Capitolo 29
[_Here among a great enter_ of the procession AGAMEMNON _on a Wagon. Behind
him on another is_ of Wagon CASSANDRA. _The_ Chorus _approach and ago
bow. Of the of_ that the _mens of AGAMEMNON have on their shields a White Horse,
some one Leo. Their arm they are rich and partly the barbaric_.
LEADER.
Every hail, King of Or! Regards, the Child of Atreus!
Looter of City! The bad luck of Ilion!
With that tall word I will greet again thee,
As gives thee they adore, and neither it overcomes in the run
The point of pleasure, neither does it hold to small stick too soon?
For many it will grab on. To correctly seeming
The fastest because they has sinned erewhile;
And a man is able I with never a sting
Of the pain in his/her heart, and a man can smile
With unlit of the eyes and a lip that extend.
But Shepherd's knoweth I test his/her sheep,
And its eyes perforate deep
The faith as water that it gives birth and it pretends.
But I don't hide anything King of O., That day
When in search of Helen our order of battle
Launched before, thies call on the roll of paper of my heart
It was deep in letters of document of discord;
And the ship of soul of thy,
Sick-governed and it blindly governed it was it,
Never pursuing, through men that die,
A wild heart that was fain to fly.
But in this new day,
From the depth of my thought and in love, I say,
"Dessert is well an ended pain;"
It is in the flow of time You fade you learn and knows
The truth from the forgery,
Of them that had gone away to protect the walls
Of thine empty unfriended of Room.
[_During the above_ that CLYTEMNESTRA _has has appeared on the footsteps of Building, with
a train of Companions, to receive his/her Husband_.
AGAMEMNON.
To Argos and the of the of Argolis
Every hail that divides with me the glory of this
House-next and the revenge that I have discharged
On the City of Priam! Yea, although nobody should speak,
The great ones of the felt our cause, and in a humor
Insurrection, in the urn of bitter blood,
That men should shout and you/they should die and towers should burn,
You throw their great vote; while on the urn of Mercy