Thesauros Literature Tragedy Ὀρέστης

Ὀρέστης

Ὀρέστης Euripides

Parodos

[Choral 1]
Hush, hush! let your footsteps fall lightly! not a sound! 140
Electra
Go further from his couch, further, I beseech you!
Chorus
There, I obey.
Electra
Ah, ah! Speak like the breath of a slender reed-pipe, my dear, I pray. 145
Chorus
See, how soft and low I drop my voice.
Electra
Yes, do so; approach now, softly, softly!
 
Give me an account of why you have come here. For at last he has lain down, and sleeps. 150
Chorus
How is he? You give us an account, my dear; what has happened, what misfortune?
Electra
He is still breathing, but his moans grow feeble. 155
Chorus
What are you saying? turning to Orestes. Unhappy Orestes!
Electra
You will kill him, if you disturb him from the sweet sleep he now enjoys.
Chorus
Poor sufferer, for his hateful deeds, inspired by a god! 160
Electra
Ah, misery! Injustice it was, after all, from an unjust mouth, when Loxias on the tripod of Themis
 
decreed my mother’s most unnatural murder. 165
[Choral 2]
Do you see? He stirs beneath his robe!
Electra
Alas! Your noisy chatter has roused him from his sleep.
Chorus
No, I think he is asleep.
Electra
Leave us, go away from the house! circle back again! cease this noise! 170
Chorus
He is asleep.
Electra
You are right.These words are assigned to the Chorus in the translation but have been moved to correlate to the Greek. O Lady Night,
 
giver of sleep to hard-working mortals, come from Erebus, come, wing your way to the palace of Agamemnon. 175
 
For with misery and woe we are lost, we are gone. 180
 
There! To the Chorus. that noise again! Do be still and keep the sound of your voice
 
away from his couch; let him enjoy his sleep in peace, my dear! 185
Chorus
Tell me, what end of troubles awaits him.
Electra
Death, death; what else? For he has no desire for food.
Chorus
Then his destiny is already clear. 190
Electra
Phoebus offered us up for sacrifice, when he ordered the pitiable, unnatural murder of our mother, who killed our father.
Chorus
It was just.
Electra
But it was not well done.
 
You killed and were killed, my mother! and you have slain a father and your own children; 195
 
for we are dead or as good as dead. You are in your grave, and the greater part of my life is spent in weeping and wailing, 200
 
and tears at night; unmarried, childless, I drag out forever a joyless existence. 205

nav.navigate

nav.identity

common.settings

common.language
TR EN
common.theme