The House of Atreus Part 22

[_A loud cry within._

VOICE OF AEGISTHUS

Help, help, alas!

CHORUS

Ho there, ho! how is't within?

Is't done? is't over? Stand we here aloof While it is wrought, that guiltless we may seem Of this dark deed; with death is strife fulfilled.

[_Enter a slave_

SLAVE

O woe, O woe, my lord is done to death!

Woe, woe, and woe again, AEgisthus gone!

Hasten, fling wide the doors, unloose the bolts Of the queen's chamber. O for some young strength To match the need! but aid availeth nought To him laid low for ever. Help, help, help!

Sure to deaf ears I shout, and call in vain To slumber ineffectual. What ho!

The queen! how fareth Clytemnestra's self?

Her neck too, hers, is close upon the steel, And soon shall sink, hewn thro' as justice wills.

[_Enter Clytemnestra._

CLYTEMNESTRA

What ails thee, raising this ado for us?

SLAVE

I say the dead are come to slay the living.

CLYTEMNESTRA

Alack, I read thy riddles all too clear?

We slew by craft and by like craft shall die.

Swift, bring the axe that slew my lord of old; I'll know anon or death or victory?

So stands the curse, so I confront it here.

[_Enter Orestes, his sword dropping with blood,_

ORESTES

Thee too I seek: for him what's done will serve.

CLYTEMNESTRA

Woe, woe! Aegisthus, spouse and champion, slain!

ORESTES

What lov'st the man? then in his grave lie down, Be his in death, desert him nevermore!

CLYTEMNESTSA

Stay, child, and fear to strike. O son, this breast Pillowed thine head full oft, while, drowsed with sleep, Thy toothless mouth drew mother's milk from me.

ORESTES

Can I my mother spare? speak, Pylades,

PYLADES

Where then would fall the hest Apollo gave At Delphi, where the solemn compact sworn?

Choose thou the hate of all men, not of G.o.ds.

ORESTES

Thou dost prevail; I hold thy counsel good.

[_To Clytemnestra_.

Follow; I will slay thee at his side.

With him whom in his life thou lovedst more Than Agamemnon, sleep in death, the meed For hate where love, and love where hate was due!

CLYTEMNESTRA

I nursed thee young; must I forego mine eld?

ORESTES

Thou slew'st my father; shalt thou dwell with me?

CLYTEMNESTRA

Fate bore a share in these things, O my child!

ORESTES

Fate also doth provide this doom for thee.

CLYTEMNESTRA

Beware, O my child, a parent's dying curse.

ORESTES

A parent who did cast me out to ill!