 | Electra |  |
68
SCENE THE FOURTH.
ORESTES, CLYTEMNESTRA and ELECTRA.ELECTRA
, seizing Clytemnestra's arm.
Assist to save him, heav'n!
Inhuman mother!—Rise—O rise, Orestes,
While I have strength to struggle with her fury.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Hah!—
ORESTES
, after having raised himself so as to rest on one hand.
Hath amazement seiz'd thee?—From thy hand
The dreadful instrument of death is fall'n!—
Why do'st thou gaze and tremble?—Has the name
Of an abandon'd son such magic pow'r,
That it disarms thy rage?—Take up again
The deadly weapon—see, my bosom's bar'd—
Plunge it resolv'd, and finish ev'ry fear.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Art thou Orestes?—Hide me friendly earth—
Cover me with my guilt—my shame—my terror!
ORESTES
, rising.
I am Orestes—am th' unhappy son
You doom'd, a helpless infant, to destruction,
And forc'd from sov'reignty to seek relief,
A miserable beggar, thro' the world.
But the great Gods, whose wonder-working justice
No human wiles can circumvent, ordain
That here I stand their awful delegate,
To wrest my sceptre from unhallow'd hands,
And punish treason, cruelty and murder.
You doom'd, a helpless infant, to destruction,
And forc'd from sov'reignty to seek relief,
A miserable beggar, thro' the world.
But the great Gods, whose wonder-working justice
No human wiles can circumvent, ordain
That here I stand their awful delegate,
To wrest my sceptre from unhallow'd hands,
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Let rapine, then, and persecution tremble.
The scene of guilty greatness closes here—
And all in view is horror and despair.
The scene of guilty greatness closes here—
And all in view is horror and despair.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Despair and horror have been long familiar,
The inmates and companions of my heart.
Nor know I wish, or will, or hope, or refuge—
Then what I merit let me learn to welcome.
[turns aside, and weeps.
ELECTRA
, apart to Orestes.
What hast thou done?—What dangers madly tempted?
ORESTES
, apart to Electra.
I was to blame. But an unguarded minute
Gave reason's throne to rage.
ELECTRA
, apart to Orestes.
'Twas fatal rashness
To hazard so thy safety.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Conscience thus
Abashes the debas'd—I fear to look
On those whom I have wrong'd. The indignation
Which pride discharg'd, recoils with wounding shame—
O matchless torture—misery—my child!
ORESTES.
Nay, if you weep you soften me to woman—
I am not proof 'gainst tears.
CLYTEMNESTRA
, kneeling and they with her.
Behold, my son,
To what a mother's conscious guilt subjects her!
I bend me at thy feet—and bless the Gods
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I fear'd myself thy murd'ress—and my soul
Had load enough before to weigh it down,
Nor needed the accumulative curse
Of such an apprehension.
ORESTES.
Are those tears
The genuine tribute of sincere contrition?
Hast thou parental feelings still!
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Indeed
I ne'er was harden'd quite into a monster—
Nature adher'd, tho' heav'n had cast me off—
While conscience with her iron hand wrung drops
Of blood and water from my heart and eyes.
ELECTRA.
God's! have I liv'd to mingle melting tears
In such a scene!
ORESTES.
Had sorrow and distress
Rent ev'ry fibre of our bleeding bosoms,
So innocence had been our comforter,
This fellowship in anguish had been bliss
To what we feel.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
How I have wish'd and pray'd,
Heav'n's host can witness—without ceasing pray'd
For their support and comfort to thee.
ORESTES.
Rise,
[they all rise.
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CLYTEMNESTRA.
Long—
Too long, by pride, perverseness—folly led,
I doubled torture to conceal my shame,
Masking affliction with a face of smiles—
While in my mind existed such a hell
As only fiends experience.
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