University of Virginia Library

SCENE THE FIRST.

Orestes, Pylades.
Ores.
This is my palace, Pylades.—Oh joy!
Beloved Pylades, embrace me; now
The day at length arises, when I may
Relieve thee from thy long calamities
Endured in my behalf.

Py.
Love me, Orestes;
Listen to my advice; this, this alone
Is the relief that for myself I ask.

Ores.
At last we are arrived.—Here reigns Ægisthus;
Here Agamemnon fell by murderous hands.
This palace, though I left it but a child,
Is yet familiar to me. Just heaven in time
Conducts me hither. Twice five years have past,
This very night, have past, since, slain by treachery,
My father made these palace walls resound
With dolorous cries. Oh! well I recollect it.
Electra, swiftly through this very court,
Carried me thither, where, with pitying arms,
Strophius received me, who, no less to me
Than to thyself, has proved himself a father.
And he, all trembling, through that secret gate
Fled with me; and behind me there resounded
A long confusion of lamenting voices,
Which made me weep, and shriek aloud, and tremble,
I knew not why. Strophius, who wept himself,
Smothering my howlings with his hand, embraced me,
And with his bitter tears bedewed my face;
He to the solitary shore, where late
We landed, meanwhile with his burden came,
And to the prosp'rous winds unreef'd his sails.
In manhood I return, at length in manhood;
Of hope, of courage, anger, and revenge,
Full I return, whence I departed once,
Weeping, a helpless child.

Py.
Here reigns Ægisthus;
And here, with fearless voice, thou speak'st of vengeance?
Incautious! Dost thou such beginning give
To such an enterprise? Thou see'st already
The morning dawns; and even yet if night
Here reign'd for ever, these are palace walls;
Speak, then, in whispers: every wall may hide
A spy beneath its shade. Ah let us not
Now lose the harvest of so many vows,
And of so many wanderings that, at length,
After such danger, to these shores conduct us.

Ores.
Oh sacred shores! 'tis true, it seem'd to me,
That unknown powers from you repell'd me back:
Since we from Crissa had our anchor loosed,
The winds seem'd always to forbid my progress
Towards my native shores. New obstacles
By thousands and by thousands always rising;
New perils made me tremble, that the day
Would never come when I should plant my foot
In Argos. But that day at length is come—
I am in Argos. If I have surmounted,
Beloved Pylades, all forms of danger,
To thee, and thy inflexible regard,
Do I ascribe it. Ere I hither came,
The avenger of such infamous misdeeds,
Perhaps to no dubious test the gods would bring
Courage in me, in thee fidelity.

Py.
Courage? thou hast too much. How many times
For thee I've trembled! I am pledged, thou know'st,
Every vicissitude to share with thee;
But, oh reflect, that nothing yet is done
Of what we have to do. We are arrived;
No more. Amid the multifarious means
To such a task, 'tis fitting now that we
Inflexibly adhere to one alone,
And that the best; and that we should resolve
What pretext to select, with what feign'd name
T'invent a reason for our coming hither;
An adequate foundation we should lay
For such an edifice.

Ores.
Eternal justice
Will be our sure foundation. To myself
That blood is due for which athirst I come.
The surest means? Behold it in my sword!

Py.
Oh youthful turbulence! For blood thou thirstest?
Others, defended by a thousand swords,
Thirst also for thy blood.

Ores.
T'appal Ægisthus,
Already self-appall'd, my name suffices:
Too potent is my name; and of what temper
Can he a breast-plate or a shield possess,
That I can pierce it not?

Py.
He has a shield,
A tough, impenetrable, doughty shield—
His innate baseness. Round his person throng
Innumerable satellites; and he,
Trembling, though safe, stands in the midst of them.

Ores.
To announce me, and disperse these satellites,
Were the same thing.

Py.
To announce thee and be slain,
Were the same thing; and slain by what a death!
Even these satellites possess a faith
And courage of their own: they from the tyrant
Draw their subsistence; nor would have him dead,
Except themselves destroy him.

Ores.
In my cause
The people then ...

Py.
Dost hope that in the heart
Of the base people, hatred or regard
Can ever be perpetuated? Spoil'd,
Degraded, now it sees one tyrant fall,
And now another rise; not one it loves,
And yields to all; forgets an Agamemnon,
At an Ægisthus trembles.

Ores.
'Tis, alas!
But too, too true! ... But thou dost not, like me,
Before thine eyes behold a murder'd father,
Bleeding and unavenged, who asks, expects,
And threatens me to vengeance.

Py.
Hence am I
More qualified that vengeance to obtain.
Oh hear me. We to all are here unknown,
And wear a stranger's garb: unquiet tyrants,
Whether from inclination or from fear,
Watch narrowly the movements of a stranger.
Soon as the day-light dawns, and we've been seen,
We shall be dragg'd into Ægisthus' presence.—
What shall we say?

Ores.
Strike: in the miscreant's breast
A thousand wounds inflict; and hold our peace.

Py.
Camest thou for certain death, or certain vengeance?

Ores.
Provided both be certain; first to slay,
And then be slain.

Py.
Orestes, by our friendship,
And by thy murder'd father, I beseech thee
A little while refrain: for a few hours
Yield to my judgment, I will give the rest
To thy revenge. Rather than with the sword,
Baseness should be assail'd by artifice.
Ægisthus should believe us messengers
Sent from my father; bearers to himself
In Argos, of thy death.

Ores.
Belie my name
To an Ægisthus? I?

Py.
Thou may'st be silent;
Thou need'st not lie, for I will speak for thee.
The imposture will be mine, and mine alone.
We shall perceive th'emotions of Ægisthus
At such intelligence, and shall discover
Electra's destiny.

Ores.
Electra! ... Ah! ...
Much do I fear that she no longer lives.
Tidings of her I never have received.
Ægisthus certainly would never spare
The blood of Agamemnon.

Py.
But the wife
Of that Ægisthus is Electra's mother.
Perhaps she has saved her; and if it be so,
Think that she still is in the tyrant's power;
And that we might, only by naming her,
Ensure her death. In a far different guise,
Thou know'st that Strophius himself, with arms
And troops, might re-establish thee in Argos;
But open war, however prosperous,
Would give thee nothing but thy throne and sceptre.
Meanwhile the impious tyrant would escape,
And of his rage (if he has not ere now
Slain her) Electra would remain the victim;
Thy sole beloved sister; she to whom
Thou ow'st thy life. Thou see'st th'imperious need
There is for caution. Lofty is thy purpose;
A purpose mightier far than to regain
A throne usurp'd: defeat it not, Orestes.
Who knows? thy mother perhaps is penitent ...

Ores.
Ah! speak not thou to me of her.

Py.
Of her,
Nor aught besides.—I only ask of thee
To listen to my counsel. If thou wilt not,
Those gods that by thy side have planted me,
No longer will protect thee.

Ores.
I yield all,
I swear to thee, except the deed of death.
I will behold the murderer of my father;
Behold him, nor unsheathe my thirsty sword.—
Be this the earliest effort of my virtue,
Oh father, which I consecrate to thee.

Py.
Silence; methinks I hear a stealing footstep ...
Behold! a lady in a mourning garment
Advances from the palace. For a while
Let us withdraw ourselves.

Ores.
She comes this way.