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Monologue

Electra Monologue

From Electra by Euripides

female · anguished · 51 sec

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Not unto joy, nor sweet Music, nor shining of gold, The wings of my spirit beat. Let the brides of Argos hold Their dance in the night, as of old; I lead no dance; I mark No beat as the dancers sway; With tears I dwell in the dark, And my thought is of tears alway, To the going down of the day. Look on my wasted hair And raiment.... This that I bear, Is it meet for the King my sire, And her whom the King begot? For Troy, that was burned with fire And forgetteth not?

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