To all the gods: "Oh, spare my country now,975
I pray; for I have done what must be done,
And I have paid the penalty I owed.
Now have I found at last a fitting night
To match my impious wedlock." As he speaks,
His face is watered by a hideous shower,
As the blood flows streaming from his ruptured veins.
Chorus: By fate we're driven; then yield to fate.980
No anxious, brooding care can change
The thread of destiny that falls