Part 8 (2/2)

Within this house a choir abidingly Chants in harsh unison the chant of ill; Yea, and they drink, for more enhardened joy, Man's blood for wine, and revel in the halls, Departing never, Furies of the home.

They sit within, they chant the primal curse, Each spitting hatred on that crime of old, The brother's couch, the love incestuous That brought forth hatred to the ravisher.

Say, is my speech or wild and erring now, Or doth its arrow cleave the mark indeed?

They called me once, _The prophetess of lies, The wandering hag, the pest of every door--_ Attest ye now, She knows in very sooth _The house's curse, the storied infamy._

CHORUS

Yet how should oath--how loyally soe'er I swear it--aught avail thee? In good sooth,

AGAMEMNON

My wonder meets thy claim: I stand amazed That thou, a maiden born beyond the seas, Dost as a native know and tell aright Tales of a city of an alien tongue.

Ca.s.sANDRA

That is my power--a boon Apollo gave.

CHORUS

G.o.d though he were, yearning for mortal maid?

Ca.s.sANDRA

Ay! what seemed shame of old is shame no more.

CHORUS

Such finer sense suits not with slavery.

Ca.s.sANDRA

He strove to win me, panting for my love.

CHORUS

Came ye by compact unto bridal joys?

Ca.s.sANDRA

Nay--for I plighted troth, then foiled the G.o.d.

CHORUS

Wert thou already dowered with prescience?

Ca.s.sANDRA

Yea--prophetess to Troy of all her doom.

CHORUS

How left thee then Apollo's wrath unscathed?

Ca.s.sANDRA

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