But when in haste man presses on, the god still keeps beside him.
A fount of ills for all my friends seems now to be discovered;
All this my son through ignorance hath wrought and youthful daring, 740
Who Hellè's sacred tide, forsooth, as it had been his vassal,
And Bosporos, the stream of god, did hope to curb with fetters;
The current fashioned he anew, and hammer-beaten shackles
Casting around, for mighty host achieved a mighty causeway.
Though mortal, all the gods he thought, infatuate, to master,
Ay, e'en Poseidon; was not this sheer frenesy of spirit
That held my son? In fear I am lest all the ample treasure
My toil amassed, become to men the spoil of the first comer.
Atossa.
Converse with evil-minded men hath taught impetuous Xerxes
Such lessons; for thy spear, they say, won for thy sons vast riches, 750
While he, through cowardice of soul, his spear at home still wieldeth,
Thus adding nothing to the wealth bequeathed him by his father.
