Page:Sophocles (Storr 1919) v2.djvu/199



Not so; such entertainment would reflect

On me and on thy master, my ally.

Be pleased to enter; leave this girl without

To wail her friends’ misfortunes and her own.

[Exeunt and.

Seemed she to you a mother woe-begone,

Weeping and wailing for a son thus slain,

This miserable woman? No, she left us

With mocking laughter. Dearest brother mine,

Thy death was my death warrant. Woe is me!

With thee has gone my last fond hope, that thou

Wast living yet and wouldst return some day

To avenge my sire and me, unhappy me.

Now whither shall I turn, alone, bereft

Of thee and of my sire? Henceforth again

Must I be slave to those I most abhor,

My father’s murderers. Is it not well with me?

No, never will I cross their threshold more,

But at these gates will lay me down to die,

There pine away. If any in the house

Think me an eyesore, let him slay me; life

To me were misery and death a boon.

Where, O Zeus, are thy bolts, O Sun-god, where is thy ray,

If with thy lightning, thy light, these things be not shewn to the day?

Ah me! Ah me! 187