Crosseth our darkness.

OLD MAN.

'Twas a feast, methought,
Of worship to the wild-wood nymphs he wrought.

ORESTES.

The watchers of men's birth? Is there a son
New born to him, or doth he pray for one
That cometh? [_Movement of_ ELECTRA.

OLD MAN.

More I know not; he had there
A wreathed ox, as for some weighty prayer.

ORESTES.

What force was with him? Not his serfs alone?

OLD MAN.

No Argive lord was there; none but his own
Household.

ORESTES.

Not any that aught know my face,