Once more prophetic pangs come over me. Mark ye those children on the palace there, In aspect like the spectral shapes of dreams? Meseems they by a kinsman's sword were slain. See, in their hands they bear a loathsome feast, The piteous flesh of which their father ate. Vengeance is coming, yonder in the lair A lion lurks, a coward skulking beast, Plotting against my late returned lord. My lord, I say, for slavery is my doom. The army's chief that o'erthrew Ilium Knows little what yon shameless paramour, After her long and so fair-seeming speech, Is bent to do in an accursed hour, Like a fell fiend lurking in ambush there. O crime of crimes, a woman slays her mate,-- What can I call her? The most poisonous snake; A Scylla, with her lair among the rocks, Lying in wait for luckless mariners; Death's dam, against her kin implacably Breathing her venom. What a shout she raised Of exultation, as for battle won! She feigns rejoicing at her lord's return. Believe or disbelieve me; naught I care That which must come, must come. Thou soon shalt see And rue the truth of this my prophecy. CHORUS. Thyestes, feasted with his children's flesh, Shuddering, I understood, and am appalled At hearing all so painted to the life. But for the rest, I wander from the course. CASSANDRA. I say thou shalt see Agamemnon die. CHORUS. Hush, hapless maid, speak no ill-omened words. CASSANDRA. Place for well-omened words this work has none. CHORUS. Not if it come to pass, which heaven forfend. CASSANDRA. While thou art praying they prepare to smite. CHORUS. Where is the man to do so foul a deed? CASSANDRA. Ill hast thou understood my prophecy. CHORUS. By whom and how thy words have not revealed. CASSANDRA. And yet I know too well thy country's tongue. CHORUS. So do our prophets, yet their words are dark. CASSANDRA.