ELECTRA
35
Old Man.
Pray thine arms may hold
At last this treasure-dream of more than gold
God shows us!
Electra.
God, I pray thee! . . . Wouldst thou more?
Old Man.
Gaze now upon this man, and bow before
Thy dearest upon earth!
Electra.
I gaze on thee!
O, hath time made thee mad?
Old Man.
Mad, that I see
Thy brother?
Electra.
My . . . I know not what thou say'st:
I looked not for it . . .
Old Man.
I tell thee, here confessed
Standeth Orestes, Agamemnon's son!
Electra.
A sign before I trust thee! O, but one!
How dost thou know . . . ?
