Page:Tragedies of Sophocles (Plumptre 1878).djvu/373

Rh Hyllos. And yet, beholding this,

How could I hold my peace?

Hera. Ο thou Kenæan rock,

Where altars crown the height,

What thanks for what great gifts

Hast thou, Ο Zeus, wrought out

For me in my great woe!

What, ah! what great hurt

Hast thou appointed me!

Would that thou ne'er had'st met

These eyes of mine, to see

This crown of frenzy none have power to soothe!

What charmer, what skilled leech,

Less than great Zeus himself,

Will soothe this direst woe?

Far off is that wonder to see.

Ah! ah!

Leave me to sleep, yes, leave me, wretched one;

Leave me to sleep my sleep.

Where dost thou touch me? Where move?

Death thou wilt bring; yea, bring death.

What awhile knew repose

Now thou dost stir again;

It grasps me, creeping still.

Where are ye, of all men that live on the earth most ungrateful?

For whom I of old, in all forests and seas, slaying monsters,

Wore out my life; and now, when I lie sore smitten before you,

Not one of you all will bring the fire or the sword that will help me.

Ah me! will no one come,

And, smiting my head, put a stop