[_During the choral ode_ ELECTRA, _after going to the mound, and pouring the libations on it, returns holding in her hands the lock of hair which_ ORESTES _had left there_ _Elect._ The gifts the earth hath drunk, my father hath them: Now this new wonder come and share with me. _Chor._ Speak on, my heart goes pit-a-pat with fear. _Elect._ There on the tomb I see this lock cut off. 160 _Chor._ What man or maid low-girdled can it claim? _Elect._ Full easy this for any one to guess. _Chor._ Old as I am, may I from younger learn? _Elect._ None but myself could cut off lock like this. _Chor._ Yea, foes are they that should with grief-locks mourn. _Elect._ Yes, surely, 'tis indeed the self-same hair.... _Chor._ But as what tresses? This I seek to know. _Elect._ And of a truth 'tis very like to ours.... _Chor._ Did then Orestes send this secret gift?[412] _Elect._ It is most like those flowing locks of his. 170 _Chor._ Yet how had he adventured to come hither? _Elect._ He to his father sent the lock as gift. _Chor._ Not less regretful than before, thy words, If on this soil his foot shall never tread. _Elect._ Yea, on me too there rushed heart-surge of gall And I was smitten as with dart that pierced; And from mine eyes there fell the thirsty drops That pour unchecked, of this full bitter flood, As I this lock beheld. How can I think That any other townsman owns this hair? 180 Nay, she who slew ... she did not cut it off, My mother ... who towards her children shows A godless mood that little suits the name; And yet that I should this assert outright, The precious gift is his whom most of men I love, Orestes.... Nay, hope flatters me. Alas! alas! Would, herald-like, it had a kindly voice! So should I not turn to and fro in doubt; But either it had told me with all clearness To loathe this tress, if cut from hated head; 190 Or, being of kin, had sought to share my grief, To deck the tomb and do my father honour. _Chor._ Well, on the Gods we call, on those who know In what storms we, like sailors, now are tossed: But if deliverance may indeed be ours, From a small seed a mighty trunk may grow.[413] _Elect._ Here too are foot-prints as a second proof, Just like ... yea, close resembling those of mine. For here are outlines of two separate feet, His own and those of fellow-traveller, 200 And all the heels and impress of the feet, When measured, fit well with my footsteps here.... Pangs come on me, and sore bewilderment. [_As she ceases speaking_ ORESTES _comes forward from his concealment_ _Orest._ Pray, uttering to the Gods no fruitless prayer, For good success in what is yet to come. _Elect._ What profits now to me the Gods' good will?