Page:The Dramas of Aeschylus (Swanwick).djvu/229

Rh And Fame proclaims with heavy groan,

The doom, like murky cloud, that wraps a house o'erthrown.

For such Fate's decree:—awful ministers we,—

Keen-eyed to conceive what untired we achieve;

Of crime ever mindful, obdurate to prayer,

Apart from the gods our loathed mission we bear;—

To living and dead, 'neath our sunless torch-ray,

Dark and rugged our way.

Who then without fear among mortals can hear

My Fate-sanctioned law, and who quail not with awe,

Mine office thus learning, my god-given right?

For not with dishonour I wield my dread might,

Although my hoar mission, in darkness profound,

I hold 'neath the ground.

A voice I heard from far Scamander's banks

Invoking me, what time the land I claimed,—

Fair portion of the booty, spear-achieved,

Which chiefs and leaders of Achaia's host

Apportioned, root and branch, for ever mine,

To Theseus' sons a chosen heritage.

Thence have I come, urging unwearied feet

Of prime young coursers harnessed to my car;

My swelling Ægis rustling, without wings.

And now, beholding here these uncouth guests,