MEN.  Nor hast thou washed thy blood from thy hands according to the laws?

ORES. How can I? for I am shut out from the houses, whithersoever I go.

MEN.  Who of the citizens thus contend to drive thee from the land?

ORES.  Oeax,[12] imputing to my father the hatred which arose on account of
Troy.

MEN.  I understand.  The death of Palamede takes its vengeance on thee.

ORES.  In which at least I had no share—­but I perish by the three.

MEN.  But who else?  Is it perchance one of the friends of AEgisthus?

ORES.  They persecute me, whom now the city obeys.

MEN.  But does the city suffer thee to wield Agamemnon’s sceptre?

ORES.  How should they? who no longer suffer us to live.

MEN.  Doing what, which thou canst tell me as a clear fact?

ORES.  This very day sentence will be passed upon us.

MEN.  To be exiled from this city? or to die? or not to die?

ORES.  To die, by being stoned with stones by the citizens.

MEN.  And dost thou not fly then, escaping beyond the boundaries of the country?

ORES. How can we? for we are surrounded on every side by brazen arms.

MEN.  By private enemies, or by the hand of Argos?

ORES.  By all the citizens, that I may die—­the word is brief.

MEN.  O unhappy man! thou art come to the extreme of misfortune.

ORES.  On thee my hope builds her escape from evils, but, thyself happy, coming among the distressed, impart thy good fortune to thy friends, and be not the only man to retain a benefit thou hast received, but undertake also services in thy turn, paying their father’s kindness to those to whom thou oughtest.  For those friends have the name, not the reality, who are not friends in adversity.

CHOR.  And see the Spartan Tyndarus is toiling hither with his aged foot, in a black vest, and shorn, his locks cut off in mourning for his daughter.

ORES.  I am undone, O Menelaus!  Lo!  Tyndarus is coming toward us, to come before whose presence, most of all men’s, shame covereth me, on account of what has been done.  For he used to nurture me when I was little, and satiated me with many kisses, dandling in his arms Agamemnon’s boy, and Leda with him, honoring me no less than the twin-born of Jove.  For which, O my wretched heart and soul, I have given no good return:  what dark veil can I take for my countenance? what cloud can I place before me, that I may avoid the glances of the old man’s eyes?

TYNDARUS, MENELAUS, ORESTES, CHORUS.

TYND.  Where, where can I see my daughter’s husband Menelaus?  For as I was pouring my libations on the tomb of Clytaemnestra, I heard that he was come to Nauplia with his wife, safe through a length of years.  Conduct me, for I long to stand by his hand and salute him, seeing my friend after a long lapse of time.