Page:Sophocles (Storr 1912) v1.djvu/317

 A moment later, and we saw him bend

In prayer to Earth and prayer to Heaven at once.

But by what doom the stranger met his end

No man save Theseus knoweth. For there fell

No fiery bolt that reft him in that hour,

Nor whirlwind from the sea, but he was taken.

It was a messenger from heaven, or else

Some gentle, painless cleaving of earth’s base;

For without wailing or disease or pain

He passed away—an end most marvellous.

And if to some my tale seems foolishness

I am content that such could count me fool.

Where are the maids and their attendant friends?

They cannot be far off; the approaching sound

Of lamentation tells they come this way.

Enter and.

Woe, woe! on this sad day

We sisters of one blasted stock

Must bow beneath the shock,

Must weep and weep the curse that lay

On hirn our sire, for whom

In life, a life-long world of care

’Twas ours to bear,

In death must face the gloom

That wraps his tomb.

What tongue can tell

That sight ineffable?

What mean ye, maidens? 295