When he shall scan me face to face, and seek
To hear my tale; ere he may say the word,
Whence is the stranger? I will lay him dead,
Dressing him trimly o’er with points of steel.
The Fury thus, not scanted of her banquet,
Shall drink unmingled blood from Pelops’ veins,
The third and crowning cup.[n43] Now, sister, see to ’t
That all within be ordered, as shall serve
My end most fitly. Ye, when ye shall speak,
Speak words of happy omen; teach your tongue