Yes, one may say, 'tis Zeus whose blow they feel; This one may clearly trace: They fared as He decreed: Yea, one there was who said, 360 “The Gods deign not to care for mortal men[298] By whom the grace of things inviolable Is trampled under foot.” No fear of God had he: *Now is it to the children manifest[299] Of those who, overbold, Breathed rebel War beyond the bounds of Right, Their houses overfilled with precious store *Above the golden mean. *Ah! let our life be free from all that hurts, 370 So that for one who gains Wisdom in heart and soul, That lot may be enough. Since still there is no bulwark strong in wealth Against destruction's doom, For one who in the pride of wantonness Spurns the great altar of the Right and Just. ANTISTROPHE I Him woeful, subtle Impulse urges on, Resistless in her might, Atè's far-scheming child: All remedy is vain. It is not hidden, but is manifest, That mischief with its horrid gleaming light; 380 And, like to worthless bronze,[300] By friction tried and tests, It turns to tarnished blackness in its hue: Since, boy-like, he pursues A bird upon its flight, and so doth bring Upon his city shame intolerable: And no God hears his prayer, But bringeth low the unjust, Who deals with deeds like this. Thus Paris came to the Atreidæ's home, 390 And stole its queen away, And so left brand of shame indelible Upon the board where host and guest had sat. STROPHE II She, leaving to her countrymen at home Wild din of spear and shield and ships of war, And bringing, as her dower, To Ilion doom of death, Passed very swiftly through the palace gates, Daring what none should dare; And many a wailing cry They raised, the minstrel prophets of the house, “Woe for that kingly home! Woe for that kingly home and for its chiefs! 400 Woe for the marriage-bed and traces left Of wife who loved her lord!” *There stands he silent; foully wronged and yet *Uttering no word of scorn,[301] *In deepest woe perceiving she is gone; And in his yearning love For one beyond the sea, A ghost shall seem to queen it o'er the house; The grace of sculptured forms[302] Is loathèd by her lord, And in the penury of life's bright eyes All Aphroditè's charm To utter wreck has gone. ANTISTROPHE II