Grant us the nigh despaired-of boon we crave?

Wife, children, homestead, hearth and God!

Where will you find one, search ye ne'er so well.

Who 'scapes perdition if a god impel!

Surely we pity thee and him alike

Daughter of Oedipus, for your distress;

But as we reverence the decrees of Heaven

We cannot say aught other than we said.