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Exiles beside thy tomb,

Sad, suppliant pair;—

No hope relieves our gloom,

Triumphs despair.

Cho. And yet, if so the gods ordain,

Hereafter, gladder notes shall sound;—

Instead of dirge, joy's rapturous strain

Back to these halls shall lead again

The dear one newly found."

So many times they answer one another, grief by turns taking the place of hope; the tone sinking sometimes almost to despair, sometimes rising to prophetic exultation; and throughout it all they call their father, as the Persians called Darius, to come forth from his tomb, and help them to revenge. Gradually the tones grow calmer and more determined; till they settle down, when the resolve is fully ratified, into the sober language of the ordinary dialogue. Then the Chorus says,—

Yet even now the fixed resolve is to be strengthened by an omen of success. "Why," asks Orestes, "has the queen sent these offerings to the tomb, seeing that she cannot hope by any sacrifice to wash out the stain of murder?—for, as the saying runs, not all the world, poured out in one libation, could atone for one man's blood."