Leader: Alas, alas Now, methinks, the stock of our ancient masters
hath utterly perished, root and branch.
Clytemnestra: O Zeus, what shall I call these tidings,- glad tidings?
Or dire, but gainful? 'Tis a bitter lot, when mine own calamities
make the safety of my life.
Paedagogus: Why art thou so downcast, lady, at this news?
Clytemnestra: There is a strange power in motherhood; a mother may
be wronged, but she never learns to hate her child.
Paedagogus: Then it seems that we have come in vain.
Clytemnestra: Nay, not in vain; how canst thou say 'in vain,' when
thou hast brought an sure proofs of his death?- His, who sprang from
mine own life, yet, forsaking me who had suckled and reared him, became
an exile and an alien; and, after he went out of this land, he saw
me no more; but, charging me with the murder of his sire, he uttered
dread threats against me; so that neither by night nor by day could
sweet sleep cover mine eyes, but from moment to moment I lived in
fear of death. Now, however-since this day I am rid of terror from
him, and from this girl,- that worse plague who shared my home, while
still she drained my very life-blood,-now, methinks, for aught that
she can threaten, I shall pass my days in peace.