And step-mother of ships. And they shall lead the
Upon thy way, and with a right good will.
Then shalt thou come to the Cimmerian Isthmus,
Even at the pass and portals of the sea,
And leaving it behind thee, stout of heart,
Cross o'er the channel of Maeotis' lake.
For ever famous among men shall be
The story of thy crossing, and the strait
Be called by a new name, the Bosporus,
In memory of thee. Then having left
Europa's soil behind thee thou shalt come
To the main land of Asia. What think ye?
Is not the only ruler of the Gods
A complete tyrant, violent to all,
Respecting none? First, being himself a God,
He burneth to enjoy a mortal maid,
And then torments her with these wanderings.
A sorry suitor for thy love, poor girl,
A bitter wooing. Yet having heard so much
Thou art not even in the overture
And prelude of the song.
Alas! Oh! Oh!
Thou dost cryout, fetching again deep groans:
What wilt thou do when thou hast heard in full
The evils yet to come?
And wilt thou tell
The maiden something further: some fresh sorrow?
A stormy sea of wrong and ruining.
What does it profit me to live! Oh, why
Do I not throw myself from this rough crag
And in one leap rid me of all my pain?
Better to die at once than live, and all
My days be evil.
Thou would'st find it hard
To bear what I must bear: for unto me
It is not given to die,-a dear release
From pain; but now of suffering there is
No end in sight till Zeus shall fall.
Zeus fall? His power be taken from him?
No matter when if true-
'Twould make thee happy
Methinks, if thou could'st see calamity
How should it not when all my woes
Are of his sending? learn how
These things shall be.
The tyrant's rod?
And fond imaginings.
But how? Oh, speak,
If the declaring draw no evil down I
A marriage he shall make shall vex him sore.