Chrysothemis
When reason does her office, thou
Shalt be my guide.
What shame to speak so well,
And act so ill!
Thou clearly hast explain'd
Thy own disease.
What, seem I not to speak
With justice?
There are times when justice leads
To ruin.
By such laws I will not live.
CHRY. But if thou dost these things, thou wilt applaud
Me, and my prudence.
These things I will do,
Nothing appall'd by thee.
Art thou resolved?
And will no counsel move thee?
To my soul
Ill counsels are most hateful.
Much averse
Thy mind appears to all I say.
By long
Deliberate thought my purpose firm is fix'd.
CHRY. I leave thee, since thy mind with scorn rejects
My words, nor can I favour thy designs.
ELEC. Go then; and wish it with what warmth thou may'st,
I never will hold converse with thee more.
Folly alone a thing so slight would court.
CHRY. This may thy mind think wisdom; think so still:
But 'midst thy sufferings thou wilt deem me wise.
Electra. Sophocles. Robert Potter (Translator). London. 1820.