Epeisodion 5
CHOROS.
By throws the wetting sponge has spoiled the picture!
And more by much in mortals this I pity.
Insatiate a desire of this
Born with all mortals is,
Well-being forces off, aroints
From roofs whereat a finger points,
No more come in! exclaiming. This man, too,
To take the city of Priamos did the celestials give,
1335
And, honoured by the god, he homeward comes;
But now if, of the former, he shall pay
The blood back, and, for those who ceased to live,
Dying, for deaths in turn new punishment he dooms—
1340
Who, being mortal, would not pray
Daimon to have been born — who would not, hearing thus?
AGAMEMNON.
Ah me! I am struck — a right-aimed stroke within me!
CHOROS.
Silence! Who is it shouts stroke — right-aimedly a
wounded one?
AGAMEMNON.
Ah me! indeed again, — a second, struck by!
1345
CHOROS.
This work seems to me completed by this Ah me of the king’s;
But we somehow may together share in solid counsellings.
CHOROS 1.
I, in the first place, my opinion tell you:
— To cite the townsmen, by help-cry, to house here.
CHOROS 2.
To me, it seems we ought to fall upon them
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At quickest — prove the fact by sword fresh-flowing!
CHOROS 3.
And I, of such opinion the partaker,
Vote — to do something: not to wait — the main point!
CHOROS 4.
’T is plain to see: for they prelude as though of
A tyranny the signs they gave the city.
1355
