Hadst thou but seen the babe stretch forth his hands to me!Old ServantTo find thy mother’s breast, to nestle in thy arms?CreusaBy being kept therefrom he suffered grievous wrong from me.Old ServantHow earnest thou to think of casting forth thy babe?CreusaMethought the god would save his own begotten child.Old Servant Ah me! what storms assail thy family’s prosperity!CreusaWhy weepest thou, old man, with head close-veiled?Old ServantTo see the sorrows of thy sire and thee.CreusaSuch is our mortal life; naught abideth in one stay.Old ServantDaughter, let us cease to dwell on themes of woe.CreusaWhat must I do? Misfortune leaves us helpless.Old ServantAvenge thee on the god who first did injure thee.CreusaHow can I, weak mortal as I am, outrun those mightier powers?Old ServantSet fire to Apollo’s awful sanctuary.CreusaI am afraid; my present sorrows are enough for me.Old ServantThen what thou canst, that dare—thy husband’s death.CreusaNay, I do respect his former love in the days when he was good and true.Old ServantAt least, then, slay the boy who hath appeared to supplant thee.CreusaHow can I? would it were possible! how I wish it were!Old ServantArm thy followers with daggers.