Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1896) v2.djvu/386

Round the sacred fennel-wand lightly shivering,
And if whirled through the air the tambour moan
As it swings, as it rings, to the light touch quivering,
And if Bacchanal hair to the winds shall be thrown,
When the Goddess's vigils are revelling nightly,
And the shafts of the moon's bow touch them lightly,
Shot from the heights where her eyes gleambrightly.
Repent—thou didst trust in thy fairness alone.

Enter Helen.

Within the palace all is well, my friends;
For Proteus' child, confederate with us, 1370
Being questioned, hath not told her brother aught
Of my lord's presence, but for my sake saith
That dead he seeth not on earth the light.
Right happily my lord hath won these arms.
Himself hath donned the mail that he should cast 1375
Into the sea, hath thrust his stalwart arm
Into the shield-strap, grasped in hand the spear,
As who should join in homage to the dead,—
In season for the fray hath harnessed him,
As who shall vanquish aliens untold 1380
Singly, when once we tread the galley's deck.
He hath doffed his wreckage rags for the attire
Wherein I have arrayed him, and have given
His limbs the bath, long lacked, of river-dew.
—No more, for forth comes one who deems he holds 1385
My marriage in the hollow of his hand:
I must be silent, and thy loyalty
I claim, and sealed lips, that we haply may,
Ourselves delivered, one day save thee too.