Page:The Dramas of Aeschylus (Swanwick).djvu/100

30 Of Zeus, not willing yet the race to whelm,)

Good hope there is that he may yet return.

Hearing this tale, know, thou the truth hast heard.

Who, oh who, with truest aim,

Did the battle-wedded dame,

Prize of conflict, Helen name?

Was it not one, unseen, in happy hour,

Guiding his tongue with Fate-presaging power?

Helen, the captor;—titled fittingly,—

Captor of ships, of men, of cities, she

From dainty curtained bower hath fled,

By Titan zephyr borne along;

Straight in her quarrel mustered strong

The shielded hunters' mighty throng,

Marshalled for battle;—forth they sped,

Swift on their track whose viewless oar

Harbour had found on Simois' leafy shore.

Wrath, with direful issue fraught,

Thus to hapless Ilion brought

Dear alliance, dearly bought:

Requiter of the outraged festal board,

And of high Zeus, the hearth's presiding Lord;

Late vengeance wreaking on the guilty throng,

Who carol jubilant the bridal song,

Which, fate-impelled, the bridegroom's kin prolong.

But aged Priam's city hoar

A novel hymn doth now intone,

From many a voice; with mighty groan,