Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1896) v2.djvu/96

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Daughter, what wilt thou do?—wilt mar thy form?

Alas, and well-a-day!

Hence from mine head, thou gossamer-thread of my wimple!—float on the wind away!

Child, veil thy bosom, gird thy vesture-folds!

What have I to do, with my vesture to veil

My bosom, when bared are the crimes I have dared against my lord, bared naked to light?

Griev'st thou to have contrived thy rival's death?

O yea, for my murderous daring I wail,

For my fury-burst, O woman accurst!—O woman accurst in all men's sight!

Thy lord shall yet forgive thee this thy sin.

O why didst thou wrest that sword from mine hand?