_Enter from the fields the Aged Tutor, tottering under the weight of a
kid and other viands, clad in rags, and in tears_. _Electra_ wonders
why he weeps: to mourn for Agamemnon or Orestes is surely now to mourn
in vain.
_Tut._ In vain; but this my soul could not support; {553}
For to his tomb as on the way I came,
I turned aside, and falling on the ground,
Alone and unobserved, indulg'd my tears;
Then of the wine, brought for thy stranger guests,
Made a libation, and around the tomb
Plac'd myrtle branches; on the pyre I saw
A sable ewe, yet fresh the victim's blood,
And clust'ring auburn locks shorn from some head;
I marvell'd, O my child, what man had dar'd
Approach the tomb, for this no Argive dares.
Perchance with secret step thy brother came
And paid these honors to his father's tomb.
But view these locks, compare them with thine own,
Whether like thine their color; nature loves
In those who from one father draw their blood
In many points a likeness to preserve.
_Elec._ Unworthy of a wise man are thy words,
If thou canst think that to Mycenae's realms
My brother e'er with secret step will come,
Fearing Aegisthus. Then between our locks
What can th' agreement be? To manly toils
He in the rough Palaestra hath been train'd,
Mine by the comb are soften'd; so that hence
Nothing may be inferr'd. Besides, old man,
Tresses like-color'd often may'st thou find
Where not one drop of kindred blood is shar'd.
_Tut._ Trace but his footsteps, mark th' impression, see
If of the same dimensions with thy feet.
_Elec._ How can th' impression of his foot be left
On hard and rocky ground? But were it so,
Brother and sister never can have foot
Of like dimensions: larger is the man's.
_Tut._ But hath thy brother, should he come, no vest
Which thou wouldst know, the texture of thy hands,
In which when snatch'd from death he was array'd?
_Elec._ Know'st thou not, when my brother from this land
Was saved, I was but young? But were his vests
Wrought by my hands, then infant as he was,
How could he now in his maturer age
Be in the same array'd, unless his vests
Grew with his person's growth? No, at the tomb
Some stranger, touch'd with pity, sheared his locks,
Or native, by the tyrant's spies unmark'd.
_Tut._ Where are these strangers? I would see them: much
Touching thy brother wish I to inquire.
_Elec._ See, from the house with hast'ning step they come. {599}
_Re-enter Orestes and Pylades_: Conversation in which the aged Tutor
eyes him curiously all over, and declares he is Orestes--general
recognition and burst of joy.--Then they turn to vengeance, and in
stichomuthic dialogue lay their plans. Aegisthus, the Tutor says, is
to come to a neighboring field to celebrate a sacrifice; they lay a
plan for Orestes and Pylades to gain admission as travellers and kill
him in the moment of sacrifice. As to Clytaemnestra: a report is
prevalent in the palace that Electra has given birth to a child; they
conspire to give currency to the report and invite Clytaemnestra to
perform the ten days' rite: once in the house, Orestes will do the
dreadful deed; they tremble at their horrid tasks, but their father
must be avenged.--_Exeunt Orestes and, his Attendants to the fields;
and Electra to the Cottage_ begging the Chorus, who are privy to all
this as confidential friends, to keep watch and summon her if news
comes. {763}