The Phoenician Women
Euripides
Euripides. The Plays of Euripides, Translated into English Prose from the Text of Paley. Vol. II. Coleridge, Edward P., translator. London: George Bell and Sons, 1891.
- O gods, avert these troubles and reconcile the sons of Oedipus!
- Mother, it is no longer a contest of words; the time we still delay is idle waste; your good wishes accomplish nothing;
- for we can never be reconciled except upon the terms already named, that I should keep the scepter and be king of this land. Cease these tedious warnings and let me be. Turning to Polyneices And as for you, get outside the walls, or die!
- Who will kill me? Who is so invulnerable as to plunge a murderous sword
- in my body without getting for himself the same fate?
- He is near, not far away. Do you see my hands?
- I see them; but wealth is cowardly, a craven too fond of life.
- Then did you come to battle with so many against a man worth nothing?
- Yes, for a steadfast general is better than a bold one.
- Relying on the truce, which saves your life, you turn boaster.
- And so do you; once more I demand back my scepter and share of the land.
- I admit no demand; I will live in my own house.
- And keep more than your share?
- Yes. Leave the country!
- O altars of my fathers’ gods—
- Which you are here to destroy.
- Hear me—