Yea, like some witch
She drugs the cup of wrath, that slays her lord
With double death--his recompense for me!
She drugs the cup of wrath, that slays her lord
With double death--his recompense for me!
Aeschylus
CASSANDRA
'Tis Agamemnon's doom thou shalt behold.
CHORUS
Peace, hapless woman, to thy boding words!
CASSANDRA
Far from my speech stands he who sains and saves.
CHORUS
Ay--were such doom at hand--which God forbid!
CASSANDRA
Thou prayest idly--these move swift to slay.
CHORUS
What man prepares a deed of such despite?
CASSANDRA
Fool! thus to read amiss mine oracles.
CHORUS
Deviser and device are dark to me.
CASSANDRA
Dark! all too well I speak the Grecian tongue.
CHORUS
Ay--but in thine, as in Apollo's strains,
Familiar is the tongue, but dark the thought.
CASSANDRA
Ah ah the fire! it waxes, nears me now--
Woe, woe for me, Apollo of the dawn!
Lo, how the woman-thing, the lioness
Couched with the wolf--her noble mate afar--
Will slay me, slave forlorn!
Yea, like some witch
She drugs the cup of wrath, that slays her lord
With double death--his recompense for me!
Ay, 'tis for me, the prey he bore from Troy,
That she hath sworn his death, and edged the steel!
Ye wands, ye wreaths that cling around my neck,
Ye showed me prophetess yet scorned of all--
I stamp you into death, or e'er I die--
Down, to destruction!
Thus I stand revenged--
Go, crown some other with a prophet's woe.
Look! it is he, it is Apollo's self
Rending from me the prophet-robe he gave
God! while I wore it yet, thou saw'st me mocked
There at my home by each malicious mouth--
To all and each, an undivided scorn.
The name alike and fate of witch and cheat--
Woe, poverty, and famine--all I bore;
And at this last the god hath brought me here
Into death's toils, and what his love had made
His hate unmakes me now: and I shall stand
Not now before the altar of my home,
But me a slaughter-house and block of blood
Shall see hewn down, a reeking sacrifice.
Yet shall the gods have heed of me who die,
For by their will shall one requite my doom.
He, to avenge his father's blood outpoured,
Shall smite and slay with matricidal hand.
Ay, he shall come--tho' far away he roam,
A banished wanderer in a stranger's land--
To crown his kindred's edifice of ill,
Called home to vengeance by his father's fall:
Thus have the high gods sworn, and shall fulfil.
And now why mourn I, tarrying on earth,
Since first mine Ilion has found its fate
And I beheld, and those who won the wall
Pass to such issue as the gods ordain?
I too will pass and like them dare to die!
[_Turns and looks upon the palace door. _
Portal of Hades, thus I bid thee hail!
Grant me one boon--a swift and mortal stroke,
That all unwrung by pain, with ebbing blood
Shed forth in quiet death, I close mine eyes.
