Trojan women who are attending her: “_Ministrant women, orderers of the house, Since ye move with me to this suppliant rite, Be ye my counsellors, how I must perform it. When I pour this tribute at the grave, What words will be in tune? What prayer will please? Shall I say, Father, from a loving wife This comes to thy dear soul: yea, from my mother?’ That dare I not.—I know not how to speak, Shedding this draught upon my father’s tomb. Or shall I say, as mortals use, ‘Give back The giver meet return?—to wit, some evil’? ... Be kind, and speak._“[16] Grief and anger make her speech broken and barely coherent, as her thoughts are. But below the emotion, and almost unconsciously, there is a hint of some purpose forming. Once for all she puts aside her mother’s orders; but she is not clear what will take their place. The dawning thought has not taken shape yet; and the vague counsels of the women do not at first help her. But presently they speak the name of Orestes, and bid her look for help to him. She is startled at the name, and the gleam of hope it brings lights up the underlying thought. She realizes suddenly what it means. ELEC. _Well said and wisely! That most heartens me._ CHO. _Then think of those who shed this blood, and pray—_ ELEC. _How? Teach me; I am ignorant. Speak on._ CHO. _Some power, divine or human, may descend——_ ELEC. _To judge or execute? What wilt thou say?_ CHO. _Few words, but clear. To kill the murderer._[16] Here then is the thought of her own brain, clothed in words and echoed back to her from the women whom she has implored to advise. But put thus into cold language, they have a dreadful sound from which she recoils in horror. ELEC. _But will the gods not frown upon such prayer?_ CHO. _Do they not favour vengeance on a foe?_[16]