The Vision Of Cassandra
RA Phoebus Apollo!
US Hark! The lips at last unlocking.
RA Phoebus!
Phoebus!
US Well, what of Phoebus, maiden? though a name 'Tis but disparagement to call upon In misery.
RA Apollo!
Apollo!
Again! Oh, the burning arrow through the brain! Phoebus Apollo!
Apollo!
US Seemingly Possessed indeed--whether by--
RA Phoebus!
Phoebus! Through trampled ashes, blood, and fiery rain, Over water seething, and behind the breathing War-horse in the darkness--till you rose again, Took the helm--took the rein--
US As one that half asleep at dawn recalls A night of Horror!
RA Hither, whither,
Phoebus?
And with whom, Leading me, lighting me--
US I can answer that--
RA Down to what slaughter-house! Foh! the smell of carnage through the door Scares me from it--drags me toward it-- Phoebus Apollo!
Apollo!
US One of the dismal prophet-pack, it seems, That hunt the trail of blood.
But here at fault-- This is no den of slaughter, but the house Of Agamemnon.
RA Down upon the towers, Phantoms of two mangled children hover--and a famished man, At an empty table glaring, seizes and devours!
US Thyestes and his children!
Strange enough For any maiden from abroad to know, Or, knowing--
RA And look! in the chamber below The terrible Woman, listening, watching, Under a mask, preparing the blow In the fold of her robe--
US Nay, but again at fault: For in the tragic story of this House-- Unless, indeed the fatal Helen--No woman--
RA No Woman--Tisiphone!
Daughter Of Tartarus--love-grinning Woman above, Dragon-tailed under--honey-tongued,
Harpy-clawed, Into the glittering meshes of slaughter She wheedles, entices him into the poisonous Fold of the serpent--
US Peace, mad woman, peace! Whose stony lips once open vomit out Such uncouth horrors.
RA I tell you the lioness Slaughters the Lion asleep; and lifting Her blood-dripping fangs buried deep in his mane, Glaring about her insatiable, bellowing, Bounds hither--Phoebus Apollo,
Apollo,
Apollo! Whither have you led me, under night alive with fire, Through the trampled ashes of the city of my sire, From my slaughtered kinsmen, fallen throne, insulted shrine, Slave-like to be butchered, the daughter of a royal line!
Aeschylus Aeschylus
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