Five Great Greek Tragedies

Sophocles, Euripides, Aeschylus

• Éditeur: Dover Publications
• Année: 2015
• ISBN:
  9780486113883
• Sujet: Literature
• Sous-sujet: Drama

Five of the greatest, most studied, and most performed Greek tragedies, each in an outstanding translation, include Oedipus Rex and Electra by Sophocles (translated by George Young), in which the much-admired playwright explores the individual's search for truth and self-knowledge; Medea and Bacchae by Euripides (translated by Henry Hart Milman), favorites with modern audiences for their psychological subtlety and the humanity of their characters; and Prometheus Bound by Aeschylus (translated by George Thomson), a monumental work that examines relations between humans and the gods. Includes a selection from the Common Core State Standards Initiative: Oedipus Rex.

Oedipus Rex

SOPHOCLES

Characters

OEDIPUS , KING OF THEBES.

PRIEST of Zeus.

CREON , brother to Jocasta the Queen.

TIRESIAS , a Prophet, with the title of King.

A Messenger from Corinth.

An old Shepherd.

A Second Messenger, servant of Oedipus’ household.

JOCASTA the Queen, wife to Oedipus, formerly married to Laius, the last King.

The CHORUS is composed of Senators of Thebes.

Inhabitants of Thebes, Attendants.

A Boy leading Tiresias.

Oedipus Rex

Scene, before the Royal Palace at Thebes. Enter OEDIPUS; to him the Priest of Zeus, and Inhabitants of Thebes.

OEDIPUS

Children, you modern brood of Cadmus* old,

What mean you, sitting in your sessions here,

High-coronalled with votive olive-boughs,

While the whole city teems with incense-smoke,

And paean hymns, and sounds of woe the while?

Deeming unmeet, my children, this to learn

From others, by the mouth of messengers,

I have myself come hither, Oedipus,

Known far and wide by name. Do thou, old man,

Since ’tis thy privilege to speak for these,

Say in what case ye stand; if of alarm,

Or satisfaction with my readiness

To afford all aid; hard-hearted must I be,

Did I not pity such petitioners.

PRIEST

Great Oedipus, my country’s governor,

Thou seest our generations, who besiege

Thy altars here; some not yet strong enough

To flutter far; some priests, with weight of years

Heavy, myself of Zeus; and these, the flower

Of our young manhood; all the other folk

Sit, with like branches, in the market-place,

By the Ismenian hearth oracular*

And the twin shrines of Pallas.** Lo, the city

Labours—thyself art witness—over-deep

Already, powerless to uprear her head

Out of the abysses of a surge of blood;

Stricken in the budding harvest of her soil,

Stricken in her pastured herds, and barren travail

Of women; and He, the God with spear of fire,

Leaps on the city, a cruel pestilence,

And harries it; whereby the Cadmean home

Is all dispeopled, and with groan and wail

The blackness of the Grave made opulent.

Not that we count thee as the peer of Heaven,

I, nor these children, seat us at thy hearth;

But as of men found ...