The Complete Plays of Sophocles: A New Translation
Sophocles, Robert Bagg, James Scully
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Award-winningpoet-playwrights Robert Bagg and James Scully presenta gripping new translation of Western literature’s earliest treasures in TheComplete Plays of Sophocles. In the tradition of Robert Fagles’bestselling translations of The Iliad and The Odyssey, andretaining the textual authenticity of Richmond Lattimore’sAeschylus, Bagg and Scully render Sophocles’ dramasaccessible and exciting for the modern reader. Students new to Athenian drama,readers of classical literature, and anyone wishing to kindle anew theirpassion for Greek tragedy will find no more captivating entrance to thesemilestones of world literature than in Bagg andScully’s The Complete Plays of Sophocles.
that certain men of Phocis seek Aegisthus. ELECTRA. Ah, woe is me! Surely you are not bringing the visible proofs of that rumor which we heard? ORESTES. I know nothing of your “rumor”; but the aged Strophius charged me with tidings of Orestes. ELECTRA. What are they, sir? Ah, how I thrill with fear! ORESTES. He is dead. In a small urn, as you see, we bring the scanty relics home. ELECTRA. Ah me unhappy! There at last before my eyes I see that woeful burden in your hands! ORESTES. If your
my course, as in the past so for the days to come. ATHENA. I know it, Odysseus, and came early on the path, a watcher friendly to your chase. ODYSSEUS. Dear mistress, is my toil to some purpose? ATHENA. Know that yonder man is the doer of these deeds. ODYSSEUS. Why was his insensate hand so fierce? ATHENA. In bitter wrath touching the arms of Achilles. ODYSSEUS. Why then this furious onslaught upon the flocks? ATHENA. It was in your blood, as he thought, that he was dyeing his hand.
helpless amid these miseries in which I live, such as you see and many that you have heard! Nay, spare a passing thought to me. Great is the discomfort, I well know, of such a freight, yet bear with it. To noble minds baseness is hateful and a good deed is glorious. Forsake this task and your fair name is sullied; perform it, my son, and a rich meed of glory will be yours if I return alive to Oeta’s land. Come, the trouble does not last one whole day; make the effort, take and thrust me where you
counselor. If anyone advises you, speaking with good will, you hate him, deeming him a foe who wishes you ill. Yet I will speak, calling Zeus to witness, who hears men’s oaths, and do you mark these words and write them in your heart. You suffer this sore plague by a heaven-sent doom, because you drew near Chryse’s watcher, the serpent, secret warder of her home, that guards her roofless sanctuary. Know that relief from this grievous sickness can never be your portion, so long as the sun still
spot where I may speak and listen within piety’s domain, and let us not wage war with necessity. CHORUS. There! Do not bend your steps beyond that floor of native rock. OEDIPUS. This far? CHORUS. Enough, I tell you. OEDIPUS. Shall I sit down? CHORUS. Yes, move sideways and crouch low on the edge of the rock. ANTIGONE. Father, this is my task. Knit step to quiet step— OEDIPUS. Ah me! Ah me! ANTIGONE. —and lean your aged frame upon my loving arms. (Seats OEDIPUS.) CHORUS. Ah, hapless one,