STROPHE II. Would I were throned in ether high, Where snows are born, and through the sky The white rack skurries! Would that I Might sit sublime On a hanging cliff where lone winds sigh,[n50] Where human finger never showed The far-perched vultures' drear abode, Nor goat may climb! {244} Thence sheer to leap, and end for ever My life and name, Ere forceful hands this heart deliver To married shame! ANTISTROPHE II. There, where no friendly foot may stray, There let me lie, my limbs a prey To dogs and birds: I not gainsay: 'Twas wisely said, Free from much woe who dies to-day Shall be to-morrow. Rather than wedded To whom I hate, let me be bedded Now with the dead! Or if there be, my life to free, A way, declare it, Ye gods!--a surgeon's cut for me, My heart shall bear it! STROPHE III. Voice ye your sorrow! with the cry Of doleful litany pierce the sky! For freedom, for quick rescue cry To him above! Ruler of Earth, look from thy throne, With eyes of love! These deeds of violence wilt thou own, Nor know thy prostrate suppliant's groan, Almighty Jove? ANTISTROPHE III. Ægyptus' sons, a haughty race, Follow my flight with sleepless chase, With whoop and bay they scent my trace To force my love. Thy beam is true; both good and ill Thy sure scales prove, Thou even-handed! Mortals still Reap fair fulfilment from thy will, All-crowning Jove. [CHORUS, _in separate voices, and short hurried exclamations:_[n51] VOICE 1. Ah me! he lands! he leaps ashore! He strides with ruffian hands to hale us! {245} VOICE 2. Cry, sisters, cry! swift help implore! If here to cry may aught avail us! VOICE 3. Ah me! 'tis but the muffled roar Of forceful storms soon to assail us! VOICE 1. Flee to the gods! to the altars cling! VOICE 2. By sea, by land, the ruthless foe Grimly wantons in our woe! VOICE 3. Beneath thy wing shield us, O king! [_Enter_ HERALD. HERALD. Hence to the ships! to the good ships fare ye![n52] Swiftly as your feet may bear ye! CHORUS. Tear us! tear us! Rend us rather, Torture and tear us! From this body Cut the head! Gorily gather Us to the dead! HERALD. Hence to the ships, away! away! A curse on you, and your delay! O'er the briny billowy way Thou shalt go to-day, to-day! Wilt thou stand, a mulish striver, I can spur, a forceful driver; Deftly, deftly, thou shalt trip To the stoutly-timbered ship! If to yield thou wilt not know, Gorily, gorily thou shalt go! An' thou be not madded wholly, Know thy state, and quit thy folly! CHORUS. Help, ho! help, ho! help! HERALD. To the ships! to the ships away with me! These gods of Argos what reck we?