The Agamemnon

Guard:

Gods, I beg of you, from these duties a reprieve
Of guarding all the year's length, through which, lying
On the rooves of the Atreides on my arm, of dogs the custom,
I have come to know the conference of the nightly constellations,
And, which bear to mortals winter, summer,
Ruling lucents noted in the ethers,
Stars in their risings, and when they set.

Even now I am watching for a symbol of brightness,
A light of fire to bear from Troy the prophecy
Of victory and its tidings: for thus decrees
The heart of a woman, man-ruling, hopeful.
So both when I keep my bedewed and night-rousing
Bed, unreceptive of dreams (for fear stands about, before
My sleep, so that there is no steadfast closing
Of eyelids to drowse) -- and when I deem to sing or hum,
Carving a tuneful remedy for rest --
How I then lament, for such a home's disaster groaning,
Not ordered for the best as once before.
But now I hope for a lucky 'lease from suffering,
Since the holy angel of fire is striking through the gloom.

Hail lamp of the night, daily light announcing
Both many festive gatherings
In Argos, and the grace of celebrations,
Mercy, mercy!

I sharply sign to Agamemnon's wife
A rising out of bed so to swiftly set about the house
Ululation well betiding for this light,
If indeed the city of the Iliad
Has fallen, as the burning call makes clear:
As for me, I will sing a proem.
For I'll wager things turned out nicely for my master,
Twice-six, from the way these omens throw themselves.

Let it be I'll raise the well-beloved hand of a returning
Master of the house with this, my own. As for other news,
I have no voice -- for on my tongue a gainly oxen
Treads (things which this very house, if it took speech,
Would clearly tell) -- since of my own will
I publish for the learned while I elude the unschooled ear.