Be gone, and to the verge of madness drive
Thine impious house. Be drawn the deadly sword25
To every crime upraised, by every hand;
Of angry passions let there be no end,
No shame of strife; let blinded fury's sting
Prick on their souls; seared by the breath of rage
May parents' hearts grow hard, and endless crime
To childrens' children drag its impious trail.
No time be given to hate their former crimes;
But let the new in quick succession rise,30