Brave but to mar a helpless part of thee,45
At length spew out that hateful life of thine.
Delay no more upon thy punishment,
And give thyself entirely unto death.
Why do I, sluggish, linger on in life?
There is no further crime that I can do.
Oh, my foreboding, wretched soul, there is!
[To Antigone.]
Flee from thy father, flee, while still a maid;
My mother's fate makes me of all afraid.50