Page:The Dramas of Aeschylus (Swanwick).djvu/248

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Be moved by me to stay these heavy groans;

Not vanquished are ye, nor to your disgrace

Fell justice, equal-voted, from the urn.

Besides from Zeus clear oracles were sent,

And he who uttered them himself avouched,

Orestes for this deed should know no scath.

Hurl not your heavy wrath upon this land;

Your rage abate, cause not sterility,

Nor rain your poison-drops, like venomed darts,

Ruthless devourers of each tender germ.

For I most righteously do promise you

Both sanctuaries and shrines in this just land;

Seated at hearths with unctuous off'rings fed,

And held in honour by my lieges here.

1. Ye upstart gods, time-honoured laws

Down-riding, ye have seized my prey.

2. But I, dishonoured, stung by grief,

Woe, woe, my torture to allay,

On all the ground, will cast around

Venom, whose baleful drops shall cause

Where it doth light a sterile blight,

Fatal alike to germ, to leaf.

The pest, O Justice, scouring o'er the plain,

Shall fling abroad its man-destroying stain.

3. I groan anew; what dare? what do?

My pangs the citizens shall rue;

Alas, most wretched are thy daughters, Night!

Enduring this dishonourable slight.