Ch. Where are those maidens and their escort? Say.
Mess. They are not far off, but here. The voice of weeping
Betokens all too plainly their approach.
Ant. Alas!
How manifold the inheritance of woe
Drawn from the troubled fountain of our birth!
Indelible, ineradicable grief!
For him erewhile
We had labour infinite and unrelieved,
And now in his last hour we have to tell
Of sights and sorrows beyond thought.
Ch. How then?
Ant. Friends, ye might understand.
Ch. Speak. Is he gone?
Ant. Gone! Even as heart could wish, had wishes power.
How else, when neither war, nor the wide sea
Encountered him, but viewless realms enwrapt him,
Wafted away to some mysterious doom?
Whence on our hearts a horror of night is fallen.
Woe ’s me! For whither wandering shall we find
Hard livelihood, by land or over sea?
Ism. I know not. Let dark Hades take me off
To lie in death with mine age-honoured sire!
Death were far better than my life to be.
Ch. Noblest of maidens, ye must learn to bear
Meekly the sending of the Gods. Be not
On fire with grief. Your state is well assured.
Ant. If to be thus is well, then may one long
For evil to return. Things nowise dear
Were dear to me, whiles I had him to embrace.
O father! loved one! that art wearing now
The eternal robe of darkness underground,
Old as thou wert, think not this maid and I
Will cease from loving thee!
Ch. He met his doom.
Ant. He met the doom he longed for.
Ch. How was that?
