Loose under, quick — foot’s serviceable carriage!And me, on these sea-products walking, may noGrudge from a distance, from the god’s eye, strike at!For great shame were my strewment-spoiling — richesSpoiling with feet, and silver-purchased textures!Of these things, thus then. But this female-strangerTenderly take inside! Who conquers mildlyGod, from afar, benignantly regardeth.For, willing, no one wears a yoke that’s servile:And she, of many valuables, outpickedThe flower, the army’s gift, myself has followed.So, — since to hear thee, I am brought about thus, —I go into the palace — purples treading.KLUTAIMNESTRA.There is the sea — and what man shall exhaust it? —Feeding much purple’s worth-its-weight-in-silverDye, ever fresh and fresh, our garments’ tincture;