Clytem. [Within.] My son, my son,
Have pity on thy mother!
Εlec. Thou had'st none
On him, nor on the father that begat him.
Chor. Ο land! Ο miserable race! Thy doom
Each day is "perish, perish utterly."
Clytem. [Within.] Ah! I am smitten.
Εlec. Smite her yet again,
If thou hast strength for it.
Clytem. [Within.] Ah! Blow on blow!
Εlec. Would that Ægisthos shared them.
Chor. Yes. The curse
Is now fulfilled. The buried live again;
For they who died long since now drain in turn1420
The blood of those that slew them.
Enter Orestes and Pylades.
See! They come;
And lo! their crimsoned hands drip drops of gore
*Poured out to Ares; and I dare not blame.
Εlec. How fare ye now, Orestes?
Ores. All within
Is well, if well Apollo prophesied.
Εlec. And is she dead, vile wretch?
Ores. Yes. Fear thou not
Thy mother's mood shall e'er shame thee again.
Chor. Hush! for I see Ægisthos full in sight.[1430
Εlec. Back, back, ye boys!
Ores. [As he goes.] And see ye where this man . . . . ?
Εlec. He from the suburbs comes upon us now,
Rejoicing.
Chor. Go, full speed, behind the doors,
That ye, one work well done, may yet again . . . .
