Enter the Shade of Clytemnestra.
Clytemnestra.
Sleeping? All sleeping! Ho! What need of sleepers?
While I roam restless, of my fellow-dead
Dishonoured and reproached, by fault of you,
That when I slew swift vengeance overtook me.
But being slain myself, my avengers sleep
And leave my cause to drift! Hear me, sleepers!
Such taunts I bear, such contumelious gibes,
Yet not one god is touched with wrath to avenge