thrown out of his chariot; but the reins were tangled about him and held him.  And all the people cried aloud when they saw the young man dragged over the plain.  But at last they that had driven the other chariots hardly stayed the horses, and loosed him.  Covered with blood was he and sorely mangled, that none could have known him.  And we burnt his body; and certain Phocians, whom the Prince hath sent for this purpose, bring that which remaineth of him, being but a few ashes in an urn of brass, for all he was so tall and strong.  This is a sad tale for thee to hear; but for us who saw it never was anything in this world more grievous.”

Then the Queen said, “Shall I say that this hath happened ill or well? or that it is an evil thing, yet profitable to me?  Surely it is grievous that I find safety in the death of my own kindred.”

“What troubleth thee, lady, in these news?” said the false messenger.

“’Tis a dreadful thing to be a mother.  Whatever wrong she suffereth she cannot hurt him whom she bare.”

“Then,” said he, “it seemeth that I have come in vain.”

“Not so,” the Queen made answer, “if thou showest proof that Orestes is dead.  For he hath long been a stranger to me, and when he departed hence he knew me not, being very young; and of late, accusing me of the blood of his father, he hath made dreadful threats against me, so that I could not sleep in peace day or night.  And now this day I am quit of this fear that wasted my very life.”

Then the Queen and the false messenger went into the palace; and when they were gone Electra cried, saying, “See here, forsooth, a mother that weepeth and mourneth for her son!  O my Orestes, how utterly hast thou undone me!  For now all the hope I had is gone that thou wouldst come and avenge my father.  Whither can I go, for thou and he are gone?  Must I be as a slave among them that slew my father?  This gate at least I will enter no more.  If I weary them, let them slay me, if they will; I should count it a grace so to die.”

And the maidens of Argos bewailed the dead brother with her.  But in the midst of their lamentations came Chrysothemis in great joy, saying, “O my sister, I bring thee good tidings that will give thee ease from thy sorrows!”

“What ease, when they are past all remedy?”

“Orestes is here.  Know this as surely as thou now seest me before thee.”

“Surely thou art mad, and laughest at thy woes and mine.”

“Not so.  By the hearth of my fathers I swear it.  Orestes is here.”

“Who told thee this tale that thou believest so strangely?”