Euripides, Orestes 902–959: Messenger speech: the debate and Orestes' sentence

Next stood up a fellow, who cannot close his lips; one whose impudence is his strength; an Argive, but not of Argos, forced on us; confident in bluster and ignorant free speech, and plausible enough to involve them in some mischief sooner or later; He was for stoning you and Orestes to death, but it was Tyndareus who kept suggesting arguments of this kind to him as he urged the death of both of you. Another then stood up and said the opposite; he was not handsome in appearance, but a brave man, rarely coming in contact with the town or the circle in the market-place; a farmer—and they are the only ones who preserve our land—but clever, and eager to grapple with the arguments, his character without a blemish, his walk in life beyond reproach. He said that they should crown Orestes, the son of Agamemnon, for showing his willingness to avenge a father by the murder of a wicked and godless woman who would prevent men from taking up arms and going on foreign service, if those who remain behind, corrupt and seduce wives left at home to keep house. To the better sort, at least, his word carried conviction.

Messenger No one spoke after him. Then your brother came forward and said: You dwellers in the land of Inachus! I helped you no less than my father when I slew my mother; for if the murder of men by women is to be sanctioned, then the sooner you die, the better, or you must become the slaves of women; and that will be doing the very reverse of what you should. As it is, she who betrayed my father’s bed has died, but if you take my life, the law becomes relaxed, and the sooner each one of you dies, the better; for it will never be daring at any rate that they will lack. Yet, for all he seemed to speak well, he did not persuade the assembly; but that villain who spoke in favor of slaying you and your brother gained his point by appealing to the mob. Poor Orestes scarcely persuaded them not to kill him by stoning, promising to die by his own hand, with you, on this day. Pylades, in tears, is now bringing him from the conclave; and his friends bear him company, with wailing and lamentation; so he comes, a bitter sight and piteous vision. Make ready the sword or prepare the noose for your neck, for you must leave the light; your noble birth availed you nothing, nor did Phoebus from his seat on the tripod at Delphi; he was your undoing.