My ill fortune for thy servitude,
For better, I think, to serve this rock
Than be the faithful messenger of Father Zeus.
Thus to insult the insulting it is fit.
Her. Thou seem'st to enjoy thy present state.
Pr. I enjoy? Enjoying thus my enemies
Would I see; and thee 'mong them I count.
Her. Dost thou blame me for aught of thy misfortunes?
Pr. In plain words, all gods I hate,
As many as well treated wrong me unjustly.