Lines 398-426
Orestes: Sweet Earth, how long? - great lords of d**h, look on,
you mighty curses of the dead. Look on
the last of Atreus' children, here, the remnant helpless, cast from home... god, where to turn?
Leader: And again my pulses race and leap, I can feel your sobs, and hope
becomes despair
and the heart goes dark to hear you -then the anguish ebbs, I see you stronger, hope and the
light come on me.
electra:
What hope? - what force to summon, what can help?
What but the pain we suffer, bred by her?
So let her fawn. She can never soothe her young wolves -
Mother dear, you bred our wolves' raw fury.
LEADER AND CHORUS:
I beat and beat the dirge like a Persian mourner, hands clenched tight and the blows are
coming thick and fast, you can see the hands shoot out,
now hand over hand and down - the head pulsates, blood at the temples pounding to
explode!
electra:
Reckless, brutal mother - oh dear god! -
The brutal, cruel cortege, the warlord stripped of his honour guard
and stripped of mourning rites -you dared entomb your lord unwept, unsung.
Orestes: Shamed for all the world, you mean -dear god, my father degraded so!
Oh she'll pay,
she'll pay, by the gods and these bare hands -just let me take her life and die!