Did Loxias forbid me to approach.
And let all Argive men, in after time,
Bear witness for me how these woes were wrought;
Living, an exile from this land I roam;
Leaving behind, when dead, these fateful words.
Chorus.
Noble thy deed, then yoke not now thy mouth
To bodeful speech, nor vent ill-omened words,
Since thou, with lucky stroke lopping the head
From serpent twain, all Argos' state hast freed.
[The Furies are seen rising in the background.]
Orestes.
Ah! ah! ye handmaids, Gorgon-like they come,
Vested in sable stoles, their locks entwined
With clustering snakes. No longer may I bide.
Chorus.
Dearest of mortals to thy father, say, 1040
What fancies scare thee? Hold, yield not to fear.
Orestes.
To me no woe-engendered fancies these;
Too well I know my mother's vengeful hounds.
Chorus.
Still reeking is the blood upon thy hand,
Hence is it that distraction smites thy brain.
