Thou too shalt taste,[n38] and not dishonoured lie,
When savoury fumes mount to our country’s dead.
Electra.
And I my whole of heritage will offer,
The blithe libations of my marriage feast.
Thy tomb before all tombs I will revere.
Orestes.
O Earth, relax thy hold, and give my father
To see the fight!
Electra.