Helen: Daughter of Clytemnestra and Agamemnon, hapless Electra, too
long now left a maid unwed! how is it with thee and thy brother, this
ill-starred Orestes who slew his mother! Speak; for referring the
sin as I do to Phoebus, I incur no pollution by letting thee accost
me; and yet am truly sorry for the fate of my sister Clytenmestra,
on whom I ne'er set eyes after I was driven by heaven-sent frenzy
to sail on my disastrous voyage to Ilium; but now that I am parted
from her I bewail our misfortunes.
Electra: Prithee, Helen, why should I speak of that which thine own
eyes can see the son of Agamemnon in his misery?
Beside his wretched corpse I sit, a sleepless sentinel; for corpse
he is, so faint his breath; not that I reproach him with his sufferings;
but thou art highly blest and thy husband too, and ye are come upon
us in the hour of adversity.
Helen: How long hath he been laid thus upon his couch?
Electra: Ever since he spilt his mother's blood-.
Helen: Unhappy wretch! unhappy mother! what a death she died!
Studies
