Page:Four Plays of Aeschylus (Cookson).djvu/207

Rh To the main land of Asia. What think ye?

Is not the only ruler of the Gods

A complete tyrant, violent to all,

Respecting none? First, being himself a God,

He burneth to enjoy a mortal maid,

And then torments her with these wanderings,

A sorry suitor for thy love, poor girl,

A bitter wooing. Yet having heard so much

Thou art not even in the overture

And prelude of the song.

Alas! Oh! Oh!

Thou dost cry out, fetching again deep groans:

What wilt thou do when thou hast heard in full

The evils yet to come?

And wilt thou tell

The maiden something further: some fresh sorrow?

A stormy sea of wrong and ruining.

What does it profit me to live! Oh, why

Do I not throw myself from this rough crag

And in one leap rid me of all my pain?

Better to die at once than live, and all

My days be evil.

Thou would'st find it hard

To bear what I must bear: for unto me

It is not given to die,—a dear release