[_The
Attendants
depart;_ CLYTEMNESTRA, _left alone, proceeds to enter the
house_.
house_.
Euripides - Electra
Alone I bare my child.
CLYTEMNESTRA
What, is thy cot so friendless? And this wild
So far from aid?
ELECTRA.
Who seeks for friendship sake
A beggar's house?
CLYTEMNESTRA.
I will go in, and make
Due worship for thy child, the Peace-bringer.
To all thy need I would be minister.
Then to my lord, where by the meadow side
He prays the woodland nymphs.
Ye handmaids, guide
My chariot to the stall, and when ye guess
The rite draws near its end, in readiness
Be here again. Then to my lord! . . . I owe
My lord this gladness, too.
[_The Attendants depart;_ CLYTEMNESTRA, _left alone, proceeds to enter the
house_.
ELECTRA.
Welcome below
My narrow roof! But have a care withal,
A grime of smoke lies deep upon the wall.
Soil not thy robe! . . .
Not far now shall it be,
The sacrifice God asks of me and thee.
The bread of Death is broken, and the knife
Lifted again that drank the Wild Bull's life:
And on his breast. . . . Ha, Mother, hast slept well
Aforetime? Thou shalt lie with him in Hell.
That grace I give to cheer thee on thy road;
Give thou to me--peace from my father's blood!
CLYTEMNESTRA
What, is thy cot so friendless? And this wild
So far from aid?
ELECTRA.
Who seeks for friendship sake
A beggar's house?
CLYTEMNESTRA.
I will go in, and make
Due worship for thy child, the Peace-bringer.
To all thy need I would be minister.
Then to my lord, where by the meadow side
He prays the woodland nymphs.
Ye handmaids, guide
My chariot to the stall, and when ye guess
The rite draws near its end, in readiness
Be here again. Then to my lord! . . . I owe
My lord this gladness, too.
[_The Attendants depart;_ CLYTEMNESTRA, _left alone, proceeds to enter the
house_.
ELECTRA.
Welcome below
My narrow roof! But have a care withal,
A grime of smoke lies deep upon the wall.
Soil not thy robe! . . .
Not far now shall it be,
The sacrifice God asks of me and thee.
The bread of Death is broken, and the knife
Lifted again that drank the Wild Bull's life:
And on his breast. . . . Ha, Mother, hast slept well
Aforetime? Thou shalt lie with him in Hell.
That grace I give to cheer thee on thy road;
Give thou to me--peace from my father's blood!