracious thou artTo those who have ended the labor, fulfilling their part;And in time shalt thou know, by inquiry instructed,Who of citizens justly, and who not to purpose, the city conducted.

Approach then, my monarch, of Troia the sacker, of Atreus the son!

How ought I address thee, how ought I revere thee,—nor yet overhitting

Nor yet underbending the grace that is fitting?

Many of mortals hasten to honor the seeming-to-be—

Passing by justice: and, with the ill-faring, to groan as he groans all are free.

But no bite of the sorrow their liver has reached to:

They say with the joyful,—one outside on each, too,

As they force to a smile smileless faces.

But whoever is good at distinguishing races

In sheep of his flock—it is not for the eyes

Of a man to escape such a shepherd's surprise,

As they seem, from a well-wishing mind,

In watery friendship to fawn and be kind.

Thou to me, then, indeed, sending an army for Helena's sake,

(I will not conceal it,) wast—oh, by no help of the Muses!—depicted

Not well of thy midriff the rudder directing,—convicted

Of bringing a boldness they did not desire to the men with existence at stake.

But now—from no outside of mind, nor unlovingly—gracious thou art

To those who have ended the labor, fulfilling their part;

And in time shalt thou know, by inquiry instructed,

Who of citizens justly, and who not to purpose, the city conducted.

Agamemnon.First, indeed, Argos, and the gods, the local,'T is right addressing—those with me the partnersIn this return and right things done the cityOf Priamos: gods who, from no tongue hearingThe rights o' the cause, for Ilion's fate man-slaught'rousInto the bloody vase, not oscillating,Put the vote-pebbles, while, o' the rival vessel,Hope rose up to the lip-edge: filled it was not.By smoke the captured city is still conspicuous:Até's burnt-offerings live: and, dying with them,The ash sends forth the fulsome blasts of riches.Of these things, to the gods grace many-mindful'T is right I render, since both nets outrageousWe built them round with, and, for sake of woman,It did the city to dust—the Argeian monster,The horse's nestling, the shield-bearing peopleThat made a leap, at setting of the Pleiads,And, vaulting o'er the tower, the raw-flesh-feedingLion licked up his fill of blood tyrannic.I to the gods indeed prolonged this preface;But—as forthythought, I remember hearing—I say the same, and thou co-pleader hast me.Since few of men this faculty is born withTo honor, without grudge, their friend successful.For moody, on the heart, a poison seatedIts burden doubles to who gained the sickness:By his own griefs he is himself made heavy,And out-of-door prosperity seeing groans at.Knowing, I 'd call (for well have I experienced)"Fellowship's mirror," "phantom of a shadow,"Those seeming to be mighty gracious to me:While just Odusseus—he who sailed not willing—When joined on, was to me the ready trace-horse.This of him, whether dead or whether living,I say. For other city-and-gods' concernment—Appointing common courts, in full assemblageWe will consult. And as for what holds seemlyHow it may lasting stay well, must be counselled:While what has need of medicines PaionianWe, either burning or else cutting kindly,Will make endeavor to turn pain from sickness.And now into the domes and homes by altarGoing, I to the gods first raise the right-hand—They who, far sending, back again have brought me.And Victory, since she followed, fixed remain she!

Agamemnon.First, indeed, Argos, and the gods, the local,

'T is right addressing—those with me the partners

In this return and right things done the city

Of Priamos: gods who, from no tongue hearing

The rights o' the cause, for Ilion's fate man-slaught'rous

Into the bloody vase, not oscillating,

Put the vote-pebbles, while, o' the rival vessel,

Hope rose up to the lip-edge: filled it was not.

By smoke the captured city is still conspicuous:

Até's burnt-offerings live: and, dying with them,

The ash sends forth the fulsome blasts of riches.

Of these things, to the gods grace many-mindful

'T is right I render, since both nets outrageous

We built them round with, and, for sake of woman,

It did the city to dust—the Argeian monster,

The horse's nestling, the shield-bearing people

That made a leap, at setting of the Pleiads,

And, vaulting o'er the tower, the raw-flesh-feeding

Lion licked up his fill of blood tyrannic.

I to the gods indeed prolonged this preface;

But—as forthythought, I remember hearing—

I say the same, and thou co-pleader hast me.

Since few of men this faculty is born with

To honor, without grudge, their friend successful.

For moody, on the heart, a poison seated

Its burden doubles to who gained the sickness:

By his own griefs he is himself made heavy,

And out-of-door prosperity seeing groans at.

Knowing, I 'd call (for well have I experienced)

"Fellowship's mirror," "phantom of a shadow,"

Those seeming to be mighty gracious to me:

While just Odusseus—he who sailed not willing—

When joined on, was to me the ready trace-horse.

This of him, whether dead or whether living,

I say. For other city-and-gods' concernment—

Appointing common courts, in full assemblage

We will consult. And as for what holds seemly

How it may lasting stay well, must be counselled:

While what has need of medicines Paionian

We, either burning or else cutting kindly,

Will make endeavor to turn pain from sickness.

And now into the domes and homes by altar

Going, I to the gods first raise the right-hand—

They who, far sending, back again have brought me.

And Victory, since she followed, fixed remain she!

Klu.Men, citizens, Argeians here, my worships!I shall not shame me, consort-loving mannersTo tell before you: for in time there dies offThe diffidence from people. Not from othersLearning, I of myself will tell the hard lifeI bore so long as this man was 'neath Ilion.First: for a woman, from the male divided,To sit at home alone, is monstrous evil—Hearing the many rumors back-revenging:And for now This to come, now That bring afterWoe, and still worse woe, bawling in the household!And truly, if so many wounds had chanced onMy husband here, as homeward used to dribbleReport, he's pierced more than a net to speak of!While, were he dying (as the words abounded)A triple-bodied Geruon the Second,Plenty above—for loads below I count not—Of earth a three-share cloak he'd boast of taking,Once only dying in each several figure!Because of such-like rumors back-revenging,Many the halters from my neck, above head,Others thanIloosed—loosed from neck by main force!From this cause, sure, the boy stands not beside me—Possessor of our troth-plights, thine and mine too—As ought Orestes: be not thou astonished!For, him brings up our well-disposed guest-captiveStrophios the Phokian—ills that told on both sidesTo me predicting—both of thee 'neath IlionThe danger, and if anarchy's mob-uproarShould overthrow thy council; since 'tis born withMortals,—whoe'er has fallen, the more to kick him.Such an excuse, I think, no cunning carries!As for myself—why, of my wails the rushingFountains are dried up: not in them a drop more!And in my late-to-bed eyes I have damageBewailing what concerned thee, those torch-holdingsForever unattended to. In dreams—why,Beneath the light wing-beats o' the gnat, I woke upAs he went buzzing—sorrows that concerned theeSeeing, that filled more than their fellow-sleep-time.Now, all this having suffered, from soul grief-freeI would style this man here the dog o' the stables,The savior forestay of the ship, the high roof'sGround-prop, son sole-begotten to his father,—Ay, land appearing to the sailors past hope,Loveliest day to see after a tempest,To the wayfaring-one athirst a well-spring,—The joy, in short, of 'scaping all that's—fatal!I judge him worth addresses such as these are—Envy stand off!—for many those old evilsWe underwent. And now, to me—dear headship!—Dismount thou from this car, not earthward settingThe foot of thine, O king, that's Ilion's spoiler!Slave-maids, why tarry?—whose the task allottedTo strew the soil o' the road with carpet-spreadings.Immediately be purple-strewn the pathway,So that to home unhoped may lead him—Justice!As for the rest, care shall—by no sleep conquered—Dispose things—justly (gods to aid!) appointed.

Klu.Men, citizens, Argeians here, my worships!

I shall not shame me, consort-loving manners

To tell before you: for in time there dies off

The diffidence from people. Not from others

Learning, I of myself will tell the hard life

I bore so long as this man was 'neath Ilion.

First: for a woman, from the male divided,

To sit at home alone, is monstrous evil—

Hearing the many rumors back-revenging:

And for now This to come, now That bring after

Woe, and still worse woe, bawling in the household!

And truly, if so many wounds had chanced on

My husband here, as homeward used to dribble

Report, he's pierced more than a net to speak of!

While, were he dying (as the words abounded)

A triple-bodied Geruon the Second,

Plenty above—for loads below I count not—

Of earth a three-share cloak he'd boast of taking,

Once only dying in each several figure!

Because of such-like rumors back-revenging,

Many the halters from my neck, above head,

Others thanIloosed—loosed from neck by main force!

From this cause, sure, the boy stands not beside me—

Possessor of our troth-plights, thine and mine too—

As ought Orestes: be not thou astonished!

For, him brings up our well-disposed guest-captive

Strophios the Phokian—ills that told on both sides

To me predicting—both of thee 'neath Ilion

The danger, and if anarchy's mob-uproar

Should overthrow thy council; since 'tis born with

Mortals,—whoe'er has fallen, the more to kick him.

Such an excuse, I think, no cunning carries!

As for myself—why, of my wails the rushing

Fountains are dried up: not in them a drop more!

And in my late-to-bed eyes I have damage

Bewailing what concerned thee, those torch-holdings

Forever unattended to. In dreams—why,

Beneath the light wing-beats o' the gnat, I woke up

As he went buzzing—sorrows that concerned thee

Seeing, that filled more than their fellow-sleep-time.

Now, all this having suffered, from soul grief-free

I would style this man here the dog o' the stables,

The savior forestay of the ship, the high roof's

Ground-prop, son sole-begotten to his father,

—Ay, land appearing to the sailors past hope,

Loveliest day to see after a tempest,

To the wayfaring-one athirst a well-spring,

—The joy, in short, of 'scaping all that's—fatal!

I judge him worth addresses such as these are

—Envy stand off!—for many those old evils

We underwent. And now, to me—dear headship!—

Dismount thou from this car, not earthward setting

The foot of thine, O king, that's Ilion's spoiler!

Slave-maids, why tarry?—whose the task allotted

To strew the soil o' the road with carpet-spreadings.

Immediately be purple-strewn the pathway,

So that to home unhoped may lead him—Justice!

As for the rest, care shall—by no sleep conquered—

Dispose things—justly (gods to aid!) appointed.

Aga.Offspring of Leda, of my household warder,Suitably to my absence hast thou spoken,For long the speech thou didst outstretch! But aptlyTo praise—from others ought to go this favor.And for the rest,—not me, in woman's fashion,Mollify, nor—as mode of barbarous man is—To me gape forth a groundward-failing clamor!Nor, strewing it with garments, make my passageEnvied! Gods, sure, with these behooves we honor:But, for a mortal on these varied beautiesTo walk—to me, indeed, is nowise fear-free.I say—as man, not god, to me do homage!Apart from foot-mats both and varied vesturesRenown is loud, and—not to lose one's senses,God's greatest gift. Behooves we him call happyWho has brought life to end in loved wellbeing.If all things I might manage thus—brave man, I!

Aga.Offspring of Leda, of my household warder,

Suitably to my absence hast thou spoken,

For long the speech thou didst outstretch! But aptly

To praise—from others ought to go this favor.

And for the rest,—not me, in woman's fashion,

Mollify, nor—as mode of barbarous man is—

To me gape forth a groundward-failing clamor!

Nor, strewing it with garments, make my passage

Envied! Gods, sure, with these behooves we honor:

But, for a mortal on these varied beauties

To walk—to me, indeed, is nowise fear-free.

I say—as man, not god, to me do homage!

Apart from foot-mats both and varied vestures

Renown is loud, and—not to lose one's senses,

God's greatest gift. Behooves we him call happy

Who has brought life to end in loved wellbeing.

If all things I might manage thus—brave man, I!

Klu.Come now, this say, nor feign a feeling to me!

Aga.With feeling, know indeed, I do not tamper!

Klu.Vowed'st thou to the gods, in fear, to act thus?

Aga.If any,Iwell knew resolve I outspoke.

Klu.What think'st thou Priamos had done, thus victor?

Aga.On varied vests—I do think—he had passaged.

Klu.Then, do not, struck with awe at human censure....

Aga.Well, popular mob-outcry much avails too!

Klu.Ay, but the unenvied is not the much valued.

Aga.Sure, 't is no woman's part to long for battle!

Klu.Why, to the prosperous, even suits a beating!

Aga.What? thou this beating us in war dost prize too?

Klu.Persuade thee! power, for once, grantme—and willing!

Aga.But if this seem so to thee—shoes, let some oneLoose under, quick—foot's serviceable carriage!And me, on these sea-products walking, may noGrudge from a distance, from the god's eye, strike at!For great shame were my strewment-spoiling—riches!Spoiling with feet, and silver-purchased textures!Of these things, thus then. But this female-strangerTenderly take inside! Who conquers mildlyGod, from afar, benignantly regardeth.For, willing, no one wears a yoke that's servile:And she, of many valuables, outpickedThe flower, the army's gift, myself has followed.So—since to hear thee, I am brought about thus,—I go into the palace—purples treading.

Aga.But if this seem so to thee—shoes, let some one

Loose under, quick—foot's serviceable carriage!

And me, on these sea-products walking, may no

Grudge from a distance, from the god's eye, strike at!

For great shame were my strewment-spoiling—riches!

Spoiling with feet, and silver-purchased textures!

Of these things, thus then. But this female-stranger

Tenderly take inside! Who conquers mildly

God, from afar, benignantly regardeth.

For, willing, no one wears a yoke that's servile:

And she, of many valuables, outpicked

The flower, the army's gift, myself has followed.

So—since to hear thee, I am brought about thus,—

I go into the palace—purples treading.

Klu.There is the sea—and what man shall exhaust it?—Feeding much purple's worth-its-weight-in-silverDye, ever fresh and fresh, our garments' tincture;At home, such wealth, king, we begin—by gods' help—With having, and to lack, the household knows not.Of many garments had I vowed a treading(In oracles if fore-enjoined the household)Of this dear soul the safe-return-price scheming!For, root existing, foliage goes up houses,O'erspreading shadow against Seirios dog-star;And, thou returning to the hearth domestic,Warmth, yea, in winter dost thou show returning.And when, too, Zeus works, from the green-grape acrid,Wine—then, already, cool in houses cometh—The perfect man his home perambulating!Zeus, Zeus Perfecter, these my prayers perfect thou!—Thy care be—yea—of things thou mayst make perfect!

Klu.There is the sea—and what man shall exhaust it?—

Feeding much purple's worth-its-weight-in-silver

Dye, ever fresh and fresh, our garments' tincture;

At home, such wealth, king, we begin—by gods' help—

With having, and to lack, the household knows not.

Of many garments had I vowed a treading

(In oracles if fore-enjoined the household)

Of this dear soul the safe-return-price scheming!

For, root existing, foliage goes up houses,

O'erspreading shadow against Seirios dog-star;

And, thou returning to the hearth domestic,

Warmth, yea, in winter dost thou show returning.

And when, too, Zeus works, from the green-grape acrid,

Wine—then, already, cool in houses cometh—

The perfect man his home perambulating!

Zeus, Zeus Perfecter, these my prayers perfect thou!

—Thy care be—yea—of things thou mayst make perfect!

Cho.Wherefore to me, this fear—Groundedly stationed hereFronting my heart, the portent-watcher—flits she?Wherefore should prophet-playThe uncalled and unpaid lay,Nor—having spat forth fear, like bad dreams—sits sheOn the mind's throne beloved—well-suasive Boldness?For time, since, by a throw of all the hands,The boat's stern-cables touched the sands,Has passed from youth to oldness,—When under Ilion rushed the ship-borne bands.

Cho.Wherefore to me, this fear—

Groundedly stationed here

Fronting my heart, the portent-watcher—flits she?

Wherefore should prophet-play

The uncalled and unpaid lay,

Nor—having spat forth fear, like bad dreams—sits she

On the mind's throne beloved—well-suasive Boldness?

For time, since, by a throw of all the hands,

The boat's stern-cables touched the sands,

Has passed from youth to oldness,—

When under Ilion rushed the ship-borne bands.

And from my eyes I learn—Being myself my witness—their return.Yet, all the same, without a lyre, my soul,Itself its teacher too, chants from withinErinus' dirge, not having now the wholeOf Hope's dear boldness: nor my inwards sin—The heart that's rolled in whirls against the mindJustly presageful of a fate behind.But I pray—things false, from my hope, may fallInto the fate that's not-fulfilled-at-all!

And from my eyes I learn—

Being myself my witness—their return.

Yet, all the same, without a lyre, my soul,

Itself its teacher too, chants from within

Erinus' dirge, not having now the whole

Of Hope's dear boldness: nor my inwards sin—

The heart that's rolled in whirls against the mind

Justly presageful of a fate behind.

But I pray—things false, from my hope, may fall

Into the fate that's not-fulfilled-at-all!

Especially at least, of health that's greatThe term's insatiable: for, its weight—A neighbor, with a common wall between—Ever will sickness lean;And destiny, her course pursuing straight,Has struck man's ship against a reef unseen.Now, when a portion, rather than the treasure,Fear casts from sling, with peril in right measure,It has not sunk—the universal freight,(With misery freighted over-full,)Nor has fear whelmed the hull.Then too the gift of Zeus,Two-handedly profuse,Even from the furrows' yield for yearly useHas done away with famine, the disease;But blood of man to earth once falling,—deadly, black,—In times ere these,—Who may, by singing spells, call back?Zeus had not else stopped one who rightly knewThe way to bring the dead again.But, did not an appointed Fate constrainThe Fate from gods, to bear no more than due,My heart, outstripping what tongue utters,Would have all out: which now, in darkness, muttersMoodily grieved, nor ever hopes to findHow she a word in season may unwindFrom out the enkindling mind.

Especially at least, of health that's great

The term's insatiable: for, its weight

—A neighbor, with a common wall between—

Ever will sickness lean;

And destiny, her course pursuing straight,

Has struck man's ship against a reef unseen.

Now, when a portion, rather than the treasure,

Fear casts from sling, with peril in right measure,

It has not sunk—the universal freight,

(With misery freighted over-full,)

Nor has fear whelmed the hull.

Then too the gift of Zeus,

Two-handedly profuse,

Even from the furrows' yield for yearly use

Has done away with famine, the disease;

But blood of man to earth once falling,—deadly, black,—

In times ere these,—

Who may, by singing spells, call back?

Zeus had not else stopped one who rightly knew

The way to bring the dead again.

But, did not an appointed Fate constrain

The Fate from gods, to bear no more than due,

My heart, outstripping what tongue utters,

Would have all out: which now, in darkness, mutters

Moodily grieved, nor ever hopes to find

How she a word in season may unwind

From out the enkindling mind.

Klu.Take thyself in, thou too—I say, Kassandra!Since Zeus—not angrily—in household placed theePartaker of hand-sprinklings, with the manySlaves stationed, his the Owner's altar close to.Descend from out this car, nor be high-minded!And truly they do say Alkmene's child onceBore being sold, slaves' barley-bread his living.If, then, necessity of this lot o'erbalance,Much is the favor of old-wealthy masters:For those who, never hoping, made fine harvestAre harsh to slaves in all things, beyond measure,Thou hast—with us—such usage as law warrants.

Klu.Take thyself in, thou too—I say, Kassandra!

Since Zeus—not angrily—in household placed thee

Partaker of hand-sprinklings, with the many

Slaves stationed, his the Owner's altar close to.

Descend from out this car, nor be high-minded!

And truly they do say Alkmene's child once

Bore being sold, slaves' barley-bread his living.

If, then, necessity of this lot o'erbalance,

Much is the favor of old-wealthy masters:

For those who, never hoping, made fine harvest

Are harsh to slaves in all things, beyond measure,

Thou hast—with us—such usage as law warrants.

Cho.To thee it was, she paused plain speech from speaking.Being inside the fatal nets—obeying,Thou mayst obey: but thou mayst disobey too!

Cho.To thee it was, she paused plain speech from speaking.

Being inside the fatal nets—obeying,

Thou mayst obey: but thou mayst disobey too!

Klu.Why, if she is not, in the swallow's fashion,Possessed of voice that 's unknown and barbaric,I, with speech—speaking in mind's scope—persuade her.

Klu.Why, if she is not, in the swallow's fashion,

Possessed of voice that 's unknown and barbaric,

I, with speech—speaking in mind's scope—persuade her.

Cho.Follow! The best—as things now stand—she speaks of.Obey thou, leaving this thy car-enthronement!

Cho.Follow! The best—as things now stand—she speaks of.

Obey thou, leaving this thy car-enthronement!

Klu.Well, with this thing at door, for me no leisureTo waste time: as concerns the hearth mid-navelled,Already stand the sheep for fireside slayingBy those who never hoped to have such favor.If thou, then, aught of this wilt do, delay not!But if thou, being witless, tak'st no word in,Speak thou, instead of voice, with hand as Kars do!

Klu.Well, with this thing at door, for me no leisure

To waste time: as concerns the hearth mid-navelled,

Already stand the sheep for fireside slaying

By those who never hoped to have such favor.

If thou, then, aught of this wilt do, delay not!

But if thou, being witless, tak'st no word in,

Speak thou, instead of voice, with hand as Kars do!

Cho.She seems a plain interpreter in need of,The stranger! and her way—a beast's new-captured!

Cho.She seems a plain interpreter in need of,

The stranger! and her way—a beast's new-captured!

Klu.Why, she is mad, sure,—hears her own bad senses,—Who, while she comes, leaving a town new-captured,Yet knows not how to bear the bit o' the bridleBefore she has out-frothed her bloody fierceness.Not I—throwing away more words—will shamed be!

Klu.Why, she is mad, sure,—hears her own bad senses,—

Who, while she comes, leaving a town new-captured,

Yet knows not how to bear the bit o' the bridle

Before she has out-frothed her bloody fierceness.

Not I—throwing away more words—will shamed be!

Cho.But I,—for I compassionate,—will chafe not.Come, O unhappy one, this car vacating,Yielding to this necessity, prove yoke's use!

Cho.But I,—for I compassionate,—will chafe not.

Come, O unhappy one, this car vacating,

Yielding to this necessity, prove yoke's use!

Kassandra.Otototoi, Gods, Earth—Apollon, Apollon!

Cho.Why didst thou "ototoi" concerning Loxias?Since he is none such as to suit a mourner.

Cho.Why didst thou "ototoi" concerning Loxias?

Since he is none such as to suit a mourner.

Kas.Otototoi, Gods, Earth,—Apollon, Apollon!

Kas.Otototoi, Gods, Earth,

—Apollon, Apollon!

Cho.Ill-boding here again the god invokes she—Nowise empowered in woes to stand by helpful.

Cho.Ill-boding here again the god invokes she

—Nowise empowered in woes to stand by helpful.

Kas.Apollon, Apollon,Guard of the ways, my destroyer!For thou hast quite, this second time, destroyed me.

Kas.Apollon, Apollon,

Guard of the ways, my destroyer!

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

Cho.To prophesy she seems of her own evils:Remains the god-gift to the slave-soul present.

Cho.To prophesy she seems of her own evils:

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

Kas.Apollon, Apollon,Guard of the ways, my destroyer!Ha, whither hast thou led me? to what roof now?

Kas.Apollon, Apollon,

Guard of the ways, my destroyer!

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

Cho.To the Atreidai's roof: if this thou know'st not,I tell it thee, nor this wilt thou call falsehood.

Cho.To the Atreidai's roof: if this thou know'st not,

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

Kas.How! how!God-hated, then! Of many a crime it knew—Self-slaying evils, halters too:Man's-shambles, blood-besprinkler of the ground!

Kas.How! how!

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

Self-slaying evils, halters too:

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

Cho.She seems to be good-nosed, the stranger: dog-like,She snuffs indeed the victims she will find there.

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

She snuffs indeed the victims she will find there.

Kas.How! how!By the witnesses here I am certain now!These children bewailing their slaughters—flesh dressed in the fireAnd devoured by their sire!

Kas.How! how!

By the witnesses here I am certain now!

These children bewailing their slaughters—flesh dressed in the fire

And devoured by their sire!

Cho.Ay, we have heard of thy soothsaying glory,Doubtless: but prophets none are we in scent of!

Cho.Ay, we have heard of thy soothsaying glory,

Doubtless: but prophets none are we in scent of!

Kas.Ah, gods, what ever does she meditate?What this new anguish great?Great in the house here she meditates illSuch as friends cannot bear, cannot cure it: and stillOff stands all ResistanceAfar in the distance!

Kas.Ah, gods, what ever does she meditate?

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!

Cho.Of these I witless am—these prophesyings.But those I knew: for the whole city bruits them.

Cho.Of these I witless am—these prophesyings.

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

Kas.Ah, unhappy one, this thou consummatest?Thy husband, thy bed's common guest,In the bath having brightened.... How shall I declareConsummation? It soon will be there:For hand after hand she outstretches,At life as she reaches!

Kas.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,

At life as she reaches!

Cho.Nor yet I 've gone with thee! for—after riddles—Now, in blind oracles, I feel resourceless.

Cho.Nor yet I 've gone with thee! for—after riddles—

Now, in blind oracles, I feel resourceless.

Kas.Eh, eh, papai, papai,What this, I espy?Some net of Haides undoubtedly!Nay, rather, the snareIs she who has shareIn his bed, who takes part in the murder there!But may a revolt—Unceasing assault—On the Race, raise a shoutSacrificial, aboutA victim—by stoning—For murder atoning!

Kas.Eh, eh, papai, papai,

What this, I espy?

Some net of Haides undoubtedly!

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!

Cho.What this Erinus which i' the house thou callestTo raise her cry? Not me thy word enlightens!To my heart has runA drop of the crocus-dye:Which makes for thoseOn earth by the spear that lie,A common closeWith life's descending sun.Swift is the curse begun!

Cho.What this Erinus which i' the house thou callest

To raise her cry? Not me thy word enlightens!

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!

Kas.How! how!See—see quick!Keep the bull from the cow!In the vesture she catching him, strikes him nowWith the black-horned trick,And he falls into the watery vase!Of the craft-killing caldron I tell thee the case!

Kas.How! how!

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 into the watery vase!

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

Cho.I would not boast to be a topping criticOf oracles: but to some sort of evilI liken these. From oracles, what good speechTo mortals, beside, is sent?It comes of their evils: these arts word-abounding that sing the eventBring the fear 't is their office to teach.

Cho.I would not boast to be a topping critic

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.

Kas.Ah me, ah me—Of me unhappy, evil-destined fortunes!For I bewail my proper woeAs, mine with his, all into one I throw.Why hast thou hither me unhappy brought?—Unless that I should die with him—for naught!What else was sought?

Kas.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 naught!

What else was sought?

Cho.Thou art some mind-mazed creature, god-possessed:And all about thyself dost wailA lay—no lay!Like some brown nightingaleInsatiable of noise, who—well away!—From her unhappy breastKeeps moaning Itus, Itus, and his lifeWith evils, flourishing on each side, rife.

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

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.

Kas.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 sunderingWith spear, the two-edged thing!

Kas.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!

Cho.Whence hast thou this on-rushing god-involving painAnd spasms in vain?For, things that terrify,With changing unintelligible cryThou strikest up in tune, yet all the whileAfter that Orthian style!Whence hast thou limits to the oracular road,That evils bode?

Cho.Whence hast thou this on-rushing god-involving pain

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?

Kas.Ah me, the nuptials, the nuptials of Paris, the deadly to friends!Ah me, of Skamandros the draughtPaternal! There once, to these ends,On thy banks was I brought,The unhappy! And now, by Kokutos and Acheron's shoreI shall soon be, it seems, these my oracles singing once more!

Kas.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

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

Cho.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-wreakingOf thee shrill-shrieking:To me who hear—a wonder!

Cho.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

Of thee shrill-shrieking:

To me who hear—a wonder!

Kas.Ah me, the toils—the toils of the cityThe wholly destroyed: ah, pity,Of the sacrificings my father madeIn the ramparts' aid—Much slaughter of grass-fed flocks—that afforded no cureThat the city should not, as it does now, the burthen endure!But I, with the soul on fire,Soon to the earth shall cast me and expire!

Kas.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!

But I, with the soul on fire,

Soon to the earth shall cast me and expire!

Cho.To things, on the former consequent,Again hast thou given vent:And 't is some evil-meaning fiend doth move thee,Heavily falling from above thee,To melodize thy sorrows—else, in singing,Calamitous, death-bringing!And of all this the endI am without resource to apprehend.

Cho.To things, on the former consequent,

Again hast thou given vent:

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

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.

Kas.Well then, the oracle from veils no longerShall be outlooking, like a bride new-married:But bright it seems, against the sun's uprisingsBreathing, to penetrate thee: so as, wave-like,To wash against the rays a woe much greaterThan this. I will no longer teach by riddles.And witness, running with me, that of evilsDone long ago, I nosing track the footstep!For, this same roof here—never quits a ChorosOne-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:They hymn their hymn—within the house close sitting—The first beginning curse: in turn spit forth atThe 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?Henceforward witness, swearing now, I know notBy other's word the old sins of this household!

Kas.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

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!

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:

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?

Henceforward witness, swearing now, I know not

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

Cho.And how should oath, bond honorably binding,Become thy cure? No less I wonder at thee—That thou, beyond sea reared, a strange-tongued cityShouldst hit in speaking, just as if thou stood'st by!

Cho.And how should oath, bond honorably binding,

Become thy cure? No less I wonder at thee

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

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

Kas.Prophet Apollon put me in this office.

Cho.What, even though a god, with longing smitten?

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

Cho.For, more relaxed grows every one who fares well.

Kas.But he was athlete to me—huge grace breathing!

Cho.Well, to the work of children, went ya law's way?

Kas.Having consented, I played false to Loxias.

Cho.Already when the wits inspired possessed of?

Kas.Already townsmen all their woes I foretold.

Cho.How wast thou then unhurt by Loxias' anger?

Kas.I no one aught persuaded, when I sinned thus.

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

Kas.Halloo, halloo, ah, evils!Again, straightforward foresight's fearful laborWhirls 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 rilled with flesh, the meal domestic—Entrails and vitals both, most piteous burthen,Plain they are holding!—which their father tasted!For this, I say, plans punishment a certainLion ignoble, on the bed that wallows,House-guard (ah, me!) to the returning master—Mine, since to bear the slavish yoke behooves me!The ships' commander, Ilion's desolator,Knows not what things the tongue of the lewd she-dogSpeaking, outspreading, shiny-souled, in fashionOf Até hid, will reach to, by ill fortune!Such things she dares—the female, the male's slayer!She is ... how calling her the hateful bite-beastMay I hit the mark? Some amphisbaina—SkullaHousing in rocks, of mariners the mischief,Revelling Haides' mother,—curse, no truce with,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 naught persuade, all 's one! Why?What is to be will come! And soon thou, present,"True prophet all too much" wilt pitying style me!

Kas.Halloo, halloo, ah, evils!

Again, straightforward foresight's fearful labor

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 rilled with flesh, the meal domestic—

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

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

The ships' 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!

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,

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 naught persuade, all 's one! Why?

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

"True prophet all too much" wilt pitying style me!

Cho.Thuestes' feast, indeed, on flesh of children,I went with, and I shuddered. Fear too holds meListing what 's true as life, nowise out-imaged!

Cho.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!

Kas.I say, thou Agamemnon's fate shalt look on!

Cho.Speak good words, O unhappy! Set mouth sleeping!

Kas.But Paian stands in no stead to the speech here.

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

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