Thyestes: May heaven, my brother, worthily repay530
These deeds of thine. But this my wretched head
Will not consent to wear a diadem,
Nor my ill-omened hand to hold the staff
Of power. Nay, rather, let me hide myself
Among the throng.
Atreus: There's room upon the throne.
Thyestes: But I shall know that all of thine is mine.535
Atreus: But who would throw away good fortune's gifts?
Thyestes: Whoe'er has found how easily they fail.