he rest to me is little; yet, since that
Must from some mouth be heard, relate it thou.

_Messenger_

Not little, if thou saw'st what love, what zeal,
At thy dead husband's name the people show.
For when this morning in the public square
I took my stand, and saw the unarm'd crowds
Of citizens in holiday attire,
Women and children intermix'd; and then,
Group'd around Zeus's altar, all in arms,
Serried and grim, the ring of Dorian lords--
I trembled for our prince and his attempt.
Silence and expectation held us all;
Till presently the King came forth, in robe
Of sacrifice, his guards clearing the way
Before him--at his side, the prince, thy son,
Unarm'd and travel-soil'd, just as he was.
With him conferring the King slowly reach'd
The altar in the middle of the square,
Where, by the sacrificing minister,
The flower-dress'd victim stood--a milk-white bull,
Swaying from side to side his massy head
With short impatient lowings. There he stopp'd,
And seem'd to muse awhile, then raised his eyes
To heaven, and laid his hand upon the steer,
And cried: _O Zeus, let what blood-guiltiness_
_Yet stains our land be by this blood wash'd out,_
_And grant henceforth to the Messenians peace!_
That moment, while with upturn'd eyes he pray'd,
The prince snatch'd from the sacrificer's hand
The axe, and on the forehead of the King,
Where twines the chaplet, dealt a mighty blow
Which fell'd him to the earth, and o'er him stood,
And shouted: _Since by thee defilement came,_
_What blood so meet as thine to wash it out?_
_What hand to strike thee meet as mine, the hand_
_Of AEpytus, thy murder'd master's son?_--
But, gazing at him from the ground, the King....
_Is it, then, thou?_ he murmur'd; and with that,
He bow'd his head, and deeply groan'd, and died.
Till then we all seem'd stone, but then a cry
Broke from the Dorian lords; forward they rush'd
To circle the prince round--when suddenly
Laias in arms sprang to his nephew's side,
Crying: _O ye Messenians, will ye leave
The son to perish as ye left the sire?_
And from that moment I saw nothing clear;
For from all sides a deluge, as it seem'd
Burst o'er the altar and the Dorian lords,
Of holiday-clad citizens transform'd
To armed warriors;--I heard vengeful cries,
I heard the clash of weapons; then I saw
The Dorians lying d