For Argos, thus accosted me (his name,
I learned, was Strophius the Phocian): Stranger,
If Argos be thy purpose, bear this message
From me to whom it touches near. Orestes
Is dead; charge well thy memory with the tale,
And bring me mandate back, if so his friends
Would have him carried to his native home,
Or he with us due sepulture shall find,
A sojourner for ever. A brazen urn
Holds all the remnant of the much-wept man,