Mark this—Apollo at earth's navel-throne
Gives most true revelation unto men,
Whom we obey in whatsoe'er he saith.
Obeying him, my mother did I slay.
Account ye him unholy: yea, slay him!595
He sinned, not I. What ought I to have done?
Or hath the God no power to absolve the guilt
I lay on him ? Whither should one flee then,
If he which bade me shall not save from death?
Nay, say not thou that this was not well done,600
Albeit untowardly for me, the doer.
Happy the life of men whose marriages
Are blest; but they for whom they ill betide,
At home, abroad, are they unfortunate.
Chorus.
Women were born to mar the lives of men605
Ever, unto their surer overthrow.
Tyndareus.
Since thou art unabashed, and round of speech,
Making such answer as to vex my soul,
Thou shalt inflame me more to urge thy death.
A fair crown this unto the purposed work610
For which I came, to deck my daughter's tomb!
To Argos' council-gathering will I go
And thrust the folk on—little thrusting need they!—[1]
That with thy sister thou be stoned to death:—
Yea, worthier of death than thou is she,615
Who egged thee on against thy mother, aye
