before he can even say Of what land is this stranger? I will skewer him with my swift sword and lay him dead. The fury that has no fill of slaughter shall for her third and crowning drink drink unmixed blood!
 Now you, Electra, keep strict watch over what happens inside the house, so that our plans may fit together well. You addressing the Chorus had best keep a discreet tongue: be silent when there is need and speak only what the occasion demands. As for the rest, I call on him Apollo, his champion (lines 269, 558), whose statue stood before the palace (cp. Aesch. Ag. 513 ). to cast his glance this way and direct the contest of the sword for me. Exeunt Orestes, Pylades, and Electra 
 
 Chorus Many are the horrors, dread and appalling, bred of earth, and the arms of the deep teem with hateful monsters. Likewise between heaven and earth lights Meteors. hung high in the air draw near; and winged things and things that walk the earth can also tell of the stormy wrath of whirlwinds.
 Chorus But who can tell of man’s overweening spirit, and of the reckless passions of women hardened of soul, partners of the woes of mortals? Inordinate passion, overmastering the female, gains a fatal victory over the wedded unions of beasts and humans alike. Chorus Let whoever is not flighty in his wits know this, when he has learned of the device of a lit brand contrived by Thestius’ heartless daughter: When Meleager, the child of Althaea, who was daughter of Thestius, king of Aetolia , and wife to Oeneus of Calydon, was a week old, the Fates appeared to the mother and declared that he would die when the brand on the hearth was consumed. Whereupon Althaea took the brand and put it in a chest; but when Meleager, grown to youthful manhood, slew her brothers, she threw it into the fire, and her son died suddenly. she destroyed her own child by burning the charred brand of the same age as he when, coming from his mother’s womb, he cried out, and it aged in pace with him through his life to the day decreed by fate.
 Chorus And there is in legend another murderous virgin to be loathed, Nisus was besieged in his town of Megara by Minos, king of Crete . Nisus’ daughter Scylla, being in love with Minos, cut from the head of her father the purple hair on which his life depended, so that he was slain by the Cretans. who ruined a loved one at the bidding of his foes, when, lured by Minos’ gift, the Cretan necklace forged of gold, she with her dog’s heart despoiled Nisus of his immortal lock as he drew breath in unsuspecting sleep. And Hermes Hermes, the conductor to Hades of the souls of the dead. overtook him.
 Chorus But since I have recalled tales of pitiless afflictions, it is the right time to tell of a marriage void of love, an abomination to the house, and the plots devised by a wife’s cunning against her warrior lord, against her lord revered with reason by his foes. But I honor the hearths of homes not heated by passion’s fires, and in woman a spirit that shrinks from audacious deeds. Chorus Indeed the Lemnian The women of Lemnos , jealous of Thracian slaves, killed their husbands, so that when the Argonauts visited the island they found no men. holds first place among evils in story: it has long been told with groans as an abominable calamity. Men compare each new horror to Lemnian troubles; and because of a woeful deed abhorred by the gods a race has disappeared, cast out in infamy from among mortals. For no man reveres what is hated by the gods. Is there one of these tales I have gathered that I do not justly cite?
 Chorus But the keen and bitter sword is near the breast and drives home its blow at the bidding of Justice. For truly the injustice of him who has unjustly transgressed the sovereign majesty of Zeus lies on the ground trampled under foot. The translation is based on the reading παρεκβάντος (Stanley); but this and all other alterations do not remove the difficulties of the original. 
 Chorus The anvil of Justice is planted firm. Destiny fashions her arms and forges her sword quickly, and the famed and deeply brooding Fury is bringing the son into our house, to requite at last the pollution of blood shed long ago.
 Enter, with attendants, Orestes and Pylades before the palace Orestes Boy! Boy! Hear my knocking at the outer door! Who is inside? Boy! Boy! I say again, who is at home? Again for the third time I call for some one to come out of the house, if by Aegisthus’ will it offers welcome to strangers.
 Servant Yes, yes, I hear. Of what land is the stranger, and whence?
 Orestes Announce me to the masters of the house, for it is in fact to them that I come bearing news. And hurry, since the chariot of night is speeding on with darkness, and it is time for wayfarers to drop anchor in some house friendly to all guests. Tell some one to come forth who has authority over the house, the mistress in charge. But the master would be more fitting, for then no delicacy in speaking makes words obscure: man speaks boldly to man and reveals his meaning without reserve. The Servant withdraws. Clytaemestra appears at the door with a maid-servant in attendance 
 
 Clytaemestra Strangers, you have only to declare your need, for we have everything that suits this house: warm baths, beds to charm away fatigue,