CASSANDRA Apollo, Apollo! God of all ways, but only Death’s to me, O thou Apollo, thou Destroyer named! What way hast led me, to what evil home? CHORUS Know’st thou it not? The home of Atreus’ race: Take these my words for sooth and ask no more. CASSANDRA Home cursed of God! Bear witness unto me, Ye visioned woes within— The blood-stained hands of them that smite their kin— The strangling noose, and, spattered o’er With human blood, the reeking floor! CHORUS How like a sleuth-hound questing on the track, Keen-scented unto blood and death she hies! CASSANDRA Ah! can the ghostly guidance fail, Whereby my prophet-soul is onwards led? Look! for their flesh the spectre-children wail, Their sodden limbs on which their father fed! CHORUS Long since we knew of thy prophetic fame,— But for those deeds we seek no prophet’s tongue. CASSANDRA God! ’tis another crime— Worse than the storied woe of olden time, Cureless, abhorred, that one is plotting here— A shaming death, for those that should be dear! Alas! and far away, in foreign land, He that should help doth stand! CHORUS I knew th’ old tales, the city rings withal— But now thy speech is dark, beyond my ken. CASSANDRA O wretch, O purpose fell! Thou for thy wedded lord The cleansing wave hast poured— A treacherous welcome! How the sequel tell? Too soon ’twill come, too soon, for now, even now, She smites him, blow on blow! CHORUS Riddles beyond my rede—I peer in vain Thro’ the dim films that screen the prophecy. CASSANDRA God! a new sight! a net, a snare of hell, Set by her hand—herself a snare more fell! A wedded wife, she slays her lord, Helped by another hand! Ye powers, whose hate Of Atreus’ home no blood can satiate, Raise the wild cry above the sacrifice abhorred! CHORUS Why biddest thou some fiend, I know not whom, Shriek o’er the house? Thine is no cheering word. Back to my heart in frozen fear I feel My waning life-blood run— The blood that round the wounding steel Ebbs slow, as sinks life’s parting sun— Swift, swift and sure, some woe comes pressing on! CASSANDRA Away, away—keep him away— The monarch of the herd, the pasture’s pride, Far from his mate! In treach’rous wrath, Muffling his swarthy horns, with secret scathe She gores his fenceless side! Hark! in the brimming bath, The heavy plash—the dying cry— Hark—in the laver—hark, he falls by treachery! CHORUS I read amiss dark sayings such as thine, Yet something warns me that they tell of ill. O dark prophetic speech, Ill tidings dost thou teach Ever, to mortals here below! Ever some tale of awe and woe Thro’ all thy windings manifold Do we unriddle and unfold! CASSANDRA Ah well-a-day! the cup of agony, Whereof I chant, foams with a draught for me. Ah lord, ah leader, thou hast led me here— Was’t but to die with thee whose doom is near?