Epeisodion 4
KLUTAIMNESTRA.
Well, with this thing at door, for me no leisure
1055
To waste time: as concerns the hearth mid-navelled,
Already stand the sheep for fireside slaying
By those who never hoped to have such favour.
If thou, then, aught of this wilt do, delay not!
But if thou, being witless, tak’st no word in,
1060
Speak thou, instead of voice, with hand as Kars do!
CHOROS.
She seems a plain interpreter in need of,
The stranger! and her way — a beast’s new-captured!
KLUTAIMNESTRA.
Why, she is mad, sure, — hears her own bad senses, —
Who, while she comes, leaving a town new-captured,
1065
Yet knows not how to bear the bit o’ the bridle
Before she has out-frothed her bloody fierceness.
Not I — throwing away more words — will shamed be!
CHOROS.
But I, — for I compassionate, — will chafe not.
Come, O unhappy one, this car vacating,
1070
Yielding to this necessity, prove yoke’s use!
