Capitolo 41
body of the lies of Agamemnon, enveloped in a long bathrobe among an it silver-sided
laver; the dead body of Cassandra is staid close to him._
CLYTEMNESTRA
I have, yes that felt me speak so long and oft
The word of glozing that has conducted me to my wish?
Feel as I don't tighten me to unsay it everybody!
As other owes one that willeth to repay
Bad for bad to an enemy
Disguised as I befriend, tightly plots the sweater you round off him,
Overleaped not to be, a net of decree?
This is the sum and problem of old conflict,
Of me it deep-pondered and for a long time it carried out.
All are admitted, and as me smote that I sustain
With foot put on an ended thing fixed!
I don't turn me to refusal: this way me beaten
Then he was able neither it runs away neither it defends his/her decree,
Also as the edges of trammel the scaly bench,
I trapped him with inextricable toils,
The sick abundance of a bathrobe that confuses;
Then the smote him, once again--and to every wound
He cried to tall voice, then as in relaxed death
Every edge and it sank to earth; and as him it placed,
Once more me the smote him, with the last third hit,
Hades sacred, savior of the corpse.
And so he fell, and as him it passed away,
Spirit with rubbed body; every dying breath
Flung from his/her breast rapid bubbling sends forth to throws of coagulated blood,
And the dark spray of the rain of blood
You fall on me; and I was fain to feel
That dew--it is not the rain of sky
To cornland, when the green sheath abounds with wheat,
Elders of Argos--since the stands of thing this way,
I offer Him to rejoice, if such Your wish:
You rejoice or not, me to boast me and to praise the action,
And well me the ween, if convenient you/he/she could be,
'Twere not fact to pour here libations,
Justly--the ay, more justly--on his/her dead body
Who filled his/her house with curses as with wine,
And so he/she returned for exhausting the cup he filled.
CHOIR
I marvel me to the audacity of language of thy,
To so noisily praise o'er a killed husband.
CLYTEMNESTRA