Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1898) v3.djvu/510

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What men?—say who!

They that this night to the Phrygian array won through.

Cry of Charioteer behind the scenes.

''O heavy chance of fate! Woe's me! Woe's me!''

Ha! Now hush ye all! Crouch low! Perchance one cometh to the snare.

O the sore mischance to Thrace!

'Tis some ally that waileth there.

Enter Charioteer, wounded.

Woe's me! O King of Thracians, woe for thee!

O bitter sight of Troy to thee this day!

What end of life hath snatched thee hence away!

Who art thou?—what ally?—mine eyes the night

Makes dim: thee cannot I discern aright.