Orestes.
Agamemnon's son and Klytemnestra's I,
My name Orestes: to Zeus' oracle 885
Bound, at Dodona. Seeing I am come
To Phthia, good it seems that I enquire
Of my kinswoman, if she lives and thrives,
Hermionê of Sparta. Though she dwell
In a far land from us, she is all as dear. 890
Hermione.
O haven in a storm by shipmen seen,
Agamemnon's son, by these thy knees I pray,
Pity me of whose lot thou questionest,
Afflicted me! With arms, as suppliant wreaths
Strong to constrain, I clasp thy very knees. 895
Orestes.
What ails thee? Have I erred, or see I clear
Menelaus' daughter here, this household's queen?
Hermione.
Yea, the one daughter Helen Tyndareus' child
Bare in his halls unto my sire: doubt not.
Orestes.
O Healer Phœbus, grant from woes release! 900
What ails thee? Art thou wronged of Gods or men?
Hermione.
Of myself partly, partly of my lord,
In part of some God: ruin is everywhere!
