By all revered, marshal of naval hosts;—
Her thus I signalize, their hearts to prick
Who here have mission to decide this cause.
Chorus.
A father's death Zeus honours,—so thou sayest,— 610
Yet he his father, aged Kronos, chained:—
How prove this deed not adverse to thy word?
Here I invoke you, judges, to give heed.
Apollo.
Oh hateful progeny, of Heaven abhorred!
Fetters he might unloose,—this ill hath cure,
And yields to many a method of release.
But when the dust hath once the blood sucked up
Of murdered man, he riseth never more.
No charm for that, my father hath ordained,
Who all things else upturneth as he will, 610
Nor with the toil panteth his mighty heart.
Chorus.
Beware of voting for this man's escape.
Shall he, a mother's kindred blood who shed,
Dwell safe in Argos, in his father's house?
What altars of his people may he touch?
How share the lustral water with his tribe?
Apollo.
Thus I declare, learn ye how just my words.
Not mother of her so-called child is she,
Who bears it;—she is but the embryo's nurse;
He who begets is parent; she for him, 610
