CLYTEMNESTRA
Think you-this very morn-the Greeks in Troy, And loud therein the voice of utter wail!
Within one cup pour vinegar and oil, And look! unblent, unreconciled, they war.
So in the twofold issue of the strife Mingle the victor's shout, the captives' moan.
For all the conquered whom the sword has spared Cling weeping-some unto a brother slain, Some childlike to a nursing father's form, And wail the loved and lost, the while their neck Bows down already 'neath the captive's chain.
And lo! the victors, now the fight is done, Goaded by restless hunger, far and wide Range all disordered thro' the town, to snatch Such victual and such rest as chance may give Within the captive halls that once were Troy-Joyful to rid them of the frost and dew, Wherein they couched upon the plain of old-Joyful to sleep the gracious night all through, Unsummoned of the watching sentinel.
Yet let them reverence well the city's gods, The lords of Troy, tho' fallen, and her shrines;So shall the spoilers not in turn be spoiled.
Yea, let no craving for forbidden gain Bid conquerors yield before the darts of greed.
For we need yet, before the race be won, Homewards, unharmed, to round the course once more.
For should the host wax wanton ere it come, Then, tho'the sudden blow of fate be spared, Yet in the sight of gods shall rise once more The great wrong of the slain, to claim revenge.
Now, hearing from this woman's mouth of mine, The tale and eke its warning, pray with me, Luck sway the scale, with no uncertain poise, For my fair hopes are changed to fairer joys.
LEADER
A gracious word thy woman's lips have told, Worthy a wise man's utterance, O my queen;Now with clear trust in thy convincing tale I set me to salute the gods with song, Who bring us bliss to counterpoise our pain.
(CLYTEMNESTRA goes into the palace.)
CHORUS (singing)
Zeus, Lord of heaven! and welcome night Of victory, that hast our might With all the glories crowned!