That would be right — right over and above, too! The cup of evils in the house he, having Filled with such curses, himself coming drinks of. CHOROS. We wonder at thy tongue: since bold-mouthed truly Is she who in such speech boasts o’er her husband I KLUTAIMNESTRA. Ye test me as I were a witless woman: But I — with heart intrepid — to you knowers Say (and thou — if thou wilt or praise or blame me, Comes to the same) — this man is Agamemnon, My husband, dead, the work of the right hand here, Ay, of a just artificer: so things are. CHOROS. What evil, O woman, food or drink, earth-bred Or sent from the flowing sea, Of such having fed Didst thou set on thee This sacrifice And popular cries Of a curse on thy head? Off thou hast thrown him, off hast cut The man from the city: but — Off from the city thyself shalt be Cut — to the citizens A hate immense!
 KLUTAIMNESTRA. Now, indeed, thou adjudgest exile to me, And citizens’ hate, and to have popular curses: Nothing of this against the man here bringing,