_Strophe IV: change of rhythm; movements to the left of Orchestra._ So when he himself had harnessed To the yoke of Fate unbending, With a blast of strange new feeling Sweeping o'er his heart and spirit, Aweless, godless and unholy, He his thoughts and purpose altered To full measure of all daring, (Still base counsel's fatal frenzy, Wretched primal source of evils, Gives to mortal hearts strange boldness,) And at last his heart be hardened His own child to slay as victim, Help in war that they were waging To avenge a woman's frailty, Victim for the good ship's safety. {219} _Antistrophe IV: back to Altar._ All her prayers and eager callings On the tender name of Father, All her young and maiden freshness, They but set at naught, those rulers, In their passion for the battle. And her father gave commandment To the servants of the Goddess, When the prayer was o'er, to lift her, Like a kid, above the altar, In her garments wrapt, face downwards,-- Yea, to seize with all their courage, And that o'er her lips of beauty Should be set a watch to hinder Words of curse against the houses, With the gag's strength silence-working. _Strophe V: Altar to Sight of Orchestra._ And she upon the ground Pouring rich folds of veil in saffron dyed, Cast at each one of those who sacrificed A piteous glance that pierced Fair as a pictured form, And wishing,--all in vain,-- To speak; for oftentimes In those her father's hospitable halls She sang, a maiden pure with chastest song, And her dear father's life That poured its threefold cup of praise to God, Crowned with all choicest good, She with a daughter's love Was wont to celebrate. {238} _Antistrophe V: Back to Altar._ What then ensued mine eyes Saw not, nor may I tell, but Calchas' arts Were found not fruitless. Justice turns the scale For those to whom through pain At last comes wisdom's gain. But for our future fate, Since help for it is none, Good-bye to it before it comes, and this Has the same end as wailing premature; For with to-morrow's dawn It will come clear; may good luck crown our fate! So prays the one true guard, Nearest and dearest found, Of this our Apian land. {248} EPISODE I