Page:House of Atreus 2nd ed (1889).djvu/175

Rh Lo, at the central altar I descry

One crouching as for refuge—yea, a man

Abhorred of heaven; and from his hands, wherein

A sword new-drawn he holds, blood reeked and fell:

A wand he bears, the olive's topmost bough,

Twined as of purpose with a deep close tuft

Of whitest wool. This, that I plainly saw,

Plainly I tell. But lo, in front of him,

Crouched on the altar-steps, a grisly band

Of women slumbers—not like women they,

But Gorgons rather; nay, that word is weak,

Nor may I match the Gorgons' shape with theirs!

Such have I seen in painted semblance erst—

Winged Harpies, snatching food from Phineus' board,—

But these are wingless, black, and all their shape

The eye's abomination to behold.

Fell is the breath—let none draw nigh to it—

Wherewith they snort in slumber; from their eyes

Exude the damned drops of poisonous ire:

And such their garb as none should dare to bring

To statues of the gods or homes of men.

I wot not of the tribe wherefrom can come

So fell a legion, nor in what land Earth

Could rear, unharmed, such creatures, nor avow

That she had travailed and had brought forth death.

But, for the rest, be all these things a care

Unto the mighty Loxias, the lord

Of this our shrine: healer and prophet he,

Discerner he of portents, and the cleanser

Of other homes—behold, his own to cleanse!

[The scene opens, disclosing the interior of the temple: Orestes clings to the central altar; the Furies lie slumbering at a little distance; Apollo and Hermes appear from the innermost shrine.