Chorus.
But thou the prime allotments didst o'errule
With wine deluding the hoar goddesses.
Apollo.
But thou, full soon, defeated in thy suit,
Wilt spew thy venom, harmless to thy foes. 700
Chorus.
Since thou, young god, o'erridest my hoar age,
The issue I await with list'ning ear,
And doubtful stay my wrath against the town.
[After the twelfth Areopagite has dropped his pebble into the urn, Athena takes one from the altar, and holds it in her hand.]
Athena.
With me it rests to give the casting vote,
And to Orestes I my suffrage pledge.
For to no mother do I owe my birth;
In all, save wedlock, I approve the male,
And am, with all my soul, my father's child.
Nor care I to avenge a woman's death
Who slew her husband, guardian of the house. 710
Orestes, judged by equal votes prevails.[1]
The pebbles now pour quickly from the urns,
Judges, to whom this office is assigned.
Orestes.
Phœbos Apollo, how will end this suit?
- ↑ Athena's ballot is the mythic expression of the principle, that where Justice is undecided Mercy prevails.—Müller.
