Fate to give my daughter to any of her early suitors;
so sang gods and men alike. Conquered by my love for
you, conquered by the ties of kindred and the sorrow of
my weeping queen, I set all pledges at naught, I snatched
the bride from her plighted husband. I drew the unhallowed 5
sword. From that fatal day you see what troubles,
what wars are let loose upon me; you know the weight of
the sufferings which you are the first to feel. Twice vanquished
in a mighty conflict, we scarce protect by our bulwarks