[As he speaks, he becomes excited.
El. Ah me, my brother! your eyes roll and tremble—
One moment sane, and now swift frenzy fires you!
[Orestes speaks to phantoms in the air.
Or. Mother, I sue to thee: nay, mother, hound not
Those blood-faced, snake-encircled women on me!
There! There! See there—close by they bound upon me!
El. Stay, wretched brother; start not from the bed!
For nought you see of what seems clear and certain.
Or. O Phœbus! They will slay me, those dog-faced,
Fierce-eyed, infernal ministers, dread goddesses!
El. I will not leave you! but with woven arms
Will stay you from the direful spasm-throes.
[Orestes hurls Electra, from him.
Or. Let go! Of my damned Furies thou art one,
That with thy grip wouldst hale me down to hell!
El. Ah, woe is me! what succor shall I find,
Seeing the very gods conspire against us?