酷兔英语

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Alack, alack, O sisters, we have toiled,
O much and vainly have we toiled and borne!

Vainly! and all we wrought the gods have foiled,
And turned us to scorn!

He hath slipped from the net, whom we chased: he hath 'scaped us
who should be our prey-

O'ermastered by slumber we sank, and our quarry hath stolen away!
antistrophe 1

Thou, child of the high God Zeus, Apollo, hast robbed us and
wronged;

Thou, a youth, hast down-trodden the right that to godship more
ancient belonged;

Thou hast cherished thy suppliant man; the slayer, the God-
forsaken,

The bane of a parent, by craft from out of our grasp thou hast
taken;

A god, thou hast stolen from us the avengers a matricide son-
And who shall consider thy deed and say, It is rightfully done?

strophe 2
The sound of chiding scorn

Came from the land of dream;
Deep to mine inmost heart I felt it thrill and burn,

Thrust as a strong-grasped goad, to urge
Onward the chariot's team.

Thrilled, chilled with bitter inward pain
I stand as one beneath the doomsman's scourge.

antistrophe 2
Shame on the younger gods who tread down right,

Sitting on thrones of might!
Woe on the altar of earth's central fane!

Clotted on step and shrine,
Behold, the guilt of blood, the ghastly stain!

strophe 3
Woe upon thee, Apollo! uncontrolled,

Unbidden, hast thou, prophet-god, imbrued
The pure propheticshrine with wrongful blood!

For thou too heinous a respect didst hold
Of man, too little heed of powers divine!

And us the Fates, the ancients of the earth,
Didst deem as nothing worth.

antistrophe 3
Scornful to me thou art, yet shalt not fend

My wrath from him; though unto hell he flee,
There too are we!

And he the blood-defiled, should feel and rue,
Though I were not, fiend-wrath that shall not end,

Descending on his head who foully slew.
(APOLLO enters from the inner shrine.)

APOLLO
Out! I command you. Out from this my home-

Haste, tarry not! Out from the mysticshrine,
Lest thy lot be to take into thy breast

The winged bright dart that from my golden string
Speeds hissing as a snake,-lest, pierced and thrilled

With agony, thou shouldst spew forth again
Black frothy heart's-blood, drawn from mortal men,

Belching the gory clots sucked forth from wounds.
These be no halls where such as you can prowl-

Go where men lay on men the doom of blood,
Heads lopped from necks, eyes from their spheres plucked out,

Hacked flesh, the flower of youthful seed crushed out,
Feet hewn away, and hands, and death beneath

The smiting stone, low moans and piteous
Of men impaled-Hark, hear ye for what feast

Ye hanker ever, and the loathing gods
Do spit upon your craving? Lo, your shape

Is all too fitted to your greed; the cave
Where lurks some lion, lapping gore, were home

More meet for you. Avaunt from sacredshrines,
Nor bring pollution by your touch on all

That nears yuu. Hence! and roam unshepherded-
No god there is to tend such herd as you.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS
O king Apollo, in our turn hear us.

Thou hast not only part in these ill things,
But art chief cause and doer of the same.

APOLLO
How? stretch thy speech to tell this, and have done.

LEADER
Thine oracle bade this man slay his mother.

APOLLO
I bade him quit his sire's death,-wherefore not?

LEADER
Then didst thou aid and guard red-handed crime.

APOLLO
Yea, and I bade him to this temple flee.

LEADIER
And yet forsooth dost chide us following him!,

APOLLO
Ay-not for you it is, to near this fane.

LEADER
Yet is such office ours, imposed by fate.

APOLLO
What office? vaunt the thing ye deem so fair.

LEADER
From home to home we chase the matricide.

APOLLO
What? to avenge a wife who slays her lord?

LEADER
That is not blood outpoured by kindred hands.

APOLLO
How darkly ye dishonour and annul

The troth to which the high accomplishers,
Hera and Zeus, do honour. Yea, and thus

Is Aphrodite to dishonour cast,
The queen of rapture unto mortal men.

Know, that above the marriage-bed ordained
For man and woman staddeth Right as guard,

Enhancing sanctity of trothplight sworn;
Therefore, if thou art placable to those

Who have their consort slain, nor will'st to turn
On them the eye of wrath, unjust art thou

In hounding to his doom the man who slew
His mother. Lo, I know thee full of wrath

Against one deed, but all too placable
Unto the other, minishing the crime.

But in this cause shall Pallas guard the right.
LEADER

Deem not my quest shall ever quit that man.
APOLLO

Follow then, make thee, double toil in vain
LEADER

Think not by speech mine office to curtail.
APOLLO

None hast thou, that I would accept of thee!
LEADER

Yea, high thine honour by the throne of Zeus:
But I, drawn on by scent of mother's blood,

Seek vengeance on this man and hound him down.
(The CHORUS goes in pursuit of ORESTES.)

APOLLO
But I will stand beside him; 'tis for me

To guard my suppliant: gods and men alike
Do dread the curse of such an one betrayed,

And in me Fear and Will say Leave him not.
(He goes into the temple.)

(The scene changes to Athens. In the foreground is the Temple
of ATHENA on the Acropolis; her statue stands in the

centre; ORESTES is seen clinging to it.)
ORESTES

Look on me, queen Athena; lo, I come
By Loxias' behest; thou of thy grace

Receive me, driven of avenging powers-
Not now a red-hand slayer unannealed,

But with guilt fading, half-effaced, outworn
On many homes and paths of mortal men.

For to the limit of each land, each sea,
I roamed, obedient to Apollo's best,

And come at last, O Goddess, to thy fane,
And clinging to thine image, bide my doom.

(The CHORUS OF FURIES enters, questing like hounds.)
LEADER OF THE CHORUS

Ho! clear is here the trace of him we seek:
Follow the track of blood, the silent sign!

Like to some hound that hunts a wounded fawn,
We snuff along the scent of dripping gore,

And inwardly we pant, for many a day
Toiling in chase that shall fordo the man;

For o'er and o'er the wide land have I ranged,
And o'er the wide sea, flying without wings,

Swift as a sail I pressed upon his track,
Who now hard by is crouching, well I wot,

For scent of mortal blood allures me here.
CHORUS (chanting)

Follow, seek him-round and round
Scent and snuff and scan the ground,

Lest unharmed he slip away,
He who did his mother slay!

Hist-he is there! See him his arms entwine
Around the image of the maid divine-

Thus aided, for the deed he wrought
Unto the judgment wills he to be brought.

It may not be! a mother's blood, poured forth
Upon the stained earth,

None gathers up: it lies-bear witness, Hell!-
For aye indelible

And thou who sheddest it shalt give thine own
That shedding to atone!

Yea, from thy living limbs I suck it out,
Red, clotted, gout by gout,-

A draught abhorred of men and gods; but
Will drain it, suck thee dry;

Yea, I will waste thee living, nerve and vein;
Yea, for thy mother slain,

Will drag thee downward, there where thou shalt dree
The weird of agony!

And thou and whosoe'er of men hath sinned-
Hath wronged or God, or friend,

Or parent,-learn ye how to all and each
The arm of doom can reach!

Sternly requiteth, in the world beneath,
The judgment-seat of Death;

Yea, Death, beholding every man's endeavour,
Recordeth it for ever.

ORESTES
I, schooled in many miseries, have learnt

How many refuges of cleansing shrines
And when imposeth silence. Lo, I stand

Fixed now to speak, for he whose word is wise
Commands the same. Look, how the stain of blood

Is dull upon mine hand and wastes away,


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