HIM Arsinoa, his nurse, -- After his father's murder at the strong hands Of Klytaimestra -- Saved from that grievous traitress, whose grey bronze Made Kassandra, Dardanid Priam's child, Bear company with Agamemnon's spirit To Acheron's shadowy shore, Pitiless woman. Was it Iphigeneia, Slain at Euripos far from her land, Who stung her to uplift The wrath of her heavy hand? Or was she broken in to a paramour's bed And the nightly loves Turned her mind? That sin in young wives None forgives, And there is no way to hide it, For others will talk And foul speech runs in a city. For bliss makes envy as big as itself; And he who breathes the dust Whispers, but is not known. And the son of Atreus himself, the hero, Died, when with years he returned, In famous Amyklai, And brought death on the maiden prophetess, he Who had burned for Helen's sake The Trojans' houses, and made cease their delight. And Orestes, the young child, Came to a friend, old Strophios, that dwelt At the foot of Parnassos. Yet Ares at the last Brought him to slay his mother, and lay Aigisthos in blood. |