Page:Sophocles (Storr 1912) v1.djvu/251



Command your minions; I am not your slave.

Desist, I bid thee.

And I bid thee march!

Ah, woe is me, they drag me hence, O friends.

Where art thou, daughter?

Haled along by force.

Thy hands, my child!

They will not let me, father.

Away with her!

Ah woe is me, ah woe!

So those two crutches shall no longer serve thee

For further roaming. Since it pleaseth thee

To triumph o’er thy country and thy friends

Whose mandate, though a prince, I here discharge.

Enjoy thy triumph; soon or late thou’lt find 229