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140 Since me,—being third from ten,—with my poor father

He drives out—being then a babe in swathe-bands:

But, grown up, back again has justice brought me:

And of this man I got hold—being without-doors—

Fitting together the whole scheme of ill-will.

So, sweet, in fine, even to die were to me,

Seeing, as I have, this man i' the toils of justice!

Aigisthos, arrogance in ills I love not.

Dost thou say—willing, thou didst kill the man here,

And, alone, plot this lamentable slaughter?

I say—thy head in justice will escape not

The people's throwing—know that!—stones and curses!