From The Agamemnon of Aeschylus Translated into English Rhyming Verse with Explanatory Notes by Aeschylus

Alas, thou art indeed fallen far astray! (LEADER: How could such deed be done? I see no way.) Yet know I not the Greek tongue all too well? (LEADER: Greek are the Delphic dooms, but hard to spell.) Ah! Ah! There! What a strange fire! It moves … It comes at me. O Wolf Apollo, mercy! O agony! … Why lies she with a wolf, this lioness lone, Two-handed, when the royal lion is gone? God, she will kill me! Like to them that brew Poison, I see her mingle for me too A separate vial in her wrath, and swear, Whetting her blade for him, that I must share His death … because, because he hath dragged me here! Oh, why these mockers at my throat? This gear Of wreathèd bands, this staff of prophecy? I mean to kill you first, before I die. Begone! (She tears off her prophetic habiliments; and presently throws them on the ground, and stamps on them.) Down to perdition! … Lie ye so? So I requite you! Now make rich in woe Some other Bird of Evil, me no more! (Coming to herself.) Ah, see! It is Apollo’s self, hath tore His crown from me! Who watched me long ago In this same prophet’s robe, by friend, by foe, All with one voice, all blinded, mocked to scorn: “A thing of dreams,” “a beggar-maid outworn,” Poor, starving and reviled, I endured all; And now the Seer, who called me till my call Was perfect, leads me to this last dismay…. ’Tis not the altar-stone where men did slay My father; ’tis a block, a block with gore Yet hot, that waits me, of one slain before. Yet not of God unheeded shall we lie. There cometh after, one who lifteth high The downfallen; a branch where blossometh A sire’s avenging and a mother’s death. Exiled and wandering, from this land outcast, One day He shall return, and set the last Crown on these sins that have his house downtrod. For, lo, there is a great oath sworn of God, His father’s upturned face shall guide him home. Why should I grieve? Why pity these men’s doom? I who have seen the City of Ilion Pass as she passed; and they who cast her down Have thus their end, as God gives judgement sure…. I go to drink my cup. I will endure To die. O Gates, Death-Gates, all hail to you! Only, pray God the blow be stricken true! Pray God, unagonized, with blood that flows Quick unto friendly death, these eyes may close!

Cassandra Monologue from The Agamemnon of Aeschylus Translated into English Rhyming Verse with Explanatory Notes

Rehearse Cassandra's monologue