Chorus
On my breast I beat1 an Arian2 dirge in just the same fashion as a Cissian3 wailing woman. With clenched fists, raining blows thick and fast, my outstretched hands
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could be seen descending from above, from far above, now on this side, now on that, till my battered and wretched head resounded with the strokes.
1 At the time of Agamemnon's murder, when the women wailed with the extravagance of professional Asiatic mourners. Here they repeat those signs of mourning.
2 Aria was a district of Persia. For “Eranians” （Old-Persian ariya） the Greeks used Ἄριοι; at least Herodotus says this was an ancient name of the Medes.
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