But chains and old age and the pangs of fasting Stand out before all else in teaching, — prophets At souls’-cure! Dost not, seeing aught, see this too? Against goads kick not, lest tript-up thou suffer! CHOROS. Woman, thou, — of him coming new from battle Houseguard — thy husband’s bed the while disgracing, — For the Army-leader didst thou plan this fate too? AIGISTHOS. These words too are of groans the prime-begetters! Truly a tongue opposed to Orpheus hast thou: Foi he led all things by his voice’s grace-charm, But thou, upstirring them by these wild yelpings, Wilt lead them! Forced, thou wilt appear the tamer! CHOROS. So — thou shalt be my king then of the Argeians — Who, not when for this man his fate thou plannedst, Daredst to do this deed — thyself the slayer! AIGISTHOS. For, to deceive him was the wife’s part, certes: I was looked after — foe, ay, old-begotten! But out of this man’s wealth will I endeavour To rule the citizens: and the no-man-minder — Him will I heavily yoke — by no means trace-horse, A corned-up colt! but that bad friend in darkness, Famine its housemate, shall behold him gentle. CHOROS. Why then, this man here, from a coward spirit, Didst not thou slay thyself? But, — helped, — a woman, The country’s pest, and that of gods o’ the country, Killed him! Orestes, where may he see light now?