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AGAMEMNON.
113
My fate and Agamemnon's. Life suffice me!
Ah, strangers!
I cry not "ah"—as bird at bush—through terror
Idly! to me, the dead, bear witness this much:
When, for me—woman, there shall die a woman,
And, for a man ill-wived, a man shall perish!
This hospitality I ask as dying.
CHOROS.
O sufferer, thee—thy foretold fate I pity.
KASSANDRA.
Yet once for all, to speak a speech, I fain am:
No dirge, mine for myself! The sun I pray to,
Fronting his last light!—to my own avengers—