Rhesus
Euripides
Euripides. The Plays of Euripides, Translated into English Prose from the Text of Paley. Vol. I. Coleridge, Edward P., translator. London: George Bell and Sons, 1906.
- Die! No! Enough are those already dead.
- Where am I to turn, I ask you, bereft of my master?
- My house shall shelter you and cure you of your hurt.
- How shall murderers’ hands care for me?
- This fellow will never have done repeating the same story.
- Curses on the doer of this deed! On you my tongue fixes no charge, as you complain; but Justice is over all.
- Take him away; carry him to my palace and tend him carefully, that he may have no fault to find. And you must go to those upon the walls,
- to Priam and his aged councillors, and tell them to give orders for the burial of the dead at the resting-place along the public road. The charioteer is carried off.
- Why does fate change and bring Troy once again to mourning after her great good fortune, planting what seeds?
- Oh, oh! What deity above our heads, O king, bears in her hands as on a bier the newly slain corpse? I shudder at this sight of woe.
- Behold me,Trojans; for I, the Muse, one of the nine sisters, that have honor among the wise, I am here, having seen the piteous death his foes have dealt my darling son. Yet the crafty Odysseus, that slew him, one day hereafter shall pay a fitting penalty.
- O my son, your mother’s grief, I mourn for you in my native strains of woe! What a journey you made to Troy, a very path of ill-fortune and sorrow!
- starting, in spite of all my warnings and your father’s earnest prayers, in defiance of us. Woe to me for you, my dear, dear son! Ah, woe!
- As far as one can who has no common tie of kin,