Though for the purposes of her intended crime, she endeavoured to hide her savage passion from the curious eyes around her, she could not altogether conceal it; and the light of burning hate which shone in her eyes when she gazed upon the guilty King and Queen was seen and marked by many. She was carefully shunned by her slave companions—all save one, who still kept to her allegiance and suffered the blows of her fellows for so doing—who despised her for the degraded position she had been forced into, and spoke against her haughty behaviour and denunciatory words; and Clytemnestra herself went in secret fear of her wrathful daughter, and avoided her presence as much as possible.
One day, when seven years had gone by and still there came no signs of Orestes, Elektra's passionate feelings so far overcame her that she at last resolved to carry out vengeance upon the murderers of her royal father ere another sun should rise; and to this end she sought the assistance of her sister, who was physically stronger than herself and could, therefore, use a weapon with surer effect.
Chrysosthemis, however, was of a far gentler nature, and instead of having nursed feelings of vengeance in her heart during the seven dark years that had passed, she only desired freedom from her enforced servitude and the protecting care which a husband's love would give to her; and, full of horror at Elektra's bloodthirsty designs, she entreated her to put away such terrible thoughts from her mind, declaring that their guilty mother already suspected her designs and would presently cause her to be cast into prison.
Hearing the Queen even now approaching, Chrysosthemis departed, entreating her sister to accompany her; but Elektra was not afraid, and she determined to disarm suspicion from her mother's mind by holding flattering talk with her.
When Clytemnestra presently appeared, therefore, she addressed her in respectful tones, as though speaking to a goddess; and the Queen, completely deceived, desired her attendants to withdraw that she might talk alone with her seemingly humbled daughter, heedless of their whispered words of warning to her against the latter.
When the slaves had retired, Clytemnestra, who had a hunted frightened look in her eyes, told the ragged Princess that she had been troubled with terrible dreams, and asked advice for recovering her peace of mind; and Elektra, in a tone of deep mystery, declared that this could only be attained by the sacrifice of a woman—the deed to be done by a man who must be of noble nature and not base as was Ãgisthos.
Immediately Clytemnestra guessed who was in the mind of Elektra—her own son, Orestes, of whom she went in constant fear, believing him to be still alive; and Elektra, realising from her mother's sudden look of fear that she had never received definite news of the death of Orestes, though she had caused false reports of the same to be given to her daughters, now flung off her pretended mood of mildness, and once more furiously denounced the Queen as a murderess and declared that vengeance would surely fall upon her.
Clytemnestra shrank back in terror before her daughter's torrent of passionate words; but at that moment one of her attendants returned and informed her that a messenger had just arrived and had brought with him a report that Orestes was indeed dead.
Relieved by this, to her, welcome news, Clytemnestra retired to her own chamber with a laugh of triumphant scorn; and soon afterwards Chrysosthemis ran weeping to Elektra, telling her of the report of their brother's death which had been given to her by the slave who had been sent by the Queen to inform Ãgisthos of the fact.
Though stricken with woe at this confirmation of her own fear, Elektra once more earnestly entreated the help of her sister in carrying out her scheme of vengeance against the murderers of their father, telling her that she had already in hiding the great axe with which the guilty pair had done the fell deed; but though she promised her great honours and many gifts afterwards, and even offered to become her slave, Chrysosthemis only trembled with horror at the idea of slaying her own mother, and, utterly refusing to take part in so terrible a crime, she rushed away, followed by the curses of Elektra, who, obsessed by her one desire for vengeance to the exclusion of every other natural emotion, now resolved to carry out her purpose alone and unaided.