Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1898) v3.djvu/493

Rh Of Euxine, with my Thracian host to cross.

There upon Scythia's soil great blood-gouts dripped

From spears, of Thracian slaughter blent with Scythian.

Such was the chance that barred my journeying

To Troyland's plains to be thy battle-aid.

I smote them, took their sons for hostages,

Set them a yearly tribute to mine house,

Straight sailed across the sea-gorge, and am here.

I passed afoot the borders of thy land,

Not, as thou proudly tauntest, with deep draughts

Of wine, nor lying soft in golden halls:

But what the icy storm-blasts are that sweep

Paionian steppes and Thracian sea, I learnt

By sleepless suffering, wrapped but in this cloak.

Late is my coming, timely none the less;

For ten full years hast thou been warring now,

Yet hast achieved nought, dost from day to day

Against the Argives cast the dice of war.

But for me one sun's dawning shall suffice

To storm their towers, to fall upon their fleet,

And slay the Achaians. So, thy toils cut short,

From Ilium on the morrow home I pass.

Of you let no man lift in hand a shield:

I ruining with my spear will still the vaunts

Of yon Achaians, howso late I come.

Hail to thee! welcome thy shout is, our champion from Zeus and our friend!

Only may Zeus the most highest forgive thee thy vaunt, and defend

Thee from the malice of jealousy, her with whom none may contend!