Know, at thy years 'twere heavy to be schooled;
Greybeard, grow wise: 'tis said, the word: "Be ruled."

Aged as thou art, yet fast and fettering chain,
The soul's chief leeches, can the mettle train
E'en of hoar age: this seeing, seest not thou
With thine eyes open wide-nay, kick not now
Against the goads, lest thou thy roughness rue.

CHORUS.

[TO QUEEN CLYTEMNESTRA.]

Lady, thy Lord from battle came, all new
With conquest, whilst thyself forsooth his true
House Guardian didst e'en then his bed defile,
And 'gainst a War-king plot this death of guile.

ÆGISTHUS.

These words too the beginnings are of sorrow,
Patriarchs and sires of many a sore to-morrow.
Thy tongue is not like Orpheus', but thereto
Clean counter, for with him all things he drew,
For joy of his sweet voice; whilst thou men's souls,
Stirring and chafing them with baby-howls
Instead, wouldst fain drag after thee :-nay soon,
Well handled thou shalt sing a softer tune.

CHORUS.

As if forsooth thou wert my King to be,
Thou !—and that Argives own their Lord in thee;
Who this man's death didst plot, yet for thy part
Daredst not the deed thyself, from lack of heart.268

ÆGISTHUS.

Aye-for to wile was plainly woman's work,
Whilst upon me would sure suspicion lurk,

His ancient foe. But I with this man's gold
Will strive in fee the townsmen's faith to hold.
And him that heeds me not, the colt unbroke,
Unto mine heaviest tackle will I yoke,

No outrigger, but throughly harnessed,
Fat as he is my dainty one-oatfed.269

Nay more, gaunt famine, that with darkness dwells,
Shall see him tamest of the tractables.27

CHORUS.

270

So this man's murder, thing of felon-soul,
Alone thou didst not, nor canst claim the whole;
A woman thine accomplice; one whose hand,
Curse of our country's Gods and Father-land,
Slew him.-

[Then turning from ÆGISTHUS to the others of the CHORUS.]
But doth Orestes anywhere

Still see the light of heaven, still breathe the air,
That coming down with favouring fortune he
The all-mastering slayer of these twain may be?

ÆGISTHUS.

Well, since thou'rt for doing and not talking, thou shalt soon have proof :—

Up, then friends and guardsmen, for this matter stands not far aloof.

CHORUS.

Up! yes, up! and let each comrade handle well his broad-sword's hilt.

ÆGISTHUS.

Hilt in hand then, I refuse not now to die, an this thou

wilt.

CHORUS.

Yes we will it, we accept thy word to die; our chance we

take.

QUEEN CLYTEMNESTRA.

[To ÆGISTHUS.]

Nay, most dear of men, more mischiefs will we stay for pity's sake.

Many woes are ripe for culling, ripe the hapless harvest stands:

Bane enough is ours, henceforward dip we not in blood our hands.

[To the CHORUS-LEADER.]

Hence too thou, with these thine Ancients, hence to thine appointed home,

Ere ye do and suffer; it sufficeth, what on us hath come. If enough of these sore travails have befallen us

o'er :

-'tis

Bear we this our burthen, smitten by the demon's anger

sore.

If a man will deign to learn it, here ye have my woman's

lore.

ÆGISTHUS.

But that they at me should carp and flourish with their hollow tongue,

Tempting thus their demon, flinging out the taunts that they have flung,271

Missing temperate counsel, mocking thus their master

and their Lord

CHORUS.

Nay, the men of Argos never fawn upon a man abhorred.

ÆGISTHUS.

Well, but in the latter days, Sirs, I will be among ye yet.

CHORUS.

Not if, brought by his good demon, here his foot Orestes

set.

ÆGISTHUS.

Yes I know some running outlaws feed on hopes for wheat and bran.272

CHORUS.

Fare and feed, wax fat and sully right and truth since

Mark me, ye shall pay requital for this folly, vain old

men.

CHORUS.

Plume thyself and crow and bluster like a cock beside his hen.

QUEEN CLYTEMNESTRA.
[To ÆGISTHUS.]

Set no store on these vain yelpings: I and thou, with arm of might,

Ruling royally these mansions, this will set, and all things right.

[They turn, and enter the Palace in royal state, closely attended; and the first play of the ORESTEAN Trilogy ends.]

F

THE EPILOGUE.

[AFTER GOETHE,IPHIGENIA,' ACT III.]

THE day her Father Agamemnon fell,
Electra hid, and so, delivered,

Her brother, young Orestes. Strophius,
His Father's kinsman, graciously received
And brought him up with Pylades his son;
Thenceforth in tie of tenderest friendship bound
Unto the stranger. Up to manhood grew
The youth and his adopted brother, while
Grew with their growth, and ripened in their heart,
A violent longing to avenge the death

Of the great King. Unlooked for, and disguised
In strange attire, they journey on, and reach
Mycenæ, carrying themselves craftily
As message-bearers of Orestes' death
And bringers of his ashes. Courteously
Them the Queen Clytemnestra welcoming,
Received. They entered at the palace gate.
Orestes to his Sister then revealed

His name and purpose. She, with quickening breath,
Rekindled in his heart that coal of vengeance
Which in the sacred presence of his Mother
Had nigh died out to darkness. Silently
She takes him onward to the accursed stone
Where fell his Father, and there points him out
A half-dimmed blood-spot on the oft-scoured floor,
That with its faint streak of ill augury