Calamities and yours; for to the noble

  A life of shameful suffering is disgraceful.

  CHORUS. In such a case, in speech or in reply,

  990

  Forethought and prudence are the best of helpers.

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. Before she spoke at all, my friends, if she

  Had any prudence she might have preserved

  Some caution, not have thrown it to the winds.

  For what can you be thinking of, to arm

  Yourself with utter recklessness, and call

  On me to help you? Do you not reflect

  You are a woman, not a man? how weak

  You are, how strong your foes? that day by day

  Their cause grows stronger, ours diminishes

  And dwindles into nothing? Who can hope,

  1000

  Plotting to overthrow so powerful

  A man, not to be overwhelmed himself

  In utter ruin? Our plight is desperate

  Already; you will make it worse, far worse,

  If you are heard saying such things as this.

  It brings us nothing, if when we have won

  That glorious repute, we die ignobly.

  Mere death is not the worst; this is the worst,

  To long for death and be compelled to live.

  No, I implore you, keep your rage in check

  Before you bring destruction on us both

  1010

  And devastation to our father’s house.

  What you have said shall be as if unsaid,

  Of no effect; and you, before it is

  Too late, must learn that since you have no strength

  You have to yield to those that are in power.

  CHORUS. You must indeed. There is no better thing

  For anyone than forethought and good sense.

  ELECTRA. I had expected this; I thought that you

  Would spurn the offer that I made. And so

  My hand alone must do it—for be sure,

  It is a task that cannot be neglected.

  1020

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. A pity you were not as bold as this

  Before! You might have thwarted the assassins!

  ELECTRA. I was too young to act. I had the will!

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. Then try once more to be too young to act.

  ELECTRA. It seems you are determined not to help me.

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. Not in a venture that would be our ruin.

  ELECTRA. How wise you are! And what a coward too.

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. Some day you’ll praise my wisdom. I will bear it!

  ELECTRA. I’ll never trouble you so far as that!

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. Who’s wise, and who is foolish, time will show.

  1030

  ELECTRA. Out of my sight! You are no use to me.

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. I am, if you were wise enough to

  listen.

  ELECTRA. Go to your mother; tell her everything!

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. No; I refuse my help, but not from hatred.

  ELECTRA. But in contempt! You make that very plain.

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. Trying to save your life! Is that contempt?

  ELECTRA. Am I to do what you imagine right?

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. Yes; and when you are right, I’ll follow you.

  ELECTRA. To be so plausible—and be so wrong!

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. These are the very words I’d use of you.

  1040

  ELECTRA. The right is on my side. Do you deny it?

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. The right may lead a man to his destruction.

  ELECTRA. That is no principle for me to follow.

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. You’ll think the same as I—when you have done it.

  ELECTRA. Do it I will. You shall not frighten me.

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. Give up this folly! Be advised by me!

  ELECTRA. No! There is nothing worse than bad advice.

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. Can I say nothing that you will accept?

  ELECTRA. I have considered, and I have determined.

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. Then I will go, since you do not approve

  1050

  Of what I say, nor I of what you do.

  ELECTRA. Go then, for your ways never can be mine

  However much you wish. It is mere folly

  To go in quest of the impossible.

  CHRYSOTHEMIS. If this, to you, is wisdom, follow it;

  But when it leads you to disaster, then

  At last you’ll learn mine was the better wisdom.

  [Exit CHRYSOTHEMIS

  Strophe 1

  CHORUS [sings]. We see the birds of the air, with what

  Sure instinct they protect and nourish

  Those who brought them to life and tended them.

  1060

  How can man disobey the laws of Nature?

  The anger of the gods, the law established,

  Enthroned in Heaven,* will bring them retribution.

  There is a Voice the dead can hear:

  Speak, O Voice, to the King, to Agamemnon,

  A message of shame and sorrow and deep dishonour.

  Antistrophe 1

  His house already was near to falling;

  1070

  Now a new cause of ruin threatens:

  Discord comes to divide his champions.

  Now no longer is daughter joined with daughter

  In loyalty and love, but strife divides them.

  Electra stands alone to face the tempest.

  Never has she ceased to mourn,*

  Faithful, careless of life, if she may purge this

  1080

  Palace of those two Furies,* a foul pollution.*

  Strophe 2

  He that is noble in spirit scorns

  A life ignoble, darkened by shame,

  And chooses honour, my daughter,

  As you chose to cleave to your father,

  Accepting a life of sorrow.

  Spurning dishonour, you have won a double fame:

  Courage is yours, and wisdom.

  Antistrophe 2

  Still may I see you triumph, raised

  1090

  Above your foes, restored to the power

  And wealth of which they have robbed you.

  You have known nothing but sorrow;

  And yet by observing those great

  Laws of the gods,* in piety* and reverence,

  You crown your sorrow with glory.

  Enter ORESTES, PYLADES, and attendants

  ORESTES. Ladies, we wish to know if we have been

  Rightly directed to the place we look for.

  CHORUS. What is that you wish to find?

  1100

  ORESTES.

  Aegisthus,

  If you could tell us where to find his palace?

  CHORUS. But it is here. You have been guided well.

  ORESTES. Could one of you perhaps tell those within

  That we have come, whom they have long awaited?

  CHORUS [indicating ELECTRA]. She best might do it;

  she is nearest to them.*

  ORESTES. Madam, we are from Phokis; tell them, pray,

  That we have certain business with Aegisthus.

  ELECTRA. Alas, alas! You have not come with something

  To prove it true—the rumour that we heard?

  ORESTES. Of ‘rumours’ I know nothing. I am sent

  1110

  By Strophius,* Orestes’ friend, with news.

  ELECTRA. O, tell me what it is! You frighten me.

  ORESTES. We bring him home; this little urn contains

  What now is left of him; for he is dead.

  ELECTRA. Ah, this is what I feared! I see your burden;

  Small weight for you, but heavy grief to me.

  ORESTES. It is—if that which moves your sorrow is

  Orestes’ death: in that we bring his ashes.

  ELECTRA. Then give it me, I beg you! If this vessel

  Now holds him, let me take it in my arms.*

  1120

  ORESTES. Men, give it her, whoever she may be:

  A friend; perhaps, one of his family.

  This is no prayer of one who wished him evil.

  [ELECTRA advances to the front of the stage.

  ORESTES and PYLADES retire near the palace gate

  ELECTRA. Orestes! my Orestes! you have come

  To this! The hopes with which I sent you forth

  Are come to this! How radiant you were!

  And now I hold you—so: a little dust!

  1130

  O, would to God that I had died myself,

  And had not snatched you from the edge of death

  To have you sent into a foreign land!

  They would have killed you—but you would have shared

  Your father’s death and burial; not been killed

  Far from your home, an exile, pitiably,

  Alone, without your sister. Not for you,

  The last sad tribute of a sister’s hand!

  Some stranger washed your wounds, and laid your body

  On the devouring fire; the charity

  1140

  Of strangers brings you home—so light a burden,

  And in so small a vessel!

  O, my brother,

  What love and tenderness I spent on you!

  For you were my child rather than your mother’s;

  I was your nurse—or you would not have had

  A nurse; I was the one you always called

  Your sister—and it has come to nothing.

  One single day has made it all in vain,

  And, like a blast of wind, has swept it all

  1150

  To ruin. You are dead; my father too

  Lies in his grave; your death is death to me,

  Joy to our enemies: our mother—if

  She is a mother!—dances in delight,

  When you had sent me many a secret promise

  That you would come and be revenged on her.

  But no! A cruel fate has ruined you,

  And ruined me, and brought it all to nothing:

  The brother that I loved is gone, and in

  His place are ashes, and an empty shadow.

  O pity! pity, grief and sorrow!*

  1160

  How cruel, cruel, is your home-coming,

  My dearest brother! I can live no longer.

  O take me with you! You are nothing; I

  Am nothing, now. Let me henceforward be

  A shade among the shades, with you. We lived

  As one; so now in death, let us be one,

  And share a common grave, as while you lived

  We shared a common life. O, let me die;

  For death alone can put an end to grief.

  1170

  CHORUS. Your father died, Electra; he was mortal:

  So has Orestes died; so shall we all.

  Remember this, and do not grieve too much.

  ORESTES. What answer can I make to this? What can

  I say? I must, and yet I cannot, speak.

  ELECTRA. Sir, what has troubled you? Why speak like this?

  ORESTES. Are you the Princess? Can you be Electra?

  ELECTRA. I am Electra, though I look so mean.

  ORESTES. To think that it has gone so far as this!

  ELECTRA. But why such words of pity over me?

  1180

  ORESTES.—Treated so harshly and with such dishonour!

  ELECTRA. Ill words well spoken, stranger—of Electra.

  ORESTES.—How cruel! Kept unmarried, and ill-used!

  ELECTRA. Sir, why do you look at me so fixedly,

  And in such pity?

  ORESTES. Little did I know

  My own unhappiness, how great it was.

  ELECTRA. What words of mine have made you think of that?

  ORESTES. No words; it is the sight of all you suffer.

  ELECTRA. The sight of it? What you can see is nothing!

  ORESTES. How? What can be more terrible than this?

  ELECTRA. To live, as I do, with the murderers.

  1190

  ORESTES. What murderers? Who are these guilty men?

  ELECTRA. My father’s.—And they treat me as their slave!

  ORESTES. But who has forced you to this servitude?

  ELECTRA. She who has the name of mother—nothing else!

  ORESTES. What does she do? Oppression? Violence?

  ELECTRA. Violence, oppression, everything that’s evil!

  ORESTES. You have no champion? no one to oppose them?

  ELECTRA. The one I had is dead: here are his ashes.