SCENE THE THIRD.
ORESTES, ELECTRA, PYLADES and MELISANDER.
MELISANDER.
Princess of Argos, from your pious hand
This sacred charge your faithful slave receiv'd,
Which now, with joy that words but ill would paint,
He renders back to you and to his country.
ELECTRA.
What, Melisander, are the grateful thanks
That I can pay, to those thou shalt receive!
The tongues of millions will unite to bless thee!
A rescu'd people, with o'erflowing hearts,
Shall on their festivals, in choral strains,
Thy praises blend with those they give the Gods!
Yes, good old man, thy zeal and stedfast truth,
If the world's poor in bounties to reward,
Heav'n, that approves and can, will amply pay.
ORESTES.
My dear Electra, to this more than brother,
My Pylades, and to his gracious father,
My life's protector, and my crown's ally,
How vast our debt of kindness!
PYLADES.
Friendship claims,
Illust'rous princess, 'mongst more dear regards,
Some humble portion in the noble heart
Of Agamemnon's heir.
ELECTRA.
'Tis sure, Orestes,
The cause must prosper that we see sustain'd
By such associate virtues!—Gen'rous prince!
To own the call of royalty distrest,
And risk thy safety to redress the wrong'd.
