Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1896) v2.djvu/456
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EURIPIDES.
Amphitryon.
My son!—ay, mine, though ne'er so ill thy plight!
Herakles.
Am I in grievous plight, that thou shouldst weep?
Amphitryon.
Plight whereat Gods might groan, were God so stricken! 1115
Herakles.
Great words!—but what hath chanced thou say'st not yet.
Amphitryon.
Thyself may'st see, if now thy wit be sound.
Herakles.
Speak, if thou shadowest forth strange ills for me.
Amphitryon.
I will say—so thy frenzy of hell be past.
Herakles.
Again that word!—ha, what dark riddle this? 1120
Amphitryon.
Yea, if thy mind be sober yet I doubt—
Herakles.
Nought I remember of a frenzied mind.
Amphitryon.
Fathers, shall I unbind my son, or no?