University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Orestes, Electra and Pylades.
ORESTES.
My sister! how is this? What would'st thou here?
This is no place now for thee to abide.
The troops are posted.—To thy room again;—
Our business ill thy gentle nature suits.

ELECTRA.
O my Orestes! let me stay with thee.
Alone I dare not trust my busy thoughts.
Unutterable fears, suggestions dire,
And cogitations of unhallow'd scope,
In spite of reason glide into my mind.
All seems unnat'ral, e'en the Gods are serv'd
With rites and worship reprobate and grim.
The glorious Phœbus, like dark Hecaté,
Is hail'd in orgies ghastly and obscure:
The fearful crowds with torches glaring flame,
Rush to his temple; howling and sad cries
Are heard for tuneful hymns; and clotted gore
Of felon victims, manacled with iron,
Dragg'd from the dungeons and in fury torn,
Besmear the silver altars of the God.

PYLADES.
Gentle Electra droop not so dismay'd.

ORESTES.
You know not yet the soul-inspiring cheer
Of these celestial assurances.
By such dread prodigies in heav'n and earth
Mysterious providence controuls mankind.
Let no one say such things are negative.

ELECTRA.
Thy mind, dear brother, teems with dark conceits.
I understand thee not, or wish I may not.

ORESTES.
Go to thy chamber, and abide our call.
Pylades lead her.—I will to the men,
Lest they too catch the horror of the time.