Would see them, aye, and bid them answer plain...

ELECTRA.

Here at the door! How swift upon the thought!

_Enter_ ORESTES _and_ PYLADES.

OLD MAN.

High-born: albeit for that I trust them not.
The highest oft are false.... Howe'er it be,

[_Approaching them_.

I bid the strangers hail!

ORESTES.

All hail to thee,
Greybeard!--Prithee, what man of all the King
Trusted of old, is now this broken thing?

ELECTRA.

'Tis he that trained my father's boyhood.

ORESTES.

How?