;--

CHOR. What voice art thou uttering, my respected mistress? for this
appellation awaits thee in the city of the Danaids.

ELEC. Arrange yourselves, some of you in this beaten way, and some there,
in that other path, to guard the house.

CHOR. But on what account dost thou command this, tell me, my friend.

ELEC. Fear possesses me, lest any one being in the palace, on account of
this murderous deed, should contrive evils on evils.

SEMICHOR. Go, let us hasten, I indeed will guard this path, that tends
toward where the sun flings his first rays.

SEMICHOR. And I indeed this, which leads toward the west.

ELEC. Now turn the glances of your eyes around in every position, now here,
now there, then take some other view.

CHOR. We are, as thou commandest.

ELEC. Now roll your eyelids over your pupils, glance them every way through
your ringlets.

SEMICHOR. Is this any one here appearing in the path?--Who is this rustic
that is standing about thy palace?

ELEC. We are undone then, my friends; he will immediately show to the enemy
the lurking beasts of prey armed with their swords.

SEMICHOR. Be not afraid, the path is clear, which thou thinkest not.

ELEC. But what?--does all with you remain secure? Give me some good report,
whether the space before the hall be empty?

SEMICHOR. All here at least is well, but look to thy province, for no one
of the Danaids is approaching toward us.

SEMICHOR. Thy report agrees with mine, for neither is there a disturbance
here.

ELEC. Come now,--I will listen at the door: why do ye delay, ye that are
within, to sacrifice the victim, now that ye are in quiet?--They hear not:
Alas me! wretched in misery! Are the swords then struck dumb at her beauty?
Perhaps some Argive in arms rushing in with the foot of succor will
approach the palace.--Now watch more carefully; it is no contest that
admits delay; but turn _your eyes_ some this way, and some that.

CHOR. I turn each different way, looking about on all sides.

HELEN. (_within_) Oh! Pelasgian Argos! I am miserably slain!

ELEC. Heard ye? The men are employing their head in the murder.--It is the
shriek of Helen, as I may conjecture.

SEMICHOR. O eternal might of Jove, come to assist my friends in every way.

HEL. Menelaus, I die! But thou art at hand, and dost not help me!

ELEC. Kill, strike, slay, plunging with your hands the two double-edged
swords into the deserter of her father, the deserter of her husband, who