My trust is in Apollo's oracle That bade me set forth on this enterprise, With high command and threats of dire disease To gripe my vitals if I failed to wreak Vengeance upon my father's murderers, Enjoining me to slay as they had slain, Taking no fine as quittance for his blood. For this was I to answer with my life. And as I would escape the penalties [Footnote: This passage is corrupt or dislocated, and perplexes the commentators. I have tried to give the general sense.] That injured and neglected ghosts demand; As fell diseases that with cankering maw Eat the distempered flesh from off the bones, Madness and panic fears that haunt by night; Then banishment from human intercourse; From the libation, from the loving cup, And from the altar, whence a father's wrath Unseen should drive the recreant; at the last Death without honour and without a friend.-- Think ye that I such oracles could slight? And if I did, the deed must still be done; For many motives join to set me on: The gods command, my murdered father calls For vengeance, and my desperate need impels; All bid me save our famous citizens, Troy's glorious conquerors, from the base yoke Of yonder pair of women; for his heart Is womanish, if not, we soon will know. * * * * * _CLYTAEMNESTRA PLEADS TO HER SON ORESTES FOR HER LIFE IN VAIN._ LINES 860-916. SERVANT. Alas! my lord is slain, my lord is slain, My lord is slain; Aegisthus is no more. Haste and unbar the woman's chamber, haste; Be stirring, or your aid will come too late. What, ho! what, ho! I shout unto the sleeping or the deaf. Whither has Clytaemnestra gone? What does she? Now is the queen on peril's sharpest edge, And like to fall by the avenger's sword. CLYTAEMNESTRA. How now? What means this shouting in the house? SERVANT. It means that dead men kill and live men die. CLYTAEMNESTRA. Ah me! Too well I can thy riddle guess; By treason as we slew, we shall be slain. Fetch me the axe, which well this hand can wield, And we will strike for death or victory, For to this mortal issue have we come. ORESTES. 'Tis thee I seek; thy leman has enough. CLYTAEMNESTRA. Ah me! Aegisthus, then, my love, is slain. ORESTES. Thy love is he? Then shalt thou share his tomb, And be his faithful consort to the end. CLYTAEMNESTRA. Oh, stay thy hand, my child, and spare this breast, On which so often thou didst slumbering lie And suck with baby lips the milk of life. ORESTES. Say, Pylades, shall nature's plea be heard? PYLADES. Half of Apollo's best has been fulfilled; Think on the other half and on thine oath. Better defy the world than brave the gods. ORESTES. Thou hast well spoken, and I do assent. (_To_ CLYTAEMNESTRA.) Come in; I'll lay thee at thy leman's side. He to my father living was preferred, And now in death his partner thou shalt be, The guerdon due to thy adulterous love. CLYTAEMNESTRA. I nursed thee; let me at thy side grow old. ORESTES.