And citizens' hate, and to have popular curses:
Nothing of this against the man here bringing,
Who, no more awe-checked than as 't were a beast's fate,—
With sheep abundant in the well-fleeced graze-flocks,—
Sacrificed his child,—dearest fruit of travail
To me,—as song-spell against Threkian blowings.
Not him did it behoove thee hence to banish
—Pollution's penalty? But hearing my deeds
Justicer rough thou art! Now, this I tell thee:
To threaten thus—me, one prepared to have thee