Creusa
Ah! my suffering soul! how am I to keep silence?
Am I to disclose the secrets of my love and lose all claim to modesty? What is there to keep me back any longer? With whom have I to pit myself in virtue’s lists? Hath not my husband proved untrue?
860
Home and children, both are torn from me; all hope is dead; I have not realized my wish to set the matter straight, by hushing up my former union and saying naught about my son of sorrow.
865
No! by the starry seat of Zeus, by her whose home is on my rocks, and by the hallowed strand of Triton’s mere with brimming flood, I will no more conceal my love; for if
870
I can lift that burden from my breast I shall rest easier. With tears my eyes are streaming and my heart is wrung with anguish for the treacherous counsels both of men and gods,—traitors they! as I will show,
875
ungrateful traitors to their loves!
880
Ion. Euripides. Edward P. Coleridge (Translator). London. 1906.
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