ANTISTROPHE I. O god that o'er the doomed Atridan halls[n93] With might prevailest, Weak woman's breast to do thy headlong will With murder mailest! O'er his dead body, like a boding raven, Thou tak'st thy station, Piercing my marrow with thy savage hymn Of exultation. ANTISTROPHE III. CLYTEMNESTRA. Nay, but now thou speakest wisely; This thrice-potent god precisely Works our woe, and weaves our sorrow. He with madness stings the marrow, And with greed that thirsts for blood; Ere to-day's is dry, the flood Flows afresh to-morrow. STROPHE IV. CHORUS. Him, even him, this terrible god, to bear These walls are fated; From age to age he worketh wildly there With wrath unsated. Not without Jove, Jove cause and end of all, Nor working vainly. Comes no event but with high sway the gods Have ruled it plainly. {86} STROPHE V. CHORUS. O the king! the king! for thee Tears in vain my cheek shall furrow, Words in vain shall voice my sorrow! As in a spider's web thou liest; Godless meshes spread for thee, An unworthy death thou diest! STROPHE VI. CHORUS. There, even there thou liest, woe's me, outstretched On couch inglorious; O'er thee the knife prevailed, keen-edged, by damned Deceit victorious. STROPHE VII. CLYTEMNESTRA. Nay, be wise, and understand; Say not Agamemnon's wife Wielded in this human hand The fateful knife. But a god, my spirit's master, The unrelenting old Alastor[n94] Chose this wife, his incarnation, To avenge the desecration Of foul-feasting Atreus; he Gave, to work his wrath's completion, To the babes this grown addition. ANTISTROPHE IV. CHORUS. Thy crime is plain: bear thou what thou hast merited, Guilt's heavy lading; But that fell Spirit, from sire to son inherited, Perchance was aiding. Black-mantled Mars through consanguineous gore Borne onwards blindly, Old horrors to atone, fresh Murder's store Upheaps unkindly. ANTISTROPHE V. O the king! the king! for thee Tears in vain my cheek shall furrow, Words in vain shall voice my sorrow! As in a spider's web thou liest; Godless meshes spread for thee, An unworthy death thou diest. {87} ANTISTROPHE VI. CHORUS. There, even there, thou liest, woe's me, outstretched On couch inglorious! O'er thee the knife prevailed, keen-edged, by damned Deceit victorious. ANTISTROPHE VII. CLYTEMNESTRA. Say not thou that he did die By unworthy death inglorious; Erst himself prevailed by damned Deceit victorious, Then when he killed the deep-lamented Iphigenía, nor relented When for my body's fruit with weeping I besought him. Springs his reaping From what seed he sowed. Not he In Hades housed shall boast to-day; So slain by steel as he did slay.