Page:Tragedies of Sophocles (Plumptre 1878).djvu/292

194 Who said'st but now, that, had'st thou strength enough,

Thou would'st make plain the hate thou hast for them;

And yet when I am working to avenge

Thy father, wilt not join me, and would'st fain

Turn me aside from action. Is there not

In this, besides all else, a coward's heart?

Tell me (yea, hear) what profit should I have

Were I to cease from tears? Do I not live?

In evil case I own, and yet for me

Enough; and these I vex, and so I give

Due honour to the dead,—if they can be

Or pleased or thankful. Thou, with that thy hate,

Hatest in words, and yet in act dost live

In friendship with thy father's murderers.

Never would I, no, not though one should bring

To me the gifts which thou rejoicest in,

Give way to them. No! Let thy board be spread

With dainties rich, and let thy life be full;

My only food be this, to spare myself

What most would pain. I covet not thy place,

Nor, wert thou wise, would'st thou. But, as it is,

When thou might'st be the child of noblest father,

Choose to be called thy mother's. Thus shalt thou

To most men seem contemptible and base,

Forsaking thy dead father and thy friends.

Chor. By all the Gods, I pray thee, cease from wrath;

In both your words, some profit may be found,

If thou from her would'st learn, and she from thee.

Chrys. I, Ο my friends, am somewhat used to hear

Her words; nor had I now recurred to them,

But that I heard of evil drawing near,

Which soon shall stop her long protracted wails.

Elec. Tell then this dreadful evil. Hast thou aught

To tell me more than what I suffer now,