Electra
Oh, he is dead, my sister: all thy hopes
In him are vanish'd: look to him no more.
CHRY. Ah wretched me, who hath arrived to bring
These mournful tidings ?
One, who when he died.
Was near, was present.
Where is he? My heart
Sinks with astonishment.
Electra. Sophocles. Robert Potter (Translator). London. 1820.