Philoctetes
No; but these arrows, take; preserve 'em {<>;
me.
A little while, till I grow better. Sleep
Is coming on me, and my pains will cease.
Tvet mo ])e quiet. If meantime our foes
Surprise thee, let nor force nor artifice
Deprive thee of the great, the precious trust
I have reposed in thee ; that were ruin
To thee, and to thy friend.
Philoctetes. Sophocles. Thomas Francklin (Translator). London. 1758–1759.