EL.  O day of days!

OR.  Time hath no happier hour.

EL.  Is it thy voice?

OR.  Hearken not otherwhere.

EL.  Have my arms caught thee?

OR.  Hold me so for aye!

EL.  O dearest women, Argives of my home! 
Ye see Orestes, dead in craft, but now
By that same craft delivered and preserved.

CH.  We see, dear daughter, and the gladsome tear
Steals from our eye to greet the bright event.

EL.  Offspring of him I loved beyond all telling!  I 1
Ah! thou art come,—­hast found me, eye to eye
Behold’st the face thou didst desire to see.

OR.  True, I am here; but bide in silence still.

EL.  Wherefore?

OR.  Hush! speak not loud, lest one within should hearken.

EL.  By ever-virgin Artemis, ne’er will I
Think worthy of my fear
This useless mass of woman-cowardice
Burdening the house within,
Not peering out of door.

OR.  Yet know that women too have might in war. 
Of that methinks thou hast feeling evidence.

EL.  Ah me! thou hast unveiled
And thrust before my gaze
That burning load of my distress
No time will soothe, no remedy will heal.

OR.  I know that too.  But when we are face to face
With the evildoers,—­then let remembrance work.

EL.  All times alike are fit with instant pain I 2
Justly to mind me of that dreadful day;
Even now but hardly hath my tongue been free.

OR.  Yes, that is it.  Therefore preserve this boon.

EL.  Whereby?

OR.  Put limits to unseasonable talk.

EL.  Ah! brother, who, when thou art come,
Could find it meet to exchange
Language for silence, as thou bidst me do? 
Since beyond hope or thought
Was this thy sight to me.

OR.  God gave me to your sight when so he willed.

EL.  O heaven of grace beyond
The joy I knew but now! 
If God hath brought thee to our roof,
A miracle of bounty then is here.

OR.  I hate to curb the gladness of thy spirit,
But yet I fear this ecstasy of joy.

EL.  Oh! after all these years, II
Now thou at length hast sped
Thy dearest advent on the wished-for way,
Do not, in all this woe
Thou seest surrounding me—­

OR.  What means this prayer?

EL.  Forbid me not my joy,
Nor make me lose the brightness of thy face!

OR.  Deep were my wrath at him who should attempt it.

EL.  Is my prayer heard?

OR.  Why doubt it?

EL.  Friends, I learned
A tale beyond my thought; and hearing I restrained
My passion, voiceless in my misery,
Uttering no cry.  But now
I have thee safe; now, dearest, thou art come,
With thy blest countenance, which I
Can ne’er forget, even at the worst of woe.