Electra
Thy will is mine. Not to myself I owe
My present bliss ; I have it all from thee —
From thee, my brother ; nor should aught persuade me
1300
To give Orestes e'en a moment's pain.
That were ungrateful to th' indulgent power
Who thus hath smiled propitious. Know, -^gisthus
1305
Has left the palace ; Clytemnestra's there ;
And for thy needless fears that I should smile,
Or wear a cheerful face, I never shall —
Hatred so strong is rooted in my soul,
The sight of them will make me sad enough.
1310
The tears of joy perhaps may flow for thee,
And add to the deceit ; for flow they must,
When I behold thee in one happy hour
Thus snatched from life, and thus to life restored.
I could not hope it. Oh I 'tis passing strange !
If from the tomb our father should arise
1315
And R.'iv he lived, I think I should believe liini :
And oh ! when thou art come so far, 'tis fit
I yield to thee in all. Do thou direct
My every step ; but know, had I been left
Alone, e'en I would not have failed in all,
1320
But conquered bravely, or as bravely fell.
Electra. Sophocles. Thomas Francklin (Translator). London. 1758–1759.