14
Dread are the humours of princes: as wont
To be ruled in few things and in many to lord,
It is hard to them to turn from their wrath.
But to lead one's life in the level ways
Is best. Be it mine then to pass to old age
If no way high placed yet calmly secure. 124 (124)
For there's vantage just in speaking the name
Of the golden mean: and to have it and hold
Is past all best for man. But too high-pitched luck
Stands no mortal in stead at the time of need;
Nay, more, when the god is stirred to his wrath,
Dowers greater curse on the house. 130 (130)
Chorus.
I heard the voice, nay heard the shriek
Of the hapless Colchian dame.
Is she not calmed? Old matron, speak—
For through the double portals came
A voice of wail and woe. 135 (135)
Nor, women, is it mine to share
Joy at this house's now despair,
My friend from long ago.
