IPH.  O all grievous she that slew and he that fell!

OR.  Cease now at least, nor question further.

IPH.  Thus much at least, does the wife of the unhappy man live?

OR.  She is no more.  The son she brought forth, he slew her.

IPH.  O house all troubled! with what intent, then?[71]

OR.  Taking satisfaction on her for the death of his father.

IPH.  Alas! how well he executed an evil act of justice.[72]

OR.  But, though just, he hath not good fortune from the Gods.

IPH.  But does Agamemnon leave any other child in his house?

OR.  He has left a single virgin [daughter,] Electra.

IPH.  What!  Is there no report of his sacrificed daughter?[73]

OR.  None indeed, save that being dead she beholds not the light.

IPH.  Hapless she, and the father who slew her!

OR.  She perished, a thankless offering[74] because of a bad woman.

IPH.  But is the son of the deceased father at Argos?

OR.  He, wretched man, is nowhere and every where.

IPH.  Away, vain dreams, ye were then of naught!

OR.  Nor are the Gods who are called wise any less false than winged dreams.  There is much inconsistency both among the Gods and among mortals.  But one thing alone is left, when[75] a man not being foolish, persuaded by the words of seers, has perished, as he hath perished in man’s knowledge.

CHOR.  Alas! alas!  But what of us and our fathers?  Are they, or are they not in being, who can tell?

IPH.  Hear me, for I am come to a certain discourse, meditating what is at once profitable for you and me.  But that which is well is chiefly produced thus, when the same matter pleases all.  Would ye be willing, if I were to save you, to go to Argos, and bear a message for me to my friends there, and carry a letter, which a certain captive wrote, pitying me, nor deeming my hand that of a murderess, but that he died through custom, as the Goddess sanctioned such things as just?  For I had no one who would go and bear the news back to Argos, and who, being preserved, would send my letters to some one of my friends.[76] But do thou, for thou art, as thou seemest, of no ignoble birth, and knowest Mycenae and the persons I wish, do thou, I say,[77] be saved, receiving no dishonorable reward, your safety for the sake of trifling letters.  But let this man, since the city compels it, be a sacrifice to the Goddess, apart from thee.

OR.  Well hast thou spoken the rest, save one thing, O stranger lady, for ’tis a heavy weight upon me that this man should be slain.  For I was steersman of the vessel to these ills,[78] but he is a fellow-sailor because of mine own troubles.  In no wise then is it right that I should do thee a favor to his destruction, and myself escape from ills.  But let it be thus.  Give him the letter, for he will send it to Argos, so as to be well for thee, but let him that will slay me.  Base is the man, who, casting his friends into calamity, himself is saved.  But this man is a friend, who I fain should see the light no less that myself.