Enter Orestes and Pylades from the other door
Orest. 'Tis thou I seek: he there has had enough.
Clytæm. Ah me! my loved Ægisthos! Art thou dead?
Orest. Lov'st thou the man? Then in the self-same tomb
880
Shalt thou now lie, nor in his death desert him.
Clytæm. [baring her bosom] Hold, boy! Respect
this breast of mine, my son,[[451]]
Whence thou full oft, asleep, with toothless gums,
Hast sucked the milk that sweetly fed thy life.