Page:Four Plays of Aeschylus (Cookson).djvu/158

146 Took that by right of his prerogative:

And there he fitly stayed the Laian rage.

Is not the measure of her mourning full?

And must this stricken realm find room for more?

The realm is safe: but, for her princely seed—

I dread so much the thing thou hast to say

I scarce attend thee; what dost thou mean? Speak on!

If thou hast power to listen, mark my words.

The Sons of Œdipus—

Oh, Misery!

They say prophets of evil utter truth,

And I am of them!

Indistinguishably

They have gone down into the dust.

So far

Fallen! Thy tale is heaviness; nevertheless

Tell it to the end!

I tell thee they are dead:

They slew each other!

Ah, fraternal hands!

Too near were ye in birth, too near in blood.