Discerner he of portents, and the cleanser

Of other homes- behold, his own to cleanse! -

(She goes out. The central doors open, disclosing the interior of

the temple. ORESTES clings to the central altar; the FURIES

lie slumbering at a little distance; APOLLO and HERMES appear

from the innermost shrine.) -

APOLLO (to ORESTES)

Lo, I desert thee never: to the end,

Hard at thy side as now, or sundered far,

I am thy guard, and to thine enemies

Implacably oppose me: look on them,

These greedy fiends, beneath my craft subdued!

See, they are fallen on sleep, these beldames old,

Unto whose grim and wizened maidenhood

Nor god nor man nor beast can e'er draw near.

Yea, evil were they born, for evil's doom,

Evil the dark abyss of Tartarus

Wherein they dwell, and they themselves the hate

Of men on earth, and of Olympian gods.

But thou, flee far and with unfaltering speed;

For they shall hunt thee through the mainland wide

Where'er throughout the tract of travelled earth

Thy foot may roam, and o'er and o'er the seas

And island homes of men. Faint not nor fail,

Too soon and timidly within thy breast

Shepherding thoughts forlorn of this thy toil;

But unto Pallas' city go, and there

Crouch at her shrine, and in thine arms enfold

Her ancient image: there we well shall find

Meet judges for this cause and suasive pleas,

Skilled to contrive for thee deliverance

From all this woe. Be such my pledge to thee,

For by my hest thou didst thy mother slay. -

ORESTES

O king Apollo, since right well thou know'st

What justice bids, have heed, fulfil the same,-

Thy strength is all-sufficient to achieve. -

APOLLO

Have thou too heed, nor let thy fear prevail

Above thy will. And do thou guard him, Hermes,

Whose blood is brother unto mine, whose sire

The same high God. Men call thee guide and guard,

Guide therefore thou and guard my suppliant;

For Zeus himself reveres the outlaw's right,

Boon of fair escort, upon man conferred. -

(APOLLO, HERMES, and ORESTES go out. The GHOST OF CLYTEMNESTRA

rises.) -

GHOST OF CLYTEMNESTRA

Sleep on! awake! what skills your sleep to me-

Me, among all the dead by you dishonoured-

Me from whom never, in the world of death,

Dieth this course, 'Tis she who smote and slew,

And shamed and scorned I roam? Awake, and hear

My plaint of dead men's hate intolerable.

Me, sternly slain by them that should have loved,

Me doth no god arouse him to avenge,

Hewn down in blood by matricidal hands.

Mark ye these wounds from which the heart's blood ran,

And by whose hand, bethink ye! for the sense

When shut in sleep hath then the spirit-sight,

But in the day the inward eye is blind.

List, ye who drank so oft with lapping tongue

The wineless draught by me outpoured to soothe

Your vengeful ire! how oft on kindled shrine

I laid the feast of darkness, at the hour

Abhorred of every god but you alone!

Lo, all my service trampled down and scorned!

And he bath baulked your chase, as stag the hounds;

Yea, lightly bounding from the circling toils,

Hath wried his face in scorn, and flieth far.

Awake and hear- for mine own soul I cry-

Awake, ye powers of hell! the wandering ghost

That once was Clytemnestra calls- Arise! -

(The FURIES mutter grimly, as in a dream.) -

Mutter and murmur! He hath flown afar-

My kin have gods to guard them, I have none! -

- (The FURIES mutter as before.) -

O drowsed in sleep too deep to heed my pain!

Orestes flies, who me, his mother, slew. -

- (The FURIES give a confused cry.) -

Yelping, and drowsed again? Up and be doing

That which alone is yours, the deed of hell! -

- (The FURIES give another cry.) -

Lo, sleep and toil, the sworn confederates,

Have quelled your dragon-anger, once so fell! -

THE FURIES (muttering more fiercely and loudly)

Seize, seize, seize, seize- mark, yonder! -

GHOST

In dreams ye chase a prey, and like some hound,

That even in sleep doth ply woodland toil,

Ye bell and bay. What do ye, sleeping here?

Be not o'ercome with toil, nor, sleep-subdued,

Be heedless of my wrong. Up! thrill your heart

With the just chidings of my tongue,- such words

Are as a spur to purpose firmly held.

Blow forth on him the breath of wrath and blood,

Scorch him with reek of fire that burns in you,

Waste him with new pursuit- swift, hound him down!

- (The GHOST sinks.) -

FIRST FURY (awaking)

Up! rouse another as I rouse thee; up!

Sleep'st thou? Rise up, and spurning sleep away,