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Aeschylus, agamemnon<br />
Guarding the gate against my master's foot--<br />
My master--mine--I bear the slave's yoke now,<br />
And he, the lord of ships, who trod down Troy,<br />
Knows not the fawning treachery of tongue<br />
Of this thing false and dog-like--how her speech<br />
Glozes and sleeks her purpose, till she win<br />
By ill fate's favour the desired chance,<br />
Moving like Ate to a secret end.<br />
O aweless soul! the woman slays her lord--<br />
Woman? what loathsome monster of the earth<br />
Were fit comparison? The double snake--<br />
Or Scylla, where she dwells, the seaman s bane,<br />
Girt round about with rocks? some hag of hell,<br />
Raving a truceless curse upon her kin?<br />
Hark even now she cries exultingly<br />
The vengeful cry that tells of battle turned--<br />
How fain, forsooth, to greet her chief restored!<br />
Nay then, believe me not: what skills belief<br />
Or disbelief ? Fate works its will--and thou<br />
Wilt see and say in ruth, Her tale was true.<br />
LEADER<br />
Ah--'tis Thyestes' feast on kindred flesh--<br />
I guess her meaning and with horror thrill,<br />
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