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.

  1. away from his couch; let him enjoy his sleep in peace, my dear!
Chorus
  1. Tell me, what end of troubles awaits him.
Electra
  1. Death, death; what else? For he has no desire for food.
Chorus
  1. Then his destiny is already clear.
Electra
  1. Phoebus offered us up for sacrifice, when he ordered the pitiable, unnatural murder of our mother, who killed our father.
Chorus
  1. It was just.
Electra
  1. But it was not well done.
  2. You killed and were killed, my mother! and you have slain a father and your own children;
  3. for we are dead or as good as dead. You are in your grave, and the greater part of my life is spent in weeping and wailing,
  4. and tears at night; unmarried, childless, I drag out forever a joyless existence.
Chorus Leader
  1. Electra, you are nearby; see whether your brother has not died without your knowing it;
  2. for I do not like his utter prostration.
Orestes
  1. Sweet charm of sleep, savior in sickness, how sweetly you came to me, how needed! Revered forgetfulness of troubles, how wise a goddess you are, and invoked by every suffering soul!
  2. Addressing Electra.Where have I come from? How am I here? For I have lost all previous recollection and remember nothing.
Electra
  1. My dearest, how glad I was to see you fall asleep! Do you want me take you in my arms and lift your body?
Orestes
  1. Take, oh! take me in your arms, and from this sufferer’s mouth
  2. and eyes wipe off the flakes of foam.
Electra
  1. There! The service is sweet, and I do not refuse to tend a brother’s limbs with a sister’s hand.
Orestes
  1. Prop me up, your side to mine; brush the matted hair from my face, for I see dimly.
Electra
  1. Ah, poor head, how dirty your hair! How savage you look, remaining so long unwashed!