Thesauros Edebiyat Tragedya Ῥῆσος

Ῥῆσος

Ῥῆσος Euripides

Eksodos

VOICE.
Woe, woe!
 
The burden of the wrath of fate!
GUARDS.
Ha, listen! Wait.
 
Crouch on the ground; it may be yet 730
 
Our man is drawing to the net. 730
VOICE.
Woe, woe!
 
The burden of the hills of Thrace!
LEADER.
An ally? None of Hellene race.
VOICE.
Woe, woe!
 
Yea, woe to me and woe to thee,
 
My master! Once to set thine eye
 
On Ilion the accurst, and die! 735
LEADER
Ho there! What ally passes? The dim night
 
Blurreth mine eyes; I cannot see thee right.
VOICE.
Ho, some one of the Trojan name!
 
Where sleeps your king beneath his shield,
 
Hector? What marshal of the field 740
 
Will hear our tale . . . the men who came
 
And struck us and were gone; and we,
 
We woke and there was nought to see,
 
But our own misery.
LEADER.
I cannot hear him right; it sounds as if 745
 
The Thracians were surprised or in some grief.
THRACIAN.
The army lost and the king slain,
 
Stabbed in the dark! Ah, pain! pain!
 
This deep raw wound . . . Oh, let me die
 
By thy side, Master, by thy side! 750
 
In shame together let us lie
 
Who came to save, and failed and died.
LEADER.
This needs no surmise: ’tis disaster plain
 
That comes. He speaketh of some ally slain. 755
THRACIAN.
Disaster, yea: and with disaster shame,
 
Which lights Disaster to a twofold flame
 
Of evil. For to die in soldier’s wise,
 
Since die we needs must . . . though the man who dies
 
Hath pain . . . to all his house ’tis praise and pride; 760
 
But we, like laggards and like fools we died!
 
When Hector’s hand had showed us where to rest
 
And told the watchword, down we lay, oppressed
 
With weariness of that long march, and slept
 
Just as we fell. No further watch was kept, 765
 
Our arms not laid beside us; by the horse
 
No yoke nor harness ordered. Hector’s force
 
Had victory, so my master heard, and lay
 
Secure, just waiting for the dawn of day
 
To attack. So thought we all, and our lines broke 770
 
And slept. After a little time I woke,
 
Thinking about my horses, that the morn
 
Must see them yoked for war. I found the corn
 
And gave them plenteously. Then in the deep
 
Shadow I saw two men who seemed to creep
 
Close by our line, but swiftly, as I stirred,
 
Crouched and were seeking to make off unheard. 775
 
I shouted then, and bade them keep away:
 
Two thieves, I thought, from the great host that lay
 
Round us. They never answered, and, for me,
 
I said no more but turned and presently
 
Was sleeping. In my sleep there came a dream. 780
 
I seemed to see the horses—mine own team
 
I had trained long since and drove at Rhesus’ side—
 
But wolves were on their backs, wolves, couched astride,
 
Who drove and scourged; I saw the horses rear
 
And stagger with wide nostrils, stiff with fear, 785
 
And, starting up to drive the beasts away,
 
I woke.—A terror of great darkness lay
 
About me, but I lifted up my head
 
And listened. There was moaning, like the dead
 
That moan at night, and over me there flowed, 790
 
So soft, so warm—it was my master’s blood,
 
Who writhed beside me, dying! With a bound
 
I sprang up, empty-handed, groping round
 
For spear or sword, when, lo, a young strong man
 
Was close to me and slashed, and the sword ran 795
 
Deep through my flank. I felt its passage well,
 
So deep, so wide, so spreading . . . then I fell.
 
And they, they got the bridles in their hand
 
And fled .... Ah! Ah! This pain. I cannot stand.
 
I know, I saw, thus much. But why or how 800
 
Those dead men went to death I cannot know,
 
Nor by whose work. But this I say; God send
 
’Tis not foul wrong wrought on us by a friend.
LEADER.
Good charioteer of that ill-fortuned king,
 
Suspect us not. ’Tis Greeks have done this thing. 805
 
But yonder Hector comes. He hath been shown
 
The foul deed, and thy sorrows are his own.
HECTOR.
Ye workers of amazement! Have your eyes
 
No sight? Ye watch and let these Argive spies
 
Pass—and our friends are butchered in their sleep—P. 46, 11. 810-830. Hector and the Guard.]—There is intentional colour here—the impulsive half-barbaric rage of Hector, the oriental grovelling of the Guard, and of course the quick return to courteous self-mastery with which Hector receives the taunts of the wounded man. 810
 
And then pass back unwounded, laughing deep
 
Amid the galleys at the news they bring
 
Of Trojan sluggards and the fool their king?
 
Great God, ye never baulked them as they came,
 
Nor smote them as they went!
 
Who bears the blame
 
Of this but thou? Thou wast the watcher set
 
To guard this host till morn. I tell thee yet 815
 
For this deed—I have sworn by Zeus our Lord !—
 
The scourge of torment or the headsman’s sword
 
Awaits thee. Else, be Hector in your thought
 
Writ down a babbler and a man of nought.

Pusula

Üyelik

Dil ve Tema

Dil Seçimi
TR EN
Tema Seçimi