University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

ORESTES.
Now has the great predestined day arriv'd,
When by thy aid, O ever-radiant Phœbus,
Orestes must his destiny fulfil.
Tremendous destiny! that gives my hand
The matricidal knife!—Make firm my heart,
And to th'avenging of my father's death,
On her that bore me, grant such note and fame
To the dread act, that never guilt again,
Like Clytemnestra's, may surprize the world.
O Agamemnon! my heroic sire!
Could not the charm of thy atchiev'd renown
Restrain th'adultress!—Scarce from Troy return'd,
To be so murder'd,—and myself, poor babe!
To clear the kingdom for the lewd Egysthus,
Before my birth was sentenced to be slain,
But by the nurse who had my father rear'd,
Sav'd; and while yet unswaddled, sent by night
To my sad uncle's court. His kindly care
Bred me to manhood; but the Gods convinc'd
My early youth that they had work for me.
Blood will have blood. My father's claims the blow,
And my own wrongs extenuate the deed.

SCENE II.

Orestes and Pylades.
ORESTES.
Well, my Pylades, have you seen my sister?
How does she fare in the maternal brothel?

PYLADES.
As a bright jewel among offal cast,
Her native purity remains unchang'd.
She lives apart a pious pensive life,
And weeps unheard her guilty mother's sin.

ORESTES.
And what of her, and the abhorr'd Egysthus?

PYLADES.
Rather than ask, imagine. Nothing chang'd
Is the wild flame of Clytemnestra's passion;
Though every day th'opprobrious paramour,
Insulting nature might provoke her scorn.

ORESTES.
And does my sister but bewail the guilt?
A loftier spirit better would become,
Atrides issue and exalted blood.

PYLADES.
But gentle is the fair Electra's soul,
And in her bosom, full of heavy sorrow,
The vex of indignation never stirs.—
Her meek and unrepining spirit shows
A holy brightness in its clouded sphere;
Like the pale moon that on the vapoury earth,
Sheds without heat the pure celestial light.

ORESTES.
Methinks I should have more courageous felt,
Did she possess the temper of revenge
To urge me if I shrunk.

PYLADES.
Have I not sworn
To bear my part, in this just enterprize,
Against Egysthus?

ORESTES.
—But high fate ordains
A greater act; and Agamemnon's shade
Demands a sacrifice to match his death.

PYLADES.
What mean you?

ORESTES.
—Justice.

PYLADES.
How!

ORESTES.
Full retribution.

PYLADES.
On whom?

ORESTES.
The guilty.

PYLADES.
What! your mother?

ORESTES.
Yes.—
Why turn you pale and look on me so strange?
I am Orestes! Agamemnon's son!
With him th'immortal halo first was thrown,
Around the helmed head of bloody war;
And men, up-rising from their sordid aims,
Were taught that wounds, yea death itself was gain,
When found in battle fought but for renown.
The unborn races of the utmost times,
The last circumf'rence of posterity,
Will sound applause to Agamemnon's name.
But he, with all his glory in its noon,
Was, by the demon of accurst desire,
Torn from his sphere, and like a falling star,
Extinguish'd in the world's astonished gaze;
And should not such a crime be all reveng'd?

PYLADES.
Think, Clytemnestra is your mother,—think.

ORESTES.
But justice no propinquity respects;
And fate, by all the tenour of my life,
Has shown me fashion'd for a solemn end.
Know! Heav'n at times sends forth predestined men
To stir the world, and from the sensual foul
To cleanse th'immortal element of thought.
Of such were Hercules and Theseus.
What toils they bore to rid the earth o'errun,
With hideous offspring of perverted passion!
My conscious spirit claims to rank itself
With their high phalanx, and by some great act
To give an epocha to history;
That sages wond'ring o'er the past may say,
“Such was the world before Orestes' time;
But his high-aim'd atchievement changing all;
Crimes, bold and catching once, like strange diseases,
Grew mild and vanish'd from the frame of man.”

PYLADES.
Sublime! Incomprehensible! This strange
And warm enthusiasm that pervades
Thy lofty spirit, has transform'd thy nature,
Lighting a purpose dark and terrible,
With such a flame of holy charity,
That I am aw'd, and tremble at thy virtue.
Thou art no more, Orestes! he with whom
My youthful pastimes were so gaily spent!
But I have sworn to be as true to this,
In his great business, as his own right hand.—
Lo, where your sister, fair Electra comes.

SCENE III.

Electra, Orestes, and Pylades.
ELECTRA.
My noble brother—

ORESTES.
Rise, Electra, rise:
Too long the daughter of the king of heroes,
Has bent in lowliness and pined forlorn.
Why knelt you thus to me?

ELECTRA.
Your mien, Orestes,
O'erawes my spirit; and my heart foregone,
The joyous throb with which I sought you here,
Stands in my bosom, fearful and restrained,
As if I saw, incarnated in you,
The energy of an avenging God.
But wherefore here, at this most perilous hour?
This is the portico of Phœbus' temple.—

ORESTES.
Hail holy temple of my guardian God!

ELECTRA.
And daily, as the sun ascends to noon,
The vot'ries still their pious visits pay.
But though no more the guilty court esteems
The God or worship, here Egysthus's spies,
Keep constant watch, and list with greedy ear,
E'en to the tenour of the pilgrim's prayer.
Retire my brother; shun their deadly sight;
Come when 'tis dark, and I will meet you then.

ORESTES.
I know the danger, but I trust the Gods
And my own destiny. Full well I know,
That the usurper, conscious of his crimes,
And dreading retribution, has contrived
A subtile and infernal enginry,
To crush the fruit of justice in the germ.

ELECTRA.
There's not a place it does not penetrate.
The sacred temples hold the tyrant's echoes.—
Know you, Egysthus has already heard
The number and equipment of your men?

ORESTES.
But of our enterprize he cannot know.

PYLADES.
Rumour is taught, that we advance ourselves
In quest of labours and romantic feats.

ORESTES.
Has not Egysthus heard of this?

ELECTRA.
He has.

ORESTES.
And laughs at us?

PYLADES.
Is it not so, Electra?

ELECTRA.
I never enter in the Tyrant's circle.
My feminine and simple pray'r is still,
That all your purposes may be for good,
And for their aim, be prosper'd by the Gods.

ORESTES.
What! though they mock at us, my dear Pylades,
They know us not, nor can their downward thoughts
Conceive the scope and motives of our daring.
Let them laugh on, while we pass to the goal
Of our magnificent and awful purpose.

ELECTRA.
But here, Orestes, do not linger now.
The very air is here a whisperer;
And as the viewless arrows of the pest,
The unknown ministers of vengeance speed,
And give the death before the victims feel,
Or fear themselves infected.—Stay not here.

ORESTES.
You must, Electra, then be spy for us.
The troops are waiting in the mountain pass,
With all prepared, the signals and the signs.
Pylades, safe in his disguise, will here
Attend your intimations. In the temple,
I will the anxious interval employ.

SCENE IV.

Electra and Pylades.
ELECTRA.
Come, gentle cousin, let me lean on thee.
My heart shrinks in me. All the glowing joy
With which I heard Orestes was arrived,
Is changed into a chilling apprehension.

PYLADES.
Be more of heart; take courage from the hope
That leads our bold adventure. Rouse yourself
With the remembrance of your injuries.

ELECTRA.
I have so long on bitter sorrow fared,
That hope which should with chearfulness inspire,
Like opiates, faithless to the fever'd brain,
Has heighten'd my disease. If ye should fail,
What may the fell usurper not attempt?
Already, from my lost unhappy mother,
His eye regardless roves; and I have felt
With sad abhorrence, his impassioned glance,
Flame on my conscious cheek.

PYLADES.
This day, Electra,
Will end your suffering and rebuild your fortune.

ELECTRA.
Yes; or forever desolate my hopes.
I was the worshipp'd daughter of a king,
But now I am below all slavery!

PYLADES.
Why yield you, gentle, to this sickly thought;
The cloud that has so long obscur'd your lustre,
Is swiftly passing, and the world again
Will own your regal brightness.

ELECTRA.
Ah Pylades;
Fortune may change the hues of outward show,
But cannot 'raze the truths engraven here.

PYLADES.
Ha! Who is this?

ELECTRA.
Egysthus! save yourself!

SCENE V.

Egysthus and Electra.
EGYSTHUS.
Why turn you from me, and deny my sight,
The Heav'nly radiance of your gentle eyes?
What, though Orestes be no more?—

ELECTRA.
What he?

EGYSTHUS.
So says the rumour. Flesh is frail and mortal.
Nor tears, nor love itself that conquers all,
Can bribe the stern and greedy miser, Death,
E'er to unlock the coffer of the grave,
And give one jewel from his hoarded treasures.

ELECTRA.
When did he die? How came the tidings here?

EGYSTHUS.
'Tis said, that he, gone errant with Pylades,
Fell in some battle near the spartan border.

ELECTRA.
If he fell nobly, he fell not too soon.
What is there here, in this rude world of time,
But shocks, and turbulence, and pain, and sorrow.

EGYSTHUS.
You seem content, nor look as one that hears
Such tidings of a brother. How is this?

ELECTRA.
He had but tasted bitterness and grief;
What joy had he to lose? What cause have I
To mourn for one that has escaped from woe?

EGYSTHUS.
Ah, pensive fair; could I but minister
To thy solace, and from this chance of fate,
Draw hope or comfort to a lover's heart!

ELECTRA.
What would you, sir? I pray you, let me pass.

EGYSTHUS.
Console you; and in sympathy unite,
My kindest soothing to allay your sorrow.

ELECTRA.
My mother, sir, needs more your consolation.—
I pray unhand me, that I may retire?

EGYSTHUS.
Sweetest Electra, why so shy and perverse?
Why would'st thou tear from me, thy gentle hand?
Why, with thy scorn, so harshly wring my heart;
My wounded heart, that but thy smiles can cure!

ELECTRA.
Abhorr'd Incestuous! Heav'n! give me strength
To shake the monster from his loathsome hold.

EGYSTHUS.
This maiden artifice improves thy beauties.
Me-thinks the virgin glow upon thy cheek,
Deepens to ripeness, tempting to be gathered.—
O sure, these nimble sparklings of thine eyes,
Glance more of love than scorn.

ELECTRA.
Hence! dreadful man.
O Gods! by what unnat'ral transmutation
Of nature and of reason, does this wretch,
Foul with my father's blood, and from the couch
Of my ill-fated mother, newly risen,
Breathe this pollution in my tingling ears.

EGYSTHUS.
Less indignation, fair, disdainful maid.
Orestes' death leaves me free king of Argos,
And what I will, I may.—

ELECTRA.
Orestes' death!
Think'st thou, the righteous and tremendous Gods,
Had only him to be thy punisher?
Tyrant! beware and tremble; on thee fast
Rolls the inevitable vengeance down,
Like burning lava, dark, with clouds o'erspread.

SCENE VI.

Clytemnestra and Egysthus.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Dearest Egysthus! now art thou all king.
The rabble vulgar, who refused the name,
Will, at the tidings of Orestes' death,
Confer it freely.

EGYSTHUS.
Thou hast a stout heart,
To wear such blithesome ruddy on thy cheeks,
When tears should bleach them for a gallant son.

CLYTEMNESTRA.
Alas! you ill requite me. Oh! Egysthus,
The masterful and cherish'd love for thee,
Has drained the mother's nature from my breast.
Have I not doted so intensely on thee,
That all regard of duty, vows, and fame,
Have been as vile impediments push'd by,
That I might take thee with a larger grasp?

EGYSTHUS.
Come, come, dear wife; take not my words so sadly,
I meant no taunt.

CLYTEMNESTRA.
But I, with anxious pain,
See oft thy eyes to other women stray.

EGYSTHUS.
No chidings, dame.—If this day's news prove true,
I'll make our Argos blaze, as bright again
As on your wedding-day with Agamemnon.

CLYTEMNESTRA.
Why name him to me? Oh! let him, Egysthus,
Lie quiet in that bloody sepulchre,
Where we, untimely laid him. His grim shade
That nightly visits my perturbed sleep,
Needs not the aid of your remorseless slight,
To barb its dread reproach.

EGYSTHUS.
What, penitent!
Now, this is but a woman's shallow trick,
To hide your jealousy. Dear Clytemnestra,
Love, once departed, will not come again,
By showing him the chaff of former fare.
Cupid has wings, the poets say, to fly:
Though, like the bee, he roves from flower to flower,
He will not always feed on cloying sweet.
Knowest thou, fair, that fondness may grow flat,
And smack of staleness too, yea turn to sour.
Come! learn philosophy; 'tis time you should.

CLYTEMNESTRA.
'Tis time, indeed, when I am taught by you!