Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1898) v3.djvu/501

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What then, Odysseus, shall we do? The man

We find not on his couch: our hopes are foiled.

Return we to the ships' array in haste.

Some God, whoever giveth him good speed,

Shields him. 'Tis not for us to strive with fate.

Nay, on Aeneas fall we, or on Paris—

Of foes most hated,—and smite off their heads.

How in the dark, amidst a host of foes,

Unperilled wilt thou search, and slay these twain?

Yet base it were to hie to Argos' ships

With nought of mischief to the foe achieved.

Nothing achieved? Have we not slain the spy

Upon the galleys, Dolon? Have we not

His spoils? Look'st thou to ravage all their camp?

Hear me—return we; so good speed be ours.

Athena appears above the stage.

Ho! whither go ye, from the lines of Troy

Fleeing, with sorrow rankling in your hearts