Orestes.
Fool! to think that I would brook with blood to stain me from thy throat,
Who art neither woman, neither found the ranks of men among!
Forth the palace I but came to curb the clamour of thy tongue,
For that swiftly roused is Argos if the rescue-cry she hear.1530
Menelaus—set him once at sword-length—nothing do I fear.
Hence with him,[1] with golden locks whose pride about his shoulders falls!
For, if he shall gather Argives, lead them on against these halls,
Claiming blood-revenge for Helen, nor from death will set me free,—
Yea, and Pylades my kinsman, who in all things wrought with me,—1535
Corpses twain, his maiden daughter and his wife, his eyes shall see.[Exit.
Chorus.
Ho, fortune, ho!—again, again,
The house into terrible conflict-strain
Breaks forth for the Atreïds' sake!
What shall we do?—to the city the tidings take?
Or keep we silence? Safer were this, O friends.1540
Lo there, lo there, where the smoke upleaping sends
Its token afront of the halls through air!
They will fire the palace of Tantalus!—glare
- ↑ Or "Let him come."
