Orestes (1611b-1635)

Not to kill us; entreat the city.

Or you will slay my child?

That is correct.

O wretched Helen—

Am I not wretched?

I brought you back from Troy to be a victim—

If only she had been!

After innumerable troubles.

Except where I was concerned.

I have suffered dreadfully!

Yes, for you would not help me then.

You have me there.

Your own cowardice has you. Calling from the roof to Electra Fire the palace from beneath, Electra; and, Pylades, my most trusty friend,

kindle the parapet of these walls. The palace is seen to be ablaze.

O Danaid earth! Dwellers in Argos, city of horses, put on your armor and come to help! For this fellow is forcing his life from your whole city, though he has caused pollution by shedding his mother’s blood.

Appearing in the clouds. Menelaus, calm your anger that has been whetted; I am Phoebus, the son of Leto, drawing near to call you by name. And you also, Orestes, who are keeping guard on the girl, sword in hand, so that you may hear what I have come to say. Helen, whom all your eagerness

failed to destroy, when you were seeking to anger Menelaus, is here as you see in the enfolding air, rescued from death and not slain by you. I saved her and snatched her from beneath your sword at the bidding of father Zeus,

for she, his child, must be immortal, and take her seat with Castor and Polydeuces in the enfolding air, a savior to mariners. Choose another bride and take her to your home; for the gods by that one’s loveliness