We, either burning or else cutting kindly,Will make endeavour to turn pain from sickness.And now into the domes and homes by altarGoing, I to the gods first raise the right-hand —They who, far sending, back again have brought me.And Victory, since she followed, fixed remain she! KLUTAIMNESTRA.Men, citizens, Argeians here, my worships!I shall not shame me, consort-loving mannersTo tell before you: for in time there dies offThe diffidence from people. Not from othersLearning, I of myself will tell the hard lifeI bore so long as this man was ’neath Ilion.First: for a woman, from the male divided,To sit at home alone, is monstrous evil —Hearing the many rumours back-revenging:And for now This to come, now That bring after