Your work begins at once; you have drawn the first lot in the slaughter.OrestesI would go, if some one would show me the way.Old manYes, I can escort you myself, not against my will.OrestesO Zeus, god of my fathers, be also the vanquisher of my enemies—ElectraAnd have pity on us; for we have suffered pitiably—Old manYes, indeed, have pity on your own descendants.ElectraAnd Hera, you who rule Mycenae’s altars—OrestesGive us victory, if we are asking for what is right.Old manYes, indeed, give them the right of vengeance for their father.OrestesYou too, father, living below the earth through an unholy deed—ElectraAnd Lady Earth, to whom I give my hands—Old manDefend, defend these, your dearest children.OrestesNow come and bring with you all the dead as allies.ElectraThose who destroyed the Trojans in war with you—Old manAnd all who hate the unholy and polluted.ElectraDo you hear me, you who suffered dreadful things from my mother?Old manYour father hears everything, I know; but it is time to be on our way.ElectraAnd I tell you therefore that Aegisthus is to die; if you fall dead in the struggle, I am also dead, do not count me as alive; for I will strike my heart with a two-edged sword. I will go indoors and make things ready there.So that if a good report comes from you, the whole house will cry aloud in triumph; but, if you die, it will be the opposite of that. These are my words to you.OrestesI know it all.ElectraTherefore you must be a man. Exeunt Orestes, Pylades, and Old Man. And you, women, please take care to givea shout in signal of this contest. I will keep a sword ready, holding it in my hand, for I will not ever, if defeated, submit to my enemies the right to insult my body. Exit Electra.

ChorusThe story remains in old legendsthat Pan, the keeper of wild beasts, breathing sweet-voiced music on his well-joined pipes, once brought from its tender mother on Argive hillsa lamb with beautiful golden fleece. A herald stood on the stone platform and cried aloud, To assembly, Mycenaeans, go to assemblyto see the omens given to our blessed rulers. . . . and they honored the house of Atreus.

ChorusThe altars of beaten gold were set out; and through the town thealtar fires of the Argives blazed; the flute, handmaid of the Muse’s song, sounded its note sweetly, and lovely songs of the golden lamb swelled forth, saying that Thyestes had the luck; for hepersuaded Atreus’ own wife to secret love, and carried off to his house the portent; coming before the assembly he declared that he had in hishouse the horned sheep with fleece of gold.