Chorus.
O Night, dark mother, seest thou these things?
Orestes.
The noose awaits me, or to see the light.
Chorus.
Ruin for us, or firm prerogative.
[The pebbles are poured out of the urn and counted.]
Apollo.
Now strangers, count the pebbles with due care;
And while ye tell them o'er, let justice reign;
Lack of right judgment breedeth mighty woe, 720
The while one suffrage hath a house restored.
Athena.
This man acquitted is from charge of blood,
For equal are the numbers of the votes.
Orestes.
Hail Pallas! Hail thou saviour of my house!
Me, when bereft of my paternal land,
Thou leadest home: haply some Greek will say,
"The man an Argive is once more, and dwells
On his paternal heritage, by aid
Of Pallas, and of Loxias, and Him,
Third Saviour, mighty consummator, Zeus,"—
Who, honouring my father's death, saves me, 730
Beholding these my mother's advocates.
Now to my native Argos I depart,
Pledged to this country and thy lieges here
