[Enter a slave
SLAVE
O woe, O woe, my lord is done to death!
Woe, woe, and woe again, AEgisthus gone!
Hasten, fling wide the doors, unloose the bolts
Of the queen’s chamber. O for some young strength
To match the need! but aid availeth nought
To him laid low for ever. Help, help, help!
Sure to deaf ears I shout, and call in vain
To slumber ineffectual. What ho!
The queen! how fareth Clytemnestra’s self?
Her neck too, hers, is close upon the steel,
And soon shall sink, hewn thro’ as justice wills.
[Enter Clytemnestra.
CLYTEMNESTRA
What ails thee, raising this ado for us?
SLAVE
I say the dead are come to slay the living.
CLYTEMNESTRA
Alack, I read thy riddles all too clear—
We slew by craft and by like craft shall die.
Swift, bring the axe that slew my lord of old;
I’ll know anon or death or victory—
So stands the curse, so I confront it here.
[Enter Orestes, his sword dropping with blood.
ORESTES
Thee too I seek: for him what’s done will serve.
CLYTEMNESTRA
Woe, woe! Aegisthus, spouse and champion, slain!
ORESTES
What lov’st the man? then in his grave lie down,
Be his in death, desert him nevermore!