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THE BOOK WAS DRENCHED - OUDL Home

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542 Sophocles [1335-1353]<br />

long discourse, these insatiate cries of joy, and pass within; for in such<br />

deeds delay is evil, and 'tis well to make an end.<br />

ORESTES<br />

What, then, will be my prospects when I enter?<br />

PAEDAGOGUS<br />

Good; for thou art secured from recognition.<br />

ORESTES<br />

Thou hast reported me, I presume, as dead?<br />

PAEDAGOGUS<br />

Know that here thou art numbered with the shades.<br />

ORESTES<br />

Do they rejoice, then, at these tidings? Or what say they?<br />

PAEDAGOGUS<br />

I will tell thee at the end; meanwhile, all is well for us on their part,—<br />

even that which is not well.<br />

ELECTRA<br />

Who is this, brother? I pray thee, tell me.<br />

Dost thou not perceive?<br />

I cannot guess.<br />

ORESTES<br />

ELECTRA<br />

ORESTES<br />

Knowest thou not the man to whose hands thou gavest me once?<br />

ELECTRA<br />

What man? How sayest thou?<br />

ORESTES<br />

By whose hands, through thy forethought, I was secretly conveyed<br />

forth to Phocian soil.<br />

ELECTRA<br />

Is this he in whom, alone of many, I found a true ally of old, when our<br />

sire was slain?<br />

ORESTES<br />

Tis he; question me no further.

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