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AESCHYLUS
vv. 162–182

—These be the deeds ye do, ye Gods of the younger race:
Ye break the Law at your will; your high throne drips with gore,
The foot is wet and the head. There is blood in the Holy Place!
The Heart of Earth uplifteth its foulness in all men's face,
Clean nevermore, nevermore!

—Blood, thou holy Seer, there is blood on thy burning hearth.
Thine inmost place is defiled, and thine was the will and the word.
Thou hast broken the Law of Heaven, exalted the things of Earth;
The hallowed Portions of old thine hand hath blurred.

—Thou knowest to hurt my soul; yea, but shalt save not him.
The earth may open and hide, but never shall he be freed.
Defiling all he goes, there where in exile dim
Many defilers more wait and bleed.


Enter Apollo.

Apollo.

Avaunt, I charge you! Get ye from my door!
Darken this visionary dome no more!
Quick, lest ye meet that snake of bitter wing

That leaps a-sudden from my golden string,

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