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How is he? You give us an account, my dear; what has happened, what misfortune? Electra
 He is still breathing, but his moans grow feeble. Chorus
What are you saying? Unhappy Orestes! Electra
You will kill him, if you disturb him from the sweet sleep he now enjoys. Chorus
 Poor sufferer, for his hateful deeds, inspired by a god! Electra
Ah, misery! Injustice it was, after all, from an unjust mouth, when Loxias on the tripod of Themis  decreed my mother's most unnatural murder.