Orestes is; but living! I saved thee, brother;
I keep myself for thee, till the day rise
When thou shalt make to stream upon yon tomb
Not helpless tears like these, but our foe's blood.

While Electra fiercely muses, Clytemnestra enters, with the appeal:

_Cly._ Daughter!

_El._ What voice! Oh Heaven, thou here?

_Cly._ My daughter,
Ah, do not fly me! Thy pious task I fain
Would share with thee. Aegisthus in vain forbids,
He shall not know. Ah, come! go we together
Unto the tomb.

_El._ Whose tomb?

_Cly._ Thy--hapless--father's.

_El._ Wherefore not say thy husband's tomb? 'T is well:
Thou darest not speak it. But how dost thou dare
Turn thitherward thy steps--thou that dost reek
Yet with his blood?

_Cly._ Two lusters now are passed
Since that dread day, and two whole lusters now
I weep my crime.