 | Electra |  |
SCENE THE FOURTH.
CLYTEMNESTRA, sola.
Barbarian, stay.—He's gone—he's gone to doom 'em!
To bathe his ruthless hands in orphan-blood
And rend the entrails of a wife!—Great Gods!
Arrest the fell assassin's impious arm,
And turn his dagger on the heart that's guilty.
[Distant shouting behind.
Hah!—whence that shout!—my trembling soul alarm'd,
Now shrinks at each intruding apprehension!
[Shouting again.
Another!—and approaching!—let 'em come—
Let gath'ring mischiefs cluster, and involve
The injur'rs with the injur'd.—Pow'rs of mercy!—
However justice deals with such as me—
Oh! interpose and succour—save my children.
| Electra | |