Phrygian: Mother of Ida, mighty parent! Oh! the murderous scenes and
lawless wickedness that I witnessed in the royal palace! They drew
forth swords from under their purple cloaks, each darting his eye
all round him in either direction to see that none was near, and then,
like boars that range the hills, they stood at bay before her, crying,
"Thou must die; it is thy craven husband that will slay thee, because
he betrayed his brother's son to death in Argos." But she with piercing
screams brought down her snow-white arm upon her bosom and loudly
smote on her poor head; then turned her steps in flight, shod in her
golden shoon; but Orestes, outstripping her slippered feet, clutched
his fingers in her hair and bending back her neck on to her left shoulder
was on the point of driving the grim steel into her throat.
Chorus: Where were those Phrygians in the house to help her then?
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