I from the root thy guilty race will tear, 340 And give the nations to the waste of war. Adrastus soon, with gods averse, shall join In dire alliance with the Theban line; Hence strife shall rise, and mortal war succeed; The guilty realms of Tantalus shall bleed: Fix'd is their doom. This all-remembering breast Yet harbours vengeance for the tyrant's feast.' He said; and thus the queen of heaven return'd: (With sudden grief her labouring bosom burn'd) 'Must I, whose cares Phoroneus' towers defend, 350 Must I, O Jove! in bloody wars contend? Thou know'st those regions my protection claim, Glorious in arms, in riches, and in fame: Though there the fair Egyptian heifer fed, And there deluded Argus slept and bled: Though there the brazen tower was storm'd of old, When Jove descended in almighty gold! Yet I can pardon those obscurer rapes, Those bashful crimes disguised in borrow'd shapes; But Thebes, where, shining in celestial charms, 360 Thou cam'st triumphant to a mortal's arms, When all my glories o'er her limbs were spread, And blazing lightnings danced around her bed; Cursed Thebes the vengeance it deserves may prove-- Ah! why should Argos feel the rage of Jove? Yet since thou wilt thy sister-queen control, Since still the lust of discord fires thy soul, Go, raze my Samos, let Mycene fall, And level with the dust the Spartan wall; No more let mortals Juno's power invoke, 370 Her fanes no more with Eastern incense smoke, Nor victims sink beneath the sacred stroke! But to your Isis all my rights transfer, Let altars blaze and temples smoke for her; For her, through Egypt's fruitful clime renown'd, Let weeping Nilus hear the timbrel sound. But if thou must reform the stubborn times, Avenging on the sons the fathers' crimes, And from the long records of distant age Derive incitements to renew thy rage; 380 Say, from what period then has Jove design'd To date his vengeance? to what bounds confined? Begin from thence, where first Alpheus hides His wandering stream, and through the briny tides Unmix'd to his Sicilian river glides. Thy own Arcadians there the thunder claim, Whose impious rites disgrace thy mighty name; Who raise thy temples where the chariot stood Of fierce Oenomaues, defiled with blood; Where once his steeds their savage banquet found, 390 And human bones yet whiten all the ground. Say, can those honours please? and canst thou love Presumptuous Crete, that boasts the tomb of Jove? And shall not Tantalus's kingdoms share Thy wife and sister's tutelary care? Reverse, O Jove! thy too severe decree, Nor doom to war a race derived from thee; On impious realms and barbarous kings impose Thy plagues, and curse them with such sons[57] as those.'