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SOPHOCLES.
[1165—1188

Therefore take me to this thy home, me who am as nothing, to thy nothingness, that I may dwell with thee henceforth below; for when thou wert on earth, we shared alike; and now I fain would die, that I may not be parted from thee in the grave.1170 For I see that the dead have rest from pain.

Ch. Bethink thee, Electra, thou art the child of mortal sire, and mortal was Orestes; therefore grieve not too much. This is a debt which all of us must pay.

Or. Alas, what shall I say? What words can serve me at this pass? I can restrain my lips no longer!

El. What hath troubled thee? Why didst thou say that?

Or. Is this the form of the illustrious Electra that I behold?

El. It is; and very grievous is her plight.

Or. Alas, then, for this miserable fortune!

El. Surely, sir, thy lament is not for me?1180

Or. O form cruelly, godlessly misused!

El. Those ill-omened words, sir, fit no one better than me.

Or. Alas for thy life, unwedded and all unblest!

El. Why this steadfast gaze, stranger, and these laments?

Or. How ignorant was I, then, of mine own sorrows!

El. By what that hath been said hast thou perceived this?

Or. By seeing thy sufferings, so many and so great.

El. And yet thou seest but a few of my woes.