Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1898) v3.djvu/95

Rh

Nought welcome. Follow me.

Whither, from maiden-bowers?

To the host.

I shrink from throngs!

Shamefastness cannot help thee!

I—what can I do?

Part thy brethren's strife.

Mother, whereby?

Fall at their feet with me.

Lead to the mid-space! We may tarry not.

Haste, daughter, haste : for, may I but forestall