Agamemnon Lines 1220-1254
Aieeeee!-
the pain, the terror! the birth-pang of the seer
who tells the truth-
it whirls me, oh,
the storm comes again, the crashing chords!
Look, you see them nestling at the threshold?
Young, young in the darkness like a dream,
like children really, yes, and their loved ones
brought them down...
their hands, they fill their hands
with their own flesh, they are serving it like food,
holding out their entrails... now it's clear,
I can see the armfuls of compassion, see the father
reach to taste and-
For so much suffering,
I tell you, someone plots revenge.
A lion who lacks a lion's heart,
he sprawled at home in the royal lair
and set a trap for the lord on his return.
My lord... I must wear his yoke, I am his slave.
The lord of the men-of-war, he obliterated Troy-
he is so blind, so lost to that detestable hellhound
who pricks her ears and fawns and her tongue draws out
her glittering words of welcome-
No, he cannot see
the stroke that Fury's hiding, stealth, and murder.
What outrage - the woman kills the man!
What to call
that... monster of Greece, and bring my quarry down?
Viper coiling back and forth?
Some sea-witch?-
Scylla crouched in her rocky nest - nightmare of sailors?
Raging mother of death, storming deathless war against
the ones she loves!
And how she howled in triumph,
boundless outrage. Just  as the tide of battle
broke her way, she seems to rejoice that he
is safe at home from war, saved for her.
Believe me if you will. What will it matter
if you won't? It comes when it comes,
and soon you'll see it face to face
and say the seer was all too true.
You will be moved with pity.