Menelaus.
Hapless! Misfortune's deepest depth thou hast reached!
Orestes.
In thee mine hope hath refuge yet from ills.
Thou com'st to folk in misery, prosperous thou:
Give thy friends share of thy prosperity,450
And not for self keep back thine happiness,
But bear a part in suffering in thy turn:
Requite, to whom thou ow'st, my father's boon.
The name of friendship have they, not the truth,
The friends that in misfortune are not friends.450
Chorus.
Lo, hither straineth on with agèd feet
The Spartan Tyndareus, in vesture black,
His hair, in mourning for his daughter, shorn.
Orestes.
Undone, Menelaus!—hither Tyndareus
Draws nigh me, whose eye most of all I shun460
To meet, by reason of the deed I wrought.
He fostered me a babe, and many a kiss
Lavished upon me, dandling in his arms
Agamemnon's son, with Leda at his side,
No less than those Twin Brethren honouring me:465
To whom[1]—O wretched heart and soul of mine!—
I have rendered foul return! What veil of gloom
Can I take for my face?—before me spread
What cloud, to shun the old man's searching eye?
- ↑ i.e. To Tyndareus and Leda.
