_Chor._ Ah me, would death might come Quickly, with no sharp throe of agony, Nor long bed-ridden pain, Bringing the endless sleep; Since he, the watchman most benign of all, Hath now been smitten low, And by a woman's means hath much endured, And at a woman's hand hath lost his life! STROPHE II Alas! alas! O Helen, evil-souled, 1430 Who, though but one, hast slain Many, yea, very many lives at Troïa.[388] · · · · · STROPHE III *But now for blood that may not be washed out *Thou hast to full bloom brought *A deed of guilt for ever memorable, For strife was in the house, Wrought out in fullest strength, Woe for a husband's life. STROPHE IV _Clytæm._ Nay, pray not thou for destiny of death, Oppressed with what thou see'st; Nor turn thou against Helena thy wrath, 1440 As though she murderess were, And, though but one, had many Danaï's souls Brought low in death, and wrought o'erwhelming woe. ANTISTROPHE I _Chor._ O Power that dost attack Our palace and the two Tantalidæ,[389] *And dost through women wield *A might that grieves my heart![390] And o'er the body, like a raven foul, Against all laws of right, *Standing, she boasteth in her pride of heart[391] That she can chant her pæan hymn of praise. 1450 ANTISTROPHE IV _Clytæm._ Now thou dost guide aright thy speech and thought, Invoking that dread Power, *The thrice-gorged evil genius of this house; For he it is who feeds In the heart's depth the raging lust of blood: Ere the old wound is healed, new bloodshed comes. STROPHE V _Chor._ Yes, of a Power thou tell'st *Mighty and very wrathful to this house; Ah me! ah me! an evil tale enough 1460 Of baleful chance of doom, Insatiable of ill: Yet, ah! it is through Zeus, The all-appointing and all-working One; For what with mortal men Is wrought apart from Zeus? What of all this is not by God decreed?[392] STROPHE VI Ah me! ah me! My king, my king, how shall I weep for thee? What shall I speak from heart that truly loves? And now thou liest there, breathing out thy life, 1470 In impious deed of death, In this fell spider's web,— STROPHE VII (Yes, woe is me! woe, woe! Woe for this couch of thine dishonourable!)— Slain by a subtle death,[393] With sword two-edged which her right hand did wield. STROPHE VIII