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Howells, William Dean, 1837-1920

"Modern Italian Poets Essays and Versions"


_El._ Pylades, go! Run, run! Oh, stay her! fly;
Bring her back hither! [_Exit_ PYLADES.
I shudder! She is still
His mother, and he must have pity on her.
Yet only now she saw her children stand
Upon the brink of an ignoble death;
And was her sorrow and her daring then
As great as they are now for him? At last
The day so long desired has come; at last,
Tyrant, thou diest; and once more I hear
The palace all resound with wails and cries,
As on that horrible and bloody night,
Which was my father's last, I heard it ring.
Already hath Orestes struck the blow,
The mighty blow; already is Aegisthus
Fallen--the tumult of the crowd proclaims it.
Behold Orestes conqueror, his sword
Dripping with blood!
_Enter_ ORESTES.
O brother mine, come,
Avenger of the king of kings, our father,
Argos, and me, come to my heart!
_Or._ Sister,
At last thou seest me Atrides' worthy son.
Look,'t is Aegisthus' blood! I hardly saw him
And ran to slay him where he stood, forgetting
To drag him to our father's sepulcher.
Full twice seven times I plunged and plunged my sword
Into his cowardly and quaking heart;
Yet have I slaked not my long thirst of vengeance!
_El_. Then Clytemnestra did not come in time
To stay thine arm?
_Or.


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