To burning and to fitting burial,
I must myself be burned. But if my prayers
Do not with heaven prevail, and if no god
Aims at the impious his fatal shaft;
Then may eternal night brood o'er the earth,
And hide these boundless crimes in endless shade.
If thou, O sun, dost to thy purpose hold,1095
And cease to shine, I supplicate no more.
Atreus: Now do I praise my handiwork indeed;
Now have I gained the palm of victory.