Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1898) v3.djvu/179

Rh

Ah, by the Gods, I pray, unman me not,

Nor bring to tears by mention of our woes.

We die! I cannot but bemoan our fate.

All mortals grieve for precious life foregone.

This is our day of doom: the noose must coil

About our necks, or our hands grasp the sword.

Brother, thou slay me, that no Argive slay,

With outrage foul to Agamemnon's child.

Suffice the mother's blood: I will not slay thee.

Die in what wise thou wilt by thine own hand.

O yea: I will not lag behind thy sword.

But oh to lay mine arms about thy neck!

Enjoy that vain delight, if joy it be

For those that stand at death's door to embrace.

Dearest, who bear'st a name desirable

And sweet on sister's lips!—one soul with mine!