Τρωάδες του Ευριπίδη
Στα πλαίσια της πρώτης διεθνικής κινητικότητας στην Ελλάδα παρουσιάστηκε από την ομάδα των μαθητών που συμμετέχουν στο πρόγραμμα απόσπασμα από την τραγωδία Τρωάδες του Ευριπίδη.
ΠΕΡΙΛΗΨΗ
Οι Τρωαδίτισσες, μετά τη σφαγή των συζύγων τους, οδηγούνται στη σκλαβιά μαζί με την Εκάβη, την Ανδρομάχη και την Κασσάνδρα, ως λάφυρα των Αχαιών. Ο Αστυάνακτας, γιος του Έκτορα, εκσφενδονίζεται από τον Νεοπτόλεμο από τους πύργους της Τροίας. Η πόλη ολόκληρη τυλίγεται στις φλόγες. Το υψηλό φρόνημα των γυναικών αντιπαρατίθεται στην έπαρση των νικητών Ελλήνων και αιωρείται έμμεσα το ερώτημα ποιος είναι πραγματικά ο νικητής και ποιος ο νικημένος.
Σ΄αυτή τη σκηνή παρακολουθείτε την Εκάβη, τη βασίλισσα της Τροίας, μαζί με το χορό, που αποτελείται από Τρωαδίτισσες αιχμάλωτες, να κλαίει τις δυστυχίες της αλλά και τις συμφορές που φέρνει ο πόλεμος.
Απόσπασμα από τις ΤΡΩΑΔΕΣ ΤΟΥ ΕΥΡΙΠΙΔΗ
HECUBA (Awakening) Lift thy head, unhappy lady, from the ground; thy neck upraise; this is Troy no more, no longer am I queen in Ilium. Though fortune change, endure thy lot; sail with the stream, and follow fortune's tack, steer not thy barque of life against the tide, since chance must guide thy course. Ah me! ah me! What else but tears is now my hapless lot, whose country, children, husband, all are lost? Ah! the high-blown pride of ancestors! how cabined now how brought to nothing after all What woe must I suppress, or what declare? What plaintive dirge shall I awake? Ah, woe is me! the anguish I suffer lying here stretched upon this pallet hard! O my head, my temples, my side! Ah! could I but turn over, and he now on this, now on that, to rest my back and spine, while ceaselessly my tearful wail ascends. Fore 'en this is music to the wretched, to chant their cheerless dirge of sorrow.
Ye swift-prowed ships, rowed to sacred Ilium o'er the deep dark sea, past the fair havens of Hellas, to the flute's ill-omened music and the dulcet voice of pipes, even to the bays of Troyland (alack the day!), wherein ye tied your hawsers, twisted handiwork from Egypt, in quest of that hateful wife of Menelaus, who brought disgrace on Castor, and on Eurotas foul reproach; murderess she of Priam, sire of fifty children, the cause why I, the hapless Hecuba, have wrecked my life upon this troublous strand. Oh that I should sit here o'er against the tent of Agamemnon Forth from my home to slavery they hale my aged frame, while from my head in piteous wise the hair is shorn for grief. Ah! hapless wives of those mail-clad sons of Troy! Ah! poor maidens, luckless brides, come weep, for Ilium is now but a ruin; and I, like some mother-bird that o're her fledglings screams, will begin the strain; how different from that song I sang to the gods in days long past, as I leaned on Priam's staff, and beat with my foot in Phrygian time to lead the dance! (Enter CHORUS OF CAPTIVE TROJAN WOMEN.)
SEMI-CHORUS O Hecuba why these cries, these piercing shrieks? What mean thy words? For I heard thy piteous wail echo through the building, and a pang terror shoots through each captive Trojan's breast, as pent within these walls they mourn their slavish lot.
HECUBA My child, e'en now the hands of Argive rowers are busy at their ships.
SEMI-CHORUS Ah, woe is me! what is their intent? Will they really bear me hence in sorrow from my country in their fleet?
HECUBA I know not, though I guess our doom.
SEMI-CHORUS O misery! woe to us Trojan dames, soon to hear the order given, "Come forth from the house; the Argives are preparing to return."
HECUBA Oh! do not bid the wild Cassandra leave her chamber, the frantic prophetess, for Argives to insult, nor to my griefs add yet another. Woe to thee, ill-fated Troy, thy sun is set; and woe to thy unhappy children, quick and dead alike, who are leaving thee behind!
SEMI-CHORUS II With trembling step, alas! I leave this tent of Agamemnon to learn of thee, my royal mistress, whether the Argives have resolved to take my wretched life, whether the sailors at the prow are making ready to ply their oars.
HECUBA My child, a fearful dread seized on my wakeful heart and sent me hither.
SEMI-CHORUS II Hath a herald from the Danai already come? To whom am I, poor captive, given as a slave?
HECUBA Thou art not far from being allotted now.
SEMI-CHORUS II Woe worth the day! What Argive or Phthiotian chief will bear me far from Troy, alas! unto his home, or haply to some island fastness?
HECUBA Ah me! ah me! Whose slave shall I become in my old age? in what far clime? a poor old drone, the wretched copy of a corpse, set to keep the gate or tend their children, I who once held royal rank in Troy.
