When you have brought to me the certain news

  That he is dead who drew his life from mine

  But then deserted me, who suckled him

  And reared him, and in exile has become

  A stranger to me? Since he left this country

  I have not seen him; but he charged me with

  His father’s murder, and he threatened me*

  Such that by day or night I could not sleep

  780

  Except in terror; each single hour that came

  Cast over me the shadow of my death.

  But now . . . ! This day removes my fear of him—

  And her! She was the worse affliction; she

  Lived with me, draining me of life. But now

  Her threats are harmless; I can live in peace.

  ELECTRA. O my Orestes! Here is double cause

  For grief: you dead, and your unnatural mother

  Exulting in your death! O, is it just?

  790

  CLYTEMNESTRA. You are not! He is—being as he is!

  ELECTRA. Nemesis!* Listen, and avenge Orestes.

  CLYTEMNESTRA. She has heard already, and has rightly judged.

  ELECTRA. Do outrage to me now: your hour has come.

  CLYTEMNESTRA. But you will silence me, you and Orestes!

  ELECTRA. Not now, alas! It is we that have been silenced.

  CLYTEMNESTRA. My man, if you have stopped her mouth, you do

  Indeed deserve a very rich reward.

  TUTOR. Then I may go back home, if all is well?

  CLYTEMNESTRA. Back home? By no means! That would not be worthy

  800

  Of me, or of the friend who sent you here.

  No, come inside, and leave this woman here

  To shout her sorrows—and her brother’s too!

  [Exeunt CLYTEMNESTRA, her servant and the

  TUTOR into the palace

  ELECTRA. What grief and pain she suffered! Did you see it?

  How bitterly she wept, how wildly mourned

  Her son’s destruction! Did you see it? No,

  She left us laughing. O my brother! O

  My dear Orestes! You are dead; your death

  Has killed me too, for it has torn from me

  The only hope I had, that you would come

  810

  At last in might, to be the avenger of

  Your father, and my champion. But now

  Where can I turn? For I am left alone,

  Robbed of my father, and of you. Henceforth

  I must go back again, for ever, into bondage

  To those whom most I hate, the murderers

  Who killed my father. O, can this be justice?

  Never again will I consent to go

  Under their roof; I’ll lie down here, and starve,

  Outside their doors; and if that vexes them,

  Let them come out and kill me. If they do,

  820

  I shall be glad; it will be misery

  To go on living; I would rather die.

  [From here until line 870 everything is sung.]

  Strophe 1

  CHORUS. Zeus, where are thy thunderbolts?

  Where is the bright eye of the Sun-

  God? if they look down upon this

  And see it not.

  ELECTRA.

  [An inarticulate cry of woe]

  CHORUS. My daughter, do not weep.

  ELECTRA.

  [Cry, as before]

  CHORUS. My child, say nothing impious.

  830

  ELECTRA. You break my heart.

  CHORUS.

  But how?

  ELECTRA. By holding out an empty hope.

  Who now can avenge him?

  His son Orestes is in his grave.

  There is no comfort. O, let me be!

  You do but make my grief the more.

  Antistrophe 1

  CHORUS. But yet, there was a king of old,

  Amphiareus:* his wicked wife

  Tempted by gold killed him, and yet

  Though he is dead . . .

  ELECTRA.

  [Cry, as before]

  840

  CHORUS. He lives and reigns below.

  ELECTRA.

  [Cry, as before]

  CHORUS. Alas indeed! The murderess . . .

  ELECTRA. But she was killed!

  CHORUS.

  She was.

  ELECTRA. I know! I know! Amphiareus

  Had a champion* to avenge him;

  But I have none now left to me.

  The one I had is in his grave.

  Strophe 2

  CHORUS. Your fate is hard and cruel.

  ELECTRA. How well I know it! Sorrow, pain,

  850

  Year upon year of bitter grief!

  CHORUS. Yes, we have seen it all.

  ELECTRA. O offer not, I beg you,*

  An empty consolation.

  No longer can I look for help

  From my noble and loyal brother.

  Antistrophe 2

  CHORUS. Yet death must come to all men.

  860

  ELECTRA. But not like this! Dragged along,

  Trampled on by horses’ hooves!

  CHORUS. No, do not think of it!

  ELECTRA. O what an end! In exile,*

  Without a loving sister

  To lay him in his grave, with none

  To pay tribute of tears and mourning.

  870

  Enter CHRYSOTHEMIS

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. Great happiness, dear sister, is the cause

  Of my unseemly haste; good news for you,

  And joy. Release has come at last from all

  The sufferings that you have so long endured.

  ELECTRA. And where can you find any help for my

  Afflictions? They have grown past remedy.

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. Orestes has come back to us! I know it

  As surely as I stand before you now.

  ELECTRA. What, are you mad, poor girl? Do you make fun

  Of your calamity, and mine as well?

  880

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. I am not mocking you! I swear it by

  Our father’s memory.* He is here, among us.

  ELECTRA. You foolish girl! You have been listening to

  Some idle rumour. Who has told it you?

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. No one has told me anything. I know

  From proof that I have seen with my own eyes.

  ELECTRA. What proof, unhappy girl? What have you seen

  To be inflamed with this disastrous hope?

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. Do listen, I implore you; then you’ll know

  If I am talking foolishly or not.

  890

  ELECTRA. Then tell me, if it gives you any pleasure.

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. I’ll tell you everything I saw. When I

  Came near the tomb, I saw that offerings

  Of milk had just been poured upon the mound,

  And it was wreathed with flowers. I looked, and wondered;

  I peered about, to see if anyone

  Was standing near; then, as I seemed alone,

  I crept a little nearer to the tomb,

  900

  And there, upon the edge, I saw a lock

  Of hair; it had been newly cut.

  Upon the moment, as I looked, there fell

  Across my mind a picture, one that I

  Have often dreamed of, and I knew that these

  Were offerings given by our beloved brother.

  I took them up with reverence; my eyes

  Were filled with tears of joy; for I was sure,

  As I am now, that none but he has laid

  This tribute on the grave. Who else should do it

  But he, or you, or I? It was not I,

  910

  That is quite certain. You have not been there;

  How could you? Even to worship at a shrine

  They do not let you leave the house, unpunished.

  As for our mother, she has little mind

  To make such offerings—and we should have known it.

  No, dear Electra, they are from Orestes.

  Therefore take courage! There is no such thing

  As joy unbroken, or unbroken sorrow.

  We have known sorrow—nothing else; perhaps

  Today great happiness begins for us.

  ELECTRA. O you unhappy girl! You little know!

  920

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. Unhappy? Is this not the best of news?

  ELECTRA. The truth is very different from your fancy.

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. This is the truth. Mayn’t I believe my eyes?

  ELECTRA. Poor girl! He’s dead! We cannot look to him

  For our deliverance; our hopes are gone.

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. Alas, alas!... Who told you this?

  ELECTRA. One who was there; a man who saw him killed.

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. Where is the man? This fills me with dismay!

  ELECTRA. At home; and, to our mother, very welcome.

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. Alas, alas! Who could it then have been

  Who put those many offerings on the tomb?

  930

  ELECTRA. It will be someone who has laid them there

  As a memorial of Orestes’ death.

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. O, this is ruin! I came hurrying back,

  So happy, with my news, not knowing this

  Calamity. But all the woes we had

  Before are with us still, and worse are added!

  ELECTRA. Yet even so, if you will work with me,

  We can throw off the weight that wears us down.

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. What, can I bring the dead to life again?

  940

  ELECTRA. That’s not my meaning; I am not a fool.

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. Then what assistance can I give to you?

  ELECTRA. I need your courage in a certain venture.

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. If it will help us, I will not refuse.

  ELECTRA. Remember: nothing prospers without effort.

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. You may command whatever strength I have.

  ELECTRA. This then is what I have resolved to do.

  You know, as I do, we have no support

  Of friends; of what we had we have been stripped

  By death. We two are left; we are alone.

  950

  For me, while I had news about our brother,

  That he was well and strong, I lived in hope

  That he would some time come and punish those

  Who killed our father. Now that he is dead,

  I turn to you, that you will join your hand

  With mine, your sister’s; help me, do not flinch:

  Aegisthus, who has murdered our dear father—

  We’ll kill him! There’s no reason now to keep

  It back from you. You cannot wait, inactive,

  Hoping for—nothing. What hope was left to you

  That is not shattered? This is what you have:

  Lasting resentment that you have been robbed

  Of all the wealth that rightly should be yours;

  960

  Anger that they have let you live so long

  Unmarried—and do not think that this will change:

  Aegisthus is no fool; he can foresee,

  If you or I had children, they would take

  Revenge on him. Marriage is not for us.

  Therefore be with me in my resolution.

  This you will win: the praise of our dead father,

  And of our brother, for your loyalty;

  The freedom that is yours by right of birth;

  970

  A marriage worthy of your station, since

  All look admiringly upon the brave.

  Do you not see what glory you will win

  Both for yourself and me by doing this?

  For all will cry, Argive or foreigner,

  When they behold us: ‘See! there are the sisters

  Who saved their father’s house from desolation;

  Who, when their enemies were firmly set

  In power, avenged a murder, risking all.

  980

  Love and respect and honour are their due;

  At festivals and public gatherings

  Give them pre-eminence, for their bravery.’

  So we shall be acclaimed by everyone;

  As long as we shall live our glory will

  Endure, and will not fade when we are dead.

  My sister, give consent! Stand by your father,

  Work with your brother, put an end to my