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Howells, William Dean, 1837-1920

"Modern Italian Poets Essays and Versions"

Against my blood I grow
Cruel once more.
_Aeg._ Thou knowest well the Argives
Do hate thy face, and at the sight of thee
The fury were redoubled in their hearts.
The tumult rises. Ah, thou wicked wretch,
Thou wast the cause! For thee did I delay
Vengeance that turns on me now.
_Cly._ Kill me, then!
_Aeg._ I'll find escape some other way.
_Cly._ I follow--
_Aeg._ Ill shield wert thou for me. Leave me--away, away!
At no price would I have thee by my side! [_Exit._
_Cly._ All hunt me from them! O most hapless state!
My son no longer owns me for his mother,
My husband for his wife: and wife and mother
I still must be! O misery! Afar
I'll follow him, nor lose the way he went.
_Enter_ ELECTRA.
_El._ Mother, where goest thou! Turn thy steps again
Into the palace. Danger--
_Cly._ Orestes--speak!
Where is he now? What does he do?
_El._ Orestes,
Pylades, and myself, we are all safe.
Even Aegisthus' minions pitied us.
They cried, "This is Orestes!" and the people,
"Long live Orestes! Let Aegisthus die!"
_Cly._ What do I hear?
_El._ Calm thyself, mother; soon
Thou shalt behold thy son again, and soon
Th' infamous tyrant's corse--
_Cly.


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