Page:The Dramas of Aeschylus (Swanwick).djvu/413

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Aye ruthless art thou, full of insolence.

Him to bemoan availeth nought;—but thou

Spend not thy strength in toil that profits not.

Alas! my much-detested handicraft!

Why hate thy craft? for, sooth to say, thine art

Is no way guilty of these present woes.

Yet would that it to other hand had fallen.

All save o'er gods to rule, vexatious is,

For none is free, save father Zeus alone.

Too well I know it: answer have I none.

Haste then: around the culprit cast these bonds

Lest father Zeus behold thee loitering.

Behold the shackles ready here for use.