Page:Four Plays of Aeschylus (1908) Morshead.djvu/241

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Mark a plain word—I loathe all gods that are,

Who reaped my kindness and repay with wrong.

I hear no little madness in thy words.

Madness be mine, if scorn of foes be mad.

Past bearing were thy pride, in happiness.

Ah me!

Zeus knoweth nought of sorrow's cry!

He shall! Time's lapse bringeth all lessons home.

To thee it brings not yet discretion's curb.

No—else I had not wrangled with a slave!

Then thou concealest all that Zeus would learn?