Fourth Stasimon

CHORUS.Lo, the returns of wrong.The wind as a changèd thingWhispereth overheadOf one that of old lay deadIn the water lapping long:My King, O my King!

A cry in the rafters thenRang, and the marble dome:"Mercy of God, not thou,"Woman! To slay me now,"After the harvests ten"Now, at the last, come home!"

O Fate shall turn as the tide,Turn, with a doom of tearsFor the flying heart too fond;A doom for the broken bond.She hailed him there in his pride,Home from the perilous years,

In the heart of his wallèd lands,In the Giants' cloud-capt ring;Herself, none other, laidThe hone to the axe's blade;She lifted it in her hands,The woman, and slew her king.

Woe upon spouse and spouse,Whatso of evil swayHeld her in that distress!Even as a lionessBreaketh the woodland boughsStarving, she wrought her way.

VOICE OF CLYTEMNESTRA.O Children, Children; in the name of God,Slay not your mother!

A WOMAN.Did ye hear a cryUnder the rafters?

ANOTHER.I weep too, yea, I;Down on the mother's heart the child hath trod!(A death-cry from within.)

ANOTHER.God bringeth Justice in his own slow tide.Aye, cruel is thy doom; but thy deeds doneEvil, thou piteous woman, and on oneWhose sleep was by thy side!

(The door bursts open, and ORESTES and ELECTRA come forth in disorder. Attendants bring out the bodies of CLYTEMNESTRA and AEGISTHUS.)

LEADER.Lo, yonder, in their mother's new-spilt goreRed-garmented and ghastly, from the doorThey reel.... O horrible! Was it agonyLike this, she boded in her last wild cry?There lives no seed of man calamitous,Nor hath lived, like this seed of Tantalus.

ORESTES.O Dark of the Earth, O God,Thou to whom all is plain;Look on my sin, my blood,This horror of dead things twain;Gathered as one they lieSlain; and the slayer was I,I, to pay for my pain!

ELECTRA.Let tear rain upon tear,Brother: but mine is the blame.A fire stood over her,And out of the fire I came,I, in my misery....And I was the child at her knee.'Mother' I named her name.

CHORUS.Alas for Fate, for the Fate of thee,O Mother, Mother of Misery:And Misery, lo, hath turned again,To slay thee, Misery and more,Even in the fruit thy body bore.Yet hast thou Justice, Justice plain,For a sire's blood spilt of yore!

ORESTES.Apollo, alas for the hymnThou sangest, as hope in mine ear!The Song was of Justice dim,But the Deed is anguish clear;And the Gift, long nights of fear,Of blood and of wandering,Where cometh no Greek thing,Nor sight, nor sound on the air.Yea, and beyond, beyond,Roaming--what rest is there?Who shall break bread with me?Who, that is clean, shall seeAnd hate not the blood-red hand,His mother's murderer?

ELECTRA.And I? What clime shall holdMy evil, or roof it above?I cried for dancing of old,I cried in my heart for love:What dancing waiteth me now?What love that shall kiss my browNor blench at the brand thereof?

CHORUS.Back, back, in the wind and rainThy driven spirit wheeleth again.Now is thine heart made clean withinThat was dark of old and murder-fraught.But, lo, thy brother; what hast thou wrought....Yea, though I love thee.... what woe, what sin,On him, who willed it not!

ORESTES.Saw'st thou her raiment there,Sister, there in the blood?She drew it back as she stood,She opened her bosom bare,She bent her knees to the earth,The knees that bent in my birth....And I ... Oh, her hair, her hair....(He breaks into inarticulate weeping)

CHORUS.Oh, thou didst walk in agony,Hearing thy mother's cry, the cryOf wordless wailing, well know I.

ELECTRA.She stretched her hand to my cheek,And there brake from her lips a moan;'Mercy, my child, my own!'Her hand clung to my cheek;Clung, and my arm was weak;And the sword fell and was gone.

CHORUS.Unhappy woman, could thine eyeLook on the blood, and see her lie,Thy mother, where she turned to die?

ORESTES.I lifted over mine eyesMy 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!