TEC. Woe's me! O friends, this desolating blow Is falling! Oh, stand forward to prevent! And some bring Teucer with more haste, while some Explore the western bays and others search Eastward to find your hero's fatal path! For well I see I am cheated and cast forth From the old favour. Child, what shall I do? [_Looking at_ EURYSAKES We must not stay. I too will fare along, go far as I have power. Come, let us go. Bestir ye! 'Tis no moment to sit still, If we would save him who now speeds to die. CH. I am ready. Come! Fidelity of foot, And swift performance, shall approve me true. [_Exeunt omnes_ _The scene changes to a lonely wooded spot._ AIAS (_discovered alone_). The sacrificer stands prepared,--and when More keen? Let me take time for thinking, too! This gift of Hector, whom of stranger men I hated most with heart and eyes, is set In hostile Trojan soil, with grinding hone Fresh-pointed, and here planted by my care Thus firm, to give me swift and friendly death. Fine instrument, so much for thee! Then, first, Thou, for 'tis meet, great Father, lend thine aid. For no great gift I sue thee. Let some voice Bear Teucer the ill news, that none but he May lift my body, newly fallen in death About my bleeding sword, ere I be spied By some of those who hate me, and be flung To dogs and vultures for an outcast prey. So far I entreat thee, Lord of Heaven. And thou, Hermes, conductor of the shadowy dead, Speed me to rest, and when with this sharp steel I have cleft a sudden passage to my heart, At one swift bound waft me to painless slumber! But most be ye my helpers, awful Powers, Who know no blandishments, but still perceive All wicked deeds i' the world--strong, swift, and sure, Avenging Furies, understand my wrong, See how my life is ruined, and by whom. Come, ravin on Achaean flesh--spare none; Rage through the camp!--Last, thou that driv'st thy course Up yon steep Heaven, thou Sun, when thou behold'st My fatherland, checking thy golden rein, Report my fall, and this my fatal end, To my old sire, and the poor soul who tends him. Ah, hapless one! when she shall hear this word, How she will make the city ring with woe! 'Twere from the business idly to condole. To work, then, and dispatch. O Death! O Death! Now come, and welcome! Yet with thee, hereafter, I shall find close communion where I go. But unto thee, fresh beam of shining Day, And thee, thou travelling Sun-god, I may speak Now, and no more for ever. O fair light! O sacred fields of Salamis my home! Thou, firm set natal hearth: Athens renowned, And ye her people whom I love; O rivers, Brooks, fountains here--yea, even the Trojan plain I now invoke!--kind fosterers, farewell! This one last word from Aias peals to you: Henceforth my speech will be with souls unseen. [_Falls on his sword_ CHORUS (_re-entering severally_).