Page:Medea (Webster 1868).djvu/81

 By the fine-webbed robes was caught; and fearful grew

The struggle. He sought on his knees to rise:

She held him back. And if by force he rose

He tore the aged flesh from off his bones.

And then at length the evil-fated man

Ceased and gave up the ghost, able no more

To cope with that great anguish. And they lie,

Father and daughter, corpses side by side:

A sight of sorrow that appeals for tears.

And truly let thy fortunes be apart

From reasonings of mine: for thou thyself

Wilt know a shelter from the retribution.

But not now first I count the lot of man

A passing shadow: and I might say those

Of mortals who are very seeming wise

And fret themselves with learnings, those are they

Who make them guilty of the chiefest folly;

But no one mortal is a happy man,

Though, riches flooding in, more prosperous

One than another grow; yet none is happy.