APOLLO:
Heave in torment, black froth erupting from your lungs,
vomit the clots of all the murders you have drained.
But never touch my halls, you have no right.
Go where heads are severed, eyes gouged out,
where Justice and bloody slaughter are the same...
castrations, wasted seed, young men's glories butchered,
extremities maimed, and huge stones at the chest,
and the victims wail for pity -
spikes inching up the spine, torsos stuck on spikes.
(The furies close in on him.)
So, you hear your love feast, yearn to have it all?
You revolt the gods. Your look,
your whole regalia gives you away - your kind
should infest a lion's cavern reeking blood.
But never rub your filth on the Prophet's shrine.
Out, you flock without a herdsman - out!
No god will ever shepherd you with love.
LEADER:
Lord Apollo, now it is your turn to listen.
You are no mere accomplice in this crime.
You did it all, and all the guilt is yours.
APOLLO:
No, how? Enlarge on that, and only that.
LEADER:
You commanded the guest to k** his mother.
APOLLO:
- Commanded him to avenge his father, what of it?
Leader:
And then you dared embrace him, fresh from bloodshed.
APOLLO:
Yes, I ordered him on, to my house, for purging.
LEADER:
And we sped him on, and you revile us?
APOLLO:
Indeed, you are not fit to approach this house.
LEADER:
And yet we have our mission and our -
APOLLO:
Authority - you? Sound out your splendid power.
LEADER:
Matricides: we drive them from their houses.
APOLLO:
And what of the wife who strikes her husband down?
LEADER:
That murder would not destroy one's flesh and blood.