Orestes monologue — Iphigenia in Tauris

Would that he were dead! Forth from his mother's blood her ghost arose, And to the ancient daughters of the night Cries,--"Let him not escape,--the matricide! Pursue the victim, dedicate to you!" They hear, and glare around with hollow eyes, Like greedy eagles. In their murky dens They stir themselves, and from the corners creep Their comrades, dire Remorse and pallid Fear; Before them fumes a mist of Acheron; Perplexingly around the murderer's brow The eternal contemplation of the past Rolls in its cloudy circles. Once again The grisly band, commissioned to destroy, Pollute earth's beautiful and heaven-sown fields, From which an ancient curse had banish'd them. Their rapid feet the fugitive pursue; They only pause to start a wilder fear.