THE BOOK WAS DRENCHED - OUDL Home

236 Aeschylus [177-205]
LEADER
Then is this lock Orestes' secret gift?
ELECTRA
Most like it is unto the curls he wore.
LEADER
Yet how dared he to come unto his home?
ELECTRA
He hath but sent it, dipt to mourn his sire.
LEADER
It is a sorrow grievous as his death,
That he should live yet never dare return.
ELECTRA
Yea, and my heart o'er flows with gall of grief,
And I am pierced as with a cleaving dart;
Like to the first drops after drought, my tears
Fall down at will, a bitter bursting tide,
As on this lock I gaze; I cannot deem
That any Argive save Orestes' self
Was ever lord thereof; nor, well I wot,
Hath she, the murd'ress, shorn and laid this lock
To mourn him whom she slew—my mother she,
Bearing no mother's heart, but to her race
A loathing spirit, loathed itself of heaven!
Yet to affirm, as utterly made sure,
That this adornment cometh of the hand
Of mine Orestes, brother of my soul,
I may not venture, yet hope flatters fair!
Ah well-a-day, that this dumb hair had voice
To glad mine ears, as might a messenger,
Bidding me sway no more 'twixt fear and hope,
Clearly commanding, Cast me hence away.
Clipped was I from some head thou lovest not;
Or, ." am kin to thee, and here, as thou,
I come to weep and deck our father's grave.
Aid me, ye gods! for well indeed ye know
How in the gale and counter-gale of doubt,
Like to the seaman's bark, we whirl and stray.
But, if God will our life, how strong shall spring,
From seed how small, the new tree of our home!—
Lo ye, a second sign—these footsteps, look,—