Our pious faithfulness in vain consoles
Her grieving heart; her cruel woes reject
Our aid; the noble passion of her soul
Will not be ruled, but grows on ills renewed.
Alas, my fears forebode some desperate deed,55
Which may the gods forbid!
Octavia [heard speaking from within her chamber]: O fate of mine, that can no equal know!
Thy woes, Electra, were no match for these;
For thou couldst soothe with tears the grief thou hadst60
For thy dear father's fall; thou couldst avenge