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 afterWoe, and still worse woe, bawling in the household!And truly, if so many wounds had chanced onMy husband here, as homeward used to dribbleReport, he’s pierced more than a net to speak of!While, were he dying (as the words abounded)A triple-bodied Geruon the Second,Plenty above — for loads below I count not —Of earth a three-share cloak he’d boast of taking,