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Modern Italian Poets - Essays and Versions by William Dean Howells
page 81 of 358 (22%)
I go to him. Loose me, thou wicked girl!
At any risk I go, and may I only
Reach him in time! [_Exit._

_El_. Go to thy fate, then, go,
If thou wilt so, but be thy steps too late!
Why can not I, too, arm me with a dagger,
To pierce with stabs a thousand-fold the breast
Of infamous Aegisthus! O blind mother, oh,
How art thou fettered to his baseness! Yet,
And yet, I tremble--If the angry mob
Avenge their murdered king on her--O Heaven!
Let me go after her--But who comes here?
Pylades, and my brother not beside him?

_Enter_ PYLADES.

Oh, tell me! Orestes--?

_Pyl._ Compasses the palace
About with swords. And now our prey is safe.
Where lurks Aegisthus! Hast thou seen him?

_El._ Nay,
I saw and strove in vain a moment since
To stay his maddened wife. She flung herself
Out of this door, crying that she would make
Herself a shield unto Aegisthus. He
Already had fled the palace.

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