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Hail, prophetic Loxias, for your oracles! You were not a lying prophet after all, but a true seer; and yet I was afraid that it was some fiend I had listened to, when I seemed to hear your voice; [1670] but all is ending well, and I obey your word. There! I release Hermione from slaughter and agree to make her my wife whenever her father gives her.

All hail, Helen, daughter of Zeus! I wish you joy of your home in heaven's happy courts. [1675] To you, Orestes, I betroth my daughter, as Phoebus said; being noble yourself, may you have benefit from a noble wife, and may I also, in giving her to you.

Go now each one to the place appointed by me; reconcile your quarrels.

I must obey.

[1680] And so must I; I make a truce with my fate, Menelaus, and with your oracles, Loxias.

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