Page:Sophocles (Storr 1912) v1.djvu/221



Oh God!

Sprang from the wife and mother’s travail-pain.

What, then thy offspring are at once—

Too true.

Their father’s very sisters too.

Oh horror!

Horrors from the boundless deep

Back on my soul in refluent surges sweep.

Thou hast endured—

Intolerable woe.

And sinned—

I sinnèd not.

How so?

I served the State; would I had never won

That graceless grace by which I was undone.

And next, unhappy man, thou hast shed blood? 199