door, desperately shouting for Clytæmnestra, who in a moment appears. His message, “The dead are slaying them that live,” is clear to her: doom is at hand, but she calls for her murderous axe. Orestes rushes out upon her with drawn sword. His first words announce the death of Ægisthus, and she beseeches him piteously for mercy. Orestes, unnerved, asks the counsel of Pylades, who for the first and last time speaks, reminding the prince of his oath and the command of Heaven. Clytæmnestra is driven within to be slain beside her lover. After a song of triumph from the chorus, the two corpses are displayed to the people; beside them stands Orestes who brings forth the blood-stained robe wherein Agamemnon was entangled. The sight of it brings upon the speaker a perturbation strange even in such circumstances. It is the coming of madness. He sees in fancy the Furies sent by his mother’s spirit, and rushes away to seek at Delphi the protection which Apollo has promised. The play ends with a few lines from the chorus lamenting the sinful history of the house. The _Choephorœ_ is less popular with modern readers than either of its companions. This is owing partly to the difficulty of perusal, for the text of the lyrics is often corrupt; it is still more due to no accident, but to technique. The second play of a trilogy was usually more statuesque than the other two. There is, of course, a progress of events, not merely a Phrynichean treatment of a static theme; but the poet carefully retards his speed. Thus the _Choephorœ_ should be compared rather with the _Prometheus_ than with the _Agamemnon_. We then observe an improvement—if we wish to call it so—in construction. The great Commos keeps the play almost[241] at a standstill; but the rest of the work is full of dramatic vigour.