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Eumenides.
Orestes.
I slew her, nor have e'er denied the deed.
Chorus.
Thus of three wrestling-bouts the first is ours.
Orestes.
Not prostrate he o'er whom this vaunt thou makest. 560
Chorus.
Behoveth thee to tell how thou didst slay.
Orestes.
This hand, my drawn sword wielding, smote her neck.
Chorus.
By whom persuaded, and by whose advice?
Orestes.
By Phœbos' words: he witnesseth for me.
Chorus.
How? did the prophet counsel matricide?
Orestes.
Certes,—nor thus far have I blamed my lot.
Chorus.
Caught by the vote, another tune thou'lt sing.
Orestes.
Faith have I: from the tomb my sire will aid.
