ELECTRA
Electra
Yea, in a strange land far away—
Chorus
Alas!
Electra
To lie untended by my hands,
Unwept, ungraced with sepulture by me!
Enter Chrysothemis.
Chrysothemis
Joy, dearest sister, sped me hitherward,
And haply with unseemly haste I ran
To bring the joyful tidings and relief
From all thy woes and weary sufferings.
Electra
And where canst thou have found a remedy
For irremediable woes like mine?
Chrysothemis
Orestes—hear it from my lips—is here,
In bodily presence, as thou see’st me now.
Electra
Art mad, poor sister, making mockery
Of thine own misery and mine withal?
Chrysothemis
I mock not, by our father’s hearth I swear it;
In very truth we have him here again.
Electra
O misery! And, prithee, from whose mouth
Hadst thou this tale so blindly credited?
Chrysothemis
I trusted to none other than myself,
The clearest proof and evidence of my eyes.
