Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1894) v1.djvu/65

Rh

This taunt strikes thee—'tis thou wast loth to die.

Sweet is yon sun-god's light, yea, it is sweet.

Base is thy spirit, and unmeet for men.

No agèd corpse thou bearest, inly laughing!

Yet shalt thou die in ill fame, when thou diest.

Nought reck I of ill-speaking o'er my grave.

Ah me! how full of shamelessness is eld!

Not shameless she,—but senseless hast thou found her.

Begone: leave me to bury this my dead

I go: her murderer will bury her.

Thou shalt yet answer for it to her kin.

Surely Akastus is no more a man,

If he of thee claim not his sister's blood.