Page:Electra of Euripides (Murray 1913).djvu/37

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God! I would that now

Orestes heard thee here.

Yet, wottest thou,

Though here I saw him, I should know him not.

Surely. Ye both were children, when they wrought

Your parting.

One alone in all this land

Would know his face.

The thrall, methinks, whose hand

Stole him from death—or so the story ran?

He taught my father, too, an old old man

Of other days than these.

Thy father's grave

He had due rites and tendance?

What chance gave,

My father had, cast out to rot in the sun.