Stricken. Thou shalt in Hades be his bride
Whose love thou wast in life. So great the grace 1145
I grant thee: thine to me—to avenge my sire!
Chorus.
(Str.)
Vengeance for wrong! The stormy winds, long lashing
The house, have veered! There was an hour saw fall
My chief, with blood the laver's silver dashing,
When shrieked the roof,—yea, topstones of the wall 1150
Shrieked back his cry, "Fiend-wife, and art thou tearing
My life from me, who in the tenth year's earing
Come to my dear land, mine ancestral hall?"
(Ant.)
The tide of justice whelmeth, refluent-roaring,
The wanton wife who met her hapless lord,
When to the towers Titanic heavenward-soaring
He came,—with welcome met him of the sword,
Who grasped in hand the axe keen-edged to sever
Life's thread:—O hapless spouse, what wrong soever 1160
Stung to the deed the murderess abhorred!
(Epode.)
Ruthless as mountain lioness roaming through
Green glades, she wrought the deed she had set her hands to do.
[Cry within.]
Klytemnestra.
O children, in God's name slay not your mother! 1165
Chorus.
Dost thou hear how thrills 'neath the roof a cry?
