In flattery never on thy child or thee. 460
What if thou be in Sparta some great one?
Even so in Troy was I. Am I brought low?
Boast not herein:—thine hour shall haply come.
Chorus.
(Str. 1)
Never rival brides blessed marriage-estate,
Neither sons not born of one mother:
They were strife to the home, they were anguish of hate.
For the couch of the husband suffice one mate:
Be it shared of none other. 470
(Ant. 1)
Never land but hath borne a twofold yoke
Of kings with wearier straining:
There is burden on burden, and feud mid her folk:
And 'twixt rival lyres ever discord broke
By the Muses' ordaining.
(Str. 2)
When the blasts hurl onward the staggering sail,
Shall the galley by helmsmen twain be guided? 480
Shall the wisdom of many in counsel avail
As the purpose untrammelled, the strength undivided?
Even this in the home, in the city, is power
Unto such as have wit to discern the hour.
(Ant. 2)
The child of the chieftain of Sparta's array
Hath proved it. As fire is her jealousy burning:
Troy's hapless daughter she lusteth to slay,
And her son, in her hatred's vengeance-yearning. 490
Godless and lawless and heartless it is!—
Queen, thou shalt yet be requited for this.
