Thou endest fairly. Now, then, O my son,
Add the performance swiftly, that, before
Some spasm or furious onset of my pain
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Have seized me, ye may place me on the pyre.
Come, loiter not, but lift me. Now my end
Is near, the last cessation of my woe.
HYL
Since thy command is urgent, O my sire!
We tarry not, but bear thee to the pyre.
Stubborn heart, ere yet again
Wakes the fierce rebound of pain,
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While the evil holds aloof,
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Thou, with bit of diamond proof,
Curb thy cry, with forcèd will
Seeming to do gladly still!
Lift him, men, and hate not me
For the evil deeds ye see,
Since the Heavens’ relentless sway
Recks not of the righteous way.
He who gave life and doth claim
From his seed a Father’s name
Can behold this hour of blame.
Though the future none can tell,
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Yet the present is not well:
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Sore for him who bears the blow,
Sad for us who feel his woe,
Shameful to the Gods, we trow.
Maidens from the palace-hall,
Come ye forth, too, at our call!
Mighty deaths beyond belief,
Many an unknown form of grief,
Ye have seen to-day; and nought
But the power of Zeus hath wrought.
Trachiniae. Sophocles. Lewis Campbell (Translator). London, New York and Toronto. 1906.