vered beneath his cloak, when indeed his
body is lightened of its disease, on coming to his right mind he weeps, but
at another time starts suddenly from his couch, as a colt from his yoke.
But it has been decreed by this city of Argos, that no one shall receive us
who have slain a mother under their roof, nor at their fire, and that none
shall speak to us; but this is the appointed day, in the which the city of
the Argives will pronounce their vote, whether it is fitting that we should
die being stoned with stones, or having whet the sword, should plunge it
into our necks. But I yet have some hope that we may not die, for Menelaus
has arrived at this country from Troy, and filling the Nauplian harbor with
his oars is mooring his fleet off the shore, having been lost in wanderings
from Troy a long time: but the much-afflicted Helen has he sent before to
our palace, having taken advantage of the night, lest any of those, whose
children died under Ilium, when they saw her coming, by day, might go so
far as to stone her; but she is within bewailing her sister, and the
calamity of her family. She has however some consolation in her woes, for
the virgin Hermione, whom Menelaus bringing from Sparta, left at our
palace, when he sailed to Troy, and gave as a charge to my mother to bring
up, in her she rejoices, and forgets her miseries. But I am looking at each
avenue when I shall see Menelaus present, since, for the rest, we ride on
slender power,[3] if we receive not some succor from him; the house of the
unfortunate is an embarrassed state of affairs.

ELECTRA. HELEN.

HEL. O daughter of Clytaemnestra and Agamemnon, O Electra, thou that hast
remained a virgin a long time. How are ye, O wretched woman, both you, and
your brother, the wretched Orestes (he was the murderer of his mother)? For
by thy converse I am not polluted, transferring, as I do, the blame to
Phoebus. And yet I groan the death of Clytaemnestra, whom, after that I
sailed to Troy, (how did I sail, urged by the maddening fate of the Gods!)
I saw not, but of her bereft I lament my fortune.

ELEC. Helen, why should I inform thee of things thou seest thyself here
present, the race of Agamemnon in calamities. I indeed sleepless sit
companion to the wretched corse, (for he is a corse, in that he breathes so
little,) but at his fortune I murmur not. But thou a happy woman, and thy
husband a happy man, have come to us, who fare most wretchedly.

HEL. But what length