Page:Sophocles - Seven Plays, 1900.djvu/207

1494–1510]

. Command not!

Enter, and in the place where ye cut down

My father, thou shalt yield thy life to me.

. Is there no help but this abode must see

The past and future ills of Pelops’ race?

. Thine anyhow. That I can prophesy

With perfect inspiration to thine ear.

. The skill you boast belonged not to your sire.

. You question and delay. Go in!

. Lead on.

. Nay, go thou first.

. That I may not escape thee?

. No, that thou may’st not have thy wish in death.

I may not stint one drop of bitterness.

And would this doom were given without reprieve,

If any try to act beyond the law,

To kill them. Then the wicked would be few.

. O seed of Atreus! how triumphantly

Through grief and hardness thou hast freedom found,

With full achievement in this onset crowned!