When I am dead, if thou wouldst show thy duty,
Think of thine oath to me, and, on my word,
Make her thy wife: nor let another man
Take her, but only thou; since she hath lain
So near this heart. Obey me, O my boy!
And be thyself the maker of this bond.
To spurn at trifles after great things given,
Were to confound the meed already won.
Hyl. Oh, anger is not right, when men are ill!
But who could bear to see thee in this mind?
Her. You murmur, as you meant to disobey.
Hyl. How can I do it, when my mother’s death
And thy sad state sprang solely from this girl?
Who, not possessed with furies, could choose this?
Far better, father, for me too to die,
Than to live still with my worst enemy.
Her. This youth withdraws his reverence in my death.
But, if thou yield’st not to thy father’s hest,
The curse from Heaven shall dog thy footsteps still.
Hyl. Ah! thou wilt tell me that thy pain is come.
Her. Yea, for thou wak’st the torment that had slept.
Hyl. Ay me! how cross and doubtful is my way!
Her. Because you will reject your father’s word.
Hyl. Must I be taught impiety from thee?
Her. It is not impious to content my heart.
Hyl. Then you require this with an absolute will?
Her. And bid Heaven witness to my strong command.
Hyl. Then I will do it, for the act is thine.
I will not cast it off. Obeying thee,
My sire, the Gods will ne’er reprove my deed.
Her. Thou endest fairly. Now, then, O my son,
Add the performance swiftly, that, before
Some spasm or furious onset of my pain
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.
