ELECTRA.

That ground will take no footprint! All of it
Is bitter stone.... It hath?... And who hath said
There should be likeness in a brother's tread
And sister's? His is stronger every way.

OLD MAN.

But hast thou nothing...? If he came this day
And sought to show thee, is there no one sign
Whereby to know him?... Stay; the robe was thine,
Work of thy loom, wherein I wrapt him o'er
That night and stole him through the murderers' door.

ELECTRA.

Thou knowest, when Orestes was cast out
I was a child.... If I did weave some clout
Of raiment, would he keep the vesture now
He wore in childhood? Should my weaving grow
As his limbs grew?... 'Tis lost long since. No more!
O, either 'twas some stranger passed, and shore
His locks for very ruth before that tomb:
Or, if he found perchance, to seek his home,
Some spy...

OLD MAN.

The strangers! Where are they? I fain