Page:Four Plays of Aeschylus (1908) Morshead.djvu/76

46

Alack, alack my wrong!

Stern is thy voice, thy vaunting loud and strong.

Thy sire, the mighty Nilus, drive thee hence,

Turning to death and doom thy greedy violence!

Swift to the vessel of the double prow,

Go quickly! let none linger, else this hand

Ruthless will hale you by your tresses hence.

Alack, O father! from the shrine

Not aid but agony is mine.

As a spider he creeps and he clutches his prey,

And he hales me away.

A spectre of darkness, of darkness. Alas and alas! well-a-day!

O Earth, O my mother! O Zeus, thou king of the earth, and her child!

Turn back, we pray thee, from us his clamour and threatenings wild!

Peace! I fear not this country's deities.

They fostered not my childhood nor mine age.

Like a snake that is human he comes, he shudders and crawls to my side:

As an adder that biteth the foot, his clutch on my flesh doth abide.