Aeschylus' AGAMEMNON Complete

Translated by E. Morshead.

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96 pages - You are on Page 79

Leader: I marvel at thy tongue's audacity,
To vaunt thus loudly o'er a husband slain.

Clytemnestra: Ye hold me as a woman, weak of will,
And strive to sway me: but my heart is stout,
Nor fears to speak its uttermost to you,
Albeit ye know its message. Praise or blame,
Even as ye list,-- I reck not of your words.
Lo! at my feet lies Agamemnon slain,
My husband once-- and him this hand of mine,
A right contriver, fashioned for his death.
Behold the deed!

Chorus: (chanting) Woman, what deadly birth,
What venomed essence of the earth
Or dark distilment of the wave,
To thee such passion gave,
Nerving thine hand
To set upon thy brow this burning crown,
The curses of thy land?
Our king by thee cut off, hewn down!
Go forth-- they cry-- accurscd and forlorn,
To hate and scorn!

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