I had grasped a spear, this fellow's yellow hair
I had dashed with blood, that, seeing with craven eyes
My lance, he had fled beyond the Atlantic bourn! 235
Chorus.
Lo, cannot brave men find occasion still
For speech, how slow soe'er one be of tongue?
Lykus.
Rail on at me with words up-piled as towers:
I will for words requite on thee ill deeds.
(To attendant) Ho! bid my woodmen go—to Helicon these, 240
Those to Parnassus' folds, and hew them logs
Of oak; and, when these into Thebes are brought,
On either side the altar billets pile,
And kindle; so the bodies of all these
Burn ye, that they may know that not the dead 245
Ruleth the land, but now am I king here.
And ye old men which set yourselves against
My purpose, not for Herakles' sons alone
Shall ye make moan, but for your homes' affliction,
Fast as blows fall, and so shall not forget 250
That ye are bondslaves of my princely power.
Chorus.
O brood of Earth, whom Arês sowed of yore,
What time he stripped the dragon's ravening jaws,
Will ye not lift the props of your right hands,
Your staves, and dash with blood the impious head 255
Of yon man, who, though no Kadmeian he,
