Look on the blood, and see her lie,
Thy mother, where she turned to die?

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