Page:Choëphoroe (Murray 1923).djvu/65

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913–923
THE CHOËPHOROE

Clytemnestra.

Cast out? I sent thee to a war-friend's Hall.


Orestes.

A free man's heir, ye sold me like a thrall.


Clytemnestra.

If thou wast sold, where is the price I got?


Orestes.

The price! . . . For very shame I speak it not.


Clytemnestra.

Speak. But tell, too, thy father's harlotries.


Orestes.

Judge not the toiler, thou who sitt'st at ease!


Clytemnestra.

A woman starves with no man near, my son.


Orestes.

Her man's toil wins her bread when he is gone.


Clytemnestra.

To kill thy mother, Child: is that thy will?


Orestes.

I kill thee not: thyself it is doth kill.


Clytemnestra.

A mother hath her Watchers: think and quail!

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