To exile; where I grew, and at the last Justice hath brought me home! Yea though outcast In a far land, mine arm hath reached this king; My brain, my hate, wrought all the counselling; And all is well. I have seen mine enemy Dead in the snare, and care not if I die! LEADER. Aigisthos, to insult over the dead I like not. All the counsel, thou hast said, Was thine alone; and thine the will that spilled This piteous blood. As justice is fulfilled, Thou shalt not ’scape—so my heart presageth—-The day of cursing and the hurlèd death. AIGISTHOS. How, thou poor oarsman of the nether row, When the main deck is master? Sayst thou so?… To such old heads the lesson may prove hard, I fear me, when Obedience is the word. But hunger, and bonds, and cold, help men to find Their wits.—They are wondrous healers of the mind! Hast eyes and seest not this?—Against a spike Kick not, for fear it pain thee if thou strike. LEADER (_turning from him to_ CLYTEMNESTRA). Woman! A soldier fresh from war! To keep Watch o’er his house and shame him in his sleep… To plot this craft against a lord of spears… [CLYTEMNESTRA, _as though in a dream, pays no heed._ AIGISTHOS _interupts._] AIGISTHOS. These be the words, old man, that lead to tears! Thou hast an opposite to Orpheus’ tongue, Who chained all things with his enchanting song, For thy mad noise will put the chains on thee. Enough! Once mastered thou shalt tamer be. LEADER. Thou master? Is old Argos so accurst? Thou plotter afar off, who never durst Raise thine own hand to affront and strike him down… AIGISTHOS. To entice him was the wife’s work. I was known By all men here, his old confessed blood-foe. Howbeit, with his possessions I will know How to be King. And who obeys not me Shall be yoked hard, no easy trace-horse he, Corn-flushed. Hunger, and hunger’s prison mate, The clammy murk, shall see his rage abate. LEADER. Thou craven soul! Why not in open strife Slay him? Why lay the blood-sin on his wife, Staining the Gods of Argos, making ill The soil thereof?…But young Orestes still Liveth. Oh, Fate will guide him home again, Avenging, conquering, home to kill these twain! AIGISTHOS. ’Fore God, if ’tis your pleasure thus to speak and do, ye soon shall hear! Ho there, my trusty pikes, advance! There cometh business for the spear. [_A body of Spearmen, from concealment outside, rush in and dominate the stage._] LEADER. Ho there, ye Men of Argos! Up! Stand and be ready, sword from sheath! AIGISTHOS. By Heaven, I also, sword in hand, am ready, and refuse not death! LEADER. Come, find it! We accept thy word. Thou offerest what we hunger for. [_Some of the Elders draw swords with the Leader; others have collapsed with weakness. Men from_ AGAMEMNON’S _retinue have gathered and prepare for battle, when, before they can come to blows,_ CLYTEMNESTRA _breaks from her exhausted silence._]