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With all things else: man's every scheme
Is treachery.
Even with gods faith finds no place. 415 (413)
But fame turns too: our life shall have renown:
Honour shall come to woman's race,
And envious fame no more weigh women down.
CHORUS.
Antistrophe I.
No more the staled songs shall be heard
Of muses hymning our deceit; 420 (421)
For Phœbus not on us conferred
The lyre heaven-sweet
Lest we a counter strain should sing
Against the race of men: but ages old
Have in their keeping many a thing 425 (428)
Not of us only but of men to unfold.
CHORUS.
Strophe II.
And thou, grown mad at heart, didst come,
Sailed hither from thy father's home,
