Aeschylus - Agamemnon (Lines 900-940) lyrics

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Aeschylus - Agamemnon (Lines 900-940) lyrics

CLYTAEMNESTRA: Women, why delay? You have your orders. Pave his way with tapestries. (They begin to spread the crimson tapestries between the king and the palace doors.) Quickly. Let the red stream flow and bear him home to the home he never hoped to see -Justice, lead him in! Leave all the rest to me. The spirit within me never yields to sleep. We will set things right, with the god's help. We will do whatever Fate requires. AGAMEMNON: There is Leda's daughter, the keeper of my house. And the speech to suit my absence, much too long. But the praise that does us justice, let it come from others, then we prize it. This- you treat me like a woman. Grovelling, gaping up at me – what am I, some barbarian peaco*king out of Asia? Never cross my path with robes and draw the lightning. Never - only the gods deserve the pomps of honour and the stiff brocades of fame. To walk on them... I am human, and it makes my pulses stir with dread. Give me the tributes of a man and not a god, a little earth to walk on, not this gorgeous work. There is no need to sound my reputation. I have a sense of right and wrong, what's more - heaven's proudest gift. Call no man blest until he ends his life in peace, fulfilled. If I can live by what I say, I have no fear. CLYTAEMNESTRA: One thing more. Be true to your ideals and tell me - AGAMEMNON: True to my ideals? Once I violate them I am lost CLYTAEMNESTRA: Would you have sworn this act to god in a time of terror? AGAMEMNON: Yes, if a prophet called for a last, drastic rite. CLYTAEMNESTRA: But Priam - can you see him if he had your success? AGAMEMNON: Striding on the tapestries of god, I see him now. CLYTAEMNESTRA: And you fear the reproach of common men? AGAMEMNON: The voice of the people - aye, they have enormous power. CLYTAEMNESTRA: Perhaps, but where's the glory without a little gall? AGAMEMNON: And where's the woman in all this lust for glory? CLYTAEMNESTRA: But the great victor - it becomes him to give way. AGAMEMNON: Victory in this... war of ours, it means so much to you? CLYTAEMNESTRA: O give way! The power is yours if you surrender, all of your own free will, to me.' AGAMEMNON: Enough. If you are so determined –

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