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Updated: June 25, 2025
It was the bounden duty of a son to be the avenger of his father’s blood, and after eight years, as soon as Orestes was a grown warrior, he went with his friend in secret to Mycenæ, and offered a lock of his hair on his father’s tomb. Electra, coming out with her offerings, found these tokens, and knew that he was near.
And now this day I am quit of this fear that wasted my very life." Then the Queen and the false messenger went into the palace; and when they were gone Electra cried, saying, "See here, forsooth, a mother that weepeth and mourneth for her son! O my Orestes, how utterly hast thou undone me! For now all the hope I had is gone that thou wouldst come and avenge my father.
They went upstairs together; and as Electra unlocked and bent over a large square trunk, her companion noticed a peculiar curl about the lines of the mouth, and a heavy scowl on the broad brow. "I want to show you the only bright, shining face I ever painted." She unwrapped an oval portrait, placed it on the mantelpiece, and, stepping back, fixed her gaze on Irene.
The fierce Electra cuts him short, and Orestes, with stern solemnity, conducts him from the stage to the spot on which Aegisthus had slain Agamemnon, so that the murderer might die by the son's hand in the place where the father fell.
Clytemnestra is now seen approaching; Orestes begins to have scruples of conscience as to his purpose of murdering a mother, and the authority of the oracle, but yields to the persuasions of Electra, and agrees to do the deed within the house.
Then he remembered that fine scene in the Orestes of Euripides, which he had essayed to represent in a picture that, if he could have finished it, would have been his masterpiece the scene where the unhappy Electra wipes away the spume that sullies her brother's lips.
"And did the King leave any other child behind him?" "One daughter, Electra by name." "And is his son yet alive?" "He is alive, but no man more miserable."
But the princess Electra, suspecting their plot, secretly hurried her brother away to the court of King Strophius in Phocis, and so saved his life. She was not, however, to save a second victim. The ten years of war went by, and the chief, Agamemnon, came home in triumph, heralded by all the Argives, who were as exultant over the return of their lawful king as over the fall of Troy.
The greedy lungs of fifty hot-blooded boys suck the oxygen from the air he breathes in his recitation-room. In short, he undergoes a process of gentle and gradual starvation. The mother of little Iris was not called Electra, like hers of the old story, neither was her grandfather Oceanus.
The other five messengers of light now waited upon them, and each person was supplied with just the food she liked best. Polychrome found her dish of dewdrops, all fresh and sparkling, while Betsy was so lavishly served that she decided she had never in her life eaten a dinner half so good. "I s'pose," she said to the Queen, "that Miss Electra is the youngest of all these girls."
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