Give them such guest-right as beseems our halls;
I bid thee do as thou shalt answer for it.
And I unto the prince that rules our home
Will tell the tale, and, since we lack not friends,
With them will counsel how this hap to bear.
Chorus.
So be it done—
Sister-servants, when draws nigh
Time for us aloud to cry
Orestes and his victory?
O holy earth and holy tomb
Over the grave-pit heaped on high,
Where low doth Agamemnon lie—
The king of ships, the army's lord!
Now is the hour—give ear and come,
For now doth Craft her aid afford,
And Hermes, guard of shades in hell,
Stands o'er their strife, to sentinel
The dooming of the sword.
I wot the stranger worketh woe within—
For lo! I see come forth, suffused with tears,
Orestes' nurse. What ho, Kilissa—thou
Beyond the doors? Where goest thou? Methinks
Some grief unbidden walketh at thy side.
Kilissa.
My mistress bids me, with what speed I may,
Call in Ægisthus to the stranger guests,
That he may come, and standing face to face,
A man with men, may thus more clearly learn
This rumour new. Thus speaking, to her slaves
