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AGAMEMNON.
By Até's malice
Rendered insatiate!
Oh, oh,—
King, king, how shall I beweep thee?
From friendly soul what ever say?
Thou liest where webs of the spider o'ersweep thee;
In impious death, life breathing away.
O me—me!
This couch, not free!
By a slavish death subdued thou art,
From the hand, by the two-edged dart.
KLUTAIMNESTRA.
Thou boastest this deed to be mine:
But leave off styling me
