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Bezig met laden... Nine Greek Dramas by Æschylus, Sophocles, Euripides and Aristophanesdoor Charles William Eliot (Redacteur), Aristophanes (Medewerker), Æschylus (Medewerker), Euripides (Medewerker), Sophocles (Medewerker)
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Onderdeel van de uitgeversreeks(en)Harvard Classics (08) Is opgenomen inThe Harvard Classics with Lectures [51 volumes] door Charles William Eliot (indirect) BevatAgamemnoon door Aeschylus Goede geesten door Aeschylus Prometheus door Aeschylus Koning Oidipous door Sophocles
Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: (EDIPUS THE KING OF SOPHOCLES DRAMATIS PERSONS CEDIPUS, King of Thebes Messenger from Corinth Creon, brother of Jocasta Shepherd Teiresias, a soothsayer Second Messenger Priest of Zeus Jocasta, wife of CEoirus Chorus of Priest and Suppliants Scene?Thebes. In the background, the palace of CEoiPus; in front, the altar of Zeus, Priests and Boys round it in the attitude of suppliants. Enter Cedipus CEdipus. HY sit ye here, my children, brood last reared Of Cadmus famed of old, in solemn state, Uplifting in your hands the suppliants' boughs? And all the city reeks with incense smoke, And all re-echoes with your wailing hymns; And I, my children, counting it unmeet To hear report from others, I have come Myself, whom all name (Edipus the Great.? Do thou, then, aged Sire, since thine the right To speak for these, tell clearly why ye stand Awe-stricken, or adoring; speak to me As willing helper. Dull and cold this heart To see you prostrate thus, and feel no ruth. Priest. Yes, CEdipus, thou ruler of my land, Thou seest us how we sit, as suppliants, bowed Around thine altars; some as yet unfledged To wing their flight, and some weighed down with age. Priests, I, of Zeus, and these the chosen youth: And in the open spaces of the town The people sit and wail, with wreath in hand, By the twin shrine of Pallas, or the grove Oracular that bears Ismenus' name. For this our city, as thine eyes may see, Is sorely tempest-tossed, nor lifts its head From out the surging sea of blood-flecked waves, All smitten in the fruitful blooms of earth, All smitten in the herds that graze the fields, Yea, and in timeless births of woman's fruit; And still the God sends forth his darts of fire, And lays us low. The plague, abhorred and fea... Geen bibliotheekbeschrijvingen gevonden. |
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Google Books — Bezig met laden... GenresDewey Decimale Classificatie (DDC)808.8Literature By Topic Rhetoric and anthologies Anthologies & CollectionsLC-classificatieWaarderingGemiddelde:
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