Page:Four Plays of Aeschylus (Cookson).djvu/60

48

The dark wave whelm thee rounding ness on ness

Where Cyprus' forests clothe her capes of wrath,

And Nile, that mighty Nile which sent thee forth,

Strike out thy name—one insolent the less.

Aboard! Aboard! The ship has put about

Ready to go to sea. Get thee aboard,

Or I will lug thee by the forelock.

[He rushes at the, followed by his men.

Father, a thing in human shape and yet

A lurker in the net

That Evil spins for mortal woe,

Like an industrious spider to and fro

Weaves link by link and thread by thread

Its latticed snare.

Earth, Mother Earth, the spectre dread,

The black nightmare

Drive far away,

Mother Earth! O Father Zeus, I pray!

I am not fearful of your Argive Gods:

They suckled not my youth nor fed my age.

What shall I call thee? A two-footed snake,

A viper creeping from the brake

With venomed fang to bruise

My heel. O Mother Earth,

Drive hence the beast of monstrous birth!

Hear, Mother Earth! Hearken, O Father Zeus!