Page:Sophocles (Storr 1919) v2.djvu/185

 But thy malignity, thy cruel acts

Compel me; baseness is from baseness learnt.

Thou brazen monster! I, my words, my acts,

Are matter for thy glib garrulity!

The fault is thine, not mine; for thine the acts,

And mine are but the words that show them forth.

Now, by our lady Artemis, thou shalt rue

Thy boldness when Aegisthus comes again.

See, rage distracts thee; first thou grantest me

Free speech, and wilt not listen when I speak.

I let thee have thy say, and wilt not thou

Hush thy wild tongue and let me sacrifice?

Go, I adjure thee, sacrifice; nor blame

My voice; henceforth I shall not speak one word.

Bear this, my maid, this offering of earth’s fruits,

That to our King I may uplift my prayers,

To rid me of the dread that haunts my soul.

O Phoebus, our Defender, lend an ear

To my petition; dark and veiled the words

For those who love me not, nor were it meet

To lay my whole heart bare, while she is by,

Ready to blab with her envenomed tongue

Through all the town some empty, rash report.

Darkly I pray; to my dark prayer attend! 173