36
EURIPIDES
Old Man.
There, by his brow, I see
The scar he made, that day he ran with thee
Chasing thy fawn, and fell.
Electra (in a dull voice).
A scar? 'Tis so,
I see a scar.
Old Man.
And fearest still to throw
Thine arms round him thou lovest?
Electra.
O, no more!
Thy sign hath conquered me. . . . (throwing herself into Orestes' arms). At last, at last!
Thy face like light I And do I hold thee fast,
Unhoped for?
Orestes.
Yea, at last! And I hold thee.
Electra.
I never knew . . .
Orestes.
I dreamed not.
Electra.
Is it he,
Orestes?
