University of Virginia Library

ACT THE FIFTH.

SCENE THE FIRST.

Clytemnestra.
Cly.
Behold the hour.—Now Agamemnon lies
Buried in sleep... And shall he never more
Unclose his eye-lids to the cheerful light?
This my right hand, the pledge of chaste affection,

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Pledge of connubial faith, now arms itself
His death t'accomplish? ... This I have sworn to do?
Yes, too irrevocably sworn: ... Alas! ...
Now is the time to consummate my oath ..
My feet, my heart, my hands, throughout I tremble:
What do I undertake? .. What have I promised? ..
Oh! how in me hath all my fortitude
At the departure of Ægisthus vanish'd!
I see alone th'immense atrocity
Of my enormous crime: I see alone
The blood-besprinkled spectre of Atrides...
Ah what a sight! ... Crimes I impute in vain
To thee. Ah! no, thou lovest not Cassandra:
Far more than I deserve thou lovest me;
And me alone. The smallest crime thou hast not,
Except that thou art my husband. Ah Atrides!
And shalt thou from the arms of quiet sleep,
By me, be hurried to the arms of death? ...
Where shall I hide me when the deed is done? ...
Oh treason! ... Can I ever hope again
For peace? Oh what a horrid life of tears,
Of rage, and of remorse? .. How can Ægisthus,
In an ensanguined bed, and at the side
Of an atrocious, parricidal spouse,
Dare to repose? Will he not start to find
A murderer there? And tremble for his safety?—
Of all my shame, and all my wretchedness,
Abominable instrument, far, far
From me, thou instrument of death, oh far!
My lover I will lose, and lose with him
My life: but such a hero shall not fall,
Murder'd by me. Thou ornament of Greece,
Terror of Asia, live t'enjoy thy fame;

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For thy beloved children ... and a wife
More worthy of thy love.—What do I hear? ...
What stealing footsteps? ... Who could venture hither
At this dead hour of night? ... Ægisthus? ... Ah!
All is then lost! ...

SCENE THE SECOND.

Ægisthus, Clytemnestra.
Ægis.
Hast thou perform'd the deed?

Cly.
Ægisthus ...

Ægis.
What do I behold? Oh, lady,
What dost thou here, dissolved in useless tears?
Tears are unprofitable now, and vain,
And they may cost us dear.

Cly.
Thou here? ... but how?
Wretch that I am! what have I promised thee?
What impious counsel? ...

Ægis.
Was not thine this counsel?
Love gave it thee, and fear recants it.—Now,
Since thou art repentant, I am satisfied;
Soothed by reflecting that thou art not guilty,
I shall at least expire. To thee I said
How difficult the enterprize would be;
But thou, depending, more than it became thee,
On that, which is not in thee, virile courage,
Daredst thyself thy own unwarlike hand
For such a blow select. May heaven permit,
That the mere project of a deed like this,
May not be fatal to thee! I by stealth,
Protected by the darkness, hither came,
And I hope unobserved. I was constrain'd

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To announce to thee, myself, that now my life
Is irrecoverably forfeited
To the king's vengeance. ...

Cly.
What is this I hear?
Whence didst thou learn it?

Ægis.
More than he would wish,
Atrides hath discover'd of our love;
And I already from him have received
A strict command not to depart from Argos.
And further, I am summon'd to his presence
Soon as to-morrow dawns. Thou art convinced
That such a conference to me is death.
But fear not; for I will all means contrive
To draw the blame entirely on myself.

Cly.
What do I hear? Atrides knows it all?

Ægis.
He knows too much. I have but one choice left:
It will be best for me to evade by death,
By self-inflicted death, this perilous inquest.
I save thy honour thus, and free myself
From an opprobrious end. I hither came
To give thee my last warning, and to take
My last farewell... Oh live, and may thy fame
Live with thee, unimpeach'd! Pity no more,
Whom pity cannot aid: if I'm allow'd
By my own hand, for thy sake, to expire,
I am supremely blest.

Cly.
Alas! ... Ægisthus ...
What a tumultuary rage I feel
Within my bosom, when I hear thee speak! ...
And is it true? ... Thy death? ...

Ægis.
'Tis more than certain ...

Cly.
And I am thy murderer! ...


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Ægis.
I desire thy safety.

Cly.
What beckoning fury from Avernus' shore
Accompanies thy steps? Oh, I had died,
If I had never seen thee more, of grief;
But guiltless I had died: spite of myself,
Now, by thy presence, I already am
Again impell'd to this tremendous crime...
An anguish, an unutterable anguish,
Lives in my bones; in every fibre lives.
And can it be, that this alone can save thee?
But who reveal'd our love?

Ægis.
To speak of thee,
Who, but Electra, to her father, dare?
Who, to the monarch, breathe thy name, but she?
Thy impious daughter in thy bosom thrusts
The fatal sword; and ere she takes thy life
Would rob thee of thy honour.

Cly.
And ought I
This to believe? ... Alas!

Ægis.
Believe it thou
On the authority of my sword, if thou
Believest it not on mine. Ah, may I die
At least in time ...

Cly.
Oh heaven! what wouldst thou do?
Sheathe, I command thee, sheathe that fatal sword.
Oh night of horrors! ... hear me ... perhaps Atrides
Has not resolved.

Ægis.
What boots this hesitation?
Atrides injured, and Atrides king,
Meditates nothing in his haughty mind
But blood and vengeance. Certain is my death;
Thine is uncertain: but reflect, oh queen,
To what thou art destined, if he spare thy life.

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And were I seen to enter here alone,
And at so late an hour ... Alas, what fears
Harrow my bosom when I think on thee!
Soon will the dawn of day deliver thee
From racking doubt: that dawn I ne'er shall see;
I am resolved to die. Farewell ... for ever!

Cly.
Stay, stay ... Thou shalt not die.

Ægis.
By no man's hand,
Assuredly, except my own; or thine,
If so thou wilt. Ah, perpetrate the deed;
Kill me, and drag me, palpitating yet,
Before thy austere judge: my blood will be
A glorious acquittance.

Cly.
Maddening thought!
Wretch that I am! ... Shall I be thy assassin?

Ægis.
Shame on thy hand, that cannot either kill
Who most adores thee, or who most detests thee.
Mine then must serve. ...

Cly.
Ah! no. ...

Ægis.
Dost thou desire
Me, or Atrides, dead?

Cly.
Ah! what a choice!

Ægis.
Thou art compell'd to chuse.

Cly.
I inflict death? ...

Ægis.
Or death receive; when thou hast witness'd mine.

Cly.
Ah, then the crime is too inevitable!

Ægis.
The time now presses.

Cly.
But the courage, ... strength? ...

Ægis.
Strength, courage, all, will love impart to thee.

Cly.
Must I then with this trembling hand of mine
Plunge ... in my husband's heart ... the sword?


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Ægis.
The blows
Thou wilt redouble with a steady hand,
In the hard heart of him who slew thy daughter.

Cly.
Far ... from my hand ... I hurl'd the sword ... in anguish ...

Ægis.
Behold a sword, and of another temper:
The clotted blood-drops of Thyestes' sons
Still stiffen on its frame. Do not delay
To furbish it once more in th'impious blood
Of Atreus; be quick: there now remain
But a few moments; go. If awkwardly
The blow thou aimest, or if thou should'st be
Again repentant, lady, ere thou givest it,
Do not thou any more toward these apartments
Thy footsteps turn: by my own hands destroy'd,
Here would'st thou find me in a sea of blood
Immersed. ... Ah go, and tremble not; be bold,
Enter, and save us by his death.

SCENE THE THIRD.

Ægisthus, Agamemnon within.
Ægis.
Come forth,
Thyestes, from profound Avernus; come,
Now is the time: within this palace now
Display thy horrible shade. A copious banquet
Of blood is now prepared for thee, enjoy it:
Already o'er the heart of thy foe's son
Hangs the suspended sword; now, now he feels it:
An impious consort grasps it: it was fitting
That she, not I, did this: so much more sweet
To thee will be the vengeance, as the crime
Is more atrocious. An attentive ear

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Lend to the dire catastrophe with me;
Doubt not she will accomplish it: disdain,
Love, terror, to the necessary crime
Compel the impious lady.

Aga.
Traitress! Ah! ...
My wife? ... Oh heaven ... I die ... ah trait'rous deed! ...

Ægis.
Die thou, yes, die. And thou redouble, lady,
The blows redouble; all the weapon hide
Within his heart; shed, to the latest drop,
The blood of that fell miscreant: in our blood
He would have bathed his hands.

SCENE THE FOURTH.

Clytemnestra, Ægisthus.
Cly.
What have I done? ...
Where am I? ...

Ægis.
Hast thou slain the tyrant? Now
At length thou art worthy of me.

Cly.
See, with blood
The dagger drops; ... my hands, my face, my garments,
All, all are blood. ... Ah, for a deed like this
What vengeance shall be wreak'd? .. I see already,
Already to my breast that very sword
I see hurl'd back ... and by what hand! .. I freeze ..
I faint ... I shudder ... I dissolve with horror!
My strength ... my utterance ... fail me ... where am I? ...
What have I done? ... Alas! ...

Ægis.
Tremendous cries

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Resound on every side throughout the palace:
'Tis time to shew the Argives what I am,
And reap the harvest of my long endurance.

SCENE THE FIFTH.

Electra, Ægisthus, Clytemnestra.
Elec.
It still remains for thee to murder me,
Thou impious, vile assassin of my father...
But what do I behold? Oh heaven! my mother?
Flagitious lady, dost thou grasp the sword?
Did'st thou commit the murder?

Ægis.
Hold thy peace.
Stop not my path thus; quickly I return;
Tremble: for now I am the King of Argos.
Far more important is it that I kill
Orestes, than Electra.

SCENE THE SIXTH.

Clytemnestra, Electra.
Cly.
Oh heaven! ... Orestes? ...
Ægisthus, now I know thee...

Elec.
Give it me:
Give me that sword. ...

Cly.
Ægisthus! ... stop ... wilt thou
Murder my son? ... First shalt thou murder me.

SCENE THE SEVENTH.

Electra.
Elec.
Oh night! ... Oh father! ... Ah, it was your deed,

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Ye gods, this thought of mine to place Orestes
In safety first. Thou wilt not find him, traitor.
Ah live, Orestes, live; and I will keep
This impious sword for thy adult right hand.
The day, I hope, will come, when I in Argos
Shall see thee, the avenger of thy father.