Orestes Stay, poor girl; do not fear my hand.
Electra O Phoebus Apollo! I beseech you to spare my life.
Orestes May I kill others more hated than you!
Electra Go away! Do not touch one whom you must not touch.
Orestes There is no one I have a better right to touch.
Electra Then why are you in ambush, with drawn sword, near my house?
Orestes Wait and hear, and you will soon say the same.
Electra I am still; in any case, I am yours, since you are the stronger.
Orestes I have come to bring you word from your brother.
Electra Oh best of friends! Is he alive or dead?
Orestes Alive; for I want to tell you the good news first.
Electra May you be happy, as a reward for your most welcome tidings.
Orestes I give that blessing for us two to have in common.
Electra Where does the unhappy one live, in his unhappy exile?
Orestes He goes miserably about, not following the customs of any one city.
Electra Surely he does not want for a living, day by day?
Orestes He has that, but an exile is a helpless man at best.
Electra What is this message you have come bringing from him?
Orestes If you are alive, and if so, how you are.
Electra Well then, you see first of all how withered my body is.
Orestes Yes, so wasted with sorrow that I sigh for it.
Electra And my head and hair, close shaven as if by a Scythian’s razor.
Orestes Your brother and your dead father perhaps gnaw at your heart.
Electra Alas! For what is dearer to me than they?
Orestes Ah! What are you to your brother, do you think?
Electra He is far away, not here to be my friend.
Orestes Why are you living here, far from the city?
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