The World's Greatest Books [Volumes 1-15, 17-20]
- Автор: Gutenberg
- Год: 1910
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Культурология
Электронная книга - «The World's Greatest Books [Volumes 1-15, 17-20]». Краткое содержание книги:
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 01 — Fiction от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 02 — Fiction от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 03 — Fiction от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 04 — Fiction от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 05 — Fiction от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 06 — Fiction от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 07 — Fiction от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 08 — Fiction от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 09 — Lives and Letters от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 10 — Lives and Letters от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 11 — Ancient and Mediæval History от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 12 — Modern History от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 13 — Religion and Philosophy от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 14 — Philosophy and Economics от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 15 — Science от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 17 — Poetry and Drama от Неизвестный
The world's greatest books от Mee, Arthur, 1875-1943, joint editor & Hammerton, John Alexander, Sir, 1871-1949, joint editor & McClure, S. S. (Samuel Sidney), 1857-1949, joint editor
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 19 — Travel and Adventure от Неизвестный
The World's Greatest Books — Volume 20 — Miscellaneous Literature and Index от Неизвестный
[Enter Teiresias, guided by a boy.
Creon : Say what new thing, Teiresias, brings thee here?
Teiresias : Know that thou walk'st on fortune's razoredge. The gods no more hear prayers of sacrifice, Nor own the flame that burns the victims' limbs. Nor do the birds give cry of omen good, But feed on carrion of a slaughtered corpse. Yield to the dead and outrage not the slain.
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Creon : That corpse ye shall not hide in any tomb; Not though the evil birds of Zeus should bear Their carrion morsels to the throne of God. I know your augurs' tricks for lucre's sake.
Teiresias: Know then, and know it well, that thou shalt see Not many winding circuits of the sun Before thou giv'st as quittance for the dead A corpse by thee begotten; for that thou Hast to the ground cast one that walked on earth, And foully placed within a sepulchre A living soul; and now thou keep'st from them, The gods below, the corpse of one unblest, Unwept, unhallowed. Therefore do they wait The slow though sure avengers of the grave, The dread Erinyes of the mighty gods. [Exit Teiresias.
Creon: What shall I do? Speak ye, and I'll obey.
Chorus : Go, then, and free the maiden from her tomb, And give a grave to him who lies exposed.
Creon : I, I myself, who bound her, now will loose her,
[Exit Creon.
Chorus: O thou of many names, Of that Cadmeian maid The glory and the joy Whom Zeus as offspring owns, Zeus thundering deep and loud; O thou who lead'st the band, The choral band of stars still breathing fire, Lord of the hymns of night, The child of highest Zeus! Appear, O king, With Thyian maidens wild, Who all night long in dance With frenzied chorus sing Thy praise, their Lord Iacchos.
[Enter Messenger.
Messenger : Ye men of Cadmos' and Amphion's house, Haemon lies dead and weltering in his blood.
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Chorus: By his own act or by his father's hand?
Messenger: His own, in wrath against his father's crime.
Chorus: Lo, Creon's wife comes, sad Eurydike.
[Enter Eurydike.
Eurydike : I heard your words; yet tell it me, Tell the tale once again.
Messenger : I'll tell thee, m'lady.
Even as we entered on the stone-paved home, Death's marriage-chamber for the ill-starred maid, We heard a shriek; and Creon cried aloud, " The voice of Haemon! Haste and search." We
searched, And in the furthest corner saw her hanging, A cord about her neck; and him we found Clasping her form in passionate embrace. Then Creon wailed, " Come forth, my son, my son! " And then the boy, with fierce, wild gleaming eyes, Glares at him, spits upon his face, and draws, Still without words, a sharp, two-handled sword; Fell on the point and drave it through his breast Full half its length, and clasping, yet alive, The maiden s arms still soft, he there bleeds out In broken gasps upon her frail white feet, Swift stream of bloody shower. So they lie Dead bridegroom with dead bride; and he has gained, Poor boy, his marriage rites in Hades' home.
[Exit Eurydike.
Chorus : Never a word of good or ill she spake; What does she mean? For silence hard, no less Than vain wild cries, is sign of bitter woe.
Messenger: Yea, there is terror in that silence hard. [Enter Creon, carrying H^emon's body.
Chorus: Lo, where the king himself draws nigh And in his hands he bears a record clear; No woe, if I may speak, by others caused, Himself the great offender.
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The World's Greatest Books
Creon : Woe for the sins of souls of evil mood, Stern, mighty to destroy! Oh, ye, who look on those of kindred race, The slayers and the slain,
Woe for mine own rash plans that prosper not! Woe for thee, son, but new in life's career And by a new fate dying! Woe, ah woe! Thou diest, thou art gone Not by thine own ill concert but by mine. !Ah me!
I learn the grievous lesson. On mine head God pressing sore hath smitten me and vexed In ways most rough and terrible—ah me ! Shattering my joy as trampled under foot.
[Enter another Messenger.
Messenger : More sorrows in thine house too soon, it seems, fThou need'st must come and see. Thy wife is dead.
Creon: Haven of death that none may pacify, Why dost thou whelm me thus ? Oh agony! Thou who dost speak woes horrible to tell, Thou tramplest on a man already slain. What sayest thou ? What new tiding dost thou bring ? My own wife's death, to crown my misery?
[The gates open and show the dead body of Eurydike. Here in my arms I bear what was my son; !And there, ah woe! I look upon the dead. Ah, wretched mother! ah, my son! my son!
Messenger : In frenzy wild she round the altar clung; And at the last she cried a bitter cry Against thy deeds, the murderer of thy son.
Creon : Will no one strike with sharp, two-edged sword A deadly blow ? Fearful my fate, alas! How did she strike the stroke that wrought her death ?
Messenger: With her own hand beneath her heart she stabbed,
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Sophocles
Hearing her son's most pitiable fate.
Creon : Ah me! the fault is mine; on no one else Of all that live the fearful guilt can come. But I, even I, did slay thee, woe is me! I, yes, I speak the truth. All near at hand Is turned to evil; and upon my head There falls a doom far worse than I can bear.
Chorus: Man's highest blessedness in wisdom stands; And in the things that touch the gods, 'tis best, In word or deed, to shun unholy pride. Great words of boasting bring great punishments, And to grey hairs teach wisdom at the last.
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TORQUATO TASSO Jerusalem Delivered
The pious arms I sing, and captain who The hallowed sepulchre of Jesus freed; Much did he both in field and council do, And much he suffered in the glorious deed; And Hell in vain opposed him, and in vain Af ric, allied with Asia, drew the sword: Since Heaven its favour gave him, and again His errant comrades to the cross restored.
Torquato Tasso, who was born at Sorrento, March it, 1544, and who died at Rome, April 25. 1595, though immortalized by his magnificent sacred epic, " Gerusalemme Liberata," was likewise author of many other beautiful works, both prose and poetic. His pastoral drama, " Aminta," is so exquisite that it alone would have secured him lasting fame. He was son of Bernardo Tasso, himself a poet of no mean reputation. Young Torquato, as a student, became a fine classical scholar. His life was full of romance and of pathos. His father was exiled and his mother entered a convent. He never saw her again. Though he entered the legal profession, he soon forsook it for literary pursuits, and spent much time in deeply studying philosophy. He gained the generous patronage of Alfonso II., sovereign Duke of Ferrara, at whose court was spent the happiest period of his life. But misery followed, the primary cause being a presumptuous passion for Leonora, sister of the Duke of Este. This was first encouraged and then sternly repulsed. Some historians, however, dispute the accuracy of this tradition; but, whatever the cause may have been, the poet became the victim of .profound melancholy, which Alfonso and his friends sought in vain to mitigate. In a paroxysm Tasso attempted to stab a domestic whom he took to be an enemy. Being placed under restraint, he escaped to his native Sorrento and recovered, but, wandering away, he quickly relapsed, and passed away in the prime of life.
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Six years had nearly passed since in the East The Christian host began their great crusade; By storm Nicaea they had won, nor ceased Till Antioch fell by art's strategic aid, Which they then held against the Persian; they Then took Tortosa from Judea's king; To winter's rigour afterwards gave way, Awaiting anxiously the coming spring.
The Supreme Being sends the archangel Gabriel to Godfred, who is encouraged to march without further delay on Jerusalem. Godfred delivers a speech, and this is followed by one from Peter the Hermit, after which Godfred is elected captain of the host. He at once reviews the troops, and they speedily commence their advance, which causes extreme consternation in the minds of the people of Jerusalem and their King Aladine, who prepares for resistance.