To guerdon in the end,
Who of mortals will not pray,[n85]
From high-perched Fortune’s favour far,
A blameless life to spend.
Agamemnon.
(From within.)
O I am struck! struck with a mortal blow!
Chorus.
Hush! what painful voice is speaking there of strokes and mortal blows?
Agamemnon.
O struck again! struck with a mortal blow!