CHORUS. Then She from her sleep up started, and cried out, And many lamps, whose splendour night had blinded, Rushed forth, to wait upon their mistress' word. Straightway she sends us with funereal gifts, A medicinal charm, if medicine be For griefs like hers! ORESTES. Now hear me, Earth profound, And my dear father's tomb, that so this dream May find in me completion! Thus I read it-- As left the snake the womb that once hid me, {116} And in the clothes was swathed that once swathed me, And as it sucked the breast that suckled me, And mingled blood with milk once sucked by me, And as she groaned with horror at the sight, Thus it beseems who bore a monstrous birth No common death to die. I am the serpent Shall bite her breast. It is a truthful dream. My seer be thou. Say have I read it well? CHORUS. Bravely. Now, for the rest, thy friends instruct What things to do, and what things to refrain. ORESTES. 'Tis said in few. Electra, go within, And keep my counsels in wise secrecy; For, as they killed an honourable man Deceitfully, by cunning and deceit Themselves shall find the halter. Thus Apollo, A prophet never known to lie, foretold. Myself will come, like a wayfaring man Accoutred, guest and spear-guest of this house,[f7] With Pylades, my friend, to the court gates. We both will speak with a Parnassian voice, Aping the Phocian tongue. If then it chance (As seems most like, for this whole house with ills Is sheer possessed)[n41] that with a welcome greeting No servant shall receive us, we will wait Till some one pass, and for their churlish ways Rate them thus sharply. "Sirs, why dare ye shut Inhospitable doors against the stranger,[n42] Making Ægisthus sin against the gods?" When thus I pass the threshold of his courts, And see him sitting on my father's throne, When he shall scan me face to face, and seek To hear my tale; ere he may say the word, _Whence is the stranger?_ I will lay him dead, Dressing him trimly o'er with points of steel. The Fury thus, not scanted of her banquet, Shall drink unmingled blood from Pelops' veins, The third and crowning cup.[n43] Now, sister, see to 't That all within be ordered, as shall serve My end most fitly. Ye, when ye shall speak, Speak words of happy omen; teach your tongue Both to be silent, and to speak in season. For what remains, his present aid I ask, Who laid on my poor wits this bloody task.[n44] [_Exeunt._ {117} CHORAL HYMN. STROPHE I. Earth breeds a fearful progeny,[n45] To man a hostile band. With finny monsters teems the sea, With creeping plagues the land; And winged portents scour mid-air, And flaring lightnings fly, And storms, sublimely coursing, scare The fields of the silent sky.