Old Man Monologue from Electra

From Electra by Euripides

male · melancholic · 1:06 min

Where is my little Princess? Ah, not now; But still my queen, who tended long ago The lad that was her father.... How steep-set These last steps to her porch! But faint not yet: Onward, ye failing knees and back with pain Bowed, till we look on that dear face again. [_Enter_ ELECTRA. Ah, daughter, is it thou?--Lo, here I am, With gifts from all my store; this suckling lamb Fresh from the ewe, green crowns for joyfulness, And creamy things new-curdled from the press. And this long-storèd juice of vintages Forgotten, cased in fragrance: scant it is, But passing sweet to mingle nectar-wise With feebler wine.--Go, bear them in; mine eyes... Where is my cloak?--They are all blurred with tears.

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