And who would not bewail thee, brother,1440 who thus art hurrying to death foreseen?
Po. If 'tis fate, I must die. An. Nay, nay,—hear my pleading!
Po. Plead not amiss. An. Then woe is me, indeed, if I must lose thee! Po. Nay, that rests with Fortune,—that end or another.—For you twain, at least, I pray the gods that ye never meet with ill; for in all men's eyes ye are unworthy to suffer.
[Exit, on spectators' left.
Kommos str. 1. Ch. Behold, new ills have newly come, in our hearing, from the sightless stranger,—ills fraught with a heavy doom;1450 unless, perchance, Fate is finding its goal. For 'tis not mine to say that a decree of Heaven is ever vain: watchful, aye watchful of those decrees is Time, overthrowing some fortunes, and on the morrow lifting others, again, to honour.—Hark that sound in the sky!—Zeus defend us!
[Thunder is heard.
Oe. My children, my children! If there be any man to send, would that some one would fetch hither the peerless Theseus!
An. And what, father, is the aim of thy summons?
Oe. This winged thunder of Zeus1460 will lead me anon to Hades: nay, send, and tarry not.
[A second peal is heard.
