Aeschylus, Agamemnon
Robert Browning, Ed.

KASSANDRA.
Well then, the oracle from veils no longer
Shall be outlooking, like a bride new-married:
But bright it seems, against the sun's uprisings
Breathing, to penetrate thee: so as, wave-like,
To wash against the rays a woe much greater
Than this. I will no longer teach by riddles.
And witness, running with me, that of evils
Done long ago, I nosing track the footstep!
For, this same roof here -- never quits a Choros
One-voiced, not well-tuned since no "well" it utters:
And truly having drunk, to get more courage,
Man's blood -- the Komos keeps within the household
-- Hard to be sent outside -- of sister Furies:
They hymn their hymn -- within the house close sitting --
The first beginning curse: in turn spit forth at
The Brother's bed, to him who spurned it hostile.
Have I missed aught, or hit I like a bowman?
False prophet am I, -- knock at doors, a babbler?
Henceforward witness, swearing now, I know not
By other's word the old sins of this household!

CHOROS.
And how should oath, bond honourably binding,
Become thy cure? No less I wonder at thee
-- That thou, beyond sea reared, a strange-tongued city
Shouldst hit in speaking, just as if thou stood'st by!