Wielded in this human hand
The fateful knife.
But a god, my spirit’s master,
The unrelenting old Alastor[n94]
Chose this wife, his incarnation,
To avenge the desecration
Of foul-feasting Atreus; he
Gave, to work his wrath’s completion,
To the babes this grown addition.
ANTISTROPHE IV.
Chorus.