Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1896) v2.djvu/263

Rh For many nobly born be knaves in grain.

Yet—(aloud) to the strangers greeting fair I give.

Greeting, grey sire! Electra, of thy friends

Who hath this time-worn wreck of man to thrall?

This, stranger, was my father's fosterer.

How say'st thou?—this, who stole thy brother hence?

.

Even he who saved him, if he liveth yet.

Why looks he on me, as who eyes the stamp

On silver?—likening me to any man?

Joying perchance to see Orestes' friend.

A dear friend he:—yet wherefore pace me round?

I also marvel, stranger, seeing this.

Daughter Electra—princess!—pray the Gods—