Page:The Dramas of Aeschylus (Swanwick).djvu/86

16 The first and last are victors in the race.

Such is the proof, the warrant that I give

Of tidings sent me by my Lord from Troy.

The gods, queen, will I invoke hereafter.

But now I fain would marvel at thy words,

Heard more at large so thou wouldst speak again.

Troy on this very day th' Achaians hold.

I ween ill-blending clamour fills the town:

Pour in one vessel vinegar and oil,

They will not lovingly consort, I trow;

So now from captives and from captors rise

Two voices, telling of their two-fold fate.

For those, flung prostrate on the lifeless forms

Of husbands and of brothers, children too,

Prone on their aged sires, lamenting wail;

While these, night-stragglers after toilsome fight,

Keen for all viands that the city yields,

Upon no order standing, but as each

Hath snatched the lot of fortune, take their fill.

At length from frost and skiey dews set free,

They dwell in Ilion's spear-won halls, and sleep

The live-long night, unsentinelled like gods.

If now the tutelary powers they fear,

Who hold the conquered land, and spare their shrines,

Captors, they shall not captured be in turn.

But may no greedy passion seize the host