Capitolo 42
Ye holds me as a woman, weak of the wish,
And it strives him to ripple me: but my heart is strong,
Neither it fears to talk his/her extreme to you,
Although yes know its communication. Praises or blame,
Also as ye list,--me the reck not of Your words.
Here! to my feet Agamemnon lies killed,
My husband once--and him this the hand of mine,
A who does plain corrected, shaped for his/her death.
See the action!
CHOIR
Donna, that deadly birth,
What an essence of venomed of the earth
Or dark distilment of the wave,
To thee such passion gave,
Hand of thine that reinvigorates
To put on eyebrow of thy this crown that burns,
The curses of earth of thy?
_Our governs from cut thee, cut down!
Goes on--they cries--accursed and abandoned,
To hate and scorn!_
CLYTEMNESTRA
Ye of Or only men what time they speak my sentence,
The hate of the city, the proclamation of all of my kingdom!
Ye had any voice of old man to launch such decree
On him, my husband, when he contained as light
The life of my daughter like that of sheep or goat,
A victim from the hairy fold that crowds!
Yea, killed in sacrifice his/her child and mine,
The beloved problem of my suffering-torment,
To cradle and to place the strong wind that you/they have blown from Thrace.
That the action of his, says me, that stain and the shame,
You/he/she had exactly been served fine as proclamation;
But ye that then they were mute they are austere to judge
This the action of mine that doths face Your ears.
You storm out Your threats, while still knowing this for sooth,
What I am ready, if Your hand prevails
As now excavations doth, to arch under of Your hesitation:
If it says God no, it will be the Your to learn
From punishment a late humility.
CHOIR
Bold is art of thy, and proud
Trust of Thy, thy vainglorious noise;
Soul of Thy that has chosen a murd is' the fate,
It is all with blood you animate--
Exasperated to know
Blood avenged not yet, the accursed stain
Dyes of red on eyebrow of thy.
But the Fate prepares for destiny of thy of thee--
Tormented as you struck of didst without a friend,,
Satisfy end of thine!