_Cass._ [_Again speaking wildly, as in an ecstasy._] Ah, woe is me! Woe's me! Oh, ills on ills! Again the dread pang of true prophet's gift With preludes of great evil dizzies me. See ye those children sitting on the house In fashion like to phantom forms of dreams? 1190 Infants who perished at their own kin's hands, Their palms filled full with meat of their own flesh, Loom on my sight, the heart and entrails bearing, (A sorry burden that!) on which of old Their father fed.[368] And in revenge for this, I say a lion, dwelling in his lair, With not a spark of courage, stay-at-home, Plots 'gainst my master, now he's home returned, (Yes mine—for still I must the slave's yoke bear;) And the ship's ruler, Ilion's conqueror, Knows not what things the tongue of that lewd bitch Has spoken and spun out in welcome smooth, 1200 And, like a secret Atè, will work out With dire success: thus 'tis she plans: the man Is murdered by the woman. By what name Shall I that loathèd monster rightly call? An Amphisbæna? or a Skylla dwelling[369] Among the rocks, the sailors' enemy? Hades' fierce raging mother, breathing out Against her friends a curse implacable? Ah, how she raised her cry, (oh, daring one!) As for the rout of battle, and she feigns To hail with joy her husband's safe return! And if thou dost not credit this, what then? What will be will. Soon, present, pitying me 1210 Thou'lt own I am too true a prophetess. _Chor._ Thyestes' banquet on his children's flesh I know and shudder at, and fear o'ercomes me, Hearing not counterfeits of fact, but truths; Yet in the rest I hear and miss my path. _Cass._ I say thou'lt witness Agamemnon's death. _Chor._ Hush, wretched woman, close those lips of thine! _Cass._ For this my speech no healing God's at hand. _Chor._ True, if it must be; but may God avert it! 1220 _Cass._ Thou utterest prayers, but others murder plot. _Chor._ And by what man is this dire evil wrought? _Cass._ Sure, thou hast seen my bodings all amiss. _Chor._ I see not his device who works the deed. _Cass._ And yet I speak the Hellenic tongue right well. _Chor._ So does the Pythian, yet her words are hard.