_Athena._ Thy wrath I'll bear, for thou the elder art, 810 [And wiser too in that respect than I;] Yet to me too Zeus gave no wisdom poor; And ye, if ye an alien country seek, Shall yearn in love for this land. This I tell you; For to this people Time, as it runs on, Shall come with fuller honours, and if thou Hast honoured seat hard by Erechtheus' home, Thou shalt from men and women reap such gifts As thou would'st never gain from other mortals; But in these fields of mine be slow to cast 820 Whetstones of murder's knife, to young hearts bale, Frenzied with maddened passion, not of wine; Nor, as transplanting hearts of fighting-cocks,[538] Make Ares inmate with my citizens, In evil discord, and intestine broils; Let them have war without, not scantily, For him who feels the passionate thirst of fame: Battle of home-bred birds ... I name it not; This it is thine to choose as gift from me; Well-doing, well-entreated, and well-honoured, 830 To share the land best loved of all the Gods. _Chor._ That I should suffer this, fie on it! fie! That I, with thoughts of hoar antiquity, Should now in this land dwell, Dishonoured, deemed a plague, I breathe out rage, and every form of wrath; Ah, Earth! fie on it! fie! What pang is this that thrills through all my breast? Hear thou, O mother Night, Hear thou my vehement wrath! For lo! deceits that none can wrestle with Have thrust me out from honours old of Gods, And made a thing of nought. 840 _Athena._ I will not weary, telling thee of good, That thou may'st never say that thou, being old, Wert at the hands of me, a younger Goddess, And those of men who in my city dwell, Driven in dishonour, exiled from this plain. But if the might of Suasion thou count holy, And my tongue's blandishments have power to soothe, Then thou wilt stay; but if thou wilt not stay, Not justly would'st thou bring upon this city, Or wrath, or grudge, or mischief for its host. It rests with thee, as dweller in this spot,[539] 850 To meet with all due honour evermore. _Chor._ Athena, Queen, what seat assign'st thou me? _Athena._ One void of touch of evil; take thou it. _Chor._ Say I accept. What honour then is mine? _Athena._ That no one house apart from thee shall prosper. _Chor._ And wilt thou work that I such might may have? _Athena._ His lot who worships thee we'll guide aright. _Chor._ And wilt thou give thy warrant for all time? _Athena._ What I work not I might refrain from speaking. _Chor._ It seems thou sooth'st me: I relax my wrath. 860 _Athena._ In this land dwelling thou new friends shalt gain. _Chor._ What hymn then for this land dost bid me raise?