The Complete Plays of Sophocles: A New Translation

The Complete Plays of Sophocles: A New Translation

Sophocles, Robert Bagg, James Scully

Language: English

Pages: 880

ISBN: 006202034X

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


Award-winningpoet-playwrights Robert Bagg and James Scully presenta gripping new translation of Western literature’s earliest treasures in TheComplete Plays of Sophocles. In the tradition of Robert Fagles’bestselling translations of The Iliad and The Odyssey, andretaining the textual authenticity of Richmond Lattimore’sAeschylus, Bagg and Scully render Sophocles’ dramasaccessible and exciting for the modern reader. Students new to Athenian drama,readers of classical literature, and anyone wishing to kindle anew theirpassion for Greek tragedy will find no more captivating entrance to thesemilestones of world literature than in Bagg andScully’s The Complete Plays of Sophocles.

Greek Comedy and Ideology

Death to Tyrants!: Ancient Greek Democracy and the Struggle against Tyranny

Wandering Poets in Ancient Greek Culture: Travel, Locality and Pan-Hellenism

A History of Greek Mathematics, Volume 2: From Aristarchus to Diophantus (Dover Books on Mathematics)

Sex and Punishment: Four Thousand Years of Judging Desire

Constructions of Childhood in Ancient Greece and Italy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

house! It is not for a skillful leech to whine charms over a sore that craves the knife. CHORUS. I am afraid when I mark this eager haste. I do not like the keen edge of your speech. TECMESSA. Ajax my lord, on what deed can your mind be set? AJAX. Do not ask, do not inquire; it is good to be discreet. TECMESSA. Ah, my heavy heart! Now by your child, by the gods, I implore you, do not be guilty of forsaking us! AJAX. You vex me over much. Do you not know that I no longer owe any service to

by. Aegisthus gloats over a covered body, which a moment’s reflection would suggest could not be Orestes (only ashes, not a whole body, would be carried across Greece), and finds it is Clytemnestra. The cruel repartee before Aegisthus uncovers the body is little short of ghoulish. A play which represents a man killing his own mother and her husband starts with the cheerful singing of birds and ends with congratulations on a good day’s work. Because Electra has so large a part it has been

Achaean, one from Sparta, two masters of yoked cars were Libyans; Orestes driving Thessalian mares came fifth among them; the sixth from Aetolia, with chestnut colts; a Magnesian was the seventh; the eighth, with white horses, was of Aenian stock; the ninth from Athens, built by the gods; there was a Boeotian too, making the tenth chariot. They took their stations where the appointed umpire placed them by lot and ranged the cars; then at the sound of the brazen trumpet they started. All shouted

this, as a piercing spasm clutched his lungs, he caught him by the foot, where the ankle turns in the socket, and hurled him at a surf-beaten rock in the sea; he made the white brain ooze from the hair, as the skull was dashed to splinters and spattered with blood. All the people lifted up a cry of awestruck grief when they saw that one man was in a frenzy and the other slain; and no one dared come before the man. The pain dragged him to earth, or made him leap into the air, with yells and

may inquire where we are: for we stand in need to learn, as strangers of natives, and to perform their bidding. ANTIGONE. Father, toil-worn Oedipus, the towers that guard the city, to judge by sight, are far off; and this place is sacred, to all seeming—thick-set with laurel, olive, vine; and in its heart a feathered choir of nightingales makes music. So sit here on this unhewn stone; you have traveled a long way for an old man. OEDIPUS. Seat me, then, and watch over the blind. ANTIGONE. If

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