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It was Apollo, friends, Apollo who brought these troubles  to pass, these terrible, terrible troubles. But the hand that struck my eyes was none other than my own, wretched that I am!  Why should I see, when sight showed me nothing sweet? Chorus
These things were just as you say. Oedipus
What, my friends, can I behold anymore, what can I love, what greeting can touch my ear with joy? Hurry, friends,  lead me from the land, lead me from here, the utterly lost,  the thrice-accursed, the mortal most hateful to the gods! Chorus
Wretched alike for your fortune and for your understanding of it, would that I had never known you!
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