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Ill wouldst thou bear, methinks, my agonies,

To whom it is not fore-ordained to die,

For death would be releasement from my pangs.

But now there is no limit to my woes,

Before that Zeus from sovereignty be hurled.

How! Shall Zeus ever be from empire hurled?

Thou wouldest joy, methinks, such hap to see.

How should I not who suffer ill from Zeus?

That thus it shall be it is thine to learn.

By whom despoiled of his imperial sway?

Spoiled by himself and his own senseless plans.

But how? Declare, if telling bring no harm.

Wedlock contracting he shall one day rue.

Divine, or human? If permitted, speak.