Page:The Tragedies of Aeschylus - tr. Potter - 1812.pdf/84

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 * When Io's miseries meet my eyes,
 * What horrors in my soul arise!

Her virgin bosom, harb'ring high intent,
 * In man delights not, and his love disdains;

Hence the dire pest by wrathful Juno sent,
 * Her wide wild wand'rings hence, and agonizing pains.


 * And love within my humbler sphere:

Hence my soul rests in peace secure from fear,
 * Secure from danger's threat'ning rage.
 * Me may the pow'rs that rule the sky
 * Ne'er view with love's resistless eye:

Ah, never be th' unequal conflict mine,
 * To strive with their inextricable love:

Might not my heart against itself combine?
 * Or how escape the pow'rful arts of Jove?

Yet shall this Jove, with all his self-will'd pride,

Learn humbler thoughts, taught by that fatal marriage,

Which from the lofty throne of sovereign rule

Shall sink him to a low and abject state,

And on his head fulfil his father's curse,

The curse of Saturn, vented in that hour

When from his ancient royalty he fell.

Of all the gods not one, myself except,

Can warn him of his fate, and how to shun

Th impending ruin. I know all, and how.

Let him then sit, and glorying in his height

Roll with his red right hand his vollied thunder

Falsely secure, and wreath his bick'ring flames.

Yet nought shall they avail him, nor prevent

His abject and dishonourable fall.

Such rival adversary forms he now