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    The Libation Bearers
    The Libation Bearers
    The Libation Bearers
    Ebook64 pages31 minutes

    The Libation Bearers

    By Aeschylus

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    Orestes arrives at the grave of his father, accompanied by his cousin Pylades, the son of the king of Phocis, where he has grown up in exile; he places two locks of his hair on the tomb. Orestes and Pylades hide as Electra, Orestes' sister, arrives at the grave accompanied by a chorus of elderly slave women (the libation bearers of the title) to pour libations on Agamemnon's grave; they have been sent by Clytemnestra in an effort to ward off harm. Just as the ritual ends, Electra spots a lock of hair on the tomb which she recognizes as similar to her own; subsequently she sees two sets of footprints, one of which has proportions similar to hers. At this point Orestes and Pylades emerge from their hiding place and Orestes gradually convinces her of his identity.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherInteractive Media
    Release dateOct 19, 2016
    ISBN9781911535690
    The Libation Bearers
    Author

    Aeschylus

    Aeschylus (c.525-455 B.C) was an ancient Greek playwright and solider. Scholars’ knowledge of the tragedy genre begins with Aeschylus’ work, and because of this, he is dubbed the “father of tragedy”. Aeschylus claimed his inspiration to become a writer stemmed from a dream he had in which the god Dionysus encouraged him to write a play. While it is estimated that he wrote just under one hundred plays, only seven of Aeschylus’ work was able to be recovered.

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    Reviews for The Libation Bearers

    3.5/5

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    • 5/5
      In this second part of the trilogy that began with Agamemnon, we see the continued tragedies that affect the house of Atreus. Orestes returns and carries out revenge on his mother and uncle. The issues dealt with include that conflicting part of the Greek religion -- carrying out justice for a family member but also killing a family member. Orestes hears from the chorus a dream had by his mother of her nursing a snake (dragon) that drinks all of her curdled blood. He returns as a stranger under the guise of announcing his own death. He slays Aegisthus immediately and his own mother after arguing the matter with her. At the end, he knows that the same curse of the family will now come after him. Biographical notes: Aeschylus lived from 525 to 456 BC. Like Socrates and other of his contemporaries, he fought at Marathon. He is considered the founder of Greek tragedy and won many competitions at these regular events. This trilogy is the only full trilogy remaining.
    • 4/5
      I read the Morshead translation on my Kindle, as part of "The House of Atreus" which is really The Oresteia with a different title as far as I can tell... I found this translation easier to understand than the Lattimore translation I used in reading the previous play in this trilogy, Agamemnon, but still challenging in places. However, I will strongly recommend the (British) National Theater production which is available on YouTube. Tony Harrison's translation is easier for the modern ear, and the production done in the ancient Greek style (masks, etc.) is powerful. Of course, it is best appreciated if you start with the first play of the trilogy, but if you are familiar with the story, this play stands on its own.

    Book preview

    The Libation Bearers - Aeschylus

    BEARERS

    THE LIBATION BEARERS

    DRAMATIS PERSONAE

    Orestes, son of Agamenon and Clytemnestra

    Chorus of Slave Women

    Electra, sister of Orestes

    A Nurse

    Clytemnestra

    Aegisthus

    An Attendant

    SCENE

    By the tomb of Agamemnon near the palace in Argos. Orestes and Pylades enter, dressed as travellers. Orestes carries two locks of hair in his hand.

    Orestes:

    Lord of the shades and patron of the realm

    That erst my father swayed, list now my prayer,

    Hermes, and save me with thine aiding arm,

    Me who from banishment returning stand

    On this my country; lo, my foot is set

    On this grave-mound, and herald-like, as thou,

    Once and again, I bid my father hear.

    And these twin locks, from mine head shorn, I bring,

    And one to Inachus the river-god,

    My young life’s nurturer, I dedicate,

    And one in sign of mourning unfulfilled

    I lay, though late, on this my father’s grave.

    For O my father, not beside thy corse

    Stood I to wail thy death, nor was my hand

    Stretched out to bear thee forth to burial.

    What sight is yonder? what this woman-throng

    Hitherward coming, by their sable garb

    Made manifest as mourners? What hath chanced?

    Doth some new sorrow hap within the home?

    Or rightly may I deem that they draw near

    Bearing libations, such as soothe the ire

    Of dead men angered, to my father’s grave?

    Nay, such they are indeed; for I descry

    Electra mine own sister pacing hither,

    In moody grief conspicuous. Grant, O Zeus,

    Grant me my father’s murder to avenge-

    Be thou my willing champion!

    Pylades,

    Pass we aside, till rightly I discern

    Wherefore these women throng in suppliance.

    Pylades and Orestes withdraw; the chorus enters bearing vessels for libation; Electra follows them; they pace slowly towards the tomb of Agamemnon.

    Chorus of Slave Women:

    strophe 1, singing

    Forth from the royal halls by high command

    I bear libations for the dead.

    Rings on my smitten breast my smiting hand,

    And all my cheek is rent and red,

    Fresh-furrowed by my nails, and all my soul

    This many a day doth feed on cries of dole.

    And trailing tatters of my vest,

    In looped and windowed raggedness forlorn,

    Hang rent around my breast,

    Even as I, by blows of Fate most stern

    Saddened and torn.

    antistrophe 1

    Oracular thro’ visions, ghastly clear,

    Bearing a blast of wrath from realms below,

    And stiffening each rising hair with dread,

    Came out of dream-land Fear,

    And, loud and awful, bade

    The shriek ring out at midnight’s witching hour,

    And brooded, stern with woe,

    Above the inner house, the woman’s bower

    And seers inspired did read the dream on oath,

    Chanting aloud In realms below

    The dead are wroth;

    Against their slayers yet their ire doth glow.

    strophe 2

    Therefore to bear this gift of graceless worth-

    O Earth, my nursing mother!-

    The woman god-accurs’d doth send me forth

    Lest one crime bring another.

    Ill is the very word to speak, for none

    Can ransom or atone

    For blood once shed and

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