Parodos
[Choral 2]
giver of sleep to hard-working mortals, come from Erebus, come, wing your way to the palace of Agamemnon.
175
Electra
For with misery and woe we are lost, we are gone.
180
There! To the Chorus. that noise again! Do be still and keep the sound of your voice
away from his couch; let him enjoy his sleep in peace, my dear!
185
Chorus
Tell me, what end of troubles awaits him.
Electra
Death, death; what else? For he has no desire for food.
Chorus
Then his destiny is already clear.
190
Electra
Phoebus offered us up for sacrifice, when he ordered the pitiable, unnatural murder of our mother, who killed our father.
Electra
But it was not well done.
You killed and were killed, my mother! and you have slain a father and your own children;
195
for we are dead or as good as dead. You are in your grave, and the greater part of my life is spent in weeping and wailing,
200
and tears at night; unmarried, childless, I drag out forever a joyless existence.
205
