lies on the ground trampled under foot. The translation is based on the reading παρεκβάντος (Stanley); but this and all other alterations do not remove the difficulties of the original. 
 Chorus The anvil of Justice is planted firm. Destiny fashions her arms and forges her sword quickly, and the famed and deeply brooding Fury is bringing the son into our house, to requite at last the pollution of blood shed long ago.
 Enter, with attendants, Orestes and Pylades before the palace Orestes Boy! Boy! Hear my knocking at the outer door! Who is inside? Boy! Boy! I say again, who is at home? Again for the third time I call for some one to come out of the house, if by Aegisthus’ will it offers welcome to strangers.