_Aegis._ Where are the strangers, then? Tell this to me. _Elec._ Within; for they have found a loving hostess. _Aegis._ And did they say distinctly he was dead? _Elec._ Ah no! they showed it, not in words alone. _Aegis._ And is it here, that we may see it plain? _Elec._ 'Tis here, a sight most pitiful to see. _Aegis._ Against thy wont thou giv'st me cause for joy. _Elec._ Thou may'st rejoice, if this be ground of joy. _Aegis._ I hid you hush, and open wide the gates That all of Argos and Mycenae see, So if there be that once were lifted up With hopes they had, vain hopes they fixed on him, Now seeing him dead, they may receive my curb, And finding me their master, sense may gain Without coercion. _Elec._ And that end is reached By me; for I by time have wisdom gained, To yield to those more mighty. _The doors are thrown open, and disclose Orestes and Pylades standing by the dead body of Clytaemnestra, which is covered with a sheet and a veil over the face._ _Aegis._ Lo, I see, O Zeus, a sight that comes right well for me. (Without offence I say it; should it move The wrath divine, I wish it all unsaid.) Withdraw the veil which hides the face, that I To kindred blood may pay the meed of tears. _Ores._ Do thou uplift it. 'Tis thy task not mine, To look on this, and kindly words to speak. _Aegis._ Thou giv'st good counsel, and I list to thee, And thou, if yet she tarries in the house, Call Clytaemnestra. _Ores._ (_as Aegisthus lifts the veil_) Here she lies before thee, Seek her not elsewhere, {1474} _Aegis._ Oh what sight is this! _Ores._ Whom fearest thou? Who is't thou dost not know? _Aegis._ Into whose snares, whose closely-tangled mesh Have I, poor victim, fallen? _Ores._ Saw'st thou not Long since that thou didst speak to them that live As they were dead? _Aegis._ Ah me! I catch thy words. It needs must be that he who speaks to me Is named Orestes. _Ores._ Wert thou then deceived, Thou excellent diviner? _Aegis._ Woe is me! I perish, yet permit me first to speak One little word. _Elec._ Give him no leave to speak, By all the gods, my brother, nor to spin His long discourse. When men are plunged in ills What gain can one who stands condemned to die Reap from delay? No, slay him out of hand; And, having slain him, cast him forth, to find Fit burial at their hands from whom 'tis meet That he should have it, far away from view. Thus only shall I gain a remedy