Page:The Dramas of Aeschylus (Swanwick).djvu/152

82 Conspicuous? What disaster bringeth them?

Doth a new sorrow fall upon our house?

Or rightly may I deem that to my sire

They bear libations,—soothing to the dead?

It must be so, for yonder, as I think,

Steering this way, Electra comes, my sister,

Signal by depth of woe. Oh, grant me, Zeus,

To venge my father's death;—be thou to me

Ally propitious!—Now, my Pylades,

Stand we apart, that I may clearly learn

What may import this suppliant female train.

[They conceal themselves.

Sent from the palace, forth I tread,

Libations bearing to the dead,

Guiding, with hands swift-clapped, a doleful train.

Marred is my cheek with many a gory stain,

Nail-ploughed each new-cut furrow bleeds;

My heart on cries of dolour sateless feeds.

Rending my flaxen-tissued vest,

With smileless passion, uncontrolled,

Grief doth my sorrow-stricken breast

Dismantle of the garment's decent fold.

For, shrill of voice, hair-bristling Fear,

In Atreus' household vision-seer,