§731puerone parcit an scelus sceleri ingerit?
Does he spare the boy, or does he heap crime upon crime?
§732Silva iubatus qualis Armenia leo §733in caede multa victor armento incubat §734(cruore rictus madidus et pulsa fame §735non ponit iras: hinc et hinc tauros premens §736vitulis minatur dente iam lasso piger), §737non aliter Atreus saevit atque ira tumet, §738ferrumque gemina caede perfusum tenens, §739oblitus in quem fureret, infesta manu §740exegit ultra corpus— ut pueri statim §741pectore receptus ensis in tergo extitit; §742cadit ille et aras sanguine extinguens suo §743per utrumque vulnus moritur.
Just as a maned Armenian lion, victorious amid much slaughter, falls upon the herd (his jaws wet with blood, and though his hunger is banished, he does not lay aside his rage: pressing the bulls this side and that, he threatens the calves, though sluggish with an already weary tooth), no differently does Atreus rage and swell with anger, and holding the iron drenched with double slaughter, forgetful of whom he was raging against, with hostile hand drove it right through the body—so that the sword, received at once by the boy's chest, stood out in his back; he falls, extinguishing the altars with his own blood, and dies through both wounds.
§743bO saevum scelus!
Chorus: O savage crime!
Messenger: Did you shudder? If the crime stops here, he is pious.
Chorus: Does nature admit anything greater or more atrocious beyond this?
§746bSceleris hunc finem putas?
Messenger: Do you think this is the end of the crime?
§747gradus est.
It is but a step.
Chorus: What more could he do? Perhaps he cast the bodies to wild beasts to be torn, and withheld them from the fire?
§749Vtinam arcuisset! ne tegat functos humus §750nec solvat ignis! avibus epulandos licet §751ferisque triste pabulum saevis trahat— §752votum est sub hoc quod esse supplicium solet: §753pater insepultos spectet! o nullo scelus §754credibile in aevo quodque posteritas neget—
Messenger: Would that he had withheld them! Let not the earth cover the dead, nor fire consume them! Though he might drag them as sad food for birds to feast upon and savage beasts— under this, what is accustomed to be a punishment is a prayer: 'Let the father look upon them unburied!' O crime credible in no age, and one which posterity will deny!
§755erepta vivis exta pectoribus tremunt §756spirantque venae corque adhuc pavidum salit; §757at ille libras tractat ac fata inspicit §758et adhuc calentes viscerum venas notat.
The entrails torn from living breasts tremble, and the veins breathe, and the heart still leaps in fear; but he handles the weights and inspects the fates, and notes the still warm veins of the viscera.
§759postquam hostiae placuere, securus vacat §760iam fratris epulis: ipse divisum secat §761in membra corpus, amputat trunco tenus §762umeros patentis et lacertorum. moras, §763denudat artus durus atque ossa amputat; §764tantum ora servat et datas fidei manus.
After the victims pleased him, untroubled he now devotes himself to his brother's feast: he himself cuts the divided body into limbs, severs from the trunk the broad shoulders and the joints of the arms, hard-heartedly strips the limbs and cuts away the bones; only the faces he preserves, and the hands given in pledge of faith.
§765haec veribus' haerent viscera et lentis data §766stillant caminis, illa flammatus latex §767querente aeno iactat, impositas dapes
These parts of the flesh cling to spits and, set over slow fires, drip in the hearths; those parts the boiling water tosses in the complaining cauldron.
§768transiluit ignis inque trepidantes focos §769bis ter regestus et pati iussus moram §770invitus ardet, stridet in veribus iecur; §771nec facile dicam, corpora an flammae magis §772gemuere.
The fire leaps over the food placed upon it, and though flung back two or three times into the trembling hearths and ordered to endure the delay, burns unwillingly; the liver screeches on the spits; nor could I easily say whether the bodies or the flames groaned more.
piceos ignis in fumos abit; §773et ipse fumus, tristis ac nebula gravis, §774non rectus exit seque in excelsum levat: §775ipsos penates nube deformi obsidet.
The fire goes off into pitchy smoke; and the smoke itself, gloomy and a heavy mist, not straight does it go out and lift itself into the heights: it besets the very household gods with an ugly cloud.
§776O Phoebe patiens, fugeris retro licet §777medioque ruptum merseris caelo diem. §778sero occidisti.
O enduring Phoebus, though you have fled backward and submerged the broken day in mid-heaven, you set too late.
lancinat gnatos pater §779artusque mandit ore funesto suos; §780nitet fluente madidus unguento comam §781gravisque vino; saepe praeclusae cibum §782tenuere fauces— in malis unum hoc tuis §783bonum est, Thyesta, quod mala ignoras tua.
The father tears his sons and chews his own limbs with fatal mouth; he shines, his hair wet with dripping ointment, heavy with wine; often his choked throat held back the food—in your evils, Thyestes, this one thing is good, that you do not know your own evils.
§784sed et hoc peribit, verterit currus licet §785sibi ipse Titan obvium ducens iter §786tenebrisque facinus obruat tetrum novis §787nox missa ab ortu tempore alieno gravis,
But even this will perish: though Titan himself should turn his chariot, leading his path in the opposite direction, and a heavy night sent from the east at an unseasonable time should overwhelm this foul deed with strange darkness, yet it must be seen.
§788tamen videndum est. tota patefient mala.
All the evils will be laid bare.
§789Quo terrarum superumque parem, §790cuius ad ortus noctis opacae §791decus omne fugit, quo vertis iter §792medioque diem perdis Olympo?
Chorus: Whither, O father of the lands and of the gods above, at whose rising all the beauty of dark night flees, whither do you turn your path and destroy the day in the midst of Olympus?
§793cur, Phoebe, tuos rapis aspectus?
Why, Phoebus, do you snatch away your sight?
§794nondum serae nuntius horae §795nocturna vocat lumina Vesper; §796nondum Hesperiae flexura rotae §797iubet emeritos solvere currus; §798nondum in noctem vergente die §799tertia misit bucina signum: §800stupet ad subitae tempora cenae §801nondum fessis bubus arator,
Not yet does Vesper, messenger of the late hour, call the nightly lights; not yet does the turn of the Hesperian wheel command you to unyoke your weary chariot; not yet, with the day turning toward night, has the third trumpet sent its signal; at the hour of a sudden dinner the plowman is amazed, while his oxen are not yet weary.
§802quid te aetherio pepulit cursu?
What has driven you from your heavenly course?
What cause has cast down your horses from their fixed path?
Is it that, the prison of Dis being opened, the conquered Giants are attempting war?
Does Tityos, wounded in his weary breast, renew his ancient rages?
Has Typhoeus, throwing off the mountain, stretched out his side?
§810numquid struitur via Phlegraeos §811alta per hostes et Thessalicum §812Thressa premitur Pelion Ossa?
Is a high road being built by the Phlegraean enemies, and is Thessalian Pelion pressed down by Thracian Ossa?
§813solitae mundi periere vices?
Have the accustomed turnings of the world perished?
§814nihil occasus, nihil ortus erit?
Will there be no setting, no rising?
§815stupet Eoos §816assueta deo tradere frenos §817genetrix primae roscida lucis §818perversa sui limina regni; §818bnescit fessos §819tinguere currus nec fumantes §820sudore iubas mergere ponto.
The dewy mother of the first light, accustomed to hand the eastern reins to the god, is amazed at the inverted thresholds of her kingdom; she knows not how to bathe the weary chariot, nor to submerge the manes smoking with sweat in the ocean.
§821ipse insueto novus hospitio §822Sol Auroram videt occiduus, §823tenebrasque iubet surgere nondum §824nocte parata: non succedunt §825astra nec ullo micat igne polus, §826non Luna gravis digerit umbras.
The setting Sun himself, new to this unaccustomed hospitality, beholds Aurora, and commands the darkness to rise, though night is not yet ready: the stars do not follow, nor does the pole flash with any fire, nor does the heavy Moon disperse the shadows.