Opening Orestes — Euripides in Plato Scroll… Continue →
Euripides · E. P. Coleridge (1891), modernised by Perseus
Before the royal palace at Argos. Orestes lies sleeping on a couch in the background. There is nothing so terrible to describe, or suffering, or heaven-sent affliction, that human nature may not have to bear the burden of it. The blessed Tantalus—and I am not now taunting him with his misfortunes— Tantalus, the reputed son of Zeus, flies in the air, quailing at the rock which looms above his head; paying this penalty, they say, for the shameful weakness he displayed in failing to keep a bridle on his lips, when admitted by gods, though he was a man, to share the honors of their feasts like one of them. He begot Pelops, the father of Atreus, for whom the goddess, when she had carded her wool, spun a web of strife—to make war with his own brother Thyestes. But why need I retrace that hideous tale? Well, Atreus slew Thyestes’ children and feasted him on them. Atreus, now; I pass over …
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