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O mad Helen, who did yourself alone destroy these many lives, these lives exceeding many, beneath the walls of Troy. Now you have bedecked yourself with your final crown, that shall long last in memory,because of blood not to be washed away. Truly in those days strife, an affliction that has subdued its lord, dwelt in the house.
Cassandra Apollo, Apollo! God of the Ways,Cassandra sees an image of Apollo, the protector on journeys, close to the door leading to the street （a)guia/）.my destroyer! For you have destroyed me—and utterly—this second time. *)apo/llwn is here derived from *)apo/llumi, “destroy”—nomen omen. The god had “destroyed” her the first time in making vain his gift of prophecy （1209 ff.）; whereby she became the object of derision in Troy. Chorus I think that she is about to prophesy about her own miseries. The divine gift still abides even in the
Chorus Enter Agamemnon and Cassandra, in a chariot, with a numerous retinueAll hail, my King, sacker of Troy, off-spring of Atreus!How shall I greet you? How shall I do you homage, not overshooting or running short of the due measure of courtesy? Many of mortal men put appearance before truth and thereby transgress the right.Every one is ready to heave a sigh over the unfortunate, but no sting of true sorrow reaches the heart; and in seeming sympathy they join in others' joy, forcing their faces into smiles.But whoever is a discerning shepherd of his flock cannot be deceived by men's eyes which, while they feign loyalty of heart, only fawn upon him with watery affection.The figure is of wine much diluted. Now in the past, when you marshaled the army in Helen's cause,you were depicted in my eyes （for I will not hide it from you） most ungracefully and as not rightly guiding the helm of your mind in seeking through your sacrifices to bring courage to dying men. But now, from the dept
Hail, sovereign Zeus, and you kindly Night, you who have given us great glory, you who cast your meshed snare upon the towered walls of Troy, so that neither old nor young could overleapthe huge enslaving net of all-conquering Destruction. Great Zeus it is, lord of host and guest, whom I revere—he has brought this to pass. He long kept his bow bent against Alexanderuntil his bolt would neither fall short of the mark nor, flying beyond the stars, be launched in vai
Clytaemestra This day the Achaeans hold Troy. Within the town there sounds loud, I believe, a clamor of voices which will not blend. Pour vinegar and oil into the same vessel and you will say that, as foes, they keep apart; so the cries of vanquished and victors greet the ear,distinct as their fortunes are diverse. Those, flung upon the corpses of their husbands and their brothers, children upon the bodies of their aged fathers who gave them life, bewail from lips no longer free the death of their dearest ones, while these—a night of restless toil after battle sets them down famished to break their fast on such fare as the town affords; not faring according to rank, but as each man has drawn his lot by chance.And even now they are quartered in the captured Trojan homes, delivered from the frosts and dew of the naked sky, and like happy men will sleep all the night without a guard. Now if they keep clear of guilt towards the gods of the town—those of the conquered land—and towards t<