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Now thou hast bound me, thou wretch, and thinkest

To take me from this coast, where thou didst cast me

Outlawed and desolate, a corpse ’mongst men.

Oh!

I curse thee now, as ofttimes in the past:

But since Heaven yields me nought but bitterness,

Thou livest and art blithe, while ’tis my pain

To live on in my misery, laughed to scorn

By thee and Atreus’ sons, those generals twain

Whom thou art serving in this chase. But thou

With strong compulsion and deceit was driven

Troyward, whilst I, poor victim, of free will

Took my seven ships and sailed there, yet was thrown

Far from all honour,—as thou sayest, by them,

But, as they turn the tale, by thee.—And now

Why fetch me hence and take me? To what end?

I am nothing, dead to you this many a year.

How, O thou Heaven-abhorred! am I not now

Lame and of evil smell? how shall ye vaunt

Before the gods drink-offering or the fat

Of victims, if I sail among your crew?

For this, as ye professed, was the chief cause

Why ye disowned me. Perish!—So ye shall,

For the wrong done me, if the Heavens be just.

And that they are, I know. Else had ye ne’er

Sailed on this errand for an outcast wretch,

Had they not pricked your heart with thoughts of me.

Oh, if ye pity me, chastising powers,

And thou, the Genius of my land, revenge,

Revenge this crime on all their heads at once!

My life is pitiable; but if I saw

Their ruin, I would think me well and strong.

. How full of bitterness is his resolve,

Wrathfully spoken with unbending will!

I might speak long in answer, did the time

Give scope, but now one thing is mine to say.

I am known to vary with the varying need;

And when ’tis tried, who can be just and good,

My peer will not be found for piety.

But though on all occasions covetous