Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1896) v2.djvu/299

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I know thine agony, hearing the crying

Of the mother that bare thee, her wail of woe.

Her hand on my cheek did she lay, and her calling

Rang in mine ears—"My child!—I implore thee!"

And she hung, she hung on my neck, to stay

The sword, from my palsied hand-grasp falling.

Wretch, how couldst thou bear to behold before thee

Thy mother, gasping her life away?

I cast my mantle before mine eyes,

And my sword began that sacrifice,

Through the throat of my mother cleaving, cleaving!

Yea, and I urged thee with instant word,

And I set with thee mine hand to the sword.

I have done things horrible past believing!

Take, take, with her vesture the limbs shroud round

Of my mother: O close her wide death-wound.

Thou barest them, thou, these hands death-dealing!

Lo, thou that wast dear and yet not dear,