Lo! the tenth year now is passing {40} Since, of Priam great avengers, Menelaos, Agamemnon, Double-throned and double-sceptred, Power from sovran Zeus deriving-- Mighty pair of the Atreidae-- Raised a fleet of thousand vessels Of the Argives from our country, Potent helpers in their warfare, Shouting cry of Ares fiercely; E'en as vultures shriek who hover, Wheeling, whirling o'er their eyrie, {50} In wild sorrow for their nestlings, With their oars of stout wings rowing, Having lost the toil that bound them To their callow fledglings' couches. But on high One--or Apollo, Zeus, or Pan,--the shrill cry hearing, Cry of birds that are his clients, Sendeth forth on men transgressing Erinnys, slow but sure avenger; So against young Alexandros Atreus' sons the Great King sendeth, Zeus, of host and guest protector: {60} He, for bride with many a lover, Will to Danai give and Troians Many conflicts, men's limbs straining, When the knee in dust is crouching, And the spear-shaft in the onset Of the battle snaps asunder. But as things are now, so are they, So, as destined, shall the end be. Nor by tears nor yet libations Shall he soothe the wrath unbending {70} Caused by sacred rites left fireless. They are going on to soliloquize how they themselves have been shut out of the glorious expedition, for, in matters of War, old age is but a return to boyhood; when {82} _The Chorus-Procession having reached the Thymele, turn towards the Stage. Meanwhile the great Central Door of the Stage has opened, and a solemn Procession filed out on the Stage, consisting of the Queen and her Attendants, bearing torches and incense, and offerings for the Gods; they have during the Choral Procession silently advanced to the different Statues along the front of the Palace, made offerings and commenced the sacrificial riles. When the Chorus turn towards the Stage, the whole Scene is ablaze with fires and trembling with clouds of incense, rich unguents perfume the whole Theatre, while a solemn Religious ritual is being celebrated in dumb show._ _The Chorus_ break off their Processional Chant [_keeping the same rhythm_] to enquire what is the meaning of these solemn rites, and whether the Queen can solve their doubt, which wavers between hope and foreboding: _The Queen signifying, by a gesture, that the Ritual must not be interrupted by speech, the Chorus proceed to take their regular position round the Thymele, and address themselves to their_ {104} PRELUDE _the Music, Poetry, and Gesture-dance changing from a March to a highly Lyrical rhythm; the evolutions of the Dance taking Right and Left hand directions, but without the Chorus quitting their position round the Altar_.[1] _Strophe: during which the evolutions take a Right Hand direction._