Page:Tragedies of Sophocles (Plumptre 1878).djvu/362

264 And crumbles on the surface of the stone.

And that thou may'st the whole strange story know,

How this was done, I will unfold the tale;

For I, of all the monster Kentaur taught,

(His side sore smitten with the bitter dart,)

No precept left undone, but kept them all,

Like writing on a tablet-book of bronze,

Which nothing may wash out. And this command

Was given, and this I did, to keep the charm

Medicinal, untouched by fire, or sun,

In sheltered closet, till the hour should come

To use the fresh-spread unguent. Thus I did;

And now the time to act was come, I spread it,

Within the house, in secret, with a lock

Of fleecy wool from off mine own sheep cut;

And then I folded it, and placed it safe,

Untouched by sunlight, in a hollow chest,

The gift, as ye have seen. And now, within

Adventuring, I behold a marvel, strange

To tell, by human thought unfathomable;

For I, by chance, had flung the wisp of wool,

In full broad sunshine. Then as it grew hot

It melts away, and crumbles in the earth,

In look most like to saw-dust one may see

Where men work timber; so it fell and lay,

And from the earth where it had lain, there oozed

Thick clots of foam, as when in vintage bright,

Rich must is poured upon the earth from vine

Sacred to Bacchos; and I know not now

Which way of thought to turn, but see too well

That I have done a deed most perilous.

What cause had he, the Kentaur, dying then,

To wish me well on whose account he died?

It cannot be. But seeking to destroy