Some past impiety, some gray old crime, Breeds the young curse, that wantons in our ill, Early or late, when haps th’ appointed time— And out of light brings power of darkness still, A master-fiend, a foe, unseen, invincible; A pride accursed, that broods upon the race And home in which dark Atè holds her sway— Sin’s child and Woe’s, that wears its parents’ face; While Right in smoky cribs shines clear as day, And decks with weal his life, who walks the righteous way. From gilded halls, that hands polluted raise, Right turns away with proud averted eyes, And of the wealth, men stamp amiss with praise, Heedless, to poorer, holier temples hies, And to Fate’s goal guides all, in its appointed wise. Hail to thee, chief of Atreus’ race, Returning proud from Troy subdued! How shall I greet thy conquering face? How nor a fulsome praise obtrude, Nor stint the meed of gratitude? For mortal men who fall to ill Take little heed of open truth, But seek unto its semblance still: The show of weeping and of ruth To the forlorn will all men pay, But, of the grief their eyes display, Nought to the heart doth pierce its way. And, with the joyous, they beguile Their lips unto a feigned smile, And force a joy, unfelt the while; But he who as a shepherd wise Doth know his flock, can ne’er misread Truth in the falsehood of his eyes, Who veils beneath a kindly guise A lukewarm love in deed. And thou, our leader—when of yore Thou badest Greece go forth to war For Helen’s sake—I dare avow That then I held thee not as now; That to my vision thou didst seem Dyed in the hues of disesteem. I held thee for a pilot ill, And reckless, of thy proper will, Endowing others doomed to die With vain and forced audacity! Now from my heart, ungrudgingly, To those that wrought, this word be said— _Well fall the labour ye have sped—_ Let time and search, O king, declare What men within thy city’s bound Were loyal to the kingdom’s care, And who were faithless found. [_Enter Agamemnon in a chariot, accompanied by Cassandra. He speaks without descending._