Page:The poetical works of Matthew Arnold, 1897.djvu/385

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MEROPE.
347

ÆPYTUS.

In word I died, that I in deed might live.
But who are these?


ARCAS.

Messenian maidens, friends.


ÆPYTUS.

And, Arcas!—but I tremble!


ARCAS.

Boldly ask.


ÆPYTUS.

That black-robed, swooning figure?...


ARCAS.

Merope.


ÆPYTUS.

O mother! mother!


MEROPE.

Who upbraids me? Ah!...

[seeing the axe.


ÆPYTUS.

Upbraids thee? no one.


MEROPE.

Thou dost well: but take...


ÆPYTUS.

What wav'st thou off?