The Agamemnon of Aeschylus |
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ÆGISTHUS Agamemnon altar ancient ANTISTROPHE Apollo Apollonius Rhodius Argive Athens Atreus beacon bear beautiful Blomfield blood Calchas CASSANDRA CHORUS CLYTEMNESTRA dark dead death deed Deianira e'en edition epithet Eschylus Euripides expression eyes fate father fire gainst Geryon Gods Greek ground heard heart Helen HERALD Hesychius horrid horror hypallage Jove king language lord Lycophron meaning Menelaus Messapian metaphor mighty mourning murder o'er original Pæan palace passage Pausanias Peitho play poet Potter prophetess queen rage reading rendered sacrifice Schutz SEMICHORUS sense soft song Sophocles soul Spanish Curate speak stands Stob Suidas sweet thee thou hast Thyestes tidings tongue towers tragedians translation Troy Twas unto whilst woman word wretched young ἄν γὰρ δὲ Εἰ εἰς ἐν ἐπὶ εὖ καὶ μὲν μὴ οἱ οὐ πρὸς τὰ τὴν τὸ τοῖς τὸν τοῦ τῶν
Popular passages
Page xxiv - Thyestes, which the sun refused to look on: the shadows of the dilacerated children appear to her on the battlements of the palace. She also sees the death prepared for her master, and although horror-struck at the atrocious spectacle, - as if seized with an overpowering fury, she rushes into the house to meet her inevitable death; we then hear behind the scenes the sighs of the dying Agamemnon.
Page xxiv - But Clytemnestra would have been improperly portrayed as a weak woman seduced from her duty; she appeared with the features of that heroic age, so rich in bloody catastrophes, in which all the passions were violent, and in which, both in good and evil, men exceeded the ordinary standard of later and more puny ages. What is so revolting, what affords such a deep proof of the degeneracy of human nature, as the spectacle of horrid...
Page 3 - Atreus' palace, from whose height I gaze O'er-watched and weary, like a night-dog still Fixed to my post : meanwhile the rolling year Moves on, and I my wakeful vigils keep By the cold starlight sheen of spangled skies.
Page 65 - E'en so to Paris' bed the lovely Helen came. But dark Erinnys, in the nuptial hour, Rose in the midst of all that bridal pomp, Seated midst the feasting throng, Amidst the revelry and song ; Erinnys, led by Xenius Jove, Into the halls of Priam's sons, Erinnys of the mournful bower, Where youthful brides weep sad in midnight hour.
Page xxii - ... the drama of the conquered and plundered city consigned as a prey to the flames, the joy of the victors, and the glory of their leader. He displays with reluctance, as if unwilling to shade the brilliancy of his...
Page xxv - Iphigenia has this particular advantage, that it keeps within some bounds our discontent at the fall of Agamemnon. He cannot be pronounced wholly innocent ; an earlier crime recoils on his own head ; and besides, according to the religious idea of the ancients, an old curse hung over his house...
Page 42 - On each man's threshold stand, On each sad hearth in Grecia's land. Well may her soul with grief be rent ; She well remembers whom she sent, She sees them not return : Instead of men, to each man's home Urns and ashes only come, And the armor which they wore, — Sad relics to their native shore. For Mars, the barterer of the lifeless clay, Who sells for gold the slain, And holds the scale, in battle's doubtful day, High balanced o'er the plain, From Ilium's walls for men returns Ashes and sepulchral...
Page 111 - tis all joy, and welcome home, sweet lord, The war is o'er, the merry feast's begun. Well, well, ye don't believe me — 'tis all one. For why ! what will be, will be ; time will come ; Ye will be there, and pity me, and say, ' She was indeed too true a prophetess.
Page xxiii - Clytemnestra greets him with hypocritical joy and veneration ; she orders her slaves to cover the ground with the most costly embroideries of purple, that it might not be touched by the foot of the conqueror. Agamemnon, with wise moderation, refuses to accept an honour due only to the gods ; at last he yields to her solicitations, and enters the palace.
Page 43 - My soul stands tiptoe with affright ; I stand like one with listening ear, Ready to catch the sound of fear ; And lift my eyes to see some sight Coming from the pall of night For Gods behold not unconccrn'd from high, When smoking slaughter mounts the sky, The mighty murd'rers of the direful plain.