SCENE, at first at Delphi, afterwards at Athens.
Priestess. Earth, the first prophetess, I worship first,
Then Themis, who, succeeding as by right,

After her mother filled th' oracular throne
(So the tradition runs), and uncompelled
Resigned it freely to her successor,
In order third, another child of Earth,
Titanian Phoebe, who to Phoebus gave

This throne, a birth-gift, and his name from hers.
He left his Delian rock and native lake,
Touched at the shores of Pallas, where along

Ships skim their way, and thence in pomp advanced
To this Parnassian seat and region,
Hephaestus' sons his escort, pioneers

That let daylight into the salvage gloom.
King Delphus and the people of the land,
On his arrival, hailed and worshipt him;
Zeus filled him with the spirit of prophecy,
Fourth on this throne, and prophet of the sire.
These powers I first invoke; and next I name
Pronæan Pallas, and adore the Nymphs
Who dwell within the deep Corycian caves,
The haunt of gods, and the resort of birds.
But Bromius owns the district, nor thereof
Am I unmindful ever since he led

His troop of Mænads, scheming such a doom
For Pentheus as the huntsman for the hare.
The founts of Pleistus, and Poseidon's might
Invoking, and the All-accomplisher,

The highest Zeus, I now resume my seat,
A prophetess-and may they grant me now
Better success than all my good before!
If any Greeks be present, let them come,
Settling, as is our custom, by the lot,
The order of their coming. I declare,
E'en as the god inspires, his oracles.

[She enters the Temple, but soon returns with signs of perturbation and terror.

Horrors to tell, and horrors to behold,

Have driven me from the temple. Weak and faint,
Unable to support my tottering steps,
Relying on my hands, not on my feet,
Catching at every stay, I've hurried out.
A grey-head woman, frighted from her wits,
Is nothing-yea, a very child again!

When I came near the fillet-crowned recess,
I saw a blood-stained suppliant sitting there,
Ay, at the very navel of the fane,
Abomination to the sacred place!

With gore his hands are dripping, and he holds
A sword drawn newly, and an olive branch
Chastely enwrapt with wool of whitest fleece.
So far can I speak plainly. But there sleeps,
On seats around him, a most wondrous troop
Of women-Gorgons, I should rather say,-
Nor yet to Gorgons will I liken them;
They more resemble those whom once I saw,-
Drawn in a painting to the very life,

In act of snatching off the meal of Phineus,
These have no wings, so far as I can see-
Black, grim, they snore with snortings audible,
And from their eyes distil a deadly dew-
No due libation; and unfit their garb
To bring before the images of gods,
Or under roofs of men. Such sisterhood
I never saw, nor any land can boast

It reared them, and not have to groan for it. But this concerns the master of the temple; He is a healing prophet and a seer, And for all else the cleanser of their homes. [Exit Priestess. The scene changes from the outer court to the interior of the Temple. ORESTES is seen on the Omphalus, the Chorus of ERINNYES sleeping around him, APOLLO standing by him, and HERMES in the back. ground.

Apollo. I never will betray thee-ever near, I will assist thee, and though far away,

Be never gentle to thine enemies.

Thou seest these frantic ones, o'erta'en with sleep,
And heavily they sleep, foul grey-head erones,

Hags, antique maids, with whom nor god, nor man,
Nor beast o' the field, has ever intercourse.
For very mischief were they born, so dwell
In darkness, subterrancan Tartarus,
Abhorred of men and of th' Olympian gods!
Fly, notwithstanding, nor be faint of heart,
For they will chase thee o'er much-trodden earth,
A weary continuity of land,

Beyond the sea, from sea-girt shore to shore.
Faint not, nor prematurely think of rest,
But seek the city of Pallas, and there sit,
And round her ancient image cast thine arms.
Appeasing words and judges for the nonce,
And means to save thee we will there provide,
For I persuaded thee to slay thy mother.

Ores. Thou knowest, king Apollo! not to do
Injustice, to which knowledge square thy deed-
Thy might is able to redeem its pledge.

Apol. Remember! let not fear subdue thy mind.
Hermes! my brother, Guider rightly named,

Be thou his guide, and through his course direct him,
E'en as a shepherd tends his fleecy charge;
For Zeus respects thy rightful privilege,
That bringeth good luck to the ways of men.

[Exit ORESTES, conducted by HERMES. CLYTEM-
NESTRA'S Ghost appears at some distance from
APOLLO,

Ghost. And will ye sleep? What need have I of sleepers?

By you neglected, 'mid the dead reproached

Because I slew him I roam to and fro;

And for my sake, for me who suffered so much,
E'en from my dearest, not a god is wroth
That I was slain by matricidal hands.

Ye see these bloody gashes on my breast

For your minds' eye looks clearly out from sleep

But mortals have no foresight in the day.
Ye many a time have tasted offerings

I made to soothe you, brewed with honey pure,
Wineless libations, night-feasts of the hearth,
Solemnized at your own peculiar hour,
When no god else receiveth sacrifice:
All this, I see, ye've trodden under foot;
For, like a fawn, he hath escaped away,
And lightly from the net hath bounded off,
With infinite derision mocking you.
Hear me, as ye would one that for his life,
His very soul is pleading, so I plead—
Hear, heed me, subterranean goddesses!
I, Clytemnestra, call you in a dream.

[They mutter in their sleep.

Ay, mutter! for your man is fled afar;
My foes have found kind patrons of their prayers.

Deep is your sleep-ye have no ruth for me,
And the detested mother-slayer flees.

Exclaim ye in your sleep? will ye not up?
What else but mischief have ye ever done?

[They mutter again.

[They cry out "Oh!”

[They cry out again.

Sleep and Fatigue, well-yoked conspirators,
Have spoiled these fell she-dragons of their strength.

[They scream out, still sleeping, as though in pursuit of their victim. Chor. Give heed! seize him! seize him! seize him!

Seize him! seize him! seize him! seize him!

Ghost. Your prey ye are pursuing in a dream,
And cry out like a hound that never quits
Thought of the chase and its anxiety.

What do ye? rise! nor let fatigue o'ercome you,
Nor sleep take from you knowledge of your loss,
But with my just reproaches fret your livers;
To the right-minded they are quickening goads.
Up and away! and with a second chase
Pursue him with the hot blast of your lungs
Breathe on him! with the bloody, fiery steam,
Hang on his trail, o'ertake, waste, wither him!

[The Ghost disappears-the Leader of the Chorus starts up. Awake, and awake thou her as I wake thee.

Dost sleep? arise! shake sleep off! let us look

If of this prelude any part is vain.

[The rest of the Chorus start up.

Chor. Ah! ah! ye gods! we have endured
Toil and trouble all in vain ;

A mischief hardly to be cured—
Hard, my sisters, to sustain.
Subdued by sleep we lost the prey—
He burst the net and fled away.
Ah, son of Zeus! thou art a thief:
Youngling, thou hast trampled on

Grey goddesses, and given relief
To a mother-slaying son.

A god has ta'en him from our sight,
And who will say that this is right?

A stern Reproach in dreams drew near,
And smote us, like a charioteer,
With a goad that made us shiver
Underneath the heart and liver.
We feel the chill the wretch deplores,
Whose back the public beadle scores.

Such things our young gods do, by might
Prevailing wrongly over right :
Plain the tripod is to see

Dripping with gore entirely;

And e'en earth's navel-stone retains
Murder's abominable stains.

Thyself, a prophet too! the guilt incurring,
Pollution to thy hearth hast brought;
Human respects to law of gods preferring,
Setting the ancient Fates at naught.

Apollo, stern to me, shall never save him,
Nor under earth shall he be free;
Another blood-avenger there shall have him,
And cling unto him after me.

Apol. Out of my temple! instantly begone;
Away! quit the prophetical recess,

Lest ye receive a serpent winged and white,
Whizzing in fury from my golden string,
And from the pain thereof disgorge the foam,
And clots of gore, which ye have sucked from men.
It is not fit ye should approach this fane,

But go where eyes are gouged, and heads chopt off,
Throats cut, and man's due propagation marred,
By blotting out his organs of increase,
Where wretches perish by dismemberment
And stoning, and are heard the piteous moans
Of men impaled. Such is your festival,
And therefore ye are hateful to the gods.
But all the fashion of your visage shows
Your nature. It beseemeth such as you
To make your habitation in the cave
Of the blood-lapping lion, not to haunt
This court of oracles, pollution foul

To all those near you. Hence, ye wandering goats,
That have no keeper: for of such a flock

No god can entertain a friendly thought.

Chor. Now hear us, King Apollo, in our turn:

Thou art not an accomplice in these deeds,

But art the head and front, sole cause of them.

Apol. How, pray? speak so far as to answer this.
Chor. It was thy oracle that bade him take

His mother's life.

Apol.

To take and send his sire

The retribution due to him; why not?

Chor. And pledged thee patron of the blood new shed. Apol. I charged him hither come for expiation.

Chor. And dost thou blame his escort?

Apol.

You should approach this temple.

Chor.

'Tis not fit

'Tis our charge.

Apol. What is your charge? declare your noble office!
Chor. We hunt the mother-slayer from his home.
Apol. Shall not the husband-slayer also be
Under the ban of shedding kindred blood?
The sanctions then of Hera, who presides
O'er marriage, and of Zeus, are derogate,
Henceforth of none account; your argument
Doth gentle Cytherea no less wrong,

From whom accrue to men their best delights.
The bond of natural law 'twixt man and wife,
The marriage-bed is greater than an oath,
When justice guards it. If on some of those,
Who slay their kin, ye never look in wrath,
Exacting not the pains and penalties,
I do deny ye hunt Orestes justly.
In his case I perceive you much incensed,
But in the other marvellously meek.
But Pallas shall take cognizance of this.
Chor. We will not quit the man.
Apol.

Add toil to toil.

Chor.

Pursue him then,

Disparage not our province.

Apol. I'd not accept it as a gift to keep it.

Chor. Forsooth thou art mighty, near the throne of Zeus:

But his own mother's blood incites us on,

And Justice cries out "aim!" to our pursuit,
And we, like huntresses, will chase him down.
Apol. And I will aid him, and deliver him.
The wrath is dread, among both gods and men,
For a neglected suppliant's injury,

If I should willingly abandon him.

[The Scene is changed to the Temple of the "Lady Athena" at Athens. A considerable interval of time must be supposed to elapse between the flight of ORESTES from Delphi, and his arrival at Athens, his appointed" city of refuge."

Ores. Here by Apollo's order am I come :
Lady Athena! piteously receive

One hunted by th' Avengers, it is true,
But no petitioner, with unclean hands,
For cleansing rites: for th' edge is taken off
Of my pollution, and its trace worn out
By travels among men, and at their homes.
Obedient to the voice of oracles,

Apollo's, I have passed o'er land and sea,
And to thy house and image, goddess! come,

And for a final sentence here attend.

Enter the ERINNYES.

Leader of the Chorus. Here is the trail plain of our fugitive; Follow the dumb Informer, a sure guide.

For as the quick hound tracks the wounded fawn,

We trace him by the blood and drops of gore.

But my flank pants with very weariness;

For I have ranged o'er every spot of earth,

And without wings have flown across the sea;

No slower than a ship, pursuing him ;

And now the wretch is cowering hereabout.

Chor. The smell of human blood doth cheer me, Assurance that my game is near me.

Look ye here, and look ye there,

Here and there and everywhere,