Page:Sophocles - Seven Plays, 1900.djvu/104

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. Hush! that was Teucer’s cry. Methought I heard

His voice salute this object of dire woe.

. Aias, dear brother, comfort of mine eye,

Hast thou then done even as the rumour holds?

. Be sure of that, Teucer. He lives no more.

. Oh, then how heavy is the lot I bear!

. Yes, thou hast cause—

. O rash assault of woe!—

. To mourn full loud.

. Ay me! and where, oh where

On Trojan earth, tell me, is this man's child?

. Beside the huts, untended.

. (to ). Oh, with haste

Go bring him hither, lest some enemy’s hand

Snatch him, as from the lion’s widowed mate

The lion-whelp is taken. Spare not speed.

All soon combine in mockery o’er the dead.

[Exit

. Even such commands he left thee ere he died.

As thou fulfillest by this timely care.

. O sorest spectacle mine eyes e’er saw!

Woe for my journey hither, of all ways

Most grievous to my heart, since I was ware,

Dear Aias, of thy doom, and sadly tracked

Thy footsteps. For there darted through the host,

As from some God, a swift report of thee

That thou wert lost in death. I, hapless, heard,

And mourned even then for that whose presence kills me.

Ay me! But come,

Unveil. Let me behold my misery.

O sight unbearable! Cruelly brave!

Dying, what store of griefs thou sow’st for me!

Where, amongst whom of mortals, can I go,

That stood not near thee in thy troublous horn?

Will Telamon, my sire and thine, receive me

With radiant countenance and favouring brow