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Enter Electra from the house.
 My dearest friends, in a moment the men will do the deed. But wait in silence. Chorus
 How do they fare? What are they doing now? Electra
She is decking the urn for burial; the two of them stand close to her. Chorus
And why have you hurried out? Electra
To guard against Aegisthus entering before we are aware. Clytaemnestra
Oh! Oh! Our house  is empty of friends and filled with murderers! Electra
Someone shouts inside. Do you not hear, friends? Chorus
I heard, ah, me, sounds unfit to be heard, and I shudder! Clytaemnestra
Ah, misery! Aegisthus, where, where are you? Electra
 Look, once more someone cries out! Clytaemnestra
My son, my son, have pity on your mother! Electra
Why? You had none for him, nor for the father that begot him. Chorus
Wretched city, wretched race, now the fate that has held you day by day perishes—it perishes! Clytaemnestra
 Oh, I am wounded! Electra
Stab her doubly, if you can! Clytaemnestra
Ah, wounded again! Electra
Would that Aegisthus, too, were wounded! Chorus
The curses bring fulfillment: those who are buried live.  For men long dead are draining their killers' blood in a stream of requital.
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