Page:The Dramas of Aeschylus (Swanwick).djvu/103

Rh And loves with honest worth to dwell.

Gold-spangled palaces with hands unclean,

Forsaking with averted eyes,

To holy Innocence she flies.

The power of wealth, if falsely stamped with praise,

With homage she disdains to recognize,

And to their fated issue all things sways.

[Enter warriors and captives; at last appears, seated on a chariot, with  at his side; soon after Clytemnestra, accompanied by female attendants, issues from the palace.]

Hail, royal lord! Stormer of Ilion, hail!

Scion of Atreus! How compose my speech,

How due obeisance render thee,

Yet neither overshoot the mark, nor fail

The goal of fitting compliment to reach?

For many men, transgressing right, there be

Semblance who place above reality.

To him who groans beneath affliction's smart,

All men have prompt condolence; but the sting

Of feignèd sorrow reaches not the heart.

So men with others' joy rejoicing, bring

Over their visage an enforcèd smile:

But the discerning shepherd knows his flock,

And his unerring glance detects their guile,

Who simulating love, with glozing art

And watery kindness fawn, but inly mock.

But thou, O King, (I speak without disguise,)