Clytemnestra.
Yield thee; thy will bend willingly to mine.
Agamemnon.
If thou wilt have it so, let one with speed
These buskins loosen, vassals of the foot;
Lest, if with them sea-tinctured robes I tread,
Some jealous eye of gods smite me from far. 920
For much it shameth me, with wanton feet
To mar this wealth of silver-purchased web.
Of this enough. This stranger damsel now
Kindly receive. Zeus, with propitious eye,
Beholds the victor's sway with mercy crowned.
For willingly none bears the captive yoke;
But she, the chosen flower of many a spoil,
Fair present from the host, hath followed me.
But since herein I yield me to thy will,
Treading on purple to my halls I go. 930
Clytemnestra.
A sea there is (which who may drain?) that breeds
Abundant purple, fresh from many a shell,
Precious as silver, brilliant dye of robes,
Whereof, through favour of the gods, these halls
May boast, O King, a store right plentiful;
And poverty is stranger to our house
Trampling of many garments had I vowed,
Had thus the oracles our house enjoined,
Ransom devising for this precious life.
For while the root lives on, the leafage spreads,
