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Orestes Ah, Phoebus! you proclaimed in song unclear justice, but you have brought about clear woes, and granted me a bloody destiny far from the land of Hellas. To what other city can I go? What host, what pious man will look at me, who killed my mother? Electra Ah me! Where can I go, to what dance, to what marriage? What husband will receive me into the bridal bed? Chorus Again, again your thought changes with the breeze; for now you think piously, though you did not before, and you did dreadful things, my dear, to your unwilling brother.
Chorus The Nereids, leaving Euboea's headlands, brought from Hephaestus' anvil his shield-work of golden armor, up to Pelion and the glens at the foot of holy Ossa, the Nymphs' watch-tower . . . where his father, the horseman, was training the son of Thetis as a light for Hellas, sea-born, swift-footed for the sons of Atreus.