Page:Tragedies of Sophocles (Plumptre 1878).djvu/314

216 But now that he is gone I look to thee,

That thou flinch not, with me thy sister here,

From slaying him, Ægisthos, whose hand wrought

Our father's murder; for I may not hide

Aught of my mind from thee. How long, how long

Dost thou wait dully, looking to what hope

As yet remaining, when for thee is nought

But grief, as robbed of all thy father's wealth,

And sorrow that thou waxest old till now,

Without or marriage-bed or marriage-song?

And cherish thou no hope that thou shalt gain

Or this or that. Ægisthos is not blind,

To let our progeny, or mine or thine,

Spring up or grow, to be his certain harm.

But, if thou wilt to my advice give heed,

First, thou shalt gain the praise of reverence due

Both from our father, who now sleeps below,

And from our brother; next, thou shalt be called,

As thou wast born, free, noble, and shalt gain

Befitting marriage. All men love to look

On deeds of goodness. Dost not see full clear

All the fair fame thou 'lt gain for thee and me,

If thou obey my counsels? Who, seeing us,

Or citizen or stranger, will not greet us

With praises such as these? "Behold, my friends,

Those sisters twain, who saved their father's house,

And on their foes who walked in pride of strength,

Regardless of their lives, wrought doom of death!

These all must love, these all must reverence;

These in our feasts, and when the city meets

In full assemblage, all should honour well,

For this their manly prowess." Thus will all

Speak of us, so that fame we shall not miss,

Living or dying. Do but hear me, dear one.