ELECTRA
Electra
My resolution was not born to-day.
Chrysothemis
Then I will go, for thou canst not be brought
To approve my words, nor I to approve thy ways.
Electra
Go in then; I shall never follow thee,
E’en shouldst thou pray me: ’tis insane to urge
An idle suit.
Chrysothemis
Well, if thou art wise
In thine own eyes, so let it be; anon,
Sore stricken, thou wilt take my words to heart.
[Exit Chrysothemis.
Chorus
Wise nature taught the birds of air (Str. 1)
For those who reared them in the nest to care;
The parent bird is nourished by his brood,
And shall not we, as they,
The debt of nature pay,
Shall man not show like gratitude?
By Zeus who hurls the leven,
By Themis throned in heaven,
There comes a judgment day;
Not long shall punishment delay.
O voice that echoes to the world below,
Bear to the dead a wail of woe,
A coronach, a tale of shame
To Atreus’ line proclaim.
Tell him his house is stricken sore, (Ant. 1)
Tell him his children now no more
In amity together dwell;
Dire strife the twain divides,
