_The Ritual on the Stage being now concluded, Clytaemnestra advances to the front. At the same moment the Choral Ode is finished and the Chorus take up their usual position during the Episodes, drawn up in two lilies in front of the Altar facing the Stage. They speak only by their Foreman (or Corypliceus), and use the ordinary Iambic Metre (equivalent to our Blank Verse)._ _The Foreman of the Chorus_ repeats his enquiries of Clytaemnestra as to the meaning of this sudden rejoicing, guardedly adding that it is his duty to pay respect to his lord's wife in his absence--_Clytaemnestra_ announces that Troy has been taken this last night--rapid interchange of stichomuthic dialogue, the Chorus expressing their amazement as to how the news could travel so fast. _Cho._ What herald could arrive with speed like this? _Clytaem._ Hephiestos flashing forth bright flames from Ida: Beacon to beacon from that courier-fire Sent on its tidings; Ida to the rock Hermaean named, in Lemnos: from the isle The height of Athos, dear to Zeus, received A third great torch of flame, and lifted up, So as on high to skim the broad sea's back, The stalwart fire rejoicing went its way; The pine wood, like a sun, sent forth its light Of golden radiance to Makistos' watch; And he, with no delay, nor unawares Conquered by sleep, performed his courier's part. Far off the torch-light to Euripos' straits Advancing, tells it to Messapion's guard: They, in their turn, lit up and passed it on, Kindling a pile of dry and aged heath. Still strong and fresh the torch, not yet grown dim, Leaping across Asopos' plain in guise Like a bright moon, towards Kithaeron's rock, Roused the next station of the courier flame. And that far-travelled light the sentries there Refused not, burning more than all yet named: And then the light swooped o'er Gorgopis' lake, And passing on to Aegiplanctos' mount, Bade the bright fire's due order tarry not; And they, enkindling boundless store, send on A mighty beard of flame, and then it passed The headland e'en that looks on Saron's gulf Still blazing. On it swept, until it came To Arachnaean heights, the watch-tower near; Then here on the Atreidae's roof it swoops, This light, of Ida's fire no doubtful heir. Such is the order of my torch-race games; One from another taking up the course, But here the winner is both first and last; And this sure proof and token now I tell thee, Seeing that my lord hath sent it me from Troia. {307}