Caught in the reins[7], that dragged him with sharp thongs. Then as he fell to the earth the horses swerved, And roamed the field. The people when they saw Him fallen from out the car, lamented loud For the fair youth, who had achieved before them Such glorious feats, and now had found such woe,-- Dashed on the ground, then tossed with legs aloft Against the sky,--until the charioteers, Hardly restraining the impetuous team, Released him, covered so with blood that none,-- No friend who saw--had known his hapless form. Which then we duly burned upon the pyre. And straightway men appointed to the task From all the Phocians bear his mighty frame-- Poor ashes! narrowed in a brazen urn,-- That he may find in his own fatherland His share of sepulture.--Such our report, Painful to hear, but unto us, who saw, The mightiest horror that e'er met mine eye. CH. Alas! the stock of our old masters, then, Is utterly uprooted and destroyed. CLY. O heavens! what shall I say? That this is well? Or terrible, but gainful? Hard my lot, To save my life through my calamity! OLD M. Lady, why hath my speech disheartened thee? CLY. To be a mother hath a marvellous power: No injury can make one hate one's child. OLD M. Then it should seem our coming was in vain. CLY. In vain? Nay, verily; thou, that hast brought Clear evidences of his fate, who, sprung Prom my life's essence, severed from my breast And nurture, was estranged in banishment, And never saw me from the day he went Out from this land, but for his father's blood Threatened me still with accusation dire; That sleep nor soothed at night nor sweetly stole My senses from the day, but, all my time, Each instant led me on the way to death!-- But this day's chance hath freed me from all fear Of him, and of this maid: who being at home Troubled me more, and with unmeasured thirst Kept draining my life-blood; but now her threats Will leave us quiet days, methinks, and peace Unbroken.--How then shouldst thou come in vain? EL. O misery! 'Tis time to wail thy fate, Orestes, when, in thy calamity, Thy mother thus insults thee. Is it well? CLY. 'Tis well that he is gone, not that you live. EL. Hear, 'venging spirits of the lately dead! CLY. The avenging spirits have heard and answered well. EL. Insult us now, for thou art fortunate! CLY. You and Orestes are to quench my pride. EL. Our pride is quenched. No hope of quenching thee! CLY. A world of good is in thy coming, stranger, Since thou hast silenced this all-clamorous tongue. OLD M. Then I may go my way, seeing all is well. CLY. Nay, go not yet! That would disgrace alike Me and the friend who sent you to our land. But come thou in, and leave her out of door To wail her own and loved ones' overthrow. [_Exeunt_ CLYTEMNESTRA _and_ Old Man