Part 13 (1/2)

CHORUS Aegisthus, for this insolence of thine That vaunts itself in evil, take my scorn.

Of thine own will, thou sayest, thou hast slain The chieftain, by thine own unaided plot Devised the piteous death: I rede thee well, Think not thy head shall 'scape, when right prevails, The people's ban, the stones of death and doom.

AEGISTHUS

This word from thee, this word from one who rows Low at the oars beneath, what time we rule, We of the upper tier? Thou'lt know anon, 'Tis bitter to be taught again in age, By one so young, submission at the word.

But iron of the chain and hunger's throes Can minister unto an o'erswoln pride Marvellous well, ay, even in the old.

Hast eyes, and seest not this? Peace--kick not thus Against the p.r.i.c.ks, unto thy proper pain!

CHORUS

Thou womanish man, waiting till war did cease, Home-watcher and defiler of the couch, And arch-deviser of the chieftain's doom!

AEGISTHUS

Bold words again! but they shall end in tears.

The very converse, thine, of Orpheus' tongue: He roused and led in ecstasy of joy All things that heard his voice melodious; But thou as with the futile cry of curs Wilt draw men wrathfully upon thee. Peace!

Or strong subjection soon shall tame thy tongue.

CHORUS

Ay, thou art one to hold an Argive down-- Thou, skilled to plan the murder of the king, But not with thine own hand to smite the blow!

AEGISTHUS

That fraudful force was woman's very part, Not mine, whom deep suspicion from of old Would have debarred. Now by his treasure's aid My purpose holds to rule the citizens.

But whoso will not bear my guiding hand, Him for his corn-fed mettle I will drive Not as a trace-horse, light-caparisoned, But to the shafts with heaviest harness bound.

Famine, the grim mate of the dungeon dark, Shall look on him and shall behold him tame.

CHORUS

Thou losel soul, was then thy strength too slight To deal in murder, while a woman's hand, Staining and shaming Argos and its G.o.ds, Availed to slay him? Ho, if anywhere The light of life smite on Orestes' eyes, Let him, returning by some guardian fate, Hew down with force her paramour and her!

AEGISTHUS

How thy word and act shall issue, thou shalt shortly understand.

CHORUS

Up to action, O my comrades! for the fight is hard at hand Swift, your right hands to the sword hilt! bare the weapon as for strife--

AEGISTHUS

Lo! I too am standing ready, hand on hilt for death or life.

CHORUS

'Twas thy word and we accept it: onward to the chance of war!