Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1898) v3.djvu/159

Rh But if one gently yield him to their stress,

Slacken the sheet, and watch the season due,

Their storm might spend its force. When lulls the blast,

Lightly thou mightest win thy will of them.

In them is ruth, high spirit is in them—

A precious thing to whoso bides his time.

Now Tyndareus and the city will I seek

To sway to temperance in their stormy mood.

A ship, if one have strained the mainsheet taut,

Dips deep; but rights again, the mainsheet eased.

For Heaven hateth over-vehemence,

And citizens hate. I ought, I grant, to save thee—

By wisdom, not defiance of the strong.

I cannot—as thou haply dream'st—by force

Save thee. How should I with my single spear

Triumph o'er all the ills that compass thee?

To move this land of Argos to relent

Never we stooped yet!—now is bitter need

That prudent men be bondmen unto fate.

[Exit.

O nothing-worth—save in a woman's cause

To lead a host!—craven in friends' defence!

Turn'st from me?—fleest?—are Agamemnon's deeds