Page:Tragedies of Sophocles (Jebb 1917).djvu/199

338—363] be grieving for the distempers which lately vexed him, when he sees their work.

. O my son, my son!

. Ah me! Eurysaces, 'tis for thee he calls! What can be his purpose? Where art thou? Unhappy that I am!

. Ho, Teucer! Where is Teucer? Will his foray last for [sic]ever? And I perish!

. He seems to be sane. Come, open there! open—perchance e'en at the sight of me he may come to a more sober mood.

. Behold, I open: thou canst look on yon man's deeds, and his own plight.

. Alas, good sailors, alone of my friends, alone still constant to your loyalty, behold what a wave hath but now surged around me and hemmed me in, under stress of a deadly storm!

. Ah, lady, how sadly true seems thy report! The fact proves that no sane mind is here.

. Alas, ye mates staunch in sea-craft, ye who manned the ship and made the oar-blade flash upon the brine,—in you, in you alone I see a defence against misery: come, slay me also!

. Hush thy wild lips: cure not ill by ill, nor increase the anguish of the doom.