Agamemnon enters, and behind him the veiled and silent figure of a
woman. After greeting the gods of his House, the King, in brief and
stilted phrase, acknowledges the loyalty of the chorus, but hints at
much that is amiss which it must be his first charge to set right.
Hereupon enters Clytemnestra, and in a speech of rhetorical exaggeration
tells of her anxious waiting for her lord and her inexpressible joy at
his return. In conclusion she directs that purple cloth be spread upon
his path that he may enter the house as befits a conqueror. After a show
of resistance, Agamemnon yields the point, and the contrast at which
the dramatist aims is achieved. With the pomp of an eastern monarch,
always repellent to the Greek mind, the King steps across the threshold,
steps, as the audience knows, to his death. The higher the reach of his
power and pride the more terrible and swift is the nemesis; and
Clytemnestra follows in triumph with the enigmatic cry upon her lips:
"Zeus who art god of fulfilment, fulfil my prayers." As she withdraws
the chorus begin a song of boding fear, the more terrible that it is
still indefinite.
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