doing evil deeds against
his own children.

AG. Daughter of Leda, opportunely have I found you without the house, that
I may tell thee, apart from the virgin, words which it is not meet for
those to hear who are about to marry.

CLY. And what is it, on which your convenience lays hold?

AG. Send forth thy daughter from the house with her father, since the
lustral waters are ready prepared, and the salt-cakes to scatter with the
hands upon the purifying flame, and heifers, which needs must be slain in
honor of the Goddess Diana before the marriage solemnities, a shedding of
black gore.

CLY. In words, indeed, thou speakest well, but for thy deeds, I know not
how I may say thou speakest well. But come without, O daughter, for thou
knowest all that thy father meditates, and beneath thy robes bring the
child Orestes, thy brother. See, she is here present to obey thee. But the
rest I will speak on her behalf and mine.

AG. Child, why weepest thou, and no longer beholdest me cheerfully, but
fixing thy face upon the ground, keepest thy vest before it?

CLY. Alas! What commencement of my sorrows shall I take? For I may use them
all as first, [both last, and middle throughout.[83]]

AG. But what is it? How all of you are come to one point with me, bearing
disturbed and alarmed countenances.

CLY. Wilt thou answer candidly, husband, if I ask thee?

AG. There needs no admonition: I would fain be questioned.

CLY. Art thou going to slay thy child and mine?

AG. Ah! wretched things dost thou say, and thinkest what thou shouldst not.

CLY. Keep quiet, and first in turn answer me that.

AG. But if thou askest likely things, thou wilt hear likely.

CLY. I ask no other things, nor do thou answer me others.

AG. O revered destiny, and fate, and fortune mine!

CLY. Ay, and mine too, and this child's, one of three unfortunates!

AG. But in what art thou wronged?

CLY. Dost thou ask me this? This thy wit hath no wit.[84]

AG. I am undone. My secret plans are betrayed.

CLY. I know and have learned all that you are about to do to me, and the
very fact of thy silence, and of thy groaning much, is a proof that you
confess it. Do not take the trouble to say any thing.

AG. Behold, I am silent: for what need is there that, falsely speaking, I
add shamelessness to misfortune?

CLY. Listen, then, for I will unfold my story, and will no longer make use
of riddles away from the purpose. In the first place, that I may first