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Rh

The bloody act is over—I have heard the monarch's cry—

Let us swiftly take some counsel, lest we too be doomed to die.

'Tis best, I judge, aloud for aid to call,

"Ho! loyal Argives! to the palace, all!"

Better, I deem, ourselves to bear the aid,

And drag the deed to light, while drips the blade.

Such will is mine, and what thou say'st I say:

Swiftly to act! the time brooks no delay.

Ay, for 'tis plain, this prelude of their song

Foretells its close in tyranny and wrong.

Behold, we tarry—but thy name, Delay,

They spurn, and press with sleepless hand to slay.

I know not what 'twere well to counsel now—

Who wills to act, 'tis his to counsel how.

Thy doubt is mine: for when a man is slain,

I have no words to bring his life again.

What? e'en for life's sake, bow us to obey

These house-defilers and their tyrant sway?