Epeisodion 1
Chorus Leader
Electra, you are nearby; see whether your brother has not died without your knowing it;
for I do not like his utter prostration.
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Orestes
Sweet charm of sleep, savior in sickness, how sweetly you came to me, how needed! Revered forgetfulness of troubles, how wise a goddess you are, and invoked by every suffering soul!
Addressing Electra. Where have I come from? How am I here? For I have lost all previous recollection and remember nothing.
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Electra
My dearest, how glad I was to see you fall asleep! Do you want me take you in my arms and lift your body?
Orestes
Take, oh! take me in your arms, and from this sufferer’s mouth
and eyes wipe off the flakes of foam.
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Electra
There! The service is sweet, and I do not refuse to tend a brother’s limbs with a sister’s hand.
Orestes
Prop me up, your side to mine; brush the matted hair from my face, for I see dimly.
Electra
Ah, poor head, how dirty your hair! How savage you look, remaining so long unwashed!
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Orestes
Put me once more upon the couch; whenever the madness leaves me, I am unnerved and weak.
Electra
As she lays him down. There! His couch is welcome to the sick man,
a painful possession, but a necessary one.
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Orestes
Set me upright once again, turn my body round; it is their helplessness that makes the sick so hard to please.
Electra
Will you set your feet upon the ground and take a step at last? Change is always pleasant.
Orestes
Oh, yes; for that has a semblance of health; and the semblance is preferable, though it is far from the truth.
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Electra
Hear me now, my brother, while the Furies permit you to use your senses.
Orestes
You have news to tell; if it is good, you do me a kindness;
but if it tends to my hurt, I have suffered enough.
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Electra
Menelaus, your father’s brother, has come; his ships are moored in Nauplia.
Orestes
What did you say? Has he come to be a light in our troubles, a man of our own family, who owes gratitude to our father?
Electra
He has come, and is bringing Helen from the walls of Troy—accept this as proof of what I say.
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Orestes
If he had returned alone in safety, he would be more enviable; but if he is bringing his wife, he has come with great mischief.
Electra
Tyndareus begot a race of daughters notorious for blame,
infamous throughout Hellas.
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Orestes
Then you be different from that evil brood, for you can be; and not only in words, but also in heart.
Electra
Ah! brother, your eye is growing wild, and in a moment you are turning mad again, when you were just now sane.
Orestes
Mother, I implore you! Do not shake at me those maidens with their bloodshot eyes and snaky hair. Here they are, close by, to leap on me!
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Electra
Lie still, poor sufferer, on your couch; your eye sees nothing, you only imagine that you recognize them.
Orestes
O Phoebus! they will kill me, the hounds of hell, death’s priestesses with glaring eyes, the dreadful goddesses.
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Electra
I will not let you go; but with arms twined round you, I will prevent your piteous leaping.
Orestes
Let me go! you are one of my Furies,
and are gripping me by the waist to hurl me into Tartarus!
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Electra
Alas for me! What aid can I find, when we have Heaven’s forces set against us?
Orestes
Give me my horn-tipped bow, Apollo’s gift, with which he told me to ward off the goddesses,
if ever they sought to scare me with wild transports of madness.
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A mortal hand will wound one of them, unless she departs from my sight. Don’t you hear me? Don’t you see the feathered arrows springing out from my far-shooting bow? What!
Do you linger still? Mount the sky on your wings, and blame those oracles of Phoebus.
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Ah! why am I raving, gasping? Where, oh! where have I leapt, from my couch? Once more the storm is past, I see a calm.
Sister, why do you weep, your head wrapped in your robe? I am ashamed that I should make you a partner in my sufferings and distress a maiden like you through my sickness. Do not waste away over my troubles; for though you consented to it, yet I was the one that spilled
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our mother’s blood. I blame Loxias, for urging me on to do a deed most unholy, encouraging me with words but not in deed. I believe that, if I had asked my father to his face whether I must slay my mother,
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he would have strongly entreated me, by this beard, never to plunge a sword into her throat, since he would not regain his life, and I, poor wretch, would accomplish such evil!
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And now, my sister, unveil your face
and cease to weep, despite our misery. Whenever you see me give way to despair, it is for you to calm and soothe the terrors and distorted fancies of my brain. Whenever sorrow comes to you, I must be at your side and give you comforting advice;
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for to help our friends like this is noble.
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Go in the house now, my poor sister; lie down and close your sleepless eyes; take food and bathe your body. For if you leave me or fall sick from nursing me,
I am lost. You are my only ally; I am deserted by all the rest, as you see.
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Electra
I will not leave you; with you I will choose to live and die; for it is the same: if you die, what shall I, a woman, do? How shall I escape alone,
with no brother, or father, or friends? Still, if you think it right, I must do your bidding. But lie down upon your couch, and do not pay too great heed to the terrors and alarm that scare you from your rest; lie still upon your pallet. For even if you are not sick, but only think you are,
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this brings weariness and perplexity to mortals.
Exit Electra.
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