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104
EURIPIDES.
Chorus.
Lo, softly in murmured undertone
I am sighing.
Electra.
Yea—
Lower—yet lower!—ah softly, ah softly draw nigh!
Make answer, ah why have ye hitherward wended, ah why?—150
So long is it since he hath stilled him in sleep to lie.
Chorus.
(Ant. 1)
How is it with him?—dear friend, speak.
What tidings for me?—what hath come to pass?
Electra.
Yet doth he breathe, but his moans wax weak.
Chorus.
How say'st thou?—alas!
Electra.
Thou shalt slay him, if once from his eyes thou have driven
The sweetness of slumber that o'er them flows.
Chorus.
Alas for the deeds of the malice of heaven!
Electra.
Alas for his throes!160
Wrongful was he who uttered that wrongful rede
