Shall embrace my knees, beseeching
Me to unveil the new-forged counsels
That shall hurl him from his throne.[n15]
But no honey-tongued persuasion,
No smooth words of artful charming,
No stout threats shall loose my tongue,
Till he loose these bonds of insult,
And himself make just atonement
For injustice done to me.
ANTISTROPHE II.
Chorus.