University of Virginia Library

SCENE VII.

Clytemnestra, Egisthus.
Clytemnestra.
Here let me kneel, Egisthus, grasp thy Knees;
Here let me grow till my Request be granted.
Now is the very Crisis of my Fate.

Egisthus.
What Sight is this I see? Rise, Clytemnestra!
Thou fairest most majestic of thy Sex!
It misbecomes thee much this suppliant Posture.
O there is nothing, nothing, sure, which you
Need stoop to ask! speak, and command it, Madam.

Clytemnestra.
Then let us henceforth be, as if this Love
Had never been betwixt us.

Egisthus.
Cease to love thee!
What wild Demand! Impossible!—Even now,
Endear'd by Danger, by Distress endear'd,
I for thee feel a fonder Pang, than e'er
I felt before.

Clytemnestra.
No! these deluding Words
Can charm no longer; their Enchantment flies;
And in my Breast the guilty Passions jar,
Unkind, unjoyous, unharmonious all.
Ah me! from real Happiness we stray,
By Vice bewilder'd; Vice, which always leads,
However fair at first, to Wilds of Woe.

Egisthus.
Ah! Clytemnestra! didst thou love—

Clytemnestra.
No more!
Seduce my Soul no more! Here will I stop—
Beyond this Line 'tis Misery, 'tis Madness,
The Furies flash their Torches, Vultures tear,
The mingled Tortures of the Damn'd await me.
Oh! if your Passion be not meerly selfish,
If the least Tenderness for me you feel,
Drive me no farther down the Gulph of Woe!
To Happiness I bid a last Farewell;
I ask not Happiness; no, that I leave
To Innocence and Virtue; Peace, alone,
Some poor Remains of Peace is all I ask,
Not to be greatly wretched, plung'd in Horrors!
And yet, who knows, the heavenly Spark, that sleeps
Beneath these Embers, yet may spread anew
Its chearful Lustre—All may yet be well—
For Agamemnon was so kind, so gentle,
With such a holy tender Flame he burn'd,
As might have kindled in a barbarous Breast
Humanity and Virtue.

Egisthus.
All Pretence.
I guess his Aim; I penetrate his Purpose.
On you he lavish'd Fondness, while on me
He lowr'd Destruction. Doubtless, with his Ear,
Some Villain has been busy; and he means
First to divide us, then, with greater Ease,
To ruin both.—And can you then be caught,
Caught with these common prostituted Speeches,
That oft have sicken'd on the glowing Lip
Of many a Trojan Slave? Chryseïs had them;
Briseïs too: and now Cassandra, she,
Who, liker a triumphant Queen than Captive,
Is every hour expected—

Clytemnestra.
What Cassandra?

Egisthus.
O it imports you little what Cassandra!
Thus poorly, tame you ne'er will want Cassandra's.
What is become of Clytemnestra's Spirit,
That she can thus forget her high Descent,
Forget her Rank, her Honour, nay forget
Her Injuries?

Clytemnestra.
But what Cassandra, say?

Egisthus.
Why Priam's Daughter, the prophetic Princess,
The proud, the young, the beautiful Cassandra:
So vain of Heart, she dreamt Apollo lov'd her,
And, on her plighted Faith to crown his Love,
Bestow'd the Gift of Prophecy; the Gift
In her possession, she deceiv'd the God;
Whence he, provok'd, with this Condition dash'd it,
Of never gaining Credit. So the Tale,
The Fable runs—Yet, on my Soul, I think,
Did she give out, she should be Queen of Argos,
She were indeed a Prophetess.

Clytemnestra.
'Tis well.
You mean it for an Insult this, you do.
What else could tempt you to deride me, Sir,
With such Extravagance?

Egisthus.
Mistake me not,
I mean it, Madam, for a serious Truth,
I mean it for a Certainty, if thus
You droop, unnerv'd with these dejecting Fears.

Clytemnestra.
Cassandra Queen of Argos!

Egisthus.
Yes, of Argos;
While Clytemnestra in a Prison pines;
Where she may weep, and moralize at leisure.

Clytemnestra.
By Heavens! she visits first her Father's Shade!

Egisthus.
There shone your native Self. Let bright Revenge,
I should say Justice, dissipate these Clouds,
These melancholy Whims of ill-judg'd Virtue,
And show you burning with your former Lustre.
Madam, our Fates are blended: know, we stand
Or fall together. Shame Contempt and Ruin,
Or Safety Love and Glory, is our Choice.
And need we doubt a Moment?

Clytemnestra.
But, Egisthus—

Egisthus.
I know the Purpose of thy pleading Eye.
Of that hereafter—We shall meet again—
My Presence now is wanted in the City.
Fear nothing—Thou shalt know before we act,
Thou, for whose sake alone I act and live!