Chorus
369cont2
and weep, and waste away
At a vile feast, that bears my father's name,
In secret mourning, for I dare not pour
My tears to sooth the anguish of my soul;
For soon this woman, to her noble name
A foul disgrace, calls out, and with harsh words
370
Reviles me, "Wretch, detested by the gods,
370
"To thee alone then did thy father die?
370
"Dost none but thou lament him? Get thee hence,
370
"And perish: never may th' infernal gods
"Soften the sorrows which now rend thy heart!"
Thus she reviles me; but if one she hears
Speak of Orestes as returning, wild
Electra. Sophocles. Robert Potter (Translator). London. 1820.