Agamemnon

Aeschylus

Aeschylus, Volume 2. Smyth, Herbert Weir, translator. London; New York: William Heinemann; G.P. Putnam's Sons, 1926.

  1. Surely some malignant spirit, falling upon you with heavy swoop, moves you to chant your piteous woes fraught with death. But the end I am helpless to discover.
Cassandra
  1. And now, no more shall my prophecy peer forth from behind a veil like a new-wedded bride; but
  2. it will rush upon me clear as a fresh wind blowing against the sun’s uprising so as to dash against its rays, like a wave, a woe far mightier than mine. No more by riddles will I instruct you. And bear me witness, as, running close behind,
  3. I scent the track of crimes done long ago. For from this roof never departs a choir chanting in unison, but singing no harmonious tune; for it tells not of good. And so, gorged on human blood, so as to be the more emboldened, a revel-rout of kindred Furies haunts the house,
  4. hard to be drive away. Lodged within its halls they chant their chant, the primal sin; and, each in turn, they spurn with loathing a brother’s bed, for they bitterly spurn the one who defiled it.[*](Thyestes’ corruption of Aerope, wife of his brother Atreus.)Have I missed the mark, or, like a true archer, do I strike my quarry?
  5. Or am I prophet of lies, a door-to-door babbler? Bear witness upon your oath that I know the deeds of sin, ancient in story, of this house.
Chorus
  1. How could an oath, a pledge although given in honor, effect any cure? Yet I marvel at you that,
  2. though bred beyond the sea, you speak truth of a foreign city, even as if you had been present there.
Cassandra
  1. The seer Apollo appointed me to this office.
Chorus
  1. Can it be that he, a god, was smitten with desire?
Cassandra
  1. Before now I was ashamed to speak of this.
Chorus
  1. In prosperity all take on airs.
Cassandra
  1. Oh, but he struggled to win me, breathing ardent love for me.
Chorus
  1. Did you in due course come to the rite of marriage?
Cassandra
  1. I consented to Loxias but broke my word.
Chorus
  1. Were you already possessed by the art inspired of the god?
Cassandra
  1. Already I prophesied to my countrymen all their disasters.
Chorus
  1. How came it then that you were unharmed by Loxias’ wrath?
Cassandra
  1. Ever since that fault I could persuade no one of anything.
Chorus
  1. And yet to us at least the prophecies you utter seem true enough.