ELECTRA
15
Electra.
God love thee for the sweetness of thy word!
Orestes.
God love the twain of us, both thee and me.
Electra.
He lives! Poor brother! In what land weareth he
His exile?
Orestes.
Not one region nor one lot
His wasted life hath trod.
Electra.
He lacketh not
For bread?
Orestes.
Bread hath he; but a man is weak
In exile.
Electra.
What charge laid he on thee? Speak.
Orestes.
To learn if thou still live, and how the storm,
Living, hath struck thee.
Electra.
That thou seest; this form
Wasted . . .
