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The Chorus of Argive Maidens enters quietly. The following lines between Electra and the Chorus are chanted responsively.
153
Chorus
Hush, hush! let your footsteps fall lightly! not a sound!
140
Hush, hush! let your footsteps fall lightly! not a sound!
140
Electra
Go further from his couch, further, I beseech you!
Go further from his couch, further, I beseech you!
Chorus
There, I obey.
There, I obey.
Electra
Ah, ah! Speak like the breath of a slender reed-pipe, my dear, I pray.
145
Ah, ah! Speak like the breath of a slender reed-pipe, my dear, I pray.
145
Chorus
See, how soft and low I drop my voice.
See, how soft and low I drop my voice.
Electra
Yes, do so; approach now, softly, softly!
Give me an account of why you have come here. For at last he has lain down, and sleeps.
150
Yes, do so; approach now, softly, softly!
Give me an account of why you have come here. For at last he has lain down, and sleeps.
150
Chorus
How is he? You give us an account, my dear; what has happened, what misfortune?
How is he? You give us an account, my dear; what has happened, what misfortune?
Electra
He is still breathing, but his moans grow feeble.
155
He is still breathing, but his moans grow feeble.
155
Chorus
What are you saying?
turning to Orestes. Unhappy Orestes!
What are you saying?
turning to Orestes. Unhappy Orestes!
Electra
You will kill him, if you disturb him from the sweet sleep he now enjoys.
You will kill him, if you disturb him from the sweet sleep he now enjoys.
Chorus
Poor sufferer, for his hateful deeds, inspired by a god!
160
Poor sufferer, for his hateful deeds, inspired by a god!
160
Electra
Ah, misery! Injustice it was, after all, from an unjust mouth, when Loxias on the tripod of Themis
decreed my mother’s most unnatural murder.
165
Ah, misery! Injustice it was, after all, from an unjust mouth, when Loxias on the tripod of Themis
decreed my mother’s most unnatural murder.
165
Chorus
Do you see? He stirs beneath his robe!
Do you see? He stirs beneath his robe!
Electra
Alas! Your noisy chatter has roused him from his sleep.
Alas! Your noisy chatter has roused him from his sleep.
Chorus
No, I think he is asleep.
No, I think he is asleep.
Electra
Leave us, go away from the house! circle back again! cease this noise!
170
Leave us, go away from the house! circle back again! cease this noise!
170
Chorus
He is asleep.
He is asleep.
Electra
You are right.
1
O Lady Night,
giver of sleep to hard-working mortals, come from Erebus, come, wing your way to the palace of Agamemnon.
175
For with misery and woe we are lost, we are gone.
180
There!
To the Chorus. that noise again! Do be still and keep the sound of your voice
away from his couch; let him enjoy his sleep in peace, my dear!
185
You are right.
1
O Lady Night,
giver of sleep to hard-working mortals, come from Erebus, come, wing your way to the palace of Agamemnon.
175
For with misery and woe we are lost, we are gone.
180
There!
To the Chorus. that noise again! Do be still and keep the sound of your voice
away from his couch; let him enjoy his sleep in peace, my dear!
185
Chorus
Tell me, what end of troubles awaits him.
Tell me, what end of troubles awaits him.
Electra
Death, death; what else? For he has no desire for food.
Death, death; what else? For he has no desire for food.
Chorus
Then his destiny is already clear.
190
Then his destiny is already clear.
190
Electra
Phoebus offered us up for sacrifice, when he ordered the pitiable, unnatural murder of our mother, who killed our father.
Phoebus offered us up for sacrifice, when he ordered the pitiable, unnatural murder of our mother, who killed our father.
Chorus
It was just.
It was just.
Electra
But it was not well done.
You killed and were killed, my mother! and you have slain a father and your own children;
195
for we are dead or as good as dead. You are in your grave, and the greater part of my life is spent in weeping and wailing,
200
and tears at night; unmarried, childless, I drag out forever a joyless existence.
205
But it was not well done.
You killed and were killed, my mother! and you have slain a father and your own children;
195
for we are dead or as good as dead. You are in your grave, and the greater part of my life is spent in weeping and wailing,
200
and tears at night; unmarried, childless, I drag out forever a joyless existence.
205
Orestes. Euripides. Edward P. Coleridge (Translator). London. 1891.
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