By us, o’er sea and land the aery flyers,Troia at last taking, the band of ArgivesHang up such trophies to the gods of HellasWithin their domes — new glory to grow ancient!Such things men having heard must praise the cityAnd army-leaders: and the grace which wrought them —Of Zeus, shall honoured be. Thou hast my whole word. CHOROS.O’ercome by words, their sense I do not gainsay.For, aye this breeds youth in the old — to learn well.But these things most the house and KlutaimnestraConcern, ’t is likely: while they make me rich, too.KLUTAIMNESTRA.I shouted long ago, indeed, for joyance,When came that first night-messenger of fireProclaiming Ilion’s capture and dispersion.And someone, girding me, said, Through fire-bearersPersuaded — Troia to be sacked now, thinkest?Truly, the woman’s way, — high to lift heart up!By such words I was made seem wit-bewildered:Yet still I sacrificed; and, — female-song with, —A shout one man and other, through the city,