Chorus
Set your step to the dance, my dear, like a fawn leaping high up to heaven with joy. Your brother is victorious and has accomplished the wearing of a crown . . . beside the streams of Alpheus. Come sing a glorious victory ode, to my dance.
Electra
O light, O blaze of the sun, drawn by its team! O earth and night, all that I saw before; now I am free to open my eyes, for Aegisthus, my father’s murderer, has fallen. Come, let me bring out whatever adornment for hair that I have and my house contains, friends, and I shall wreath the head of my conquering brother.
Chorus
It is for you to bring adornment now for his head; our dance, dear to the Muses, will go on. Now, those who were once our dear kings will rule our land justly, having destroyed the unjust. So let the shout, harmonious with joy, go up.
Electra O glorious victor, Orestes, son of a father victorious in battle under Troy, receive this band for the locks of your hair. You have come home, running a contest of the stadium that was not useless, but rather killing Aegisthus, the murderer of your father and mine. And you, his companion, Pylades, taught by a most pious father, receive a garland from my hand; for you also bear an equal part of the contest, with Orestes. May you always seem to me fortunate!
Orestes First believe that the gods, Electra, are the leaders of our fortune, and then praise me as the servant of them and of fate. I come, having killed Aegisthus not in word but in deed; to add this proof to your knowledge, I am bringing you his corpse, which, if you wish, you may expose as prey for wild animals or impale and press it down on a stake as spoil for birds, the children of the air; for now he is your slave, once called your master.
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