I yield me to thy will. Or dost prefer
At one fell stroke to smite away my head?
My neck awaits thy deadly aim. Let crime975
By other crime be purged. Thy hands are stained
And reeking with thy murdered husband's blood:
Come, cleanse them in the fresher stream of mine.
[Enter Aegisthus.]
Clytemnestra: Thou partner of my perils and my throne,
Aegisthus, come; this most unnatural child
Assails her mother and her brother hides.980