Page:The Plays of Euripides Vol. 1- Edward P. Coleridge (1910).djvu/111

Rh. My babes I love, but there is another storm that buffets me.

. Daughter, are thy hands from bloodshed pure?

. My hands are pure, but on my soul there rests a stain.

. The issue of some enemy’s secret witchery?

. A friend is my destroyer, one unwilling as myself.

. Hath Theseus wronged thee in any wise?

. Never may I prove untrue to him!

. Then what strange mystery is there that drives thee on to die?

. O, let my sin and me alone! 'tis not 'gainst thee I sin.

. Never willingly! and, if I fail, 'twill rest at thy door.

. How now? thou usest force in clinging to my hand.

. Yea, and I will never loose my hold upon thy knees.

. Alas for thee! my sorrows, shouldst thou learn them, would recoil on thee.

. What keener grief for me than failing to win thee?

. 'Twill be death to thee; though to me that brings renown.

. And dost thou then conceal this boon despite my prayers?

. I do, for 'tis out of shame I am planning an honourable escape.

. Tell it, and thine honour shall the brighter shine.

. Away, I do conjure thee; loose my hand.

. I will not, for the boon thou shouldst have granted me is denied.