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Pour forth your tears, splashing as they fall for our fallen lord, to accompany this protection against evil, this charm for the good [155] against the loathsome pollution. Hear me, oh hear me, my honored lord, out of the darkness of your spirit.1

Woe, woe, woe! Oh for a man mighty with the spear to deliver our house, [160] an Ares, brandishing in the fight the springing Scythian bow and wielding his hilted sword in close combat.As they conclude, Electra discovers the lock of Orestes' hair

1 Or ἀμαυρᾶς may mean “feeble,” “helpless,” to contrast the spirit of the dead with that of the living. But cp. 323.

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