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 unobserved, I hope.  I was constrained
     To bring the news myself, that now my life
     Is irrecoverably forfeited
     To the king’s vengeance...

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

          Aegis.—­More than he would wish
     Atrides hath discovered of our love;
     And I already from him have received
     A strict command not to depart from Argos. 
     And further, I am summoned to his presence
     Soon as to-morrow dawns:  thou seest well
     That such a conference to me is death. 
     But fear not; for I will all means employ
     To bear myself the undivided blame.

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

          Aegis.—­He knows too much:  I have but one choice left: 
     It will be best for me to ’scape by death,
     By self-inflicted death, this dangerous inquest. 
     I save my honor 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, unimpeached!  All thoughts of pity
     For me now lay aside; if I’m allowed
     By my own hand, for thy sake, to expire,
     I am supremely blest.

          Cly.—­Alas!...  Aegisthus... 
     What a tumultuous passion rages now
     Within my bosom, when I hear thee speak!... 
     And is it true?...  Thy death...

     Aegis.—­Is more than certain....

     Cly.—­And I’m thy murderer!...

     Aegis.—­I seek thy safety.

          Cly.—­What wicked fury from Avernus’ shore,
     Aegisthus, guides thy steps?  Oh, I had died
     Of grief, if I had never seen thee more;
     But guiltless I had died:  spite of myself,
     Now, by thy presence, I already am
     Again impelled to this tremendous crime... 
     An anguish, an unutterable anguish,
     Invades my bones, invades my every fibre... 
     And can it be that this alone can save thee?... 
     But who revealed our love?

          Aegis.—­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 honor.

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

          Aegis.—­Believe it, then,
     On the authority of this my sword,
     If thou believ’st it not on mine.  At least
     I’ll die in time...