Page:Sophocles - Seven Plays, 1900.djvu/225

491–519]

I will not, in a bootless strife ’gainst Heaven,

Augment my misery with self-sought ill.

Come, go we in, that thou may’st bear from me

Such message as is meet, and also carry

Gifts, such as are befitting to return

For gifts new-given. Thou ought’st not to depart

Unladen, having brought so much with thee.

[Exeunt

Victorious in her might,

The Queen of soft delight

Still ranges onward with triumphant sway.

What she from Kronos’ son

And strong Poseidon won,

And Pluto, King of Night, I durst not say.

But who, to earn this bride,

Came forth in sinewy pride

To strive, or e’er the nuptial might be known

With fearless heart I tell

What heroes wrestled well,

With showering blows, and dust in clouds upthrown.

One was a river bold,

Horn-crowned, with tramp fourfold,

Bull Achelòüs, Acarnania’s Fear;

And one from Bacchus’ town,

Own son of Zeus, came down,

With brandished mace, bent bow, and barbèd spear.

Who then in battle brunt,

Together, front to front,

Hurled, eager both to win the beauteous prize;

And Cypris ’mid the fray

Alone, that dreadful day,

Sate umpire, holding promise in her eyes.

Then clashed the fist, then clanged the bow;

Then horns gave crashing blow for blow,

Whilst, as they clung,