Page:Tragedies of Sophocles (Plumptre 1878).djvu/274

176 Chor. Full clearly thou may'st see. No longer now

Does yon recess conceal her.

[The gates open and show the dead body of .]

Creon. Woe is me!

This second ill I gaze on, miserable,

What fate, yea, what still lies in wait for me?

Here in my arms I bear what was my son;

And there, Ο misery! look upon the dead.

Ah, wretched mother! ah, my son! my son!

Sec. Mess. In frenzy wild she round the altar clung,

And closed her darkening eyelids, and bewailed

The noble fate of Megareus, who died

Long since, and then again that corpse thou hast;

And last of all she cried a bitter cry

Against thy deeds, the murderer of thy sons.

Creon. Woe! woe! alas!

I shudder in my fear. Will no one strike

A deadly blow with sharp two-edgèd sword?

Fearful my fate, alas!

And with a fearful woe full sore beset.

Sec. Mess. She in her death charged thee with being the cause

Of all their sorrows, these and those of old.

Creon. And in what way struck she the murderous blow?

Sec. Mess. With her own hand below her heart she stabbed,

Hearing her son's most pitiable fate.

Creon. Ah me! The fault is mine. On no one else,

Of all that live, the fearful guilt can come;