O, not in darkness, not in fear of men,
Shall Argos find him, when he comes again,
Mine own
undaunted
.
Euripides - Electra
Did there come ... Nay, mark me now...
Thy brother in the dark, last night, to bow
His head before that unadored tomb?
O come, and mark the colour of it. Come
And lay thine own hair by that mourner's tress!
A hundred little things make likenesses
In brethren born, and show the father's blood.
ELECTRA (_trying to mask her excitement and resist the contagion of his_).
Old heart, old heart, is this a wise man's mood?...
O, not in darkness, not in fear of men,
Shall Argos find him, when he comes again,
Mine own
undaunted
.
.. Nay, and if it were,
What likeness could there be? My brother's hair
Is as a prince's and a rover's, strong
With sunlight and with strife: not like the long
Locks that a woman combs.... And many a head
Hath this same semblance, wing for wing, tho' bred
Of blood not ours.... 'Tis hopeless. Peace, old man.
