Thou shalt learn — late taught, certes — to be modest. CHOROS.Greatly-intending thou art:Much-mindful, too, hast thou cried(Since thy mind, with its slaughter-outpouring part,Is frantic) that over the eyes, a patchOf blood — with blood to match —Is plain for a pride!Yet still, bereft of friends, thy fateIs — blow with blow to expiate!

KLUTAIMNESTRA.And this thou hearest — of my oaths, just warrant!By who fulfilled things for my daughter, Justice,Até, Erinus, — by whose help I slew him, —Not mine the fancy — Fear will tread my palaceSo long as on my hearth there burns a fire,Aigisthos as before well-caring for me;Since he to me is shield, no small, of boldness.Here does he lie — outrager of this female,Dainty of all the Chruseids under Ilion;And she — the captive, the soothsayer alsoAnd couchmate of this man, oracle-speaker,