Page:Suppliant Maidens (Morshead) 1883.djvu/32

18 Of loathly wedlock, would on Argos' shore

Set forth a race of kindred lineage?

But say, what cravest thou, with olive-shoots

New-plucked, white-filleted, upon our shrines?

Ne'er to be slaves unto Ægyptus' race.

Doth your own hate, or doth the law forbid?

Not as our lords, but as unloved, we chide them.

'Tis from such wedlock that advancement comes.

How easy is it, from the weak to turn!

Say then, what Heaven commands me toward you.

Deny us, though Ægyptus' race demand.

A heavy task thou namest, a rash war.