Modern Italian Poets; Essays and Versions - LightNovelsOnl.com
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_Or._ In the palace still Somewhere he lurks; but I will drag him forth; By his soft locks I'll drag him with my hand: There is no prayer, nor G.o.d, nor force of h.e.l.l Shall s.n.a.t.c.h thee from me. I will make thee plow The dust with thy vile body to the tomb Of Agamemnon,--I will drag thee thither And pour out there all thine adulterous blood.
_El._ Orestes, dost thou not believe me?--me!
_Or._ Who'rt thou? I want Aegisthus.
_El._ He is fled.
_Or._ He's fled, and you, ye wretches, linger here?
But I will find him.
_Enter_ CLYTEMNESTRA.
_Cly._ Oh, have pity, son!
_Or._ Pity? Whose son am I? Atrides' son Am I.
_Cly._ Aegisthus, loaded with chains--
_Or._ He lives yet?
O joy! Let me go slay him!
_Cly._ Nay, kill me!
I slew thy father--I alone. Aegisthus Had no guilt in it.
_Or._ Who, who grips my arm!
Who holds me back? O Madness! Ah Aegisthus!
I see him; they drag him hither--Off with thee!
_Cly._ Orestes, dost thou not know thy mother?
_Or._ Die, Aegisthus! By Orestes' hand, die, villain! {_Exit._
_Cly._ Ah, thou'st escaped me! Thou shalt slay me first! {_Exit_.
_El._ Pylades, go! Run, run! Oh, stay her! fly; Bring her back hither! {_Exit_ PYLADES.
I shudder! She is still His mother, and he must have pity on her.
Yet only now she saw her children stand Upon the brink of an ign.o.ble death; And was her sorrow and her daring then As great as they are now for him? At last The day so long desired has come; at last, Tyrant, thou diest; and once more I hear The palace all resound with wails and cries, As on that horrible and b.l.o.o.d.y night, Which was my father's last, I heard it ring.
Already hath Orestes struck the blow, The mighty blow; already is Aegisthus Fallen--the tumult of the crowd proclaims it.
Behold Orestes conqueror, his sword Dripping with blood!
_Enter_ ORESTES.
O brother mine, come, Avenger of the king of kings, our father, Argos, and me, come to my heart!
_Or._ Sister, At last thou seest me Atrides' worthy son.
Look,'t is Aegisthus' blood! I hardly saw him And ran to slay him where he stood, forgetting To drag him to our father's sepulcher.
Full twice seven times I plunged and plunged my sword Into his cowardly and quaking heart; Yet have I slaked not my long thirst of vengeance!
_El_. Then Clytemnestra did not come in time To stay thine arm?
_Or._ And who had been enough For that? To stay my arm? I hurled myself Upon him; not more swift the thunderbolt.
The coward wept, and those vile tears the more Filled me with hate. A man that durst not die Slew thee, my father!
_El._ Now is our sire avenged!
Calm thyself now, and tell me, did thine eyes Behold not Pylades?
_Or._ I saw Aegisthus; None other. Where is dear Pylades? And why Did he not second me in this glorious deed?
_El._ I had confided to his care our mad And desperate mother.
_Or._ I knew nothing of them.
_Enter_ PYLADES.
_El._ See, Pylades returns--O heavens, what do I see?
Returns alone?
_Or._ And sad? Oh wherefore sad, Part of myself, art thou? Know'st not I've slain Yon villain? Look, how with his life-blood yet My sword is dripping! Ah, thou did'st not share His death-blow with me! Feed then on this sight Thine eyes, my Pylades!
_Pyl._ O sight! Orestes, Give me that sword.
_Or._ And wherefore?
_Pyl._ Give it me.
_Or._ Take it.
_Pyl._ Oh listen! We may not tarry longer Within these borders; come--
_Or._ But what--
_El_. Oh speak!
Where's Clytemnestra?
_Or._ Leave her; she is perchance Kindling the pyre unto her traitor husband.
_Pyl._ Oh, thou hast far more than fulfilled thy vengeance.
Come, now, and ask no more.
_Or._ What dost thou say?
_El._ Our mother! I beseech thee yet again!
Pylades--Oh what chill is this that creeps Through all my veins?
_Pyl._ The heavens--
_El._ Ah, she is dead!
_Or._ Hath turned her dagger, maddened, on herself?
