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Admetus Adrastus ANTISTROPHE Argive arms aught Bacchus bear behold beneath bless'd blood breast breathe Cadmus CHORUS Creon CREU Creusa dames dares daughter dead dear death deed didst dost thou dreadful earth Erectheus Eteocles EURIP Euripides Ev’n exile eyes fate form'd friends gainst gates glory goddess gods grace Greece grief hallow'd hand hast thou hate hath hear heart hence Hippolytus honour Jocasta Jove king land light lord Maenades Medea Menoeceus mortal mother mournful never nuptial NURSE o'er OEDI oracle Pentheus PHAE Phoebus Pittheus Polynices queen rage reverence rites royal ruin shalt shrine sorrow soul spear stranger STROPHE tears Thebes thee Theseus thine thou art thou hast thou wilt thy house thy sons thy words Tiresias Troezene unhappy vengeance virgin voice wife wilt thou wish wouldst thou wretched Xuth Xuthus youth
Página 130 - No longer hold me up, hold me no longer ; Here lay me down : I have not strength to stand : Death is hard by, dark night creeps o'er my eyes. My children, O my children, now no more, Your mother is no more : farewell ! May you More happy see the golden light of heaven ! ADM.
Página 11 - These studies form the history of his life from the eighteenth i to the seventy-second year of his age, during which time he composed seventy-five tragedies, frequently retiring to his native Salamis, and there indulging his melancholy muse in a rude and gloomy cavern. His reputation was now so illustrious, that Archelaus, king of Macedonia, invited^ him to his court : this monarch to his many royal virtues added a fondness for literature and the muses, and had drawn to him from Greece many who excelled...
Página 113 - A branch of olive then I wreathed around thee, Pluck'd from that tree which from Minerva's rock First sprung; if it be there, it still retains Its verdure: for the foliage of that olive, Fresh in immortal beauty, never fades.
Página 136 - When, to avert his doom, His mother in the earth refused to lie ; Nor would his ancient father die To save his son from an untimely tomb ; Though the hand of time had spread Hoar hairs o'er each aged head ; In youth's fresh bloom, in beauty's radiant glow, The darksome way thou daredst to go. And for thy youthful lord's to give thy life. Be mine so true a wife, Though rare the lot : then should I prove...
Página 164 - ... she calls, Recalls their plighted hands, the firmest pledge Of mutual faith, and calls the gods to witness What a requital she from Jason finds. Of food regardless, and in sorrow sunk She lies, and melts in tears each tedious hour Since first she knew her lord had injured her; Nor lifts her eye, nor lifts her face from the earth, Deaf to her friends' entreaties as a rock, Or billow of the sea ; save when she turns Her snowy neck, and.
Página 157 - Her. Yet in my victory thou art victor with me. Adm. 'Tis nobly said ! yet let this woman go. Her. If she must go, she shall : but must she go? Adm. She must, if I incur not thy displeasure.
Página 11 - Euripides, after much and earnest invitation, at length complied with the king's request, and went to Pella, where he was received with every mark of esteem and honour. Archelaus knew how to value a man of modesty and learning, a lover of truth and virtue ; but he particularly admired the disinterestedness, the amiable candour, and gentleness of manners, which distinguished Euripides, and made him worthy of the liberality, the esteem, and affection of such a king.
Página 128 - Stretched her right hand ; nor was there one so mean To whom she spoke not, and admitted him To speak to her again. Within the house These are our griefs.
Página 130 - I honoured thee, And in exchange for thine my forfeit life Devoted ; now I die for thee, though free Not to have died, but from Thessalia's chiefs Preferring whom I pleased in royal state To have lived happy here : I had no will To live bereft of thee with these poor orphans; I die without reluctance, though the gifts Of youth are mine to make life grateful to me. Yet he that gave thee birth, and she that bore thee, Deserted thee, though well it had beseemed them With honour to have died for thee,...
Página 168 - Colehian : do her griefs (Say, reverend matron.) find no respite yet? From the door's opening valve I heard her voice. No pleasure in the sorrows of your house I take ; for deeds are done not grateful to me. Nur. This is no more a house ; all here is vanish'd, Nor leaves a trace behind. The monarch's house He makes his own ; while my unhappy mistress In her lone chamber melts her life away In tears, unmoved by all the arguments Urged by her friends to soothe her sorrowing soul.