186 SOPHOCLES
Come forth, my child, on bended knee I ask thee."
And then the boy, with fierce, wikl-gleaming eyes, m
Glared at him, spat upon his face, and draws,
Still answering nought, the sharp two-handled sword.
Missing his aim, (his father from the blow
Turning aside,) in anger with himself,
The poor ill-doomed one, even as he was, 1325
Fell on his sword, and drove it through his breast,
Full half its length, and clasping, yet alive.
The maiden's arm, still soft, he there breathes out
In broken gasps, upon her fair white cheek.
Swift stream of bloody shower. So they lie, 1330
Dead bridegroom with dead bride, and he has gained.
Poor boy, his marriage rites in Hades' home.
And left to all men witness terrible.
That man's worst ill is want of counsel wise.
[Exit EURYDICE.
Chorus. What dost thou make of this ? She turn- eth back, 1335
Before one word, or good or ill, she speaks.
Messenger. I too am full of wonder. Yet with hopes 1 feed myself, she will not think it meet, Hearing her son's woes, openly to wail Out in the town, but to her handmaids ^ there 1340
Will give command to wail her woe at home. Too trained a judgment has she so to err.
Chorus. I know not. To my mind, or silence hard, Or vain wild cries, are signs of bitter woe.
Messenger. Soon we shall know, within the house advancing, 1345
If, in the passion of her heart, she hides A secret purpose. Truly dost thou speak ; There is a terror in that silence hard.
1 Compare tlie wailing of women for Hector, page 19.
