_Electra:_ Oh, let me perish by thy practiced hand! Behold, I leave the altar's sheltering side; Wilt plunge the knife into my tender throat? I yield me to thy will. Or dost prefer At one fell stroke to smite away my head? My neck awaits thy deadly aim. Let crime 975 By other crime be purged. Thy hands are stained And reeking with thy murdered husband's blood: Come, cleanse them in the fresher stream of mine. [_Enter_ Aegisthus.] _Clytemnestra:_ Thou partner of my perils and my throne, Aegisthus, come; this most unnatural child Assails her mother and her brother hides. 980 _Aegisthus:_ Thou mad and foolish girl, restrain thy tongue, For such wild words offend thy mother's ears. _Electra:_ Thou arch contriver of most impious crime, Wilt thou admonish me? Thou base-born wretch, Thou sister's son, and grandson of thy sire! 985 _Clytemnestra:_ Aegisthus, how canst thou restrain thy hand From smiting off her head? But hear my word: Let her give up her brother or her life. _Aegisthus:_ Nay, rather, in some dark and stony cell Let her be straight confined; and there, perchance, By cruel tortures racked, will she give up 990 Whom now she hides. Resourceless, starving there, In dank and loathsome solitude immured, Widowed, ere wedded, exiled, scorned of all-- Then will she, though too late, to fortune yield. _Electra:_ Oh, grant me death. _Aegisthus:_ If thou shouldst plead for life, I'd grant thee death. A foolish ruler he, 995 Who balances by death the score of sin. _Electra:_ Can any punishment be worse than death? _Aegisthus:_ Yes! Life for those who wish to die. Away, Ye slaves, seek out some dark and lonely cave, Far from Mycenae's bounds; and there in chains, Confine this bold, unmanageable maid, If haply prison walls may curb her will. 1000 [Electra _is led away_.] _Clytemnestra_ [_indicating_ Cassandra]: But she shall die, that rival of my couch, That captive bride. Go, drag her hence at once, That she may follow him she stole from me. _Cassandra:_ Nay, drag me not; for I with joy will go, Outstripping your desire. How eagerly I hasten to my Phrygians, to tell 1005 The news: the ocean covered with the wrecks Of Argive ships; Mycenae overthrown; The leader of a thousand leaders slain (And thus atoning for the woes of Troy) By woman's gift of wantonness and guile. Make haste! I falter not, but thank the gods, 1010 That I have lived to see my land avenged. _Clytemnestra:_ O maddened wretch, thy death I wait to see. _Cassandra:_ A fateful madness waits as well for thee. OCTAVIA OCTAVIA A FABULA PRAETEXTA THE ONLY EXTANT ROMAN HISTORICAL DRAMA INTRODUCTION