Page:The Dramas of Aeschylus (Swanwick).djvu/510

440

3rd. Loudly I raise the voice of wail.

4th. Preludes to insult I behold

That me will soon assail.

5th. Hasten, to shelter quickly flee,

6th. Cruel of heart are they, I trow;

Unbearable by land and sea.

7th. Our patron, King! be thou.

Haste to the barque, away, away!

Rendings, ay rendings of the hair,

And cruel stripes I now must bear;

Lopping of heads will come amain,

And murder's gory rain.

Plague on you, to the barque away.

Would that where surging billows rave,

Exulting in thy lordly pride,—

Thou and thy nail-clenched barque beside,

Had perished neath the wave!

Like to a captured run-a-way,

Thee to my stocks I soon will bind.—

Hence, I advise thee, put away

The foolish phrenzy of thy mind.