strength,—help thou,—for strength is at thy command, too largely to need my aid in his relief.
Hy. My hands are helping; but no resource, in myself or from another,1020 avails me to make his life forget its anguish:—such is the doom appointed by Zeus!
str. 3. He. O my son, where art thou? Raise me,—take hold of me,—thus, thus! Alas, my destiny!
ant. 2. Again, again the cruel pest leaps forth to rend me,1030 the fierce plague with which none may cope!
O Pallas, Pallas, it tortures me again! Alas, my son, pity thy sire,—draw a blameless sword, and smite beneath my collar-bone, and heal this pain wherewith thy godless mother hath made me wild! So may I see her fall,—thus, even thus, as she hath destroyed me!
ant. 3. Sweet Hades, brother of Zeus, give me rest,1040 give me rest,—end my woe by a swiftly-sped doom!
Ch. I shudder, friends, to hear these sorrows of our lord; what a man is here, and what torments afflict him!