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The Chorus of Argive Country-Women enter. Chorus O Electra, daughter of Agamemnon, I have come to your rustic courtyard. A milk-drinker from Mycenae has come, he has come, a mountain walker; he reports that the Argives are proclaiming a sacrifice for the third day from now, and that all maidens are to go to Hera's temple. Electra My unhappy heart beats fast, friends, but not at adornment or gold; nor will I set up choruses with the maidens of Argos and beat my foot in the mazes of the dance. By tears I pass the night; tears are my unhappy care day by day. See if my filthy hair, and the rags of my dress, will be fit for a princess, a daughter of Agamemnon, or for Troy, once taken, which remembers my father.
Electra Hasten your step, it is time; go onward, onward, weeping. Ah me! In what city and what household do you wander about, my wretched brother, leaving your pitiable sister in our ancestral home, to great pain? Come to me, the unhappy one, as a deliverer from this pain, oh Zeus, Zeus, and as a defender for my father against his most hateful bloodshed; bring the wanderer to shore in Argos.
As Orestes withdraws into the hut, Clytemnestra enters in a chariot. Her attendants are hand-maidens attired in gorgeous apparel. Chorus Hail, Queen of the land of Argos, child of Tyndareus, and sister of those two noble sons of Zeus who dwell in the fiery heavens among the stars, whose honored office it is to save mortals in the high waves. Welcome, I give you worship equal to the blessed gods for your wealth and great prosperity. Now is the time to pay our court to your fortunes. Welcome, o queen.