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Ores. And did we then, ye women, hear aright?

And do we rightly journey where we wish?

Chor. What dost thou search? And wherefore art thou come?

Ores. This long time past I seek Ægisthos' home.

Chor. Thou comest right, and blameless he who told thee.

Ores. And which of you would tell to those within

The longed-for coming of our company?

Chor. [Pointing to .] She, if 'tis fit to call the nearest one.

Ores. Go then, Ο maiden, go and tell them there,

That certain men from Phokis seek Ægisthos.

Elec. Ah, wretched me! It cannot be ye bring

Clear proofs of that dire rumour which we heard?

Ores. I know not of thy rumour; Strophios old

Charged me to bring the news about Orestes.

Elec. What is it, stranger? Fear creeps through my veins.

Ores. We bring, as thou dost see, in one small urn,

All that is left, poor relics of the dead.

Elec. Ah, me! And this is it! 'Twould seem I gaze

On that same burden, clear and close at hand.

Ores. If thou dost weep Orestes' hapless fate,

Know that this urn doth all his body hold.

Elec. Ah, stranger! Now by all the Gods, I pray,

If this urn hold him, give it in mine hands,

That I my fate and that of all my kin

May wail and weep with these poor ashes here.

Ores. [To his Attendants.] Bring it, and give it her,

whoe'er she be:

At least she does not ask it as in hate,