AG.  Send forth thy daughter from the house with her father, since the lustral waters are ready prepared, and the salt-cakes to scatter with the hands upon the purifying flame, and heifers, which needs must be slain in honor of the Goddess Diana before the marriage solemnities, a shedding of black gore.

CLY.  In words, indeed, thou speakest well, but for thy deeds, I know not how I may say thou speakest well.  But come without, O daughter, for thou knowest all that thy father meditates, and beneath thy robes bring the child Orestes, thy brother.  See, she is here present to obey thee.  But the rest I will speak on her behalf and mine.

AG.  Child, why weepest thou, and no longer beholdest me cheerfully, but fixing thy face upon the ground, keepest thy vest before it?

CLY.  Alas!  What commencement of my sorrows shall I take?  For I may use them all as first, [both last, and middle throughout.[83]]

AG.  But what is it?  How all of you are come to one point with me, bearing disturbed and alarmed countenances.

CLY.  Wilt thou answer candidly, husband, if I ask thee?

AG.  There needs no admonition:  I would fain be questioned.

CLY.  Art thou going to slay thy child and mine?

AG.  Ah! wretched things dost thou say, and thinkest what thou shouldst not.

CLY.  Keep quiet, and first in turn answer me that.

AG.  But if thou askest likely things, thou wilt hear likely.

CLY.  I ask no other things, nor do thou answer me others.

AG.  O revered destiny, and fate, and fortune mine!

CLY.  Ay, and mine too, and this child’s, one of three unfortunates!

AG.  But in what art thou wronged?

CLY.  Dost thou ask me this?  This thy wit hath no wit.[84]

AG.  I am undone.  My secret plans are betrayed.

CLY.  I know and have learned all that you are about to do to me, and the very fact of thy silence, and of thy groaning much, is a proof that you confess it.  Do not take the trouble to say any thing.

AG.  Behold, I am silent:  for what need is there that, falsely speaking, I add shamelessness to misfortune?

CLY.  Listen, then, for I will unfold my story, and will no longer make use of riddles away from the purpose.  In the first place, that I may first reproach thee with this—­thou didst wed me unwilling, and obtain me by force, having slain Tantalus, my former husband, and having dashed[85] my infant living to the ground, having torn him by force from my breast.  And the twin sons of Jove, my brothers, glorying in their steeds, made war [against thee] but my old father Tyndarus saved you, when you had become a suppliant, and thou again didst possess me as a wife.  When I, being reconciled to thee in respect to thy person and home, thou wilt bear witness how blameless a wife I was, both modest in respect to affection, and enriching thy house, so that thou