CLYTEMNESTRA. Nay, peace, O best-belovèd! Peace! And let us work no evil more. Surely the reaping of the past is a full harvest, and not good, And wounds enough are everywhere. — Let us not stain ourselves with blood.

და ახლა სიცხე.. ზღვა ჩამკვდარი და მოქანცული
თვლემდა უძრავად, ჩაძირული შუადღის ხვატში

Look - can't you see? The more you kick
against the pricks, the more you suffer.

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You are young and young your rule and you think that the tower in which you live is free from sorrow: from it have I not seen two tyrants thrown? The third, who now is king, I shall yet live to see him fall, of all three most suddenly, most dishonored.