POLYMESTOR:Shit.
Nothing is credible, not a good reputation
Nor that one who is lucky will not do badly in the end.
The gods churn these waters up back and forth
Mixing in confusion so that we worship them
In our ignorance.

[ΠΟΛΥΜΉΣΤΩΡ:φεῦ·
οὐκ ἔστιν οὐδὲν πιστόν, οὔτ᾿ εὐδοξία
οὔτ᾿ αὖ καλῶς πράσσοντα μὴ πράξειν κακῶς.
φύρουσι δ᾿ αὐτὰ θεοὶ πάλιν τε καὶ πρόσω
ταραγμὸν ἐντιθέντες, ὡς ἀγνωσίᾳ
σέβωμεν αὐτούς.]

Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist

Hecuba [Hekabe; Ἑκάβη], l. 956ff (c. 424 BC) [tr. @sentantiq (2020)]
    (Source)

King Polymestor's entrance, lamenting to Hecuba that her city, Troy, has fallen, and her daughter as been sacrificed by the conquering Greeks. The lament is ironic, as he himself (secretly, he believes) killed Polydorus, Hecuba and Priam's youngest son, in order to steal the Trojan treasure left for his inheritance. This play is all about Hecuba's bloody (and justified?) revenge upon him and his children for this betrayal.

(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:

Alas! there's nought
To be relied on; fame is insecure.
Nor can the prosperous their enjoyments guard
Against a change of Fortune, for the Gods
Backward and forward turn her wavering wheel,
And introduce confusion in the world.
That we, because we know not will happen,
May worship them.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]

Alas! there is nothing secure, neither glory, nor when one is faring well is there a certainty that he will not fare ill. But the Gods mingle these things promiscuously to and fro, making all confusion, so that we through ignorance may worship them.
[tr. Edwards (1826)]

Nought is there man may trust, nor high repute,
Nor hope that weal shall not be turned to woe:
But the Gods all confound, hurled forth and back,
Turmoiling them, that we through ignorance
May worship them.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]

Ah! there is nothing to be relied on; fair fame is insecure, nor is there any guarantee that prosperity will not be turned to woe. For the gods confound our fortunes, tossing them to and fro, and introduce confusion, so that our perplexity may make us worship them.
[tr. Coleridge (1938)]

What can we take on trust
in this uncertain life? Happiness, greatness,
pride -- nothing is secure, nothing keeps.
The inconsistent gods make chaos of our lives,
pitching us about with such savagery of change
that we, out of our anguish and uncertainty',
may turn to them.
[tr. Arrowsmith (1958)]

Misfortune, misfortune.
No one and nothing can be trusted,
Neither a good name nor good deed.
The gods play their games with us
We're here for their sport.
We worship them in our ignorance.
[tr. McGuinness (2004)]

Aaaahh! Nothing can be trusted, city and good name or that a man's good luck can't turn out bad. The gods stir life together back and forth adding confusion to the mix so we'll revere the gods out of uncertainty at what comes next.
[tr. Harrison (2005)]

Alas! There is no certainty in this world. Neither in one’s good name nor in one’s present fortune. No one can be certain that good fortune will not be replaced by bad. Such things are turned upside-down by the gods, sowing confusion so that we may, in our ignorance, worship them.
[tr. Theodoridis (2007)]

Oh, what can we count on in this life? Nothing, I say!
Not reputation or good fortune. The gods make it all
pitch and yaw, back and forth, until we’re seasick
and confused enough to worship them.
[tr. Karden/Street (2011)]