a work lies before him vastly more horrible,
a little more treacherous, and with no element of daring to redeem it.
Electra, on the other hand, has done nothing yet; she has merely tried,
not very successfully, to revile the dead body, and her hate is
unsatisfied. Besides, one sees all through the play that Aegisthus was a
kind of odious stranger to her; it was the woman, her mother, who came
close to her and whom she really hated.

P. 63, l. 979, Was it some fiend of Hell?]--The likeness to _Hamlet_ is
obvious. ("The spirit that I have seen May be the Devil." End of Act II.)

P. 63, l. 983, How shall it be then, the same stealthy blow?...]--He
means, I think, "the same as that with which I have already murdered an
unsuspecting man to-day," but Electra for her own purposes misinterprets
him.

P. 64, l. 990, God's horsemen, stars without a stain.]--Cf. above, ll.
312, 746. Castor and Polydeuces were sons of Zeus and Leda, brothers of
Helen, and half-brothers of Clytemnestra, whose father was the mortal
Tyndareus. They lived as knights without reproach, and afterwards became
stars and demigods. The story is told that originally Castor was mortal
and Polydeuces immortal; but when Castor was fatally wounded Polydeuces
prayed that he might be allowed to give him half his immortality. The
prayer was granted; and the two live as immortals, yet, in some mysterious
way, knowing the taste of death. Unlike the common sinners and punishers
of the rest of the play, these Heroes find their "glory" in saving men
from peril and suffering, especially at sea, where they appear as the
globes of light, called St. Elmo's fire, upon masts and yards.

Pp. 64-71, ll. 998 ff.]--Clytemnestra. "And what sort of woman is this
doomed and 'evil' Queen? We know the majestic murderess of Aeschylus, so
strong as to be actually beautiful, so fearless and unrepentant that one
almost feels her to be right. One can imagine also another figure that
would be theatrically effective--a 'sympathetic' sinner, beautiful and
penitent, eager to redeem her sin by self-sacrifice. But Euripides gives
us neither. Perhaps he believed in neither. It is a piteous and most real
character that we have here, in this sad middle-aged woman, whose first
words are an apology; controlling quickly her old fires, anxious to be as
little hated as possible. She would even atone, one feels, if there were
any safe way of atonement; but the consequences of her old actions are
holding