Creon
[1339] Lead me away, I beg you, a rash, useless man. [1340] I have murdered you, son, unwittingly, and you, too, my wife—the misery! I do not know which way I should look, or where I should seek support. All is [1345] amiss that is in my hands, and, again, a crushing fate has leapt upon my head.
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