But when, for bitter storm, a deadlier relief, And heavier with ill to either chief, Pleading the ire of Artemis, the seer avowed, The two Atreidae smote their sceptres on the plain, And, striving hard, could not their tears restrain!
antistrophe 4
And then the elder monarch spake aloud-
Ill lot were mine, to disobey!
And ill, to smite my child, my household's love and pride!
To stain with virgin blood a father's hands, and slay My daughter, by the altar's side!
'Twixt woe and woe I dwell-
I dare not like a recreant fly, And leave the league of ships, and fail each true ally;For rightfully they crave, with eager fiery mind, The virgin's blood, shed forth to lull the adverse wind-God send the deed be well!
strophe 5
Thus on his neck he took Fate's hard compelling yoke;Then, in the counter-gale of will abhorr'd, accursed, To recklessness his shifting spirit veered-Alas! that Frenzy, first of ills and worst, With evil craft men's souls to sin hath ever stirred!
And so he steeled his heart-ah, well-a-day-Aiding a war for one false woman's sake, His child to slay, And with her spilt blood make An offering, to speed the ships upon their way!
antistrophe 5
Lusting for war, the bloody arbiters Closed heart and ears, and would nor hear nor heed The girl-voice plead, Pity me, Father! nor her prayers, Nor tender, virgin years.
So, when the chant of sacrifice was done, Her father bade the youthful priestly train Raise her, like some poor kid, above the altar-stone, From where amid her robes she lay Sunk all in swoon away-Bade them, as with the bit that mutely tames the steed, Her fair lips' speech refrain, Lest she should speak a curse on Atreus' home and seed,strophe 6So, trailing on the earth her robe of saffron dye, With one last piteous dart from her beseeching eye.
Those that should smite she smote Fair, silent, as a pictur'd form, but fain To plead, Is all forgot?