Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1898) v3.djvu/252

224

Within the fane be men whose part is this.

And what tomb shall receive me, being dead?

A wide rock-rift within, and holy fire.

Would that a sister's hand might lay me out!

Vain prayer, unhappy, whosoe'er thou be,

Thou prayest. Far she dwells from this wild land.

Yet, forasmuch as thou an Argive art,

Of all I can, no service will I spare.

Much ornament will I lay on thy grave:

With golden oil thine ashes will I quench;

The tawny hill-bee's amber-lucent dews,

That well from flowers, I'll shed upon thy pyre.

I go, the letter from the Goddess' shrine

To bring. Ah, think not bitterly of me!

Ward them, ye guards, but with no manacles.

Perchance to a friend in Argos shall I send

Tidings unhoped—the friend whom most I love:—

The letter, telling that she lives whom dead

He deems, shall seal the happy tidings' faith.

[Exit.