ELECTRA
77
Orestes.
I lifted over mine eyes
My mantle: blinded I smote,
As one smiteth a sacrifice;
And the sword found her throat.
Electra.
I gave thee the sign and the word;
I touched with mine hand thy sword.
Leader.
Dire is the grief ye have wrought.
Orestes.
Sister, touch her again:
Oh, veil the body of her;
Shed on her raiment fair,
And close that death-red stain.
—Mother! And didst thou bear,
Bear in thy bitter pain,
To life, thy murderer?
[The two kneel over the body of Clytemnestra, and cover her with raiment.
Electra.
On her that I loved of yore,
Robe upon robe I cast;
On her that I hated sore.
Chorus.
O House that hath hated sore,
Behold thy peace at the last!
