Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1898) v3.djvu/168

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Nay, thy weakness I will tend.

Loathly task to touch the sick!

Ah, not to me for thee, O friend.

Yet beware the taint of this my madness.

Base misgivings, hence!

Can it be thou wilt not shrink?

For friends to shrink were foul offence.

On then, pilot of my footsteps.

Sweet is this my loving care.

Even to my father's grave-mound guide me on.

What wouldst thou there?