CHORUS. Commanding murder with prophetic nod? ORESTES. Ay! and even now I do not blame the god. CHORUS. Soon, soon, thou'lt blame him, when the pebble drops Into the urn of justice with thy doom. ORESTES. My murdered sire will aid me from the tomb. CHORUS. Trust in the dead; in thy dead mother trust. ORESTES. She died, with two foul blots well marked for vengeance. CHORUS. How so? This let the judges understand. ORESTES. The hand that killed her husband killed my father. CHORUS. If she for her crimes died, why livest thou? ORESTES. If her thou didst not vex, why vex me now? CHORUS. She slew a man, but not of kindred blood. ORESTES. Is the son's blood all to the mother kin, None to the father? CHORUS. Peace, thou sin-stained monster! Dost thou abjure the dearest blood, the mother's That bore thee 'neath her zone? ORESTES. (_to_ APOLLO) Be witness thou. Apollo, speak for me, if by the rule {161} Of Justice she was murdered. That the deed Was done, and by these hands, I not deny; If justly or unjustly blood was spilt, Thou knowest. Teach me how to make reply. APOLLO. I speak to you, Athena's mighty council; And what I speak is truth: the prophet lies not. From my oracular seat was published never To man, to woman, or to city aught By my Olympian sire unfathered.[f18] Ye How Justice sways the scale will wisely weigh; But this remember--what my father wills Is law. Jove's will is stronger than an oath. CHORUS. Jove, say'st thou, touched thy tongue with inspiration, To teach Orestes that he might avenge A father's death by murdering a mother? APOLLO. His was no common father--Agamemnon, Honoured the kingly sceptre god-bestowed To bear--he slain by a weak woman, not By furious Amazon with far-darting bow, But in such wise as I shall now set forth To thee, Athena, and to these that sit On this grave bench of judgment. Him returning All prosperous from the wars, with fairest welcome She hailed her lord, and in the freshening bath Bestowed him; there, ev'n while he laved, she came Spreading death's mantle out, and, in a web Of curious craft entangled, stabbed him. Such Was the sad fate of this most kingly man, Of all revered, the fleet's high admiral. A tale it is to prick your heart with pity, Even yours that seal the judgment. CHORUS. Jove, thou sayest, Prefers the father: yet himself did bind With bonds his hoary-dated father Kronos.[n44] Make this with that to square, and thou art wise. Ye judges, mark me, if I reason well. APOLLO. O odious monsters, of all gods abhorred! A chain made fast may be untied again. This ill hath many cures; but, when the dust Hath once drunk blood, no power can raise it. Jove Himself doth know no charm to disenchant Death; other things he turns both up and down, At his good pleasure, fainting not in strength. {162}