_Chor._ The man she slew was not one of blood with her.[517] _Orest._ And does my mother's blood then flow in me? _Chor._ E'en so; how else, O murderer, reared she thee Within her womb? Disown'st thou mother's blood? _Orest._ [_Turning to_ APOLLO.] Now bear thou witness, and declare to me, Apollo, if I slew her righteously; 580 For I the deed, as fact, will not deny. But whether right or wrong this deed of blood Seem in thine eyes, judge thou that these may hear. _Apol._ I will to you, Athena's solemn council, Speak truly, and as prophet will not lie. Ne'er have I spoken on prophetic throne, Of man, or woman, or of commonwealth, But as great Zeus, Olympian Father, bade; And that ye learn how much this plea avails, I bid you [_turning to the court of jurymen_] follow out my Father's will;590 No oath can be of greater might than Zeus.[518] _Chor._ Zeus, then, thou say'st, did prompt the oracle That this Orestes here, his father's blood Avenging, should his mother's rights o'erthrow? _Apol._ 'Tis a quite other thing for hero-chief, Bearing the honour of Zeus-given sceptre, To die, and at a woman's hands, not e'en By swift, strong dart, from Amazonian bow,[519] But as thou, Pallas, now shalt hear, and those Who sit to give their judgment in this cause; 600 For when he came successful from the trade Of war with largest gains, receiving him With kindly words of praise, she spread a robe Over the bath, yes, even o'er its edge, As he was bathing, and entangling him In endless folds of cloak of cunning work, She strikes her lord down. Thus the tale is told Of her lord's murder, chief whom all did honour, The ships' great captain. So I tell it out, E'en as it was, to thrill the people's hearts, Who now are set to give their verdict here. _Chor._ Zeus then a father's death, as thou dost say, 610 Of highest moment holds, yet He himself Bound fast in chains his aged father, Cronos;[520] Are not thy words at variance with the facts? I call on you [_to the Court_] to witness what he says. _Apol._ O hateful creatures, loathèd of the Gods, Those chains may be undone, that wrong be cured, And many a means of rescue may be found: But when the dust has drunk the blood of men, No resurrection comes for one that's dead: No charm for these things hath my sire devised; But all things else he turneth up or down, 620 And orders without toil or weariness.[521] _Chor._ Take heed how thou help this man to escape; Shall he who stained earth with his mother's blood Then dwell in Argos in his father's house? What public altars can he visit now? What lustral rite of clan or tribe admit him?[522]