Orestes
Euripides
Euripides. The Plays of Euripides, Translated into English Prose from the Text of Paley. Vol. II. Coleridge, Edward P., translator. London: George Bell and Sons, 1891.
- Alas! I weep to see you stand before the tomb, my brother, face to face with the funeral pyre.
- Alas, again! as I take my last look at you, my senses leave me.
- Be silent! an end to womanish lamenting! resign yourself to your fate. It is piteous, but nevertheless you must bear the present fate.
- How can I be silent, when we poor sufferers are no longer to gaze upon the sun-god’s light?
- Oh! spare me that death! Enough that this unhappy wretch is already slain by Argives; let our present sufferings be.
- Alas for your unhappy youth, Orestes, and for your fated
- untimely death! When you should have lived, you are going to die.
- By the gods, do not unman me, bringing me to tears by the recollection of my sorrows.