Epeisodion 1
Chorus
Say in plain speech, One who will take life for life.
Electra
And is it right for me to ask this of the gods?
Chorus
How could it not be right to repay an enemy with ills?
Electra
Supreme herald of the realm above and the realm below, O Hermes of the nether world, come to my aid,
summon to me the spirits beneath the earth to hear my prayers, spirits that watch over my father’s house, and Earth herself, who gives birth to all things, and having nurtured them receives their increase in turn. And meanwhile, as I pour these lustral offerings to the dead,
125
I invoke my father: Have pity both on me and on dear Orestes! How shall we rule our own house? For now we are bartered away like vagrants by her who bore us, by her who in exchange got as her mate Aegisthus, who was her accomplice in your murder.
130
As for me, I am no better than a slave, Orestes is an outcast from his inheritance, while they in their insolence revel openly in the winnings of your toil. But that Orestes may come home with good fortune I pray to you, father: Oh, hearken to me!
135
And as for myself, grant that I may prove far more circumspect than my mother and more reverent in deed.
I utter these prayers on our behalf, but I ask that your avenger appear to our foes, father, and that your killers may be killed in just retribution.
140
So I interrupt my prayer for good to offer them this prayer for evil. But be a bearer of blessings for us to the upper world, with the help of the gods and Earth and Justice crowned with victory. She pours out the libations
Such are my prayers, and over them I pour out these libations.
145
It is right for you to crown them with lamentations, raising your voices in a chant for the dead.
150
Chorus
Pour forth your tears, splashing as they fall for our fallen lord, to accompany this protection against evil, this charm for the good
against the loathsome pollution. Hear me, oh hear me, my honored lord, out of the darkness of your spirit.Or ἀμαυρᾶς may mean feeble, helpless, to contrast the spirit of the dead with that of the living. But cp. 323.
Woe, woe, woe! Oh for
155
a man mighty with the spear to deliver our house, an Ares, brandishing in the fight the springing Scythian bow and wielding his hilted sword in close combat. As they conclude, Electra discovers the lock of Orestes’ hair
160
Electra
My father has by now received the libations, which the earth has drunk.
But take your share of this startling news.
165
Chorus
Speak—but my heart is dancing with fear.
Electra
I see here a lock cut as an offering for the tomb.
Chorus
A man’s, or a deep-girt maid’s?
Electra
That is open to conjecture—anyone may guess.
170
Chorus
How then? Let my age be taught by your youth.
