Orest. How, slighting this, shall I escape my father's?
Clytæm. I seem in life to wail as to a tomb.[[455]]
Orest. My father's fate ordains this doom for thee.
Clytæm. Ah me! the snake is here I bare and nursed.[[456]]
Orest. An o'er-true prophet was that dread dream-born;
Thou slewest one thou never should'st have slain,
Now suffer fate should never have been thine.
[Exit Orestes, leading Clytæmnestra into the
palace, and followed by Pylades
Chor. E'en of these two I wail the twin mischance;