e at Argos." But
she shrieked out, Ah me! ah me! and throwing her white arm on her breast
inflicted on her head miserable blows, and, her feet turned to flight, she
stepped, she stepped with her golden sandals; but Orestes thrusting his
fingers into her hair, outstripping her flight,[41] bending back her neck
over his left shoulder, was about to plunge the black sword into her
throat.

CHOR. Where then were the Phrygians, who dwell under the same roof, to
assist her?

PHRY. With a clamor having burst by means of bars the doors and cells where
we were waiting, we run to her assistance, each to different parts of the
house, one bringing stones, another spears, another having a long-handled
sword in his hand. But Pylades came against us, impetuous, like as the
Phrygian Hector or Ajax in his triple-crested helmet, whom I saw, I saw at
the gates of Priam: but we clashed together the points of our swords: then
indeed, then did the Phrygians give clear proof how inferior we were in the
force of Mars to the spear of Greece. One indeed turning away, a fugitive,
but another wounded, and another deprecating the death that threatened him:
but under favor of the darkness we fled: and the corses fell, but some
staggered, and some lay prostrate. But the wretched Hermione came to the
house at the time when her murdered mother fell to the ground, that unhappy
woman that gave her birth. And running upon her as Bacchanals without their
thyrsus, as a heifer in the mountains they bore her away in their hands,
and again eagerly rushed upon the daughter of Jove to slay her. But she
vanished altogether from the chamber through the palace. O Jupiter and O
earth, and light, and darkness! or by her enchantments, or by the art of
magic, or by the stealth of the Gods. But of what followed I know no
farther, for I sped in stealth my foot from the palace. But Menelaus having
endured many, many severe toils, has received back from Troy the violated
rites of Helen to no purpose.

CHOR. And see something strange succeeds to these strange things, for I see
Orestes with his sword drawn walking before the palace with agitated step,

ORESTES, PHRYGIAN, CHORUS.

ORES. Where is he that fled from my sword out of the palace?

PHRY. I supplicate thee, O king, falling prostrate before thee after the
barbaric fashion.

ORES. The case before us is not in Ilium, but the Argive land.

PHRY. In every region to live is sweeter than to die, in the opinion of the