Electra.
How on a stony plain should there be made
Impress of feet? Yea, if such print be there,
Brother's and sister's foot should never match—
A man's and woman's: greater is the male.
Old Man.
Hath he not weft of thine own loom—whereby 540
To know thy brother, if he should return—[1]
Wherein I stole him, years agone, from death?
Electra.
Know'st thou not, when Orestes fled the land,
I was a child?—yea, had I woven vests,
How should that lad the same cloak wear to-day, 545
Except, as waxed the body, vestures grew?
Old Man.
Where be the strangers? I would fain behold
And of thine absent brother question them.
Electra.
Lo, here with light foot step they forth the house.
Re-enter Orestes and Pylades.
Old Man (aside).
High-born of mien:—yet false the coin may be; 550