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Translated by E. Coleridge.
51 pages - You are on Page 40
Hermione: As for my marriage, my father must look to it; 'tis not
for me to decide. Yes, take me hence as soon as may be, lest my husband
come back to his house before I am gone, or Peleus hear that I am
deserting his son's abode and pursue me with his swift steeds.
Orestes: Rest easy about the old man's power; and, as for Achilles'
son with all his insolence to me, never fear him; such a crafty net
this hand hath woven and set for his death with knots that none can
loose; whereof I will not speak before the time, but, when my plot
begins to work, Delphi's rock will witness it. If but my allies in
the Pythian land abide by their oaths, this same murderer of his mother
will show that no one else shall marry thee my rightful bride. To
his cost will he demand satisfaction of King Phoebus for his father's
blood; nor shall his repentance avail him though he is now submitting
to the god. No! he shall perish miserably by Apollo's hand and my
false accusations; so shall he find out my enmity. For the deity upsets
the fortune of them that hate him, and suffers them not to be high-minded.
(Orestes and Hermione depart.)
Chorus: (singing, strophe 1)
O Phoebus! who didst fence the hill of Ilium with a fair coronal
of towers, and thou, ocean-god! coursing o'er the main with thy dark
steeds, wherefore did ye hand over in dishonour your own handiwork
to the war-god, master of the spear, abandoning Troy to wretchedness?
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