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.
