tongue
With checkless clamour cries that we revile
Our mother.  Nay, no mother, but the chief
Of tyrants to us!  For my life is full
Of weariness and misery from thee
And from thy paramour.  While he abroad,
Orestes, our one brother, who escaped
Hardly from thy attempt, unhappy boy! 
Wears out his life, victim of cross mischance. 
Oft hast thou taunted me with fostering him
To be thy punisher.  And this, be sure,
Had I but strength, I had done.  Now for this word,
Proclaim me what thou wilt,—­evil in soul,
Or loud in cursing, or devoid of shame: 
For if I am infected with such guilt,
Methinks my nature is not fallen from thine.

CH. (looking at CLYTEMNESTRA). 
I see her fuming with fresh wrath:  the thought
Of justice enters not her bosom now.

CLY.  What thought of justice should be mine for her,
Who at her age can so insult a mother? 
Will shame withhold her from the wildest deed?

EL.  Not unashamed, assure thee, I stand here,
Little as thou mayest deem it.  Well I feel
My acts untimely and my words unmeet. 
But your hostility and treatment force me
Against my disposition to this course. 
Harsh ways are taught by harshness.

CLY.  Brazen thing! 
Too true it is that words and deeds of mine
Are evermore informing thy harsh tongue.

EL.  The shame is yours, because the deeds are yours. 
My words are but their issue and effect.

CLY.  By sovereign Artemis, whom still I serve,
You’ll rue this boldness when Aegisthus comes.

EL.  See now, your anger bears you off, and ne’er
Will let you listen, though you gave me leave.

CLY.  Must I not even sacrifice in peace
From your harsh clamour, when you’ve had your say?

EL.  I have done.  I check thee not.  Go, sacrifice! 
Accuse not me of hindering piety.

CLY. (to an attendant). 
Then lift for me those fruitful offerings,
While to Apollo, before whom we stand,
I raise my supplication for release
From doubts and fears that shake my bosom now. 
And, O defender of our house! attend
My secret utterance.  No friendly ear
Is that which hearkens for my voice.  My thought
Must not be blazoned with her standing by,
Lest through her envious and wide-babbling tongue
She fill the city full of wild surmise. 
List, then, as I shall speak:  and grant the dreams
Whose two-fold apparition I to-night
Have seen, if good their bodement, be fulfilled: 
If hostile, turn their influence on my foes. 
And yield not them their wish that would by guile
Thrust me from this high fortune, but vouchsafe
That ever thus exempt from harms I rule
The Atridae’s home and kingdom, in full life,
Partaking with the friends I live with now
All fair prosperity, and with my children,
Save those who hate and vex me bitterly. 
Lykeian Phoebus, favourably hear
My prayer, and grant to all of us our need! 
More is there, which, though I be silent here,
A God should understand.  No secret thing
Is hidden from the all-seeing sons of Heaven.