EL.  By all means, if it pleasure thee, say on.

CHR.  Well, I will tell thee all I saw:—­I came
Unto the ancient tomb that holds our sire;
And from the topmost mound I marked a stream
Of milk fresh-flowing, and his resting place
Ringed round with garlands of all flowers that blow. 
I marvelled at the sight, and peered about,
Lest some one might be nearer than we knew. 
But finding all was quiet in the spot,
I ventured closer to the tomb, and there,
Hard by the limit, I beheld a curl
Of hair new shorn, with all the gloss of youth
And straight it struck my heart, as with a sense
Of something seen, ah me! long, long ago,
And told me that my sight encountered here
The token of Orestes, dearest soul
Then, clasping it, I did not cry aloud,
But straight mine eyes were filled with tears of joy. 
And now as much as then I feel assured
He and none else bestowed this ornament. 
To whom beyond thyself and me belongs
Such consecration?  And I know this well,
I did it not,—­nor thou.  Impossible! 
Thou canst not worship even the blessed Gods
Forth of this roof, unpunished.  And, most sure,
Our mother is not minded so to act,
Nor, had she done it, could we fail to know. 
This offering comes then of Orestes’ hand. 
Take courage, dear one.  Not one fate pursues
One house perpetually, but changeth still. 
Ours was a sullen Genius, but perchance
This day begins the assurance of much good.

EL.  Oh how I pity thine infatuate mind!

CHR.  Why?  Dost thou find no comfort in my news?

EL.  You know not where you roam.  Far wide! far wide!

CHR.  Not know? when I have seen it with mine eyes?

EL.  Dear, he is dead.  Look not to him, poor girl! 
Salvation comes to thee no more from him.

CHR.  Oh me, unfortunate!  Who told thee this?

EL.  He who stood by and saw his life destroyed.

CHR.  Amazement seizes me.  Where is that man?

EL.  Right welcome to the mother there within.

CHR.  Me miserable!  Who then can have decked
With all those ceremonies our father’s tomb?

EL.  I cannot but suppose some hand hath brought
These gifts in memory of Orestes dead.

CHR.  O cruel fate!  While I in ecstasy
Sped with such news, all ignorant, it seems,
Of our dire fortune; and, arriving, find
Fresh sorrows added to the former woe.

EL.  It is so, sister; yet if thou wilt list
To me, thou mayest disperse this heaviness.

CHR.  What?  Shall I raise the dead again to life?

EL.  I did not mean so.  I am not so fond.

CHR.  What bid you then that I have power to do?

EL.  To endure courageously what I enjoin.

CHR.  So it make profit, I will not refuse.

EL.  Remember, without toil no plan may thrive!

CHR.  I know it, and will aid thee to my power.