 | Orestes |  |
SCENE THE ELEVENTH.
Electra.Elec.
Alas! I tremble ... She is still my mother:
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Behold her children erewhile on the brink
Of an opprobrious death, and did she shew,
In their behalf, the courage and the grief
That now she feels for him?—At length the day,
The wish'd-for day, is come. At length, oh tyrant!
Thou fall'st a bloody victim.—Once again
I hear the palace walls rebound with screams,
As on that horrible ensanguined night,
In which my father lay a murdered corse,
I heard it some time echo.—Even now
Orestes' hand hath dealt the mortal blow;
Ægisthus falls; the people's loud acclaim
His death announces. Lo! Orestes comes
Triumphant: and his right-hand grasps a sword
Reeking with blood.
| Orestes | |