Cly.—­O Heavens! what wouldst thou do? 
     Sheathe, I command thee, sheathe that fatal sword.—­Oh,
     night of horrors!... hear me...  Perhaps Atrides
     Has not resolved...

          Aegis.—­What boots this hesitation?... 
     Atrides injured, and Atrides king,
     Meditates nothing in his haughty mind
     But blood and vengeance.  Certain is my death,
     Thine is uncertain:  but reflect, O queen,
     To what thou’rt destined, if he spare thy life. 
     And were I seen to enter here alone,
     And at so late an hour...  Alas, what fears
     Harrow my bosom when I think of thee! 
     Soon will the dawn of day deliver thee
     From racking doubt; that dawn I ne’er shall see: 
     I am resolved to die:...—­Farewell... forever!

     Cly.—­Stay, stay...  Thou shalt not die.

          Aegis.—­By no man’s hand
     Assuredly, except my own:—­or thine,
     If so thou wilt.  Ah, perpetrate the deed;
     Kill me; and drag me, palpitating yet,
     Before thy judge austere:  my blood will be
     A proud acquittance for thee.

          Cly.—­Madd’ning thought!... 
     Wretch that I am!...  Shall I be thy assassin?...

          Aegis.—­Shame on thy hand, that cannot either kill
     Who most adores thee, or who most detests thee! 
     Mine then must serve....

     Cly.—­Ah!... no....

          Aegis.—­Dost thou desire
     Me, or Atrides, dead?

     Cly.—­Ah! what a choice!...

     Aegis.—­Thou art compelled to choose.

     Cly.—­I death inflict ...

     Aegis.—­Or death receive; when thou hast witnessed mine.

     Cly.—­Ah, then the crime is too inevitable!

     Aegis.—­The time now presses.

     Cly.—­But ... the courage ... strength? ...

     Aegis.—­Strength, courage, all, will love impart to thee.

          Cly.—­Must I then with this trembling hand of mine
     Plunge ... in my husband’s heart ... the sword? ...

          Aegis.—­The blows
     Thou wilt redouble with a steady hand
     In the hard heart of him who slew thy daughter.

     Cly.—­Far from my hand I hurled the sword in anguish.

          Aegis.—­Behold a steel, and of another temper: 
     The clotted blood-drops of Thyestes’s sons
     Still stiffen on its frame:  do not delay
     To furbish it once more in the vile blood
     Of Atreus; go, be quick:  there now remain
     But a few moments; go.  If awkwardly
     The blow thou aimest, or if thou shouldst be
     Again repentant, lady, ere ’tis struck,
     Do not thou any more tow’rd these apartments
     Thy footsteps turn:  by my own hands destroyed,
     Here wouldst thou find me in a sea of blood
     Immersed.  Now go, and tremble not; be bold. 
     Enter and save us by his death.—­