Iphigenia in Aulis
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.
- And how will Achilles, cheated of his bride,
- curb the fury of his indignation against you and your wife? Here also is a danger.[*](Paley follows Musgrave in assigning these words to Agamemnon, assuming that the king passes over the servant’s last remark and adds a new cause of alarm, viz., the fraud that is being practiced on Achilles.) Make clear what you are saying.
- It is his name, not himself that Achilles is lending, knowing nothing of the marriage or of my scheming
- or my professed readiness to betroth my daughter to him for a husband’s embrace.[*](Lines 124-32 are rejected by some editors. Hennig supposes them to be the work of the younger Euripides.)
- A dreadful venture yours, king Agamemnon, you that, by promise of your daughter’s hand to the son of the goddess,
- were bringing the maid here to be sacrificed for the Danaids.
- Ah me! I am utterly distraught; alas! bewilderment comes over me. Away! hurry your steps,
- yielding nothing to old age.
- I will make haste, king.
- Do not sit down by woodland fountains; scorn the witcheries of sleep.
- Hush![*](The old man cuts short Agamemnon’s warnings, as being an un-called-for reflection on his own loyalty.)
- And when you pass any place where roads diverge,
- cast your eyes all round, taking heed that no mule-wagon eacape you, passing by on rolling wheels, bearing my child to the ships of the Danaids.
- It shall be so.
- Start then from the bolted gates,[*](Paley retains the MSS. κλήθρων δ᾽ ἐξόρμα, omitting νιν with Monk in 1. 150; Wecklein, reading ἐξορμώσαις to agree with πομπαῖς retains νιν. Hermann transposes the verse after 1. 152, and so Nauck edits.)
- and if you meet the escort, start them back again, and drive at full speed to the abodes of the Cyclopes.
- But tell me, how shall my message find credit with your wife or child?
- Preserve the seal which you bear on this tablet. Away! Already the dawn is growing grey, lighting the lamp of day and the fire of the sun’s four steeds;
- help me in my trouble. Exit Old man. No mortal is prosperous or happy to the last, for no one was ever born to a painless life. Exit Agamemnon.
- To the sandy beach