Page:Tragedies of Sophocles (Plumptre 1878).djvu/271

Rh This day the dreariest way of all my life?

My son's voice greets me. Go, my servants, go,

Quickly draw near, and standing by the tomb,

Search ye and see; and where the stone torn out

Shall make an opening, look ye in, and say

If I hear Hæmon's voice, or if my soul

Is cheated by the Gods." And then we searched,

As he, our master, in his frenzy bade us;

And, in the furthest corner of the vault,

We saw her hanging by her neck, with cord

Of linen threads entwined, and him we found

Clasping her form in passionate embrace,

And mourning o'er the doom that robbed him of her,

His father's deed, and that his marriage bed,

So full of woe. When Creon saw him there,

Groaning aloud in bitterness of heart,

He goes to him, and calls in wailing voice,

"Poor boy! what hast thou done? Hast thou then lost

Thy reason? In what evil sinkest thou?

Come forth, my child, on bended knee I ask thee."

And then the boy, with fierce, wild-gleaming eyes,

Glared at him, spat upon his face, and draws,

Still answering nought, the sharp two-handled sword.

Missing his aim, (his father from the blow

Turning aside,) in anger with himself,

The poor ill-doomed one, even as he was,

Fell on his sword, and drove it through his breast,

Full half its length, and clasping, yet alive.

The maiden's arm, still soft, he there breathes out

In broken gasps, upon her fair white cheek,

Swift stream of bloody shower. So they lie,

Dead bridegroom with dead bride, and he has gained,

Poor boy, his marriage rites in Hades' home,