Mythology, Greek -- Drama; Sophocles -- Translations into English
CH. O Hellas, how I grieve for thy distress!
How thou wilt mourn in losing him we see!
HYL. My father, since thy silence gives me leave,
Still hear me patiently, though in thy pain!
For my request is just. Lend me thy mind
Less wrathfully distempered than 'tis now;
Else thou canst never know, where thou art keen
With vain resentment and with vain desire
HER. Speak what thou wilt and cease, for I in pain
Catch not the sense of thy mysterious talk
HYL. I come to tell thee of my mother's case,
And her involuntary unconscious fault.
HER. Base villain! hast thou breathed thy mother's name,
Thy father's murderess, in my hearing too!
HYL. Her state requires not silence, but full speech.
HER. Her faults in former time might well be told.
HYL. So might her fault to day, couldst thou but know.
HER. Speak, but beware base words disgrace thee not.
HYL. List! She is dead even now with new-given wound.
HER. By whom? Thy words flash wonder through my woe.
HYL. Her own hand slaughtered her, no foreign stroke.
HER. Wretch! to have reft this office from my hands.
HYL. Even your rash spirit were softened, if you knew.
HER. This bodes some knavery. But declare thy thought!
HYL. She erred with good intent. The whole is said.
HER. Good, O thou villain, to destroy thy sire!
HYL. When she perceived that marriage in her home,
She erred, supposing to enchain thy love.
HER. Hath Trachis a magician of such might?
HYL. Long since the Centaur Nessus moved her mind
To work this charm for heightening thy desire.
HER. O horror, thou art here! I am no more.
My day is darkened, boy! Undone, undone!
I see our plight too plainly. woe is me!
Come, O my son! --thou hast no more a father,--
Call to me all the brethren of thy blood,
And poor Alcmena, wedded all in vain
Unto the Highest, that ye may hear me tell
With my last breath what prophecies I know.
HYL. Thy mother is not here, but by the shore
Of Tiryns hath obtained a dwelling-place;
And of thy sons, some she hath with her there,
And some inhabit Thebe's citadel.
But we who are with thee, sire, if there be aught
That may by us be done, will hear, and do.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account