University of Virginia Library

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,
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;
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! ...