Page:Tragedies of Sophocles (Plumptre 1878).djvu/407

Rh On you in common this request I lay;

Give him this message from me, home to take

This boy, and show him there to Telamon,

And to my mother, Eribœa named,

That he may feed their age for evermore,

Till they too enter the abode of Death;]

And these my arms no umpires—no, nor yet

That plague of mine—shall to Achæans give;

But thou, my son, Eurysakes, be true

To that thy name, and holding by the belt

Well wrought, bear thou the sevenfold shield unhurt;

But all my other arms with me shall lie

Entombed. And now, take thou this boy indoors

And close the tent, and shed no wailing tears

Here in the front. A woman still must weep.

Close up the opening quickly: skilful leech

Mutters no spell o'er sore that needs the knife.

Chor. I tremble as I hear thy eagerness;

For I like not this sharp, keen-whetted speech.

Tec. Ah! Aias, lord, what deed dost thou intend?

Aias. Ask not; inquire not. Self-command is good.

Tec. Ah! my heart fails me. Now, by this thy son,

And all the Gods, I pray thee, leave us not.

Aias. Thou vexest me too much. What? Know'st thou not

That I no more am debtor to the Gods

That I should do them service?

Tec. Hush! oh, hush!

Aias. Speak thou to those that hear thee.

Tec. Wilt not thou

Be soothed, and hearken?

Aias. Thou dost speak too much.

Tec. Yea, for I fear, Ο prince.

Aias. Quick! lead her in.