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ORESTES.
115
Menelaus.
Gods!—what see I? What ghost do I behold?385
Orestes.
A ghost indeed—through woes a death-in-life!
Menelaus.
How wild thy matted locks are, hapless one!
Orestes.
My deeds, not mine appearance, torture me.[1]
Menelaus.
Fearfully glarest thou with stony eyes!
Orestes.
My life is gone: my name alone is left.390
Menelaus.
Ah visage marred past all imagining!
Orestes.
A hapless mother's murderer am I.
Menelaus.
I heard:—its horrors spare: thy words be few.
Orestes.
I spare. No horrors heaven spares to me!
