r to preserve her beauty; but
she is the same woman she always was. May the Gods detest thee, for that
thou hast destroyed me, and this man, and the whole state of Greece: oh
wretch that I am! But my dear friends that accompany me in my lamentations
are again present; perhaps they will disturb the sleeper from his slumber,
and will melt my eyes in tears when I behold my brother raving.
ELECTRA, CHORUS.
ELEC. O most dear woman, proceed with a gentle foot, make no noise, let
there be heard no sound. For your friendliness is very kind, but to awake
him will be a calamity to me. Hush, hush--gently advance the tread of thy
sandal, make no noise, let there be heard no sound. Move onward from that
place--onward from before the couch.
CHOR. Behold, I obey.
ELEC. St! st! Speak to me, my friend, as the breathing of the soft reed
pipe.
CHOR. See, I utter a voice low as an under note.
ELEC. Ay, thus come hither, come hither, approach quietly--go quietly: tell
me, for what purpose, I pray, are ye come? For he has fallen on his couch,
and been sleeping some time.
CHOR. How is he? Give us an account of him, my friend.
ELEC. What fortune can I say of him? and what his calamities? still indeed
he breathes, but sighs at short intervals.
CHOR. What sayest thou? Oh, the unhappy man!
ELEC. You will kill him if you move his eyelids, now that he is taking the
sweetest enjoyment of sleep.
CHOR. Unfortunate on account of these most angry deeds from heaven! oh!
wretched on account of thy sufferings!
ELEC. Alas! alas! Apollo himself unjust, then spoke unjust things, when at
the tripod of Themis he commanded the unhallowed, inauspicious murder of my
mother.
CHOR. Dost thou see? he moves his body in the robes that cover him.
ELEC. You by your cries, O wretch, have disturbed him from his sleep.
CHOR. I indeed think he is sleeping yet.
ELEC. Will you not depart from us? will you not bend your footsteps back
from the house, ceasing this noise?
CHOR. He sleeps.
ELEC. Thou sayest well.
CHOR. Venerable, venerable Night, thou that dispensest sleep to languid
mortals, come from Erebus; come, come, borne on thy wings to the house of
Agamemnon; for by our griefs and by our sufferings we are quite undone,
undone.
ELEC. Ye were making a noise.
CHOR. No. (Note [A].)
ELEC. Silently, silently repressing the high notes of your voice, apart
from his couch, you will enable him to have the tranquil enjoyment of
slee
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