Electra: I will look to matters here. (Orestes and Pylades go back
into the palace.)
Chorus: 'Twere well to soothe his ear with some few words of seeming
gentleness, that he may rush blindly upon the struggle with his doom.
(Aegisthus enters.)
Aegisthus: Which of you can tell me, where are those Phocian strangers,
who, 'tis said, have brought us tidings of Orestes slain in the wreck
of his chariot? Thee, thee I ask, yes, thee, in former days so bold,-
for methinks it touches thee most nearly; thou best must know, and
best canst tell.
Electra: I know assuredly; else were I a stranger to the fortune of
my nearest kinsfolk.
Aegisthus: Where then may be the strangers? Tell me.
Electra: Within; they have found a way to the heart of their hostess.
Aegisthus: Have they in truth reported him dead?
Electra: Nay, not reported only; they have shown him.
Studies
