Page:Works of Voltaire Volume 16.djvu/181

Rh  If you pursue the guilty, O complete The glorious work, and make the victim known! Return, my people, to the temple; there Once more entreat the gods: perhaps your prayers May from their heavenly mansions draw them down To dwell among us: if they loved the king, They will avenge his death, and kind to him Who errs unknowing, will direct this arm For justice raised, and teach me where to strike.

Believe me, 'tis too true, my royal mistress, Your dying people, with one common voice, Accuse the hapless Philoctetes: fate Hath sent him back to save this wretched kingdom.

What do I hear, ye powers?

'Tis wonderful.

Who? Philoctetes?

Yes, it must be he: To whom can we impute it but to him? When last at Thebes, he seemed to meditate A deed like this; for much he hated Laius: