LEADER (looking up).

Is it for us, O Seed of Zeus,
To speak and hear your words again! 
CASTOR.  Speak:  of this blood ye bear no stain. 
ELECTRA.  I also, sons of Tyndareus,

My kinsmen; may my word be said? 
CASTOR.  Speak:  on Apollo’s head we lay
The bloody doings of this day. 
LEADER.  Ye Gods, ye brethren of the dead,

Why held ye not the deathly herd
Of Keres back from off this home? 
CASTOR.  There came but that which needs must come
By ancient Fate and that dark word

That rang from Phoebus in his mood. 
ELECTRA.  And what should Phoebus seek with me,
Or all God’s oracles that be,
That I must bear my mother’s blood?

CASTOR.  Thy hand was as thy brother’s hand,
           Thy doom shall be as his.  One stain,
           From dim forefathers on the twain
         Lighting, hath sapped your hearts as sand.

ORESTES (who has never raised his head, nor spoken to the Gods).

After so long, sister, to see
And hold thee, and then part, then part,
By all that chained thee to my heart
Forsaken, and forsaking thee!

CASTOR.  Husband and house are hers.  She bears
           No bitter judgment, save to go
           Exiled from Argos. 
ELECTRA.  And what woe,
         What tears are like an exile’s tears?

ORESTES.  Exiled and more am I; impure,
           A murderer in a stranger’s hand: 
CASTOR.  Fear not.  There dwells in Pallas’ land
         All holiness.  Till then endure!
                                 [ORESTES and ELECTRA embrace

ORESTES.  Aye, closer; clasp my body well,
           And let thy sorrow loose, and shed,
           As o’er the grave of one new dead,
         Dead evermore, thy last farewell! [A sound of weeping.

CASTOR.  Alas, what would ye?  For that cry
           Ourselves and all the sons of heaven
           Have pity.  Yea, our peace is riven
         By the strange pain of these that die.

ORESTES.  No more to see thee!  ELECTRA.  Nor thy breath
           Be near my face!  ORESTES.  Ah, so it ends. 
ELECTRA.  Farewell, dear Argos.  All ye friends,
         Farewell!  ORESTES.  O faithful unto death,

Thou goest?  ELECTRA.  Aye, I pass from you,
Soft-eyed at last.  ORESTES.  Go, Pylades,
And God go with you!  Wed in peace
My tall Electra, and be true.
[ELECTRA and PYLADES depart to the left.

CASTOR.

Their troth shall fill their hearts.—­But on: 
Dread feet are near thee, hounds of prey,
Snake-handed, midnight-visaged, yea,
And bitter pains their fruit!  Begone!
[ORESTES departs to the right.

But hark, the far Sicilian sea
Calls, and a noise of men and ships
That labour sunken to the lips
In bitter billows; forth go we,