Then did it dart until it reached the outpostMount Arachnaios here, the city’s neighbour;And then darts to this roof of the AtreidaiThis light of Ide’s fire not unforefathered!Such are the rules prescribed the flambeau-bearers:He beats that’s first and also last in running.Such is the proof and token I declare thee,My husband having sent me news from Troia.CHOROS.The gods, indeed, anon will I pray, woman!But now, these words to hear, and sate my wonderThoroughly, I am fain — if twice thou tell them. KLUTAIMNESTRA.Troia do the Achaioi hold, this same day.I think a noise — no mixture — reigns i’ the city.Sour wine and unguent pour thou in one vessel —Standers-apart, not lovers, wouldst thou style them:And so, of captives and of conquerors, partwiseThe voices are to hear, of fortune diverse.For those, indeed, upon the bodies prostrateOf husbands, brothers, children upon parents— The old men, from a throat that ’s free no longer,Shriekingly wail the death-doom of their dearest:While these — the after-battle hungry labour,Which prompts night-faring, marshals them to breakfastOn the town’s store, according to no billetOf sharing, but as each drew lot of fortune.In the spear-captured Troic habitationsHouse they already: from the frosts upmethralAnd dews delivered, will they, luckless creatures,Without a watch to keep, slumber all night through.And if they fear the gods, the city-guarders,