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Achilles Aeschylus Agamemnon altar Antistrophe Apollo Argive Argolis Argos arms Athena Atreus Aulis bear blood Brauron brother brought Calchas child Chorus cleansing Clytemnestra dark daughter dead death Delos dost doth dreams Earth Electra Euripides evil eyes father foam Friendless genia GILBERT MURRAY goddess gods Greece Greek hand hate hath heard heart heaven Hellas Herdsman holy Iphi IPHIGENIA IN TAURIS King Thoas land Leader Leto live Lord maid Menelaus Messenger mortal mother Myrtilus o'er Odysseus Oenomaus Orestes and Pylades peace Pelops Phocis Phoebus pillar pity priestess rite ritual rocks sacrifice sail ship shore shrine slain slaughter slay slew stain stone stood story strangers Strophe sweet sword Symplegades tablet Tantalus Taurian Tauropole tears Temple thee thine thing thou art Thou hast thou wilt Troy Twas wings Women word Zeus
Page 66 - To rise upon wings and hold Straight on up the steeps of gold Where the joyous Sun in fire doth run, Till the wings should faint and fold O'er the house that was mine of old: Or watch where the glade below With a marriage dance doth glow, And a child will glide from her mother's side Out, out, where the dancers flow : As I did, long ago.
Page x - Yet they have none of the unreality that is usual in such figures. The shadow of madness and guilt hanging over Orestes makes a difference. At his first entrance, when danger is still far off, he is a mass of broken nerves ; he depends absolutely on Pylades. In the later scenes, when they are face to face with death, the underlying strength of the son of the Great King asserts itself and makes one understand why, for all his madness, Orestes is the chief, and Pylades only the devoted follower. Romantic...
Page 64 - Bird of the sea rocks, of the bursting spray, O halcyon bird, That wheelest crying, crying, on thy way ; Who knoweth grief can read the tale of thee : One love long lost, one song for ever heard And wings that sweep the sea.
Page 15 - Dost see her there? — And there — Oh, no one sees! — A she-dragon of Hell, and all her head Agape with fanged asps, to bite me dead. She hath no face, but somewhere from her cloak Bloweth a wind of fire and bloody smoke: The wings' beat fans it: in her arms, Ah see!
Page 7 - Thou seest this circuit wall Enormous? Must we climb the public stair, With all men watching? Shall we seek somewhere Some lock to pick, some secret bolt or bar — Of all which we know nothing ? Where we are, If one man mark us, if they see us prize The gate, or think of entrance anywise, 'Tis death.
Page 20 - A flash of the foam, a flash of the foam, A wave on the oarblade welling, And out they passed to the heart of the blue: A chariot shell that the wild winds drew. Is it for passion of gold they come, Or pride to make great their dwelling? For sweet is Hope, yea, to much mortal woe So sweet that none may turn from it nor go...
Page 22 - But lo, the twain whom Thoas sends, Their arms in bondage grasped sore; Strange offering this, to lay before The Goddess! Hold your peace, O friends. Onward, still onward, to this shrine They lead the first-fruits of the Greek. Twas true, the tale he came to speak, That watcher of the mountain kine. O holy one, if it afford Thee joy, what these men bring to thee, Take thou their sacrifice, which we, By law of Hellas, hold abhorred.
Page 44 - Twas a road My thoughts had turned. Speak on. — No need for us To question j we shall hear things marvellous. IPHIGENIA. Tell him that Artemis my soul did save, I wot not how, and to the altar gave A fawn instead ; the which my father slew, Not seeing, deeming that the sword he drew Struck me. But she had borne me far away And left me in this land. — I charge thee, say So much. It all is written on the scroll. PYLADES. An easy charge thou layest on my soul, A glad oath on thine own. I wait no...
Page 7 - O God, where hast thou brought me? what new snare Is this ? — I slew my mother, I avenged My father at thy bidding. I have ranged A homeless world, hunted by shapes of pain. . . . . . . We still have time to fly for home, Back to the galley quick, ere worse things come. PYLADES To fly we dare not, brother...
Page 19 - If ever mortal hand be dark with blood; Nay, touch a new-made mother or one slain In war, her ban is on him. 'Tis a stain She driveth from her outer walls; and then Herself doth drink this blood of slaughtered men ? Could ever Leto, she of the great King Beloved, be mother to so gross a thing ? These tales be lies, false as those feastings wild Of Tantalus and Gods that tore a child. This land of murderers to its god hath given Its own lust; evil dwelleth not in heaven.