Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1894) v1.djvu/107

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Ay: more I love not thee than mine own house.

O, how I call thee now to mind, my country!

Ay, dear to me is Corinth, next my children.

Alas! to mortals what a curse is love!

Blessing or curse, I trow, as fortune falls.

Zeus, may the cause of this 'scape not thy ken!

Hence, passionate fool, and rid me of my trouble.

Troubled am I, nor need I troubles new.

Soon shalt thou be by servants' hands thrust out.

Nay—nay—not this, O Kreon, I beseech thee!

A coil thou wilt make, woman, as it seems.