Such as no man hath ever elsewhere known,
Nor in far Scythia, nor in Pelops' realm.
Thus I ordain it now, a council-court
Pure and unsullied by the lust of gain,
Sacred and swift to vengeance, wakeful ever
To champion men who sleep, the country's guard.
Thus have I spoken, thus to mine own clan
Commended it for ever. Ye who judge,
Arise take each his vote, mete out the right,
Your oath revering. Lo, my word is said.
[The twelve judges come forward, one by one, to the urns of decision; the first votes; as each of the others follows, the Chorus and Apollo speak alternately.
Chorus.
I rede ye well, beware! nor put to shame,
In aught, this grievous company of hell.
Apollo.
I too would warn you, fear mine oracles—
From Zeus they are,—nor make them void of fruit.
Chorus.
Presumptuous is thy claim, blood-guilt to judge,
And false henceforth thine oracles shall be.
Apollo.
Failed then the counsels of my sire, when turned
Ixion, first of slayers, to his side?
Chorus.
These are but words; but I, if justice fail me,
Will haunt this land in grim and deadly deed.
