Orestes | ||
ACT V.
SCENE a Street before the Palace.Calchas, Pylades.
CALCHAS.
Obey—not mine the dictate—Jove there guides me.
Deem not that stern Ægisthus' summons mov'd me
To join the feast of murther.
PYLADES.
I obey.
Yet bid me not with tame forbearance hear
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This dagger in his heart, and there behold me
Stab the proud tyrant on his guarded throne.
CALCHAS.
Leave him to heav'n—fate, at the destin'd time
Will crush the impious.
PYLADES.
Seer, once more I urge thee,
May I not aid Orestes?—
CALCHAS.
Not this night—
The time shall come, when Pylades alone
Shall aid, alone shall sooth his frantic woe.
(as they are going out they meet Electra.
ELECTRA.
Say, hast thou seen Orestes? I, in vain
Have search'd the palace round.—
CALCHAS.
He pass'd not here—
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How hast thou scap'd unnotic'd?
ELECTRA.
None keep watch—
The guards are steep'd in riotous excess.
Oh were not force forbidden! we ourselves,
Few as we are, might boldly dare the deed,
And master these brute revellers.
CALCHAS
—(to Electra.)
Go Electra,
And if thou find Orestes, I enjoin thee,
Not unattended let him seek the bath.
I dread his troubled spirit.—
ELECTRA.
Guide me, Jove!
Thanks holy Prophet—
(Exit.
CALCHAS
—(to Pylades.)
To the banquet, come!
(Exeunt.
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ORESTES.
This is fit place! no voice is heard—no tread
Breaks on this noiseless gloom—I saw the sun
Go calmly down—Yet—once—('tis said) the God
Turn'd back with horror from Thyestes' feast.
Of kindred blood, I dare a kindred deed—
Let me not dwell on't. 'Tis not yet the hour.
Yon clouds, that gather o'er me, thickly veil
All that has form and hue in deepest gloom!
Man sees not Man. The outward beam is dim—
Yet, ah! more clearly the internal light
Glares on the thought close-shrouded in the soul.
I hear a step.
ELECTRA
enters.
Orestes! oh where art thou?
ORESTES.
It is her voice!—
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Who speaks?—Orestes! answer—
ORESTES.
I would this had not been!
ELECTRA.
'Tis he—my brother.
ORESTES.
I look'd not for this meeting. My intent
Is fixt—I shun all human intercourse.
Depart—I pray—
ELECTRA.
If 'tis thy wish—I go—
But—thus to part in fearful ignorance!—
ORESTES.
Thou wilt not then with woman's pity melt me?—
ELECTRA.
Fix on thy heart thy hand, and count its beats,
Then question mine—our aim, our souls are one—
I will not vex thee with vain strife of words,
Turning thy spirit from its great intent:
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Confide in me—
ORESTES
—(shewing the dagger.)
I have the dagger—here—
ELECTRA.
Enough—
ORESTES.
And I have vow'd—
ELECTRA.
What vow?—
ORESTES.
At midnight
To meet her at the bath—
ELECTRA.
Th'adulterer with her?
ORESTES.
He shall not 'scape—'tis likewise fix'd, that I
Go, ere the hour—these (the keys)
give me entrance—then
At signal, I admit them—
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So far, well!—
But—
ORESTES.
Why this pause?
ELECTRA.
Thou goest not there alone—
ORESTES.
I want no aid—oh be my heart but firm
This arm dreads no resistance.
ELECTRA.
None shall aid thee.
The son of Agamemnon shall alone
Claim, vindicate, and wear his father's honors—
But the dread deed is destin'd in the place
Where bled thy father—at the hour he fell—
ORESTES.
I know it—aye, and justly so ordain'd—
ELECTRA.
There thou must lonely wait th'appointed time.
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Well—
ELECTRA.
How shall pass the dreary interval?
No light has glanc'd on that accursed spot
Since there he bled—
ORESTES.
A lamp dispels the gloom—
ELECTRA.
To witness what? the robe which shrouded him,
Thrice rent, where each deep stroke did pierce his heart.
Thou wilt have leisure time: for what? to gaze on
The brazen bath crusted with unwash'd stains:
To count the drops of blood that spot the floor:
And gather, one by one, wherever scatter'd,
Each hair, with blood distain'd, rent from his head
In the last struggle when he gasp'd for breath.
ORESTES.
Thou shak'st my soul.
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And thou wilt hear his groan
As the adulteress smote him: and his moan
That feebly murmur'd “mercy,” when she seiz'd him,
So that he stirr'd not underneath the hand—
These, and lone brooding o'er the vengeful blow
May, haply, none, none near thee—
ORESTES
—(seizing her arm.)
Cease! Electra,
Come! let us go together—
ELECTRA.
Thus, Orestes,
Thus join'd, all, all will prosper.
ORESTES.
Be thou present!
Shade of my father! rise! and claim revenge—
Exeunt.
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Clytemnestra and Phedra.
PHEDRA.
Loud rung their mirth—before I reach'd the hall
The tumult met my ear: I scarce could pass
The press of guests that round Ægisthus clamor'd.
I spake thy words, and much I wonder, Queen!
That thus he lingers—
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Few are found, who quit
With willing speed, the feast and crouded banquet
At misery's call. And yet, methinks, Ægisthus
Had hasten'd when I urg'd. You spake my words!
PHEDRA.
When I drew near him, his bow'd head hung o'er
A heavy goblet charg'd with wine. I rous'd him,
And thrice repeated what thou spak'st—he heard,
And gave (forgive the utterance) slow assent—
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Reluctantly comply'd!—you misconceiv'd—
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He comes—it is himself—leave us— (exit as Ægisthus enters)
Ægisthus!
Why this delay? know, I have lonely groan'd
In restless expectation.
ÆGISTHUS.
Clytemnestra
Thou should'st have join'd our revels—
CLYTEMNESTRA.
What! to smile
On flattering fools, regardless of my doom,
When boding visitations summon me
To fate's uncertain issue? thou hast heard
The supernatural vision—
ÆGISTHUS.
Woman's fears!—
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Light-hearted man! when Clytemnestra shakes
No brood of idle fancy floats before her—
The shape I saw was palpable as thine.
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The banquet and the bowl awhile forget:
I claim that strict observance which the cause
Imperiously demands—
ÆGISTHUS.
Speak—I attend— (a laugh and festal shout are heard.)
Heard'st thou that shout? I would the shape that scar'd thee
Might dare confront our feasters—
CLYTEMNESTRA
—(with highest indignation.)
'Twas—Atrides— (Ægisthus starts back.)
Aye—start—the grapes thick fumes o'ercloud thy brain.
But I will rouse thee to thy native terror.
When answering torches on from Mount to Mount,
From Ida's crest to Argos, spake that Troy
Was levell'd, and the lord of Greece, the conqueror,
The son of Atreus, Agamemnon, sped
In triumph to his realm: Who then preserv'd thee?
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Forbear—
CLYTEMNESTRA.
In prostrate guise, thou call'd'st on me.
I struck the warrior low. Thou stood'st aloof—
I sav'd, I wedded, I first hail'd thee, King—
ÆGISTHUS.
Forbear—I will obey thee—
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Mark at least,
Not mine the wreck of peace, of fame, of virtue,
For base ingratitude—be what thou wilt
But not ungrateful.
ÆGISTHUS.
How can I assist thee?
Thy will is mine.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Thus—'tis decreed above,
That from the youth, who bore Orestes' urn,
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The mystery of fate is known to him.
And ere two hours are past, the time is mark'd,
At midnight—in the Bath—where fell Atrides,
I meet the youth: thou too must join my steps—
Delay not when I call.
ÆGISTHUS.
I now am ready.
Let us prevent his step.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Hast thou no fear?
ÆGISTHUS.
The place I fear not: nor that beardless youth—
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Thou hast no weapon with thee—this at least
Were prudent, to go arm'd—
ÆGISTHUS.
Give me thy dagger.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
The youth requested it.—
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Thou—trust that dagger
To one scarce known to thee! well—'tis the hand
That gives the steel its worth—I will go arm'd—
Fear not—I will protect thee—
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Thou protect me!
Oh be but with me! go—and if thou feast,
Avoid excess—be ready at the summons.
(Exeunt.
SCENE changes to a magnificent banqueting-room, thronged with guests, and sumptuously decorated. Musicians, Singers, &c. &c.
Phanor—Guests.
PHANOR.
'Tis but a transient absence—on his brow
Low'rd discontent—the king was loath to leave us.
Our mirth shall chase his gloom. On his return,
Swift at his entrance, wake the lyre and flute,
And raise the festive chorus—Lo! he comes.
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enters.
(instruments and voices strike up saluting him.)
PHANOR.
Hail monarch!—hail!—
(choral song.)
ÆGISTHUS.
—I greet you all—most welcome—
The intervening moments, which, like clouds
Crossing the sun, broke rudely on our mirth,
By shew of grateful contrast, give new zest
And relish to enjoyment—Welcome all.—
PHANOR.
Monarch of Argos! hail!
ÆGISTHUS.
This fits th'occasion—
My spirits, with redoubled ardor, rush
To swell your transport—fill again the bowl.
That strain once more—
(chorus is repeated.)
Fling wide the palace gates—the wond'ring strangers
Shall gaze on our magnificence—say, Phanor,
Where is the Prophet?—him I bade attend;
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Looks this like heav'n's displeasure? Where the strangers
That met us in our triumph?—
PHANOR.
—They attend.
We but delay'd, Ægisthus, 'till thy nod
Gave sign of entrance.—
ÆGISTHUS.
Let them now advance—
Enter Pylades and Arcas.
PHANOR.
Make way, make way.
PYLADES.
I pray thee, leave us here—
ÆGISTHUS.
Who speaks?—
PHANOR.
The stranger Phocians—
ÆGISTHUS.
Forward lead them.
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PHANOR.
The gorgeous majesty of Argos, dazzles
The unaccustom'd eye—
ÆGISTHUS.
Your Phocian feasts
Are poor to these?
PYLADES.
No—our's—are holy banquets
Whereon the Gods look down—not feasts of blood.
PHANOR.
Lo! Calchas comes—
(as the Prophet slowly advances, the scene gradually darkens.)
ÆGISTHUS.
Where is the hoary Prophet?
PHANOR.
What strange obscurity o'erclouds the banquet?
ÆGISTHUS.
I scarce can see his face!—give me thy torch—
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(to Calchas.)
CALCHAS.
The tears gush down thy cheek!—thou see'st them not—
Thy groans—ill-fated wretch! thou hear'st them not—
ÆGISTHUS.
Are these thy wonted threat'nings?
CALCHAS.
—I speak none—
Dread what the heav'ns denounce!
(violent thunder and lightning.)
PHANOR.
The arch'd vault shakes!
ÆGISTHUS.
Methinks I sit like Jove enthron'd 'mid Gods,
While lightnings sport beneath me!—
(the guests disperse in much confusion.)
CALCHAS.
Impious wretch!
PHANOR.
How shall we 'scape? the roof is cop'd with flames.
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ÆGISTHUS.
(flinging away the bowl, which he had lifted to his lips.)
Fill me another bowl—This tastes of blood—
(pours out a mock libation.)
This is our wonted offering to the shade
Of slain Atrides—
(the voice that spoke at the tomb is heard.)
Vengeance! vengeance! vengeance!
Attendant on Clytemnestra enters.
King! Clytemnestra calls—
ÆGISTHUS.
I haste—
CALCHAS.
To death—
(Exeunt.
SCENE the vaults leading to the bath.
Orestes and Electra.
ORESTES.
I am prepar'd for all—take thou the lamp.
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Will not give way.
(his hand trembles, that he cannot rightly direct the key.)
ELECTRA.
It is thy hand that trembles.
Give me the key. The springs resist not—now
(the door opens.)
Force back the iron grate—why dost thou start?
This way—thy hand, Orestes—follow me—
ORESTES.
'Tis loathsome as the charnel-house.
(he lingers, and turns away.)
ELECTRA.
Quick, quick,
Hasten thy step—heed not—'twill pass away—
ORESTES.
The damps imprison'd in this unsun'd vault
Strike me with death-like chill—hold up the light—
'Tis midnight darkness—
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Come.
ORESTES.
Thy single lamp
Scarce shoots a glimmering ray athwart the gloom.
ELECTRA.
Oh do not wish for more!
ORESTES.
I understand thee—
I shall not see her when I lift my arm—
I would not see her face—
ELECTRA.
Banish these thoughts—
ORESTES
—(in the utmost horror.)
Oh sister! if her eye should glance on mine!
(in passing on, he strikes his foot against the brazen bath.)
What's this, which as I struck it unawares
Did loudly ring, and vibrate 'gainst my foot?—
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Oh ask not! pass this way—
ORESTES.
Ah! 'tis the bath
In which he perish'd! quick, take back the light—
ELECTRA.
This way—here wait, shrouded in thickest gloom—
ORESTES
—(starting forward in extreme agitation.)
Hah! seest thou not?
ELECTRA.
What moves thee?
ORESTES.
'Mid the darkness
There, there, it dimly gleams—unclasp my hand—
ELECTRA
—(vainly attempting to hold him.)
Why dost thou struggle from me!
ORESTES.
'Tis the robe—
(seizes it.)
ELECTRA.
Keep firm his brain, oh Phœbus!—
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—(displaying the robe to the light.)
Heav'n and Earth!
Thrice pierc'd!—and where the accursed dagger smote him,
Each rent blood-stain'd, yet marks the blow of hell—
Die murth'ress! (quite frantic)
call me not “thy Son, thy Son.”
Clasp not my hand!—bare not thy breast to me—
Die murthress! lo! she falls—this hand has stab'd her.
Ha! what are ye, that from each drop of blood
Start into life? foul hags! your blazing locks
Are viper-knotted. Why thus strain tow'rds me
Your eye-balls roll'd in blood? ye shall not grasp me—
Stretch all your wings—I fly before the wind.— (He falls exhausted.)
ELECTRA.
My brother!— (endeavouring to hold him in his struggles.)
ORESTES.
Hah!
ELECTRA.
Know'st thou not me?
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I know thee—
Thou art my mother's Fury—thou hast seiz'd me
To whirl me into Tartarus— (violently struggling)
—off, off,
Down to the realms of torture—
ELECTRA.
Oh my brother!
ORESTES
—(recovering.)
Electra!
ELECTRA.
Lov'd Orestes! oh my brother!
ORESTES.
Thou!
ELECTRA.
'Tis thy sister clasps thee in her arms.
These are Electra's tears that wet thy cheek.
ORESTES.
Clasp me—nay closer—are they fled away?
ELECTRA.
'Twas but the coinage of thy brain—
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Indeed—
(a noise of approaching steps.)
I hear the tread of feet—they come—they come—
ÆGISTHUS
—(is heard behind the scenes.)
Where is the youth that brought Orestes' urn?
Give entrance to Ægisthus—
ORESTES.
'Tis th'Adulterer—
I am myself again—King! enter in— (opens the door.)
ÆGISTHUS
—(in entering.)
Go slaves! bid Clytemnestra haste—away—
ORESTES
—to Electra, as Ægisthus enters.
This is a righteous blow! hold up the lamp,
That we may view each other, face to face.
ÆGISTHUS
—enters.
Boy! drop that lifted dagger, or thou diest—
(drawing his sword.)
ORESTES
—(stabs him.)
'Tis I, Orestes, Agamemnon's son
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ELECTRA.
So fall the base,
Th'adulterer, and oppressor!—hark! I hear
A hasty foot—art thou prepar'd?
ORESTES.
Oh heav'n!
Quick, close that gate. Cast o'er this wretch the robe:
Yet faint his groan. So veil, that sight, nor sound
Give warning to her ere I strike the blow—
I would not shock her soul before the time:
Enough that this must be—
ELECTRA.
Is there ought else?
ORESTES.
Put out thy light— (she extinguishes it)
—the lamp too which she bears,
On sudden, with swift hand, extinguish it.
If but a ray break forth, this dagger drops.
CLYTEMNESTRA
—(knocks thrice.)
'Tis I, 'tis Clytemnestra, give me entrance—
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Quick, quick, unbar the portal—
(at her entrance, Electra dashes out her lamp.)
CLYTEMNESTRA.
What rude hand
Has seiz'd the lamp? where art thou stranger? speak—
Ægisthus?
ÆGISTHUS.
Oh—
CLYTEMNESTRA.
A death-groan strikes my ear—
What's this which bars my way? it is the robe
Which tangled him—there's one that stirs beneath:
And blood, warm blood, spouts thro' the heaving folds—
ÆGISTHUS
—(faintly.)
Fly—I am slain—Orestes' dagger pierc'd me—
He is the stranger—fly.
(he dies.)
(as she attempts to fly, Orestes seizes her with one hand, with the other holds the dagger over her.)
CLYTEMNESTRA.
What chill hand grasps me?
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Thou must not live—
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Spare me—my Son! my Son!
Strike not this breast that nurtur'd thee! have pity!—
My Son! my Son! have pity on thy mother—
ORESTES
—(turns his face away.)
I cannot wound her—
(the voice that spoke at the tomb.)
“Vengeance! vengeance! vengeance!”
CLYTEMNESTRA
—(shrieks.)
Oh! 'tis Atrides' voice—there is no hope—
Thus—thus—my arm shall aid thy lingering blow.
(seizes his arm, and rushes on the dagger.)
(The curtain falls.)
FINIS.
Orestes | ||