ORESTES Zeus, thou alone to us art parent now. Smite with a rending blow Upon their heads, and bid the land be well: Set right where wrong hath stood; and thou give ear, O Earth, unto my prayer— Yea, hear O mother Earth, and monarchy of hell! CHORUS Nay, the law is sternly set— Blood-drops shed upon the ground Plead for other bloodshed yet; Loud the call of death doth sound, Calling guilt of olden time, A Fury, crowning crime with crime. ELECTRA Where, where are ye, avenging powers, Puissant Furies of the slain? Behold the relics of the race Of Atreus, thrust from pride of place! O Zeus, what home henceforth is ours, What refuge to attain? CHORUS Lo, at your wail my heart throbs, wildly stirred; Now am I lorn with sadness, Darkened in all my soul, to hear your sorrow’s word. Anon to hope, the seat of strength, I rise,— She, thrusting grief away, lifts up mine eyes To the new dawn of gladness. ORESTES Skills it to tell of aught save wrong on wrong, Wrought by our mother’s deed? Though now she fawn for pardon, sternly strong Standeth our wrath, and will nor hear nor heed; Her children’s soul is wolfish, born from hers, And softens not by prayers. CHORUS I dealt upon my breast the blow That Asian mourning women know; Wails from my breast the fun’ral cry, The Cissian weeping melody; Stretched rendingly forth, to tatter and tear, My clenched hands wander, here and there, From head to breast; distraught with blows Throb dizzily my brows. ELECTRA Aweless in hate, O mother, sternly brave! As in a foeman’s grave Thou laid’st in earth a king, but to the bier No citizen drew near,— Thy husband, thine, yet for his obsequies, Thou bad’st no wail arise! ORESTES Alas the shameful burial thou dost speak! Yet I the vengeance of his shame will wreak— That do the gods command! That shall achieve mine hand! Grant me to thrust her life away, and I Will dare to die! CHORUS List thou the deed! Hewn down and foully torn, He to the tomb was borne; Yea, by her hand, the deed who wrought, With like dishonour to the grave was brought, And by her hand she strove, with strong desire, Thy life to crush, O child, by murder of thy sire: Bethink thee, hearing, of the shame, the pain Wherewith that sire was slain! ELECTRA Yea, such was the doom of my sire; well-a-day, I was thrust from his side,— As a dog from the chamber they thrust me away, And in place of my laughter rose sobbing and tears, As in darkness I lay. O father, if this word can pass to thine ears, To thy soul let it reach and abide! CHORUS Let it pass, let it pierce, through the sense of thine ear, To thy soul, where in silence it waiteth the hour! The past is accomplished; but rouse thee to hear What the future prepareth; awake and appear, Our champion, in wrath and in power!