_Orest._ Thou see'st those here whom most thou did'st desire. _Elect._ Whom called I on, that thou hast knowledge of? _Orest._ Right well I know how thou dost prize Orestes. _Elect._ In what then find I now my prayers fulfilled? 210 _Orest._ Behold me! Seek no dearer friend than I! _Elect._ Nay, stranger, dost thou weave a snare for me? _Orest._ Then do I plot my schemes against myself. _Elect._ Thou seekest to make merry with my grief. _Orest._ With mine then also, if at all with thine. _Elect._ Art thou indeed Orestes that I speak to? _Orest._ Though thou see'st him, thou'rt slow to learn 'tis I; Yet when thou saw'st this lock of mourner's hair, And did'st the foot-prints track my feet had made, Agreeing with thine own, as brother's true, Then did'st thou deem in hope thou looked'st on me. 220 Fit then this lock where it was cut, and see; See too this woven robe, thine own hands' work, The shuttle's stroke, and forms of beasts[414] of chase. [ELECTRA _starts, as if about to cry aloud for joy_ Restrain thyself, nor lose thy head for joy: Our nearest kin, I know, are foes to us. _Elect._ [_embracing_ ORESTES] Thou whom thy father's house most loves, most prays for, Our one sole hope, bewept with many a tear, Of issue that shall work deliverance! Thine own might trusting, thou thy father's house Shall soon win back. O pleasant fourfold name! 230 I needs must speak to thee as father dear;[415] The love I owe my mother turns to thee, (She with full right to me is hateful now,) My sister's too, who ruthlessly was slain; And thou wast ever faithful brother found, And one whom I revered. May Might and Right, And sovran Zeus as third, my helpers be! _Orest._ Zeus! Zeus! be Thou a witness of our troubles, See the lorn brood that calls an eagle sire, Eagle that perished in the coils and folds 240 Of a fell viper. Now on them bereaved Presses gaunt famine. Not as yet full-grown Are they to bring their father's booty home. Thus it is thine to see in me and her, (I mean Electra) children fatherless, Both suffering the same exile from our home. _Elect._ And should'st Thou havoc make of brood of sire Who at thine altar greatly honoured Thee, Whence wilt Thou get a festive offering From hand as free? Nor, should'st Thou bring to nought The eagle's nestlings, would'st thou have at hand 250 A messenger to bear thy will to man In signs persuasive; nor when withered up This royal stock shall be, will it again Wait on thine altars at high festivals: Oh, bring it back, and then Thou too wilt raise From low estate a lofty house, which now Seems to have fallen, fallen utterly.