Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1894) v1.djvu/108

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I will flee forth:—not this the boon I crave.

Why restive then?—why rid not Corinth of thee?

Suffer me yet to tarry this one day,

And somewhat for our exile to take thought,

And find my babes a refuge, since their sire

Cares nought to make provision for his sons.

Compassionate these: a father too art thou

Of children: meet it is thou show these grace.

Not for myself I fret, if I be banished:

For them in their calamity I mourn.

My spirit least of all is tyrannous.

Many a plan have my relentings marred:

And, woman, now I know I err herein,

Yet shalt thou win this boon. But I forewarn thee,

If thee the approaching Sun-god's torch behold

Within this country's confines with thy sons,

Thou diest:—the word is said that shall not lie.

Now, if remain thou must, remain one day—

Too short for thee to do the deeds I dread.

O hapless thou!

Woe's me for thy misery, woe for the trouble and anguish that meet thee!

Whitherward wilt thou turn thee?—what welcoming hand mid the strangers shall greet thee?