Her comely locks she tore, and tears
Fell streaming down her grieving cheeks.330
At last, with hope of safety gone,
With wrath inflamed, by woes o'ercome,
"Dost thou, O son, make this return,"
She cried, "for that great boon I gave?
Such death I merit, I confess,335
Who bore such monstrous child as thou,
Who gave to thee the light of day,
And in my madness raised thee high