Against two conquerors all alone,
His last death-grapple, deep in blood,
Orestes joineth. . . . O great God,
Give victory!
Ha! The deed is done!
Leader.
How? What is wrought? Stand further from the door
Till all is over. Move apart before
Men mark, and deem us sharers in the strife.
For after this 'tis war, for death or life.
[The Women stand back almost unseen. A Household Slave rushes out from the main Door, and beats at the door of the Women's House.
Slave.
Ho!
Treason! Our master! Treason! Haste amain!
Treason within. Aigisthos lieth slain.
Unbar, unbar, with all the speed ye may
The women's gates! Oh, tear the bolts away! . . .
God, but it needs a man, a lusty one,
To help us, when all time for help is gone!
What ho!
I babble to deaf men, and labouring cry,
To ears sleep-charmèd, words that fail and die.
Where art thou, Clytemnestra? What dost thou? . . .
'Fore God, 'tis like to be her own neck now,
In time's revenge, that shivers to its fate.
58
