Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1894) v1.djvu/30

2 Her weird it is to die and part from life.

I, lest pollution taint me in their house,

Go forth of yonder hall’s belovèd roof.

Lo, yonder Death!—I see him nigh at hand,

Priest of the dead, who comes to hale her down

To Hades’ halls—well hath he kept his time,

Watching this day, whereon she needs must die.

Ha, thou at the palace!—Wilt not make room,

Phœbus?—thou wrestest the right yet again.

Thou removest the landmarks of Gods of Gloom.

And thou makest their honours vain.

Did this not suffice thee, to thwart that doom

Of Admetus, when, all by thy cunning beguiled

Were the Fates, that thou now must be warding the wife

With thine hand made ready the bowstring to strain,

Though she pledged her from death to redeem with her life

Her lord,—she, Pelias’ child?

Fear not: fair words and justice are with me.

Justice with thee!—what needeth then the bow?

This?—’tis my wont to bear it evermore.

Yea, and to aid yon house in lawless wise.