University of Virginia Library

SCENE 3rd.

—A Prison.
Electra.—Phanor enters.
PHANOR.
Ægisthus comes.

ELECTRA.
Is there yet more to bear?

ÆGISTHUS
enters.
Go, Phanor—

ELECTRA.
No—be present—stir not hence—
With him I hold not secret conference.—

ÆGISTHUS.
Yield not to vain suspicions—if thou wilt,
Detain him—bid him strictly note each word,
Record each look—Yet, were no witness near,
Woman, the weakness of thy sex protects thee.
Thou hast no cause for fear.—

ELECTRA.
Phanor, retire.— (he goes).

We dread not whom we scorn—speak, I am mute.

ÆGISTHUS.
I would that we had met in fitter place!

ELECTRA.
It suits a sufferer that delights in grief:
It suits an outrag'd soul that broods on vengeance:
It suits the day, the deed, thee most, base murderer!
Look on these chains: think on the groans of death
That echoed through these vaults.

ÆGISTHUS.
I come to grant
What thou hast oft implor'd.

ELECTRA.
I oft have claim'd
Rights still deny'd: the melancholy right
To shed a tear on the unhonour'd tomb
Of him whom thou did'st slay—I ne'er implor'd thee.

ÆGISTHUS.
'Twere well that thou had'st sued—time was, Electra,
That I with gifts and proffer'd kindness sought
To sooth thy haughty spirit.

ELECTRA.
Gifts! to me!
Tyrant! thou speak'st to Agamemnon's daughter!
No bribe can lure the lion race to fawn—

ÆGISTHUS.
Therefore the lion race is gall'd with chains.

ELECTRA
—(with vehement indignation.)
Where art thou, brother?—I had hope in thee—
The sun keeps on his course, and the firm earth
Rests on its base—Yet Jove holds sway in heav'n.—

ÆGISTHUS.
I come to free thee from these slavish chains:
Free thee from nuptials that disgrace thy birth,
And bid thee offer at a father's tomb
The long-neglected rites.—

ELECTRA.
Thou mock'st me, tyrant—

ÆGISTHUS.
I loose thy chains.—

ELECTRA.
No—not a link shall fall.—
These bonds are precious to me—time shall come
When such may chain thee where the Furies close
Their adamantine rivets.—

ÆGISTHUS.
Dost thou wish
To honor Agamemnon?

ELECTRA.
More than life—
If life the sacrifice, my father! hear me!
For thee, another daughter gladly dies.
Iphigenia bleeds again in me.

ÆGISTHUS.
Go forth, and place on Agamemnon's tomb
Thy mother's offerings.

ELECTRA.
Said I not, thou mock'st me?—

ÆGISTHUS.
I mock thee not. 'Tis Clytemnestra's will.

ELECTRA.
Her will! aid, heav'n! repentance yet may touch her!
Yes. I will bear the offerings. Lead me to her.

(Exeunt.