Page:Tragedies of Sophocles (Plumptre 1878).djvu/472

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See how thou best may'st work.

Thou know'st well whom I serve;

And if thy measures be the same as his,

Then men of judgment look for troubles sore.

The time is come, my son, the time is come.

All sightless, void of help,

The man in darkness lies,

(Right sound is sleep beneath the burning sun,)

And stirs nor hand, nor foot, nor any limb,

But seems like one in Hades stretched full length.

Look to it well, and think if thou dost speak

The things that suit the time.

Far as my mind can grasp,

The toil that brings no fear holds highest place.

Neop. I bid you hush, nor lose your wits in fear;

The man has oped his eyes, and lifts his head.

Phil. [Waking.] Ο light that follow'st sleep! Ο help,

my thoughts

Had never dared to hope for from these strangers!

For never had I dreamt, Ο boy, that thou

With such true pity would'st endure to bear

All these my sorrows, and remain, and help.

The Atreidæ ne'er had heart to bear with them,

As well as thou hast borne. Brave generals they!

But thou, my son, who art of noble heart,

And sprung from noble-hearted ones, hast made

But light of all, though every sense be filled

With stench and shrieks. And now, since respite seems

At hand, and some refreshment after pain,

Do thou, my son, upraise me, steady me,

That when the pain shall leave me, we may make

Straight for the ship, and tarry not to sail.