_Enter from Distance-door Orestes, Pylades and Attendants._
Orestes informs the Chorus, and Electra as one of the household, that
they bear the urn containing the ashes of Orestes, whose death they had
sent forward a messenger to announce. Electra begs to clasp the urn
and pours over it a flood of grief; here is nothingness to represent
the dear boy she sent out in bloom of youth; and all her forethought
has perished! And he died amid strangers without her to take part in
the funeral rites! All her sweet toil in nursing him with more than
mother's love is gone! All is gone--father, mother, brother! She
would go too; they ever shared an equal lot; now let her go to him,
ashes to ashes! {1170}
_Chor._ Thou, O Electra, take good heed, wast born
Of mortal father; mortal, too, Orestes,
Yield not too much to sorrow.
_Ores._ [Trembling.] Woe is me.
What shall I say? Ah, whither find my way,
In words that have no issue? for I fail
In strength to curb my speech.
_Elec._ What sorrow now
Disturbs thee? Wherefore art thou speaking thus?
_Ores._ Is this Electra's noble form I see?
_Elec._ That self-same form indeed, in piteous case.
_Ores._ Alas, alas, for this sad lot of thine.
_Elec._ Surely thou dost not wail, O friend, for me!
_Ores._ O form most basely, godlessly misused.
_Elec._ Thy words, ill-omened, fall, O friend, on none
But me alone.
_Ores._ Alas, for this thy state,
Unwedded, hopeless.
_Elec._ Why, O friend, on me
With such fixed glance still gazing dost thou groan?
_Ores._ How little knew I of my fortune's ills!
_Elec._ What have I said to throw such light on them?
_Ores._ Now that I see thee thus, with many woes
Clothed as a garment.
_Elec._ Yet thou dost but see
A few of all my evils.
_Ores._ What could be
More sad than these to look on?
_Elec._ This, to live
And sit at meat with murderers.
_Ores._ With whose?
What evil dost thou indicate by this?
_Elec._ My father's; 'tis to them, against my will
I live in bondage.
_Ores._ Who constrains thee, then?
_Elec._ My mother she is called; and yet in nought
Is she what mother should be.
_Ores._ In what acts?
By blows and stripes, or this unseemly life?
_Elec._ Both blows, unseemly life, and all vile deeds.
_Ores._ And is there none to help? Not one to check?
_Elec._ No, none. Who was . . . thou buryest him as dust.
_Ores._ O sad one! How I pitied thee long since.
_Elec._ Know, then, thou art the only pitying one. {1200}
_Ores._ For I alone am hurt by these thy woes.
_Elec._ Surely thou dost not come by line of blood
Connected with us.
_Ores._ I could tell thee all,
Were these thy friends.
_Elec._ Most friendly are they; speak
As unto faithful hearers.
_Ores._ Put away
That urn awhile that thou may'st hear the whole.
_Elec._ Ah! By the Gods, O stranger, ask not that.
_Ores._ Do what I bid thee, and thou shalt not err.
_Elec._ Now, by thy beard, deprive me not of that
I hold most dear.
_Ores._ I say it cannot be.
_Elec._ Ah me, Orestes, wretched shall I be,
Bereaved of this thy tomb.
_Ores._ Hush, hush such words;
Thou has no cause for wailing.
_Elec._ Have no cause!
Do I not wail my brother, who is dead?
_Ores._ Thou hast no call to utter speech like this.
_Elec._ And am I so dishonoured by the dead?
_Ores._ By none art thou dishonoured. But this thing
Is nought to thee.
_Elec._ And yet it needs must be,
If 'tis Orestes' body that I bear.
_Ores._ Except in show of speech it is not his.
_Elec._ Where, then, is that poor exile's sepulchre?
_Ores._ Of those that live there is no sepulchre. {1219}
_Elec._ What say'st thou, boy?
_Ores._ No falsehood what I say.
_Elec._ And does he live?
_Ores._ He lives, if I have life.
_Elec._ What, art thou he?
_Ores._ Look thou upon this seal,
My father's once, and learn if I speak truth.
_Elec._ O blessed day!
_Ores._ Most blessed, I too own.
_Elec._ O voice! And art thou come?
_Ores._ No longer learn
That news from others.
_Elec._ And I have thee here,
Here in my grasp!
_Ores._ So may'st thou always have me.
_Elec._ O dearest friends, my fellow-citizens,
Look here on this Orestes, dead indeed
In feigned craft, and by that feigning saved.
_Chor._ We see it, daughter; and at what has chanced
A tear of gladness trickles from our eyes. {1231}
A passionate dialogue (_in mixed verse: Electra, speaking lyrics,
Orestes Blank Verse_) of exultation and weeping succeeds: until finally
Orestes is calling back their thoughts to the plans of vengeance when
_enter from Palace Attendant of Orestes_, who chides them for their
loud joy, which he has barely been able to prevent from reaching the
ears of Clytaemnestra. Electra is informed who this attendant is, and
joyfully recognizes him and calls him father for his faithfulness. He
cuts conversation short and hurries Orestes and Pylades within.
_Electra_ with a prayer retires. {1383}