So I interrupt my prayer for good to offer them this prayer for evil. But be a bearer of blessings for us to the upper world, with the help of the gods and Earth and Justice crowned with victory.
She pours out the libationsSuch are my prayers, and over them I pour out these libations.It is right for you to crown them with lamentations, raising your voices in a chant for the dead.
ChorusPour forth your tears, splashing as they fall for our fallen lord, to accompany this protection against evil, this charm for the goodagainst the loathsome pollution. Hear me, oh hear me, my honored lord, out of the darkness of your spirit.Or ἀμαυρᾶς may mean feeble, helpless, to contrast the spirit of the dead with that of the living. But cp. 323.
Woe, woe, woe! Oh fora man mighty with the spear to deliver our house, an Ares, brandishing in the fight the springing Scythian bow and wielding his hilted sword in close combat. As they conclude, Electra discovers the lock of Orestes’ hair
ElectraMy father has by now received the libations, which the earth has drunk.But take your share of this startling news.
ChorusSpeak—but my heart is dancing with fear.
ElectraI see here a lock cut as an offering for the tomb.
ChorusA man’s, or a deep-girt maid’s?
ElectraThat is open to conjecture—anyone may guess.ChorusHow then? Let my age be taught by your youth.
ElectraThere is no one who could have cut it but myself.
ChorusYes, for those who ought to have mourned with a lock of hair are enemies.
ElectraAnd further, in appearance it is very much like—