Orestes
Euripides
Euripides. The Plays of Euripides, Translated into English Prose from the Text of Paley. Vol. II. Coleridge, Edward P., translator. London: George Bell and Sons, 1891.
- O father, in your home of gloomy night, your son Orestes calls you to come to the rescue of the destitute. It is on your account I am wrongfully suffering, and it is by your brother that I have been betrayed for doing right; it is his wife I wish to take
- and kill; you be our accomplice for this deed.
- Oh father, come! if within the ground you hear the cry of your children, who are dying for your sake.
- O kinsman of my father, Agamemnon, hear my prayers also; save your children.
- I killed my mother—
- I held the sword—
- I . . . set them free from fear—
- To aid you, father.
- Nor did I betray you.
- Will you not hear these reproaches and rescue your children?
- With tears I pour you a libation.
- And I with laments.
- Cease, and let us set about our business. If prayers really do pierce the ground, he hears. O Zeus, god of my fathers, and holy Justice, give success to him and me and her; for there is one struggle for three friends, and one penalty,
- for all to live or—pay death’s account. Exeunt Orestes and Pylades.
- My dear friends of Mycenae, of foremost rank in Argos, the home of the Pelasgians.
- What are you saying to us, mistress?
- For this honored name is still left for you in the Danaid town.
- Station yourselves, some here along the high road, others there on some other path, to watch the house.
- But why do you call me to this service? Tell me, my dear.
- I am afraid that some one, who is stationed at the house for slaughter, may find trouble upon trouble.