University of Virginia Library

SCENE THE SECOND.

ELECTRA and ORESTES.
ELECTRA.
Phocian—begone. This mansion, and these rites
Forbid intrusion.

ORESTES.

ELECTRA.
Forbear—

ORESTES.
Electra was his constant theme of talk.
For her his wishes took unbounded scope,
His pray'rs were ever ardent. For her wrongs,
With speechless agonies his heart would heave,
His sighs would issue, and his tears descend.

ELECTRA.
Stop, stranger, stop—or your relation kills me.

ORESTES.
To her, transported! he would often cry,
I owe my life!—when sacrilegious hands
Struck to the earth the author of my being,
And I, a helpless innocent, was doom'd
The next to suffer—she was my preserver.
Inspir'd by tenderness, she instant seiz'd
The only means and minute fate would grant
To save me from the meditated blow.

ELECTRA.
That active zeal since fortune renders fruitless,
Would he and I had with our father fell.
What hardships then, what hapless, heavy hours
Of grief and misery had both escap'd!
He had not rov'd a wretched, royal beggar,
Nor I, 'mid'st daily wrongs, been curst to see
My father's fame insulted, and his crown
The prey, the prize, of those who shed his blood.
Yet 'gainst such ills did fortitude bear up,
Sustain'd by treach'rous hope; whose flatt'ries told,
That I should live to triumph in my turn:
Should see my brother with his brandish'd sword
At once asserting vengeance and his throne.
But now those hopes desert me; and I'm left
The lonely relique of a ruin'd house,
To suffer wrongs, sustain distressful lise,
And weep misfortunes that admit no cure.

ORESTES.
Infectious anguish—how I catch the weakness!

ELECTRA.
Hah! tears of pity! they are gen'rous, kind,
And soothing to distress so great as mine—
Who find, alas, no fellowship in sorrow.

ORESTES.
Unfeeling world!

ELECTRA.
But to the winds and skies
I give, howe'er, my gath'ring anguish vent.
The clouds, more merciful than monster man,
Oft melt in mournful drops at my complainings.
Ah fruitless, vain recourse!—my father, hear—
Hear me, Orestes—hear these suppliant cries—
Assist to soften the relentless fates,
And gain my soul her rescue from despair.

ORESTES.
Yet, pious mourner, for your precious peace—

ELECTRA.
Peace is no more—then wherefore should I live?
Order is lost—and why exists the world?
O put a period to it awful Gods!
Since ev'ry bond of social life is broke.
Awake confusion! Let full rapine rage,
Fierce outrage howl, and desolation triumph!
There's now no crime too horrid to commit—
Too foul for human practice. Sons may seize
Decrepit fathers by their hoary locks,
And crush the last remains of creeping age!
Relentless mothers from their milky breasts,
With savage hands their smiling infants tear,
And on the flinty pavements dash their brains.
When thrones are violated—when the torch
Of Hymen streams a suffocating flame,
Iniquity hath wing'd it's utmost flight.
What can it farther? Whither must it soar?
Gods! do ye ponder till presumptuous mortals
Assault your mansions, ev'n invade your skies,
Ere from your hands the vengeful bolts are hurl'd
That shall to atoms shake this solid earth,
And make laps'd nature, thro' her myriad forms,
Burst with one pang, and in one groan expire?

ORESTES.
In pity cease—

ELECTRA.
Away, away, away—
Phrenzy's a friend, although a wretched one:
And reason, when distress is past relief,
Our worst of enemies.—A draught of Lethe!—
O for forgetfulness—

ORESTES.
Her mind's disorder'd!
Good heav'n relieve her.

ELECTRA.
'Tis a fruitless pray'r.
I am not frantic—I were blest to be so.
What could I suffer by the loss of reason,
But loss of griefs that reason cannot cure?

ORESTES.
Distressful anguish!

ELECTRA.
Twelve unhappy years
To bear the load of miserable life,
With but one hope to chear me! and, at last,
My very goal in view—to loose ev'n that—
And yet survive it!—If thou art a friend,
Push me from off this pinacle of woe,
And aid my plunge to everlasting peace.

ORESTES.
In ev'ry pang that wrings thy throbbing heart—
In all thy wrongs, thy suff'rings, I partake,
With agonies unspeakable—

ELECTRA.
No more.
Hope not with fruitless pity to retard
A soul that's bent on parting—

ORESTES.
Hear me—

ELECTRA.
No—
I'll be no more deluded. Life's a curse
That only foes can wish me to endure.

ORESTES.
Mine is the voice of tenderness—of love—

ELECTRA.
Provoke not desperation!—On the den
Of dragon-wrath thou tread'st!—Retreat in time,
Nor hazard rashness.

ORESTES.
Little do'st thou think,
Electra, what an int'rest thou hast here.

ELECTRA.
Presumptuous youth!—would arrogance—ah! no—
He but compassionates—yet for thy life—

ORESTES.
I live but in the hope to cherish thine.

ELECTRA.
Say'st thou?—The fates are hov'ring on the wing—
The clouds thick congregate—the whirlwind wakes—
The furies gather round!

ORESTES.
My sister—

ELECTRA.
Hah!—

ORESTES.
What consternation—

ELECTRA.
Said'st thou—said'st thou—

ORESTES.
I'm indeed thy brother—

ELECTRA.
Ever-living Gods!
It cannot be—it is delusion all—

[fainting.
ORESTES
, catching her in his arms.
My sister!—my Electra?—Heav'ns! she dies!
O ideot rashness!—my unguarded transports
Have kill'd the innocent I wish'd to succour!
Hah!—breathes she not?—she lifts the lids of light!
And beams warm comfort on my frozen heart!
O'erpow'ring raptures—extacy of bliss!

ELECTRA.
Thou—thou Orestes?—let me view thee well!
Oh! no, I am not—cannot be deceiv'd.
Thro' all thy form—each feature—ev'ry limb—
I trace my father, god-like Agamemnon!
O'erwhelming happiness—how wild thy flow!

ORESTES.
Exalted eloquence of eyes and souls!
O looks that touch beyond the pow'r of words!
Tears are true utt'rers of our genuine joy!

ELECTRA.

ORESTES.
'Twas to deceive the ever-watchful tyrant,
And lull within his mind suspicion's guard
While I obtain'd an interview with thee,
And with the friends of Agamemnon's house,
That we might forge such thunders as will blast
This ruthless ravager who stains my throne.