Page:The Tragedies of Aeschylus - tr. Potter - 1812.pdf/85

Rh Against himself, prodigious in his might,

And unassailable; whose rage shall roll

Flames that surpass his lightnings, fiercer bolts

That quash his thunders; and from Neptune's band

Dash his trined mace, that from the bottom stirs

The troubled sea, and shakes the solid earth.

Crush'd with this dreadful ruin shall he learn

How different, to command, and to obey.

Thy ominous tongue gives utterance to thy wish.

It is my wish, and shall be ratified.

What, shall high Jove bend to a greater lord?

And to a yoke more galling stoop his neck.

Dost thou not scar, vaunting this bold discourse?

What shou'd I fear, by Fate exempt from death?

But he may add fresh tortures to thy pain.

Let him then add them, I await them all.

Wise they, who reverence the stern pow'r of vengeance.

Go then, with prompt servility fall down

Before your lord, fawn, cringe, and sue for grace.

For me, I value him at less than nothing.

Let him exert his brief authority,

And lord it whilst he may; his pow'r in Heav'n

Shall vanish soon, nor leave a trace behind,

But see, his messenger hastes on amain,

Th' obsequious lackey of this new-made morarch:

He comes, I ween, the bearer of fresh tidings.

To thee grown old in craft, deep drench'd in gall,

Disgustful to the gods, too prodigal

Of interdicted gifts to mortal man,

Thief of the fire of Heav'n, to thee my message.

My father bids thee say what nuptials these

Thy tongue thus vaunts as threat'ning his high pow'r;

And clearly say, couch'd in no riddling phrase,