Cly.—­Then let Atrides perish.

     Aegis.—­How?  By what hand?

          Cly.—­By mine, this very night,
     Within that bed which he expects to share
     With this abhorred slave.

     Aegis.—­O Heavens! but think ...

     Cly.—­I am resolved ...

     Aegis.—­Shouldst thou repent? ...

          Cly.—­I do
     That I so long delayed.

     Aegis.—­And yet ...

          Cly.—­I’ll do it;
     I, e’en if thou wilt not.  Shall I let thee,
     Who only dost deserve my love, be dragged
     To cruel death?  And shall I let him live
     Who cares not for my love?  I swear to thee,
     To-morrow thou shalt be the king in Argos. 
     Nor shall my hand, nor shall my bosom tremble ... 
     But who approaches?

     Aegis.—­’Tis Electra ...

          Cly.—­Heavens! 
     Let us avoid her.  Do thou trust in me.

     SCENE II

     ELECTRA

          Electra—­Aegisthus flies from me, and he does well;
     But I behold that likewise from my sight
     My mother seeks to fly.  Infatuated
     And wretched mother!  She could not resist
     The guilty eagerness for the last time
     To see Aegisthus.—­They have here, at length,
     Conferred together ...  But Aegisthus seems
     Too much elated, and too confident,
     For one condemned to exile ...  She appeared
     Like one disturbed in thought, but more possessed
     With anger and resentment than with grief ... 
     O Heavens! who knows to what that miscreant base,
     With his infernal arts, may have impelled her! 
     To what extremities have wrought her up!... 
     Now, now, indeed, I tremble:  what misdeeds,
     How black in kind, how manifold in number,
     Do I behold! ...  Yet, if I speak, I kill
     My mother:  ...  If I’m silent—? ...

     ACT V—­SCENE II

     AEGISTHUS—­CLYTEMNESTRA

     Aegis.—­Hast thou performed the deed?

     Cly.—­Aegisthus ...

          Aegis.—­What do I behold?  O woman,
     What dost thou here, dissolved in useless tears? 
     Tears are unprofitable, late, 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? ...

          Aegis.—­Was not thine the counsel? 
     Love gave it thee, and fear recants it.—­Now,
     Since thou’rt repentant, I am satisfied;
     Soothed by reflecting that thou art not guilty,
     I shall at least expire.  To thee I said
     How difficult the enterprise would be;
     But thou, depending more than it became thee