Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1894) v1.djvu/139

Rh O'erpast! I take my children from the land.

What need to wring the father's heart with ills

Of these, to gain myself ills twice so many?

Not I, not I!—Ye purposes, farewell!

Yet—yet—what ails me? Would I earn derision,

Letting my foes slip from mine hand unpunished?

I must dare this. Out on my coward mood

That from mine heart let loose relenting words!

Children, pass ye within.

Now, whoso may not

Sinless be present at my sacrifice,

On his head be it: mine hand faltereth not.

Oh! oh!

O heart, mine heart, do not—do not this deed!

Let them be, wretched heart, spare thou thy babes!

There dwelling with me shall they gladden thee.—

No!—by the nether fiends that dwell with Hades,

Never shall this betide, that I will leave

My children for my foes to trample on.

They needs must die. And, since it needs must be,

Even I will slay them, I, who gave them life.

All this is utter doom:—she shall not 'scape!

Yea, on her head the wreath is; in my robes

The princess-bride is perishing—I know it.

But—for I fare on journey most unhappy,

And shall speed these on yet unhappier—

I would speak to my sons.

Give, O my babes,

Give to your mother the right hand to kiss.

O dearest hand, O lips most dear to me,

O form and noble feature of my children,

Blessing be on you—there!—for all things here

Your sire hath reft. O sweet, O sweet embrace!