Thronging the Nauplian haven with his fleet
Off-shore he anchors, who hath wandered long55
Homeless from Troy. But Helen—"sorrow-laden"
She names herself![1]—safe screened by night he sent
Before, unto our house, lest some, whose sons
At Ilium fell, if she by daylight came,
Should see, and stone her. Now within she weeps60
Her sister and her house's misery.
And yet hath she some solace in her griefs:
The child whom, sailing unto Troy, she left,
Hermionê, whom Menelaus brought
From Sparta to my mother's fostering,65
In her she joys, and can forget her woes.
I gaze far down the highway, strain to see
Menelaus come. Frail anchor of hope is ours
To ride on, if we be not saved of him.
In desperate plight is an ill-fated house.70
Enter Helen.
Helen.
Klytemnestra's daughter, Agamemnon's child,
Electra, maid a weary while unwed,
Hapless, how fare ye, thou and the stricken one
Thy brother Orestes, who his mother slew?
I come, as unpolluted by thy speech,[2]75
Since upon Phœbus all thy sin I lay.
Yet do I moan for Klytemnestra's fate,
My sister, whom, since unto Ilium
