A corned-up colt! but that bad friend in darkness,Famine its housemate, shall behold him gentle.CHOROS.Why then, this man here, from a coward spirit,Didst not thou slay thyself? But, — helped, — a woman,The country’s pest, and that of gods o’ the country,Killed him! Orestes, where may he see light now?That coming hither back, with gracious fortune,Of both these he may be the all-conquering slayer?