 | Electra |  |
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ACT THE FOURTH.
SCENE THE FIRST.
Scene, an anti-chamber in the palace.ORESTES and PYLADES, meeting.
ORESTES.
My Pylades!—most happily return'd.
You went to mark the tyrant's progress—say,
How did my subjects seem affected with it?
PYLADES.
Sure never triumph wore so sad a face.
As thro' the city, in imperial pomp,
Ægysthus rode, I mingled with the crowd,
Observant in their eyes to read their hearts.
As thro' the city, in imperial pomp,
Ægysthus rode, I mingled with the crowd,
Observant in their eyes to read their hearts.
The blaze of splendor was august and proud:
But little satisfaction seem'd to give
To those for whose delight it was display'd.
The gay retinue of the pageant king
Chaunted a solemn pæan—which the people
Answer'd with deep-fetch'd sighs, and groans of anguish.
Where-e'er I look'd, each bosom heav'd opprest,
And ev'ry eye was dimn'd with mournful moisture.
But little satisfaction seem'd to give
To those for whose delight it was display'd.
The gay retinue of the pageant king
Chaunted a solemn pæan—which the people
Answer'd with deep-fetch'd sighs, and groans of anguish.
Where-e'er I look'd, each bosom heav'd opprest,
And ev'ry eye was dimn'd with mournful moisture.
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Blest be the omen!—ev'ry eye be blest
That dropt one tear in pity to Orestes.
PYLADES.
The wary tyrant with his guards gone forth,
The city now is open to surprize—
And I impatient for the glorious struggle
Will lift thee to a throne. But, my Orestes,
The part thou'st now to act will task thy pow'rs.
I know thy nature gentle, therefore warn thee
To arm thy heart with double resolution,
Lest stealing pity for a guilty mother
Should soften rigour, and defeat thy justice.
ORESTES.
A guilty mother!—My belov'd companion,
From out the palace-windows that command,
In distant prospect, great Apollo's fane,
Send an observing eye, and nicely mark
The motions of our friends. I know not why,
But my imagination's on the rack—
Go, my good Pylades, and bring me word
What you observe is passing.
PYLADES.
I'll away.
But must adjure thee, by thy thirst for glory,
To rouze resentment—harden indignation—
And arm thy soul to combat ev'ry horror.
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SCENE THE SECOND.
ORESTES, solus.
Horror indeed!—A mother!—if she's guilty,
The Gods, and not a son, must punish her.
For me to point my sword against the breast
That gave me infant nourishment—dire thought!
It shakes my fiercest—firmest purposes.
The Gods, and not a son, must punish her.
For me to point my sword against the breast
That gave me infant nourishment—dire thought!
It shakes my fiercest—firmest purposes.
I saw her sigh—I saw ev'n tears steal from her,
To hear the fabled story of my death.
She could not weep without some touch of nature—
Which not to feel—was not to be a woman.
To hear the fabled story of my death.
She could not weep without some touch of nature—
Which not to feel—was not to be a woman.
But what's the feeling of a heart that dar'd
So dire an outrage on a husband's life?
Fury re-kindles!—detestation heaves!—
And tumult and distraction fire my brain!
So dire an outrage on a husband's life?
Fury re-kindles!—detestation heaves!—
And tumult and distraction fire my brain!
Watch me, good Gods! in ev'ry start and transport!
Arrest my arm if phrenzy should provoke,
And save me from the guilt of matricide.
Heav'ns!—she is here!—I shudder to behold her.
Arrest my arm if phrenzy should provoke,
And save me from the guilt of matricide.
Heav'ns!—she is here!—I shudder to behold her.
[He retires backwards.
SCENE THE THIRD.
ORESTES and CLYTEMNESTRA, musing.CLYTEMNESTRA.
Vain is my search for peace, who bear about
The cause that makes each place alike uneasy.
O restless wretchedness of conscious guilt!—
Sure what we feel's akin to what we fear—
And souls like mine anticipate damnation.
The cause that makes each place alike uneasy.
O restless wretchedness of conscious guilt!—
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And souls like mine anticipate damnation.
How vain the pomps and glories that surround me!
How insufficient to confer that bliss
The virtuous beggar knows. His scraps are banquets,
And his sleep elysium—compar'd with mine.
My tasteless palate loaths the choicest viands—
My bed's a nest of serpents—and my mind
The cave of terror, anguish and dismay!
Spectres and goblins haunt the dreary scene!
In fancy furies hiss—fell demons howl—
And all is horror—agony—despair!—
Where-e'er I look, a husband's mangled form
Rises before me!—and in ev'ry sound
I hear his groans, his cries and exclamations!
How insufficient to confer that bliss
The virtuous beggar knows. His scraps are banquets,
And his sleep elysium—compar'd with mine.
My tasteless palate loaths the choicest viands—
My bed's a nest of serpents—and my mind
The cave of terror, anguish and dismay!
Spectres and goblins haunt the dreary scene!
In fancy furies hiss—fell demons howl—
And all is horror—agony—despair!—
Where-e'er I look, a husband's mangled form
Rises before me!—and in ev'ry sound
I hear his groans, his cries and exclamations!
ORESTES
, apart.
She seems disorder'd!
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Heard I not a noise!—
Who's there?—The youth on whom my eyes could hang,
I know not why, forever with delight.
He wakes, whene'er I see him, the rememb'rance
That I had once a son—my joy—my pride!
But prov'd a murd'ress—not a mother to him.
ORESTES
, advancing.
I'll probe the wound—tho' hopeless of a cure.
[Aside.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Whence, gentle stranger, that thou'rt lonely here
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So suited to a gay and youthful mind.
ORESTES.
Mine is but ill-dispos'd to relish pleasures.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Can melancholy taint so young a heart?
Or hast thou from misfortune found a cause
To pine in pensive sadness?
ORESTES.
Oh!—A great one!
The loss of a deserving, long-lov'd friend.
CLYTEMNESRTA.
Then thy affliction has a gen'rous plea.
Yet as an evil that we know must come,
The noble mind should be prepar'd to meet it;
Nor suffer sorrow to usurp too highly
For what's inevitable.
ORESTES.
Death, 'tis true,
Is the condition life is granted on—
A debt that all must pay. The parent, lover,
The friend and husband, know the hour will come
Which must divide the best-cemented hearts.
Yet, howe'er common—tho' prepar'd and arm'd,
A real loss will make the firmest feel.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
I know it well—know nature will have scope—
And passion mock at reason's wisest precepts.
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We only, who remain behind, are loosers;
For death's to many a relief from care,
To none an evil—if not made by guilt.
Yet where a bright assemblage of all virtues
Blaze early forth, and meet a timeless blast,
Like those which I lament, not only friends,
But all mankind should sadden at the loss.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Who was this wonder?
ORESTES,
The much-injur'd heir
Of glorious Agamemnon! who had sworn,
My soul assenting to the solemn vow,
Never to rest, till to that hero's ghost
He'd sacrific'd the spoiler of his life.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Do'st thou not know me—thou presumptuous boy?
ORESTES.
Well—and must teach you too, to know yourself.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
What would'st thou aim at?—To assassinate—
ORESTES.
No, by the Gods!—But if thou art a woman,
The strings of wife and mother I must strike,
And jar them on thy heart. Thy royal lord,
Leader of monarchs, vanquisher of Troy,
The noblest warriour, and the first of kings,
By thy devices, thy accomplice fell.
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Hah!—
ORESTES.
Are you stricken?—Seize the only means
That can redeem your name from infamy,
Your soul from endless torments. Earth and heav'n
Demand the punishment of him who dar'd
To violate all laws, divine and human,
By an assault on majesty. Each God
There lost a sacred representative—
As ev'ry subject did a gracious father:
But most your son—your unoffending son—
Blood of your Blood—
CLYTEMNESTRA.
If life be worth thy care—
ORESTES.
Down on thy knees—and to the awful Gods
Swear with the foe of regicides and traitors,
To rend this pest of nature from the seat
His guilt first gave him, and his crimes have stain'd,
Or, by the vengeance of a murder'd husband—
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Unhand me, beardless ruffian—nor presume
Thus to profane my sex and dignity
With such unlicenc'd outrage—or, this moment,
The violation of all sacred rights
Draws ruin irrevocable upon thee.
ORESTES.
Raise boist'rous passion to the height it reach'd
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Summon the furies, give the damn'd beneath
An hour of horrid joy! Bid the winds roar,
The mountain-billows clash, the earth be shook,
And set the skies on fire!—Amid'st their wreck,
Did'st thou, a dreadful deity, preside,
I'd fearless face thee to arraign such crimes!
Urge the loud cry of men and Gods for justice—
Compel the stroke—or punish the refusal.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
To men and Gods—to thee and Agamemnon—
Orestes—all, I dare avow the deed—
Exult and glory in it!—Would again,
Tho' the red bolt were hissing in the hand
Of heav'ns almighty thund'rer, bravely strike
For happy freedom from the man who wrong'd me.
ORESTES.
The complicated vengeance will have way,
And thus o'erwhelms thee [going to kill her, but stops.
—Everlasting Gods!—
Whither was phrenzy goading desperation?—
Gape hell, and save me from a crime so horrid.
[falls on his face.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
But, to thy ruin, indignation prompts
A surer aim—
[snatching up the sword, and going to kill him.
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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.
SCENE THE FIFTH.
ORESTES, CLYTEMNESTRA, ELECTRA and PYLADES, with his sword drawn.PYLADES.
Arm, my friend,
We are betray'd—the city is all strife—
Slaughter and tumult rage in ev'ry street!
Hither contending parties seem to bend
Their furious course—delay not—follow me.
SCENE THE SIXTH
ORESTES, CLYTEMNESTRA and ELECTRA.ELECTRA.
O my distracting fears!—my brother—
ORESTES.
Gods!
Comes disappointment at my fortune's crisis?
ELECTRA.
Nay, do not linger—
ORESTES.
Will not—
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Go, my children,
And be the Gods your guides to sure escape.
ORESTES.
Will you not with us seek one common safety?
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Preserve yourselves—my fortune cannot wrong me—
Nor will I hazard or impede your flight.
ORESTES.
Electra—
ELECTRA.
Say—
ORESTES.
You must not stay behind.
ELECTRA.
I will not.
ORESTES.
Follow near me—
ELECTRA.
On—lead on.
SCENE THE SEVENTH.
CLYTEMNESTRA.sola.
Whither shall I—but 'tis no matter whither—
My torments cling too close to be shook off—
And for the rest—'tis all beneath regard.
[Shouting behind.
My torments cling too close to be shook off—
And for the rest—'tis all beneath regard.
Hark!—Whence that clam'rous joy!—Some dire mishap
Befalls my children!—In my bosom sheathe
Your sacrilegious swords, ye sons of slaughter,
But spare the wrong'd—O spare the innocent.
Befalls my children!—In my bosom sheathe
Your sacrilegious swords, ye sons of slaughter,
But spare the wrong'd—O spare the innocent.
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SCENE THE EIGHTH.
Scene, an open place within the city.MELISANDER, ÆTHON and Nobles.
ÆTHON.
Confusion! They have gain'd the palace.
MELISANDER.
Then
The prince and all our hopes together perish.
ÆTHON.
'Tis desperation—but we will advance
And force our way—or resolutely fall.
SCENE THE NINTH.
MELISANDER, ÆTHON, Nobles and ARCAS.ARCAS.
Lost and undone!—Our numbers, over-match'd,
Shrink back, appall'd!—the princes cannot join us.
MELISANDER.
Great Gods!—how curst a treachery!
ÆTHON.
Behold
The royal Pylades!
SCENE THE TENTH.
MELISANDER, ÆTHON, ARCAS, Nobles and PYLADES.ARCAS.
O welcome, prince—
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On ev'ry side confusion gathers round us!
Our ranks are broken—all is dire dismay!
MELISANDER.
Where did you leave Orestes?
PYLADES.
At th' alarm
I bade him follow—sure he loiter'd not,
For staying but a moment was perdition.
I hardly scap'd the foremost foes, who prest
To join the palace-guards for its defence.
MELISANDER.
Then fear informs me he's forever lost!
ÆTHON.
'Tis but our risking life—
ARCAS.
'Twill be in vain:
They are so strong in numbers, we shall rush
On fruitless slaughter. Let us hope, my brothers,
That he has joined some party of our friends.
ÆTHON.
See! they press on us!
MELISANDER.
'Tis no place of safety.
Nor can we dally—for the God of day
Is near his western goal.—Sound a retreat.
[A retreat founded behind.
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SCENE THE ELEVENTH.
Scene, an anti-chamber in the palace.ÆGYSTHUS, CLYTEMNESTRA and Attendants.
ÆGYSTHUS.
The treason was refin'd!—They'd deeply laid
Their hellish plot—an hour, a minute more
Had lost my kingdom.—'Twas my faithful Lycon,
Whose ardent zeal is ever on the watch,
That gain'd me timely notice.—Clytemnestra!
What means that downcast and averted look?
By all my glorious hopes, thou art in league
With damn'd conspirators against my life.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
What can I answer?—Words and vows are fruitless,
Where rude suspicion takes from innocence
Its pure and native whiteness. Hast thou foes
Who are not such to me? Or guilt to answer
Of which my soul is clear?—What wonder then,
In scenes like this, if apprehension fills
My heart with horror, and my eyes with tears.
SCENE THE TWELFTH.
To them LYCON, with ORESTES and ELECTRA, guarded.ÆGYSTHUS
, embracing LYCON.
My crown and life's preserver!—Welcome, Lycon—
What tidings of the rebels?
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In confusion,
They have retreated to the sacred grove?
A hold so strong, that all attempts to force it,
Till farther aids are gather'd, might prove fatal.
They have retreated to the sacred grove?
A hold so strong, that all attempts to force it,
Till farther aids are gather'd, might prove fatal.
Pardon the trespass, if their active zeal
Has been too forward, but my soldiers seiz'd
The princess with this youth, as they attempted
Escaping from the palace to the foe.
Has been too forward, but my soldiers seiz'd
The princess with this youth, as they attempted
Escaping from the palace to the foe.
ÆGYSTHUS.
Secure 'em both—by heav'n they both shall rue it.
That beardless stripling with his life shall pay
The price of so abhor'd and foul a treason.
And for yon viper, whose invenom'd teeth,
Would tear my vitals, on her head shall drive
The storm directed with such rage at mine.
'Twill joy me to behold her writhing pangs—
Her groans will sound like music's sweetest notes,
Her tears be dropping balm to my repose.
Drag 'em away.
ELECTRA.
I'll not sollicit mercy:
For could I stoop to ask it, well I know,
From knowing thee, that I should ask in vain.
For could I stoop to ask it, well I know,
From knowing thee, that I should ask in vain.
The debt of piety I owe a father—
A murder'd father—and the dear regard
An injur'd brother claims, would move compassion
Ev'n in a foe who had humanity,
Did I acknowledge all that you suspect.
But I'm before a judge whose heart is iron;
And whose invet'racy would turn the test
Of spotless innocence against itself.
Be rancour then indulg'd. Sate your revenge
With all the tortures cruelty can frame—
I'll strive to meet them with such fortitude
As courage gives, and dignity demands.
A murder'd father—and the dear regard
An injur'd brother claims, would move compassion
Ev'n in a foe who had humanity,
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But I'm before a judge whose heart is iron;
And whose invet'racy would turn the test
Of spotless innocence against itself.
Be rancour then indulg'd. Sate your revenge
With all the tortures cruelty can frame—
I'll strive to meet them with such fortitude
As courage gives, and dignity demands.
But since my blood must stream, let mine suffice.
This hapless youth, unfriended and unknown,
Whom I persuaded to assist my flight,
Deserves no share of punishment.
This hapless youth, unfriended and unknown,
Whom I persuaded to assist my flight,
Deserves no share of punishment.
ORESTES.
Hear me,
Since I it was who counsell'd her to go.
'Twas I was privy to the plot against you,
And first appriz'd her of it. She was drawn
By fond affection for a long-lost brother,
But to behold him. As a helpless woman,
She could not injure—could not wield a sword,
As I had sworn to do, against your crown.
ELECTRA.
His aim is to deceive you—
ORESTES.
Heed her not—
ELECTRA.
Alas! he raves!
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No I am calm, and fearless—
Disdaining safety from a woman's peril.
ÆGYSTHUS.
By my best wishes, this distracted struggle
Starts a surmise that's worthy my pursuing.
Such wonderful regard—such flaming zeal
Of each to save the other makes it plain—
He can be—is, no other than Orestes.
ORESTES.
Suspicion will suggest the means for proof—
Nor shall my honour take the stain of falsehood—
Then know me for the rightful monarch here.
I will not stoop from royalty so low
As to sollicit, or accept your favour:
But to th' unerring justice of the Gods
Submit my lot—let them determine it.
ÆGYSTHUS.
A mind so haughty in a state so abject,
Fails of its end, not kindling admiration.
An impotence of pride's ally'd to folly,
And, as it merits, ever meets derision.
Fails of its end, not kindling admiration.
An impotence of pride's ally'd to folly,
And, as it merits, ever meets derision.
But your heroic spirits shall be try'd.
Alike your vaunted fortitude exert,
For both shall suffer.
Alike your vaunted fortitude exert,
For both shall suffer.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Can I tamely stand,
And see my children doom'd to death before me!
No—agonizing nature prompts the plea
Which sure would soften ev'n offended Gods!
And see my children doom'd to death before me!
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Which sure would soften ev'n offended Gods!
O my Ægysthus! if you ever lov'd
[kneeling.
Your Clytemnestra, spare her panting bowels,
And wade no farther on in guiltless blood.
[While Clytemnestra is speaking, Ægysthus talks with Lycon.
My soul's already on distraction's verge!
Ah! timely stop the arm of violence—
For so much slaughter have my eyes beheld,
That more must make me mad.
[kneeling.
Your Clytemnestra, spare her panting bowels,
And wade no farther on in guiltless blood.
[While Clytemnestra is speaking, Ægysthus talks with Lycon.
My soul's already on distraction's verge!
Ah! timely stop the arm of violence—
For so much slaughter have my eyes beheld,
That more must make me mad.
ÆGYSTHUS
, apart to LYCON.
'Tis wisely urg'd—
Their deaths would worse inflame the factious spirits.
LYCON
, apart to ÆGYSTHUS.
And should the fortune of your arms give way,
Their persons may secure your terms.
ÆGYSTHUS
, apart to LYCON.
'Tis true,
And well advis'd. They shall not suffer now—
We'll weigh this matter farther.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Turn, in pity,
And see these streaming eyes—
ÆGYSTHUS.
Detested sight!
Be dumb upon this theme—or, by the Gods!
You share the doom you never shall revoke.
CLYTEMNESTRA
, Rising.
Be those just Gods as deaf to your petition
In life's last fearful moments.
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Say'st thou!—Traitress.
Hence, from my sight.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Would I had been so ever.
ÆGYSTHUS.
Seize her, and force her instantly away.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Inhuman tyrant!—off—stand off—I'm calm—
And, tho' insulted, know me for a queen.
And, tho' insulted, know me for a queen.
My anguish swells too high for tears or words—
Thou can'st not frown me dead—I wish thou could'st—
Then might I find an end of guilt and sorrow.
Thou can'st not frown me dead—I wish thou could'st—
Then might I find an end of guilt and sorrow.
O heart too hard for wrongs or griefs to break—
When will thy suff'rings cease?—Distressful sight!—
The innocent and injur'd weep at woes
Too justly merited by wrongs to them.
Celestial pow'rs!—protect my helpless children—
They've now no hope of succour but from you.
When will thy suff'rings cease?—Distressful sight!—
The innocent and injur'd weep at woes
Too justly merited by wrongs to them.
Celestial pow'rs!—protect my helpless children—
They've now no hope of succour but from you.
SCENE THE THIRTEENTH.
ÆGYSTHUS, LYCON, ORESTES, ELECTRA and Guards.ÆGYSTHUS.
Take hence these boasters, and in sep'rate dungeons
See them secur'd from converse and from light.
ELECTRA.
A lot I've long been exercis'd for bearing.
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I was prepar'd, Electra, to die with thee:
But not to live divided.
ELECTRA.
Fear not life.
We shall not long lament each other's absence.
I know the Ruler of our fates too well
To dread that cruel kindness.
ORESTES.
Then we part—
ELECTRA.
Forever!
ORESTES.
Killing thought!
ELECTRA.
Nay do not weep.
ORESTES.
Ne'er 'till this moment did I taste affliction:
For ev'ry ill I've hitherto encounter'd
Was happiness, compar'd with what I feel
In this heart-rending—O malicious fortune!—
Could ruin reach me not without involving
Innocence like thine? A planet so malignant
Rul'd at my hour of birth, that I am destin'd
To murder all who love me.
ELECTRA.
Do not grudge
The satisfaction that my heart receives
In dying with thee—for thee—
ÆGYSTHUS.
Force 'em hence.
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Fell ministers—indulge me an embrace—
I ask no more. Electra!—to thy fate
I am constrain'd to yield thee up.
ELECTRA.
This pang,
Tho' not the last, will be by far the sharpest
Our issuing souls can suffer—
ORESTES.
Oh!—Farewel.
Orestes goes off, guarded; and after him, Electra.
SCENE THE FOURTEENTH.
ÆGYSTHUS and LYCON.ÆGYSTHUS.
Fortune befriends me still!—I live—I triumph!
While treason grovels in the chains she forg'd
Wherewith to shackle majesty.—My Lycon,
Be thine the disposition of our host.
While night her dark dominion shall maintain,
With caution guard the palace from surprize.
We'll think, ere Phœbus mounts his radient seat,
Of means to make our victory complete.
End of the FOURTH ACT.
| Electra | |