Æschylos Tragedies and Fragments. Aeschylus

counsel on the sons of Œdipus.

      Chor. What new disaster happens to our city?123

      Mess. The city's saved, but both the royal brothers…

      Chor. Who? and what of them? I'm distraught with fear.

      Mess. Be calm, and hear: the sons of Œdipus…

      Chor. Oh wretched me! a prophet I of ill!

      Mess. Slain by each other, earth has drunk their blood.

      Chor. Came they to that? 'Tis dire; yet tell it me.

      Mess. Too true, by brother's hand our chiefs are slain.

      Chor. What, did the brother's hands the brother lay?

      Mess. No doubt is there that they are laid in dust.

      Chor. Thus was there then a common fate for both?

      Mess. *Yea, it lays low the whole ill-fated race.

      Chor. These things give cause for gladness and for tears,

      Seeing that our city prospers, and our lords,

      The generals twain, with well-wrought Skythian steel,

      Have shared between them all their store of goods,

      And now shall have their portion in a grave,

      Borne on, as spake their father's grievous curse.124

      Mess. [The city's saved, but of the brother-kings

      The earth has drunk the blood, each slain by each.]

      Chor. Great Zeus! and ye, O Gods!

      Guardians of this our town,

      Who save in very deed

      The towers of Cadmos old,

      Shall I rejoice and shout

      Over the happy chance

      That frees our State from harm;

      Or weep that ill-starred pair,

      The war-chiefs, childless and most miserable,

      Who, true to that ill name

      Of Polyneikes, died in impious mood,

      Contending overmuch?

Strophe

      Oh dark, and all too true

      That curse of Œdipus and all his race,125

      An evil chill is falling on my heart,

      And, like a Thyiad wild,

      Over his grave I sing a dirge of grief,

      Hearing the dead have died by evil fate,

      Each in foul bloodshed steeped;

      Ah me! Ill-omened is the spear's accord.126

Antistrophe

      It hath wrought out its end,

      And hath not failed, that prayer the father poured;

      And Laios' reckless counsels work till now:

      I fear me for the State;

      The oracles have not yet lost their edge;

      O men of many sorrows, ye have wrought

      This deed incredible;

      Not now in word come woes most lamentable.

[As the Chorus are speaking, the bodies of Eteocles and Polyneikes are brought in solemn procession by Theban CitizensEpode

      Yea, it is all too clear,

      The herald's tale of woe comes full in sight;

      Twofold our cares, twin evils born of pride,

      Murderous, with double doom,

      Wrought unto full completeness all these ills.

      What shall I say? What else

      Are they than woes that make this house their home?

      But oh! my friends, ply, ply with swift, strong gale,

      That even stroke of hands upon your head,127

      In funeral order, such as evermore

      O'er Acheron sends on

      That bark of State, dark-rigged, accursed its voyage,

      Which nor Apollo visits nor the sun,128

      On to the shore unseen,

      The resting-place of all.

[Ismene and Antigone are seen approaching inmourning garments, followed by a procession ofwomen wailing and lamenting

      For see, they come to bitter deed called forth,

      Ismene and the maid Antigone,

      To wail their brothers' fall;

      With little doubt I deem,

      That they will pour from fond, deep-bosomed breasts

      A worthy strain of grief:

      But it is meet that we,

      Before we hear their cry,

      Should utter the harsh hymn Erinnys loves,

      And sing to Hades dark

      The Pæan of distress.

      O ye, most evil-fated in your kin,

      Of all who guard their robes with maiden's band,

      I weep and wail, and feigning know I none,

      That I should fail to speak

      My sorrow from my heart.

Strophe I

      Semi-Chor. A. Alas! alas!

      Men of stern mood, who would not list to friends,

      Unwearied in all ills,

      Seizing your father's house, O wretched ones

      With the spear's murderous point.

      Semi-Chor. B. Yea, wretched they who found a wretched doom,

      With havoc of the house.

Antistrophe I

      Semi-Chor. A. Alas! alas!

      Ye who laid low the ancient walls of home,

      On sovereignty, ill won,

      Your eyes have looked, and ye at last are brought

      To concord by the sword.

      Semi-Chor. B. Yea, of a truth, the curse of Œdipus

      Erinnys dread fulfils.

Strophe II

      Semi-Chor. A. Yea, smitten through the heart,

      Smitten through sides where flowed the blood of brothers.

      Ah me! ye doomed of God!

      Ah me! the curses dire

      Of deaths ye met with each at other's hands!

      Semi-Chor. B. Thou tell'st of men death-smitten through and through,

      Both in their homes and lives,

      With wrath beyond all speech,

      And doom of discord fell,

      That

123

I follow in this dialogue the arrangement which Paley adopts from Hermann.

125

Not here the curse uttered by Œdipus, but that which rested on him and all his kin. There is possibly an allusion to the curse which Pelops is said to have uttered against Laios when he stole his son Chrysippos. Comp. v. 837.

126

As in v. 763 we read of the brothers as made one in death, so now of the concord which is wrought out by conflict, the concord, i. e., of the grave.

127

The Chorus are called on to change their character, and to pass from the attitude of suppliants, with outstretched arms, to that of mourners at a funeral, beating on their breasts. But, perhaps, the call is addressed to the mourners who are seen approaching with Ismene and Antigone.

128

The thought is drawn from the theoris or pilgrim-ship, which went with snow-white sails, and accompanied by joyful pæans, on a solemn mission from Athens to Delos. In contrast with this type of joy, Æschylos draws the picture of the boat of Charon, which passes over the gloomy pool accompanied by the sighs and gestures of bitter lamentation. So, in the old Attic legend, the ship that annually carried seven youths and maidens to the Minotaur of Crete was conspicuous for its black sails.