Foretelling facts? If so, then I await,
Not trembling, but proudly, the decrees of an unerring fate.
Let him depart: I scorn the traitor, Jove —
The parracide: still blacker grow his sails;
Favor his bark, Poseidon; Eölus, bestow him flavoring gales:
So swifter comes my vengeance. For the tears
He made me shed, make him rain tears of fire,
As from this desolate isle I point him to the cold corpse of his sire.
And if the links of love’s decaying chain
Remain united in his hollow heart,