Strophe: during which the evolutions take a Right Hand direction.
The Chorus resume: though shut out from War their old age has still suasive power of song, and they can tell of the famous omen seen by the two kings and the whole army as they waited to embark: two eagles on the left devouring a pregnant hare:
Sing a strain of woe
But may the good prevail! {120}
Antistrophe: the same rhythm line for line as the Strophe, but the evolutions taking Left Hand direction.
and the Prophet Calchas interpreted; they shall lay Troy low, only beware lest the Victors suffer from the wrath of some God, Artemis who hates the eagle:
Sing a strain of woe,
But may the good prevail! {137}
Epode: a different rhythm, and the evolutions without any special direction.
May some Healer, Calchas added, avert her wrath, lest she send delays upon the impatient host and irritate them to some dread deed, some sacrifice of children to haunt the house for ever! So he prophesied in piercing strains.
Sing a strain of woe,
But may the good prevail {154}
With a change of rhythm, the Chorus pass into their first regular Choral Ode; Strophes and Antistrophes as in the Prelude, but the Evolutions now leading them from the central Altar to the extreme Right and Left of the Orchestra.
Strophe I: Evolutions leading Chorus from Thymele to extreme Right of Orchestra.
It must be Zeus – no other God will suffice – Zeus alone who shall lift from my2 mind this cloud of anxiety;
Antistrophe I: Evolutions the same, rhythm for rhythm, as the Strophe, but leading the Chorus back from the Right of Orchestra to the central Altar.
For on Zeus, before whom all the elder Gods gave way, they must rely who are bent on getting all the wisdom of the wise. {168}
Strophe II: a change of rhythm: evolutions leading Chorus from the central Altar to the extreme Left of Orchestra.
Yes: Zeus leads men to wisdom by his fixed law that pain is gain; by instilling secret care in the heart, it may be in sleep, he forces the unwilling to yield to wiser thoughts: no doubt this anxiety is a gift of the Gods, whose might is irresistible. {176}
Antistrophe II: same rhythm, but evolutions leading back from Left of Orchestra to central Altar.
When Agamemnon, not repining, but tempering himself to the fate which smote him, waited amidst adverse winds and failing stores: {184}
Strophe III: fresh change of rhythm, Chorus moving to Right of Orchestra.
and the contrary winds kept sweeping down from the Strymon, and the host was being worn out with delays, and the prophet began to speak of 'one more charm against the wrath of Artemis, though a bitter one to the Chiefs,' {195}
Antistrophe III: same rhythm, movement back from Right of Orchestra to Altar.
at last the King spoke: great woe to disobey the prophet, great woe to slay my child! how shed a maiden's blood? yet how lose my expedition, my allies? May all be well in the end! {210}
Strophe IV: change of rhythm; movements to the left of Orchestra.
So when he himself had harnessed
To the yoke of Fate unbending,
With a blast of strange new feeling
Sweeping o'er his heart and spirit,
Aweless, godless and unholy,
He his thoughts and purpose altered
To full measure of all daring,
(Still base counsel's fatal frenzy,
Wretched primal source of evils,
Gives to mortal hearts strange boldness,)
And at last his heart be hardened
His own child to slay as victim,
Help in war that they were waging
To avenge a woman's frailty,
Victim for the good ship's safety. {219}
Antistrophe IV: back to Altar.
All her prayers and eager callings
On the tender name of Father,
All her young and maiden freshness,
They but set at naught, those rulers,
In their passion for the battle.
And her father gave commandment
To the servants of the Goddess,
When the prayer was o'er, to lift her,
Like a kid, above the altar,
In her garments wrapt, face downwards, —
Yea, to seize with all their courage,
And that o'er her lips of beauty
Should be set a watch to hinder
Words of curse against the houses,
With the gag's strength silence-working.
Strophe V: Altar to Sight of Orchestra.
And she upon the ground
Pouring rich folds of veil in saffron dyed,
Cast at each one of those who sacrificed
A piteous glance that pierced
Fair as a pictured form,
And wishing, – all in vain, —
To speak; for oftentimes
In those her father's hospitable halls
She sang, a maiden pure with chastest song,
And her dear father's life
That poured its threefold cup of praise to God,
Crowned with all choicest good,
She with a daughter's love
Was wont to celebrate. {238}
Antistrophe V: Back to Altar.
What then ensued mine eyes
Saw