Page:Four Plays of Aeschylus (Cookson).djvu/150

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May the Gods hear our prayers, for they are just;

And grant them for the safety of our land;

And be the invader's weapon backward thrust,

Yea, in his own breast with a mighty hand!

On them may Zeus his bolt let fall

Yonder without the wall!

Last name of all—seventh at the seventh Gate—

Thy brother! Hear what woes his prayers invoke

On thee and on this realm! He'll plant his foot

Upon our walls: our land shall hear his name

Heralded; the loud paean he will uplift,

Yea, he will seek thee out and slay thee first,

Then die beside thee! Or 'If he fall not,

But live; exile for exile, wrong for wrong,

Measure for measure! As he drove me out,

So shall he wander forth a fugitive.'

And for the fair fulfilment of these hopes

He invocates the Gods that knit in love

Each to his kin and all men to their home.

Well named is he 'the Mighty One in Quarrel'!

A new-wrought shield he bears—the Argive buckler,

Round, with two-fold device artificered.

Hammered in gold a man completely armed

Led by a woman-form of sober mien.

Justice he calls her; suiting to that name

Her legend, 'I will bring home the banished man:

He shall possess his land, and come and go,

Free of his father's house.' Here ends the tale

Of all their proud inventions: make thy choice