_Atreus_ [_entering exultingly_]: The peer of stars I move, high over all, 885 And with exalted head attain the heavens! Now are the reins of power within my hands, And I am master of my father's throne. I here renounce the gods, for I have gained The height of my desires. It is enough, And even I am satisfied. But why? Nay, rather, will I finish my revenge, And glut the father with his feast of death. 890 The day has fled, lest shame should hold me back; Act then, while yet the darkness veils the sky. Oh, that I might restrain the fleeing gods, And force them to behold the avenging feast! But 'tis enough, if but the father sees. 895 Though daylight aid me not, yet will I snatch The shrouding darkness from thy miseries. Too long with care-free, cheerful countenance Thou liest at the feast. Now food enough, And wine enough. For so great ills as these, 900 Thyestes must his sober senses keep. [_To the slaves._] Ye menial throng, spread wide the temple doors, The festal hall reveal. 'Tis sweet to note The father's frantic grief when first he sees His children's gory heads; to catch his words, To watch his color change; to see him sit, All breathless with the shock, in dumb amaze, In frozen horror at the gruesome sight. 905 This is the sweet reward of all my toil-- To see his misery, e'en as it grows Upon his soul. [_The doors are thrown open, showing_ Thyestes _at the banquet table_.] Now gleams with many a torch The spacious banquet hall. See, there he lies Upon his golden couch all richly decked With tapestry, his wine-befuddled head Upstayed upon his hand. Oh, happy me! 910 The mightiest of the heavenly gods am I, And king of kings! The fondest of my hopes Is more than realized. His meal is done; Now raises he his silver cup to drink. Spare not the wine; there still remains the blood Of thy three sons, and 'twill be well disguised 915 With old red wine. Now be the revel done. Now let the father drink the mingled blood Of his own offspring; mine he would have drunk. But see, he starts to sing a festal song, With mind uncertain and with senses dim.