Danaus.Here’s Hermes likewise, as Greece knows the god.n17Chorus.Be he my herald, heralding the free!Danaus.This common altar of these mighty godsAdore: within these holy precincts lodged,Pure doves from hawks of kindred plumage fleeing,Foes of your blood, polluters of your race.Can bird eat bird and be an holy thing?n18Can man be pure, from an unwilling fatherRobbing unwilling brides? Who does these deedsWill find no refuge from lewd guilt in Hades;For there, as we have heard, another JoveHolds final judgment on the guilty shades.But now be ready. Here await their coming;May the gods grant a victory to our prayers!EnterKing.King.Whom speak we here? Whence come? Certes no Greeks.Your tire rich-flaunting with barbaric prideBespeaks you strangers. Argos knows you not,Nor any part of Greece. Strange surely ’tisThat all unheralded, unattended all,And of no host the acknowledged guest, unfearingYe tread this land.n19If these boughs, woolly-wreathed,That grace the altars of the Agonian godsSpeak what to Greeks they should speak, ye are suppliants.Thus much I see: what more remains to guessI spare; yourselves have tongues to speak the truth.Chorus.That we are strangers is most true; but whomSee we in thee? a citizen? a priest?A temple warder with his sacred wand?The ruler of the state?King.Speak with a fearless tongue, and plainly. IOf old earth-born Palæcthon am the son,n20My name Pelasgus, ruler of this land;And fathered with my name the men who reapEarth’s fruits beneath my sway are called Pelasgi;And all the land where Algos flows, and Strymon,n21Toward the westering sun my sceptre holds.My kingdom the Perrhæbians bound, and thoseBeyond high Pindus, by Pæonia, andThe Dodonéan heights; the briny waveCompletes the circling line; within these boundsI rule; but here, where now thy foot is planted,The land is Apia, from a wise physicianOf hoary date so called. He, from Naupactus,Apollo’s son, by double right, physicianAnd prophet both,n22crossed to this coast, and freed itBy holy purifyings, from the plagueOf man-destroying monsters, which the groundWith ancient taint of blood polluted bore.This plague his virtue medicinal healed,That we no more unfriendly fellowshipHold with the dragon-brood. Such worthy serviceWith thankful heart the Argive land received,And Apis lives remembered in her prayers.Of this from me assured, now let me hearYour whence, and what your purpose. Briefly speak;This people hates much phrase.Chorus.Our tale is short.We by descent are Argives, from the seedOf the heifer sprung, whose womb was blest in bearing;And this in every word we can confirmBy manifest proofs.King.That ye are Argives, thisMy ear receives not; an unlikely tale!Like Libyan women rather; not a lineI trace in you that marks our native race.Nile might produce such daughters; ye do bearA Cyprian character in your female features,The impressed likeness of some plastic male.f12Of wandering Indians I have heard, that harnessCamels for mules, huge-striding, dwelling nearThe swarthy Æthiop land; ye may be such;Or, had ye war’s accoutrement, the bow,Ye might be Amazons, stern, husband-hating,Flesh-eating maids. But speak, that I may knowThe truth. How vouch ye your descent from Argos?Chorus.They say that Io, on this Argive ground,Erst bore the keys to Hera,n23then ’tis said,So runs the general rumour—n24King.I have heard.Was it not so, Jove with the mortal maidMingled in love?Chorus.Even so; in love they mingled,Deceiving Hera’s bed.King.And how then endedThe Olympian strife?Chorus.Enraged, the Argive goddessTo a heifer changed the maid.King.And the god cameTo the fair horned heifer?Chorus.Like a leaping bull,Transformed he came;n25so the hoar legend tells.King.And what did then the potent spouse of Jove?Chorus.She sent a watchman ringed with eyes to watch.King.This all-beholding herdsman, who was he?Chorus.Argus the son of Earth, by Hermes slain.King.How further fared the ill-fated heifer, say?Chorus.A persecuting brize was sent to sting her.King.And o’er the wide earth goaded her the brize?Chorus.Just so; thy tale with mine accordant chimes.King.Then to Canopus, and to Memphis came she?Chorus.There, touched by Jove’s boon hand, she bore a son.King.The heifer’s boasted offspring, who was he?Chorus.Epaphus, who plainly with his name declaresHis mother’s safety wrought by touch of Jove.King.* * * *n26Chorus.Libya, dowered with a fair land’s goodly name.King.And from this root divine what other shoots?Chorus.Belus, my father’s father, and my uncle’s.King.Who is thy honoured father?Chorus.Danaus;And fifty sons his brother hath, my uncle.King.This brother who? Spare not to tell the whole.Chorus.Ægyptus. Now, O king, our ancient raceThou knowest. Us from our prostration raising,Thou raisest Argos.King.Argives in sooth ye seem,By old descent participant of the soil;But by what stroke of sore mischance harsh-smitten,Dared ye to wander from your native seats?Chorus.Pelasgian prince, a motley-threaded webIs human woe; a wing of dappled plumes.Past hope and faith it was that we, whose bloodFrom Argive Io flows, to Io’s city,In startled flight, should measure back our way,To escape from hated marriage.King.How say’st thou?To escape from marriage thou art here, displayingThese fresh-cropt branches, snowy-wreathed, beforeThe Agonian gods?Chorus.Ay! Never, never may weBe thralled to Ægyptus’ sons!King.Speak’st thou of hateTo them, or of a bond your laws forbid?Chorus.Both this and that.n27Who should be friends were foes,And blood with blood near-mingled basely flows.King.But branch on branch well grafted goodlier grows.Chorus.Urge not this point; but rather think one wordFrom thee the wretched rescues.King.How then shall IMy friendly disposition show?Chorus.We askBut this—from our pursuers save us.King.What!Shall I for unknown exiles breed a war?Chorus.Justice will fight for him who fights for us.King.Doubtless; if Justice from the first hath stampedYour cause for hers.Chorus.(pointing to the altar)The state’s high poop here crownedRevere.King.This green environment of shade,Mantling the seats of the gods I see, and shudder.Chorus.The wrath of suppliant Joven28is hard to bear.STROPHE I.O hear my cry, benignly hear!Thou son of Palæcthon, hear me!The fugitive wandering suppliant hear!Thou king of Pelasgians, hear me!Like a heifer young by the wolf pursuedn29O’er the rocks so cliffy and lonely,And loudly it lows to the herdsman good,Whose strength can save it only.King.My eyes are tasked; there, ’neath the shielding shadeOf fresh-lopt branches I behold you clingingTo these Agonian gods; but what I doMust spare the state from harm. I must provideThat no unlooked-for unprepared eventBeget new strife; of this we have enough.ANTISTROPHE I.Chorus.Great Jove that allotteth their lot to all,By his sentence of right shall clear thee,Dread Themis that heareth the suppliants’ call,No harm shall allow to come near thee.Though I speak to the old with the voice of the young,Do the will of the gods, and surelyTheir favour to thee justly weighed shall belong,When thy gifts thou offerest purely.King.Not at my hearth with precatory boughsYe lie. The state, if guilty taint from youAffect the general weal, will for the stateTake counsel. I nor pledge nor promise give,Till all the citizens hear what thou shalt say.STROPHE II.Chorus.Thou art the state, and the people art thou,n30The deed that thou doest who judges?The hearth and the altar before thee bow,The grace that thou grantest who grudges?Thou noddest; the will that thou willest is thine,Thy vote with no voter thou sharest;The throne is all thine, and the sceptre divine,And thy guilt, when thou sinnest, thou bearest.King.Guilt lie on those that hate me! but your prayersHarmless I may not hear; and to reject themWere harsh. To do, and not to do alikePerplex me; on the edge of choice I tremble.ANTISTROPHE II.Chorus.Him worship who sitteth a watchman in Heaven,And looks on this life of our labour;Nor looketh in vain, when the wretched is drivenFrom the gate of his pitiless neighbour.On our knees when we fall, and for mercy we call,If his right thou deny to the stranger,Jove shall look on thy home, from his thunder dome,Sternly wrathful, the suppliants’ avenger.King.But if Ægyptus’ sons shall claim you, pleadingTheir country’s laws, and their near kinship, whoShall dare to stand respondent? You must pleadYour native laws, so the laws plead for you,And speak you free from who would force your love.STROPHE III.Chorus.Ah ne’er to the rough-handed youth let me yield,But rather alone, ’neath the wide starry field,Let me wander, an outcast, a stranger!The ill-sorted yoke I abhor: and do thou,With Justice to second thee, judge for me now,And fear Him above, the Avenger!King.Not I shall judge: it is no easy judgment.What I have said, I said. Without the peopleI cannot do this thing;n31being absolute king,I would not. Justly, if mischance shall follow,The popular tongue will blame the ruler, who,To save the stranger, ruined his own flock.ANTISTROPHE III.Chorus.Where kindred with kindred contendeth in war,Jove looks on the strife, and decides from afar,Where he holdeth the scales even-handed;f13O why wilt thou doubt to declare for the right?He blesseth the good, but in anger will smite,Where the sons of the wicked are banded.King.To advise for you in such confounding depths,My soul should be a diver, to plunge downFar in the pool profound with seeing eye,And feel no dizziness. ’Tis no light matterHere to unite your safety and the state’s.If that your kindred claim you as their right,And we withstand, a bloody strife ensues.If from these altars of the gods we tear you,Your chosen refuge, we shall surely bringThe all-destroying god, the stern Alastor,f14To house with us, whom not the dead in HadesCan flee. Is here no cause to ponder well?STROPHE I.Chorus.Ponder well;With thee to dwell,A righteous-minded host receive us!Weary-worn,Exiles lorn,From the godless men that grieve usSave to-day;Nor cast-a-wayHomeless, houseless, hopeless leave us!ANTISTROPHE I.Shall rash assaultersFrom these altarsRudely drag the friendless stranger?Thou art king,’Neath thy wingCowers in vain the weak from danger?Thy terror showTo our fierce foe,Fear, O fear our High Avenger!STROPHE II.Where they seeThe gods and thee,Shall their lawless will not falter?Shall they tearMy floating hair,As a horse dragged by the halter?Wilt thou bearHim to tearMy frontlets fair,My linen robes—the bold assaulter?ANTISTROPHE II.One the danger,If the strangerThou reject, or welcome wisely:For thee and thineTo Mars a fineThou shalt pay the same precisely:From Egypt farFearing war,Thou shalt marThy peace with mighty Jove, not wisely.King.Both ways I’m marred. Even here my wits are stranded.With these or those harsh war to make, strong ForceCompels my will. Nailed am I like a vesselScrewed to the dock, beneath the shipwright’s tool.Which way I turn is woe. A plundered houseBy grace of possessory Joven32may freightNew ships with bales that far outweigh the loss;And a rash tongue that overshoots the markWith barbéd phrase that harshly frets the heart,With one smooth word, may charm the offence away.But ere the sluice of kindred blood be opened,With vows and victims we must pray the godsImportunate, if perchance such fateful harmThey may avert. Myself were little wiseTo mingle in this strife: of such a warMost ignorant is most blest: but may the godsDeceive my fears, and crown your hopes with blessing!Chorus.Now hear the end of my respectful prayers.King.I hear. Speak on. Thy words shall not escape me.Chorus.Thou see’st this sash, this zone my stole begirding.King.Fit garniture of women. Yes; I see it.Chorus.This zone well-used may serve us well.King.How so?Chorus.If thou refuse to pledge our safety, then—King.Thy zone shall pledge it how?Chorus.Thou shalt beholdThese ancient altars with new tablets hung.King.Thou speak’st in riddles. Explain.Chorus.These gods shall see meHere hanging from their shrines.King.Hush, maiden! Hush!Thy words pierce through my marrow!Chorus.Thou hast heardNo blind enigma now. I gave it eyes.King.Alas! with vast environment of illsI’m hedged all round. Misfortune, like a sea,Comes rushing in: the deep unfathomed floodI fear to cross, and find no harbour nigh.Thy prayer if I refuse, black horror risesBefore me, that no highest-pointed aimMay overshoot. If posted fore these wallsI give thy kindred battle, I shall beAmerced with bitter loss, who reckless daredFor woman’s sake to incarnadine the plainWith brave men’s blood. Yet I perforce must fearThe wrath of suppliant Jove, than which no terrorAwes human hearts more strongly. Take these branches,Thou aged father of these maids, and place themOn other altars of the native gods,Where they may speak, true heralds of thy mission,To all the citizens: and, mark me, keepMy words within thy breast: for still the peopleTo spy a fault in whoso bears authorityHave a most subtle sight. Trust your good cause.Thy pitiful tale may move their righteous ireAgainst your haughty-hearted persecutors,And ’neath their wings they’ll shield you. The afflictedPlead for themselves: their natural due is kindness.Danaus.Your worth we know to prize, and at their weightOur high protector’s friendly words we value.But send, we pray, attendant guides to show usThe pillar-compassed seats divine,n33the altarsThat stand before their temples, who protectThis city and this land, and to insureOur safety mid the people: for our coming(Being strangers from the distant Nile, and notLike you that drink the stream of InachusIn features or in bearing) might seem strange.Too bold an air might rouse suspicion; menOft-times have slain their best friends unawares.King.(to the Attendants)See him escorted well! conduct him henceTo the altars of the city, to the shrinesOf the protecting gods, wasting no speechOn whom you meet. Attend the suppliant stranger![Exeunt Attendants withDanaus.Chorus.These words to him: and, with his sails well trimmed,Fair be his voyage! But I, what shall I do,My anchor where?King.Here leave these boughs that proveThy sorrows.Chorus.Here at thy rever’d commandI leave them.King.This ample wood shall shade thee; wait thou here!Chorus.No sacred grove is this: how should it shield me?King.We will not yield thee to the vultures’ claws.Chorus.But worse than vultures, worse than dragons threat us.King.Gently. To fair words give a fair reply.Chorus.I’m terror-struck. Small marvel that I fret.King.Fear should be far, when I the king am near.f15Chorus.With kind words cheer me, and kind actions too.King.Thy father will return anon; meanwhileI go to call the assembly of the people,n34And in thy favour move them, if I can.Thy father, too, I’ll aptly train, how heShould woo their favour. Wait ye here, and prayThe native gods to crown your heart’s desire.I go to speed the business; may PersuasionAnd Chance, with happy issue pregnant, guide me!CHORAL HYMN.STROPHE I.King of all kings, high-blest aboveEach blest celestial nature,Strength of the strong, all-glorious Jove,All crowning Consummator!n35Hear thou our prayer: the proud confound;With hate pursue the hateful,And plunge in purpling pools profoundThe black-bench’d bark, the fateful!ANTISTROPHE I.Our ancient line from thee we traceOur root divinely planted;Look on these sisters with the graceTo that loved maid once granted,Our mother Io; and renewSweet memory in the daughtersOf her thy gentle touch who knewBy Nile’s deep-rolling waters.STROPHE II.Here, even here, where ’mid the browsing kine,My Argive mother fed her eye divine,With rich mead’s flowery store,My Libyan foot I’ve planted; hence by the brizen36Divinely fretted with fitful oar she hiesn37From various shore to shore,God-madded wanderer. Twice the billowy waveShe crossed; and twice her fated name she gaveTo the wide sea’s straitened roar.ANTISTROPHE II.Spurred through the Asian land with swiftest speedShe fled, where Phrygian flocks far-pasturing feed;Then restless travelled o’erMysia, where Teuthras holds his fortress high,Cilician and Pamphylian heights, and nighWhere roaring waters pourFrom fountains ever fresh their torrent floods,And Aphrodite’s land whose loamy roodsSwell with the wheaten store.f16STROPHE III.Thence by her wingéd keeper stung, she speedsTo the land divine, the many-nurturing meads,And to the snow-fed stream,Which like impetuous Typhon,f17vasty poursIts purest waves, that the salubrious shoresFrom pestilent taint redeem.f18Here from harsh Hera’s madly-goading pest,From hattering chase of undeserved unrest,At length by the holy stream.ANTISTROPHE III.She rests. Pale terror smote their hearts who saw.The unwonted sight beheld with startled aweThe thronging sons of Nile;Nor dared to approach this thing of human face,n38Portentous-mingled with the lowing race,Treading the Libyan soil.Who then was he, the brize-stung Io’s friend,With charms of soothing virtue strong to endHer weary-wandering toil?STROPHE IV.Jove, mighty Jove, Heaven’s everlasting king,He soft-inspiring came,And with fond force innocuous heals her ills;She from her eyes in lucent drops distilsThe stream of sorrowful shame,And in her womb from Jove a burden bore,A son of blameless fame,Who with his prosperous life long blessed the Libyan shore.ANTISTROPHE IV.Far-pealed the land with jubilant shout—from Jove,From Jove it surely came,This living root of a far-branching line!For who but Jove prevailed, with power divine,Harsh Hera’s wrath to tame?Such the great work of Jove; and we are such,O Jove, our race who claimFrom him whose name declares the virtue of thy touch.STROPHE V.For whom more justly shall my hymn be chauntedThan thee, above all gods that be, high-vaunted,Root of my race, great Jove;Prime moulder from whose plastic-touching handLife leaps: thine ancient-minded counsels stand,Thou all-devising Jove.ANTISTROPHE V.High-throned above the highest as the lowest,Beyond thee none, and mightier none thou knowest,The unfearing, all-feared one.When his deep thought takes counsel to fulfil,No dull delays clog Jove’s decided will;n39He speaks, and it is done.EnterDanaus.Danaus.Be of good cheer, my daughters! All is well,The popular voice hath perfected our prayers.Chorus.Hail father, bearer of good news: but say,How was the matter stablished? and how farPrevailed the people’s uplifted hands to save us?Danaus.Not doubtingly, but with a bold decision,That made my old heart young again to see’t.With one acclaim, a forest of right handsRose through the hurtled air. These Libyan exiles—So ran the popular will—shall find a homeIn Argos, free, and from each robber handInviolate, the native or the stranger;And, whoso holding Argive land refusesTo shield these virgins from the threatened force,Disgrace shall brand him, and the popular voteOust him from Argos. Such response the kingPersuasive forced, with wise admonishment;Urging the wrath of Jove, which else provokedWould fatten on our woes, and the twin wrongTo you the stranger, and to them the city,Pollution at their gate, a fuel to feedIlls without end. These words the Argive peopleAnswered with suffragating hands, nor waitedThe herald’s call to register their votes:Just eloquence ruled their willing ear, and JoveCrowned their fair purpose with the perfect deed. [Exit.Chorus.Come then, sisters, pour we freelyGrateful prayers for Argive kindness;Jove, the stranger’s friend, befriend us,While from stranger’s mouth sincerestHere we voice the hymn;To a blameless issue, surely,Jove will guide the fate.CHORAL HYMN.STROPHE I.Jove-born gods, benignly bending,Look, we pray, with eyes befriending,On these Argive halls!Ne’er may Mars, the wanton daring,With his shrill trump, joyless-blaring,Wrap, in wild flames, fiercely flaring,These Pelasgian walls!Go! thy gory harvest reapingFar from us: thy bloody weepingDistant tribes may know.Bless, O Jove, this Argive nation!They have heard the supplicationOf thy suppliants low;Where the swooping Fate abased us,They with Mercy’s vote upraised usFrom the prostrate woe!ANTISTROPHE I.Not with the male, the stronger, erring,But, woman’s weaker cause preferring,Stood their virtue proof:Wisely Jove, the Avenger, fearing,To the chastened eye appearing,High his front of wrath up-rearing’Gainst the guilty roof.For heavily, heavily weighs the Alastor,Scapeless, and, with sore disaster,Sinks the sinner low.Bless, O Jove, this Argive nation,That knew their kindred’s supplication,And saved them from the foe:And when their vows they pay, then surelyGifts from clean hands offered purelyThou in grace shalt know.STROPHE II.High these suppliant branches raising,Sisters, ancient Argos praising,Pour the grateful strain!Far from thy Pelasgian portalsDwell black Plague, from drooping mortalsEbbing life to drain!May’st thou see the crimson riverFrom fierce home-bred slaughter, neverFlowing o’er thy plain!Far from thee the youth-consumingBlossom-plucking strife!The harsh spouse of Aphrodite,Furious Mars in murder mighty,Where he sees thy beauty blooming,Spare his blood-smeared knife!ANTISTROPHE II.May a reverend priesthood hoaryBelt thy shrines, their chiefest glory,With an holy band!By the bountiful libation,By the blazing pile, this nationShall securely stand.Jove, the great All-ruler, fearing,Jove, the stranger’s stay, revering,Ye shall save the land;Jove, sure-throned above all cavil,Rules by ancient right,May just rulers never fail thee!Holy Hecate’s aid avail thee,n40To thy mothers when in travailSending labours light!STROPHE III.May no wasting march of ruinWork, O Argos, thine undoing!Never may’st thou hearCries of Mars, the shrill, the lyreless!Ne’er may tearful moans, and quireless,Wake the sleeper’s ear!Far from thee the shapes black-troopingOf disease, delightless-drooping!May the blazing death-winged arrowOf the Sun-god spare the marrowOf thy children dear!ANTISTROPHE III.Mighty Jove, the gracious giver,With his full-sheaved bounty everCrown the fruited year!Flocks that graze before thy dwellingWith rich increase yearly swellingThe prosperous ploughman cheer!May the gods no grace deny thee,And the tuneful Muses nigh thee,With exuberant raptures brimming,From virgin throats thy praises hymningHold the charmèd ear!STROPHE IV.O’er the general weal presiding,They that rule with far-providingWisdom sway, and stably-guiding,Changeful counsels mar!Timely with each foreign nationLeagues of wise conciliationLet them join, fierce wars avoiding,From sharp losses far!ANTISTROPHE IV.The native gods, strong to deliver,With blood of oxen free-poured ever,With laurel-branches failing never,Piously adore!Honour thy parents: spurn not lightlyThis prime statute sanctioned rightly;Cling to this, a holy liver,Steadfast evermore!Re-enterDanaus.Danaus.Well hymned, my daughters! I commend your prayers;But brace your hearts, nor fear, though I, your father,Approach the bearer of unlooked-for news.For from this consecrated hold of godsI spy the ship; too gallantly it peersTo cheat mine eye. The sinuous sail I see,The bulging fence-work on each side,n41the prowFronted with eyes to track its watery way,n42True to the steerman’s hint that sits behind,And with no friendly bearing. On the deckAppear the crew, their swarthy limbs more swartBy snow-white vests revealed: a goodly lineOf succour in the rear: but in the vanThe admiral ship, with low-furled sail makes wayBy the swift strokes of measured-beating oars.Wait calmly ye, and with well-counselled aweCling to the gods; the while ye watch their coming,Myself will hence, and straight return with aidTo champion our need.n43For I must look forSome herald or ambassador claiming you,Their rightful prey, forthwith; but fear ye not,Their harsh will may not be. This warning takeShould we with help be slow, remain you hereNor leave these gods, your strength. Faint not: for surelyComes the appointed hour, and will not stay,When godless men to Jove just fine shall pay.STROPHE I.Chorus.Father, I tremble, lest the fleet-winged ships,Ere thou return, shall land—soon—very soon!O father, I tremble to stay, and not flee,When the bands of the ruthless are near!My flight to foreclose from the chase of my foes!O father, I faint for fear!Danaus.Fear not, my children. The accomplished voteOf Argos saves you. They are champions sworn.ANTISTROPHE I.Chorus.They come—destruction’s minions mad with hate,Of fight insatiate: well thou know’st the men.With their host many-counted, their ships dark-fronted,n44They are near, O father, how near!Their ships stoutly-timbered, their crews swarthy-membered,Triumphant in wrath I fear!Danaus.Even let them come. They’ll find their match in Argos;A strong-limbed race with noon-day sweats well hardened.n45STROPHE II.Chorus.Only not leave me! Pray thee, father, stay!Weak is a lonely woman. No Mars is in her.n46Dark-counselled, false, cunning-hearted are they,Unholy, as obscene crowsOn the feast of the altar that filthily prey;They fear not the gods, my foes!Danaus.’Twill make our cause the stronger, daughters, ifTheir crime be sacrilege, and their foes the gods.ANTISTROPHE II.Chorus.The trident and the sacred blazonryWill not repel their violent hands, O father!They are proud, haughty-hearted, a high-blown race;They are hot, they are mad for the fray!With the hound in their heart, and the dog in their face,They will tear from the altar their prey.Danaus.Dogs let them be, the world has wolves to master them!And good Greek corn is better than papyrus.n47Chorus.Being reasonless as brutes, unholy monsters,And spurred with wrath we must beware their fury.Danaus.’Tis no light work to land a fleet. To findSafe roads, sure anchorage, and to make fastThe cables, this not with mere thought is done.The shepherds of the shipsn48are slow to feelFull confidence, the more that on this coastHarbours are few.n49Besides, thou see’st the sunSlants to the night; and still a prudent pilotFears in the dark. No man will disembark,Trust me, till all are firmly anchored. ThouThrough all thy terrors still cling to the gods,Thy most sure stay. Thy safety’s pledged. For meI’m old, but with the tongue of fluent youthI’ll speak for thee, a pleader without blame. [Exit.CHORAL HYMN.STROPHE I.O hilly land, high-honoured land,What wait we now, poor fugitive band?Some dark, dark caveShow me, within thy winding strand,To hide and save!Would I might vanish in smoke, ascendingTo Heaven, with Jove’s light clouds dim-blending
Danaus.
Here’s Hermes likewise, as Greece knows the god.n17
Chorus.
Be he my herald, heralding the free!
Danaus.
This common altar of these mighty gods
Adore: within these holy precincts lodged,
Pure doves from hawks of kindred plumage fleeing,
Foes of your blood, polluters of your race.
Can bird eat bird and be an holy thing?n18
Can man be pure, from an unwilling father
Robbing unwilling brides? Who does these deeds
Will find no refuge from lewd guilt in Hades;
For there, as we have heard, another Jove
Holds final judgment on the guilty shades.
But now be ready. Here await their coming;
May the gods grant a victory to our prayers!
EnterKing.
King.
Whom speak we here? Whence come? Certes no Greeks.
Your tire rich-flaunting with barbaric pride
Bespeaks you strangers. Argos knows you not,
Nor any part of Greece. Strange surely ’tis
That all unheralded, unattended all,
And of no host the acknowledged guest, unfearing
Ye tread this land.n19If these boughs, woolly-wreathed,
That grace the altars of the Agonian gods
Speak what to Greeks they should speak, ye are suppliants.
Thus much I see: what more remains to guess
I spare; yourselves have tongues to speak the truth.
Chorus.
That we are strangers is most true; but whom
See we in thee? a citizen? a priest?
A temple warder with his sacred wand?
The ruler of the state?
King.
Speak with a fearless tongue, and plainly. I
Of old earth-born Palæcthon am the son,n20
My name Pelasgus, ruler of this land;
And fathered with my name the men who reap
Earth’s fruits beneath my sway are called Pelasgi;
And all the land where Algos flows, and Strymon,n21
Toward the westering sun my sceptre holds.
My kingdom the Perrhæbians bound, and those
Beyond high Pindus, by Pæonia, and
The Dodonéan heights; the briny wave
Completes the circling line; within these bounds
I rule; but here, where now thy foot is planted,
The land is Apia, from a wise physician
Of hoary date so called. He, from Naupactus,
Apollo’s son, by double right, physician
And prophet both,n22crossed to this coast, and freed it
By holy purifyings, from the plague
Of man-destroying monsters, which the ground
With ancient taint of blood polluted bore.
This plague his virtue medicinal healed,
That we no more unfriendly fellowship
Hold with the dragon-brood. Such worthy service
With thankful heart the Argive land received,
And Apis lives remembered in her prayers.
Of this from me assured, now let me hear
Your whence, and what your purpose. Briefly speak;
This people hates much phrase.
Chorus.
Our tale is short.
We by descent are Argives, from the seed
Of the heifer sprung, whose womb was blest in bearing;
And this in every word we can confirm
By manifest proofs.
King.
That ye are Argives, this
My ear receives not; an unlikely tale!
Like Libyan women rather; not a line
I trace in you that marks our native race.
Nile might produce such daughters; ye do bear
A Cyprian character in your female features,
The impressed likeness of some plastic male.f12
Of wandering Indians I have heard, that harness
Camels for mules, huge-striding, dwelling near
The swarthy Æthiop land; ye may be such;
Or, had ye war’s accoutrement, the bow,
Ye might be Amazons, stern, husband-hating,
Flesh-eating maids. But speak, that I may know
The truth. How vouch ye your descent from Argos?
Chorus.
They say that Io, on this Argive ground,
Erst bore the keys to Hera,n23then ’tis said,
So runs the general rumour—n24
King.
I have heard.
Was it not so, Jove with the mortal maid
Mingled in love?
Chorus.
Even so; in love they mingled,
Deceiving Hera’s bed.
King.
And how then ended
The Olympian strife?
Chorus.
Enraged, the Argive goddess
To a heifer changed the maid.
King.
And the god came
To the fair horned heifer?
Chorus.
Like a leaping bull,
Transformed he came;n25so the hoar legend tells.
King.
And what did then the potent spouse of Jove?
Chorus.
She sent a watchman ringed with eyes to watch.
King.
This all-beholding herdsman, who was he?
Chorus.
Argus the son of Earth, by Hermes slain.
King.
How further fared the ill-fated heifer, say?
Chorus.
A persecuting brize was sent to sting her.
King.
And o’er the wide earth goaded her the brize?
Chorus.
Just so; thy tale with mine accordant chimes.
King.
Then to Canopus, and to Memphis came she?
Chorus.
There, touched by Jove’s boon hand, she bore a son.
King.
The heifer’s boasted offspring, who was he?
Chorus.
Epaphus, who plainly with his name declares
His mother’s safety wrought by touch of Jove.
King.
* * * *n26
Chorus.
Libya, dowered with a fair land’s goodly name.
King.
And from this root divine what other shoots?
Chorus.
Belus, my father’s father, and my uncle’s.
King.
Who is thy honoured father?
Chorus.
Danaus;
And fifty sons his brother hath, my uncle.
King.
This brother who? Spare not to tell the whole.
Chorus.
Ægyptus. Now, O king, our ancient race
Thou knowest. Us from our prostration raising,
Thou raisest Argos.
King.
Argives in sooth ye seem,
By old descent participant of the soil;
But by what stroke of sore mischance harsh-smitten,
Dared ye to wander from your native seats?
Chorus.
Pelasgian prince, a motley-threaded web
Is human woe; a wing of dappled plumes.
Past hope and faith it was that we, whose blood
From Argive Io flows, to Io’s city,
In startled flight, should measure back our way,
To escape from hated marriage.
King.
How say’st thou?
To escape from marriage thou art here, displaying
These fresh-cropt branches, snowy-wreathed, before
The Agonian gods?
Chorus.
Ay! Never, never may we
Be thralled to Ægyptus’ sons!
King.
Speak’st thou of hate
To them, or of a bond your laws forbid?
Chorus.
Both this and that.n27Who should be friends were foes,
And blood with blood near-mingled basely flows.
King.
But branch on branch well grafted goodlier grows.
Chorus.
Urge not this point; but rather think one word
From thee the wretched rescues.
King.
How then shall I
My friendly disposition show?
Chorus.
We ask
But this—from our pursuers save us.
King.
What!
Shall I for unknown exiles breed a war?
Chorus.
Justice will fight for him who fights for us.
King.
Doubtless; if Justice from the first hath stamped
Your cause for hers.
Chorus.(pointing to the altar)
The state’s high poop here crowned
Revere.
King.
This green environment of shade,
Mantling the seats of the gods I see, and shudder.
Chorus.
The wrath of suppliant Joven28is hard to bear.
STROPHE I.
O hear my cry, benignly hear!
Thou son of Palæcthon, hear me!
The fugitive wandering suppliant hear!
Thou king of Pelasgians, hear me!
Like a heifer young by the wolf pursuedn29
O’er the rocks so cliffy and lonely,
And loudly it lows to the herdsman good,
Whose strength can save it only.
King.
My eyes are tasked; there, ’neath the shielding shade
Of fresh-lopt branches I behold you clinging
To these Agonian gods; but what I do
Must spare the state from harm. I must provide
That no unlooked-for unprepared event
Beget new strife; of this we have enough.
ANTISTROPHE I.Chorus.
Great Jove that allotteth their lot to all,
By his sentence of right shall clear thee,
Dread Themis that heareth the suppliants’ call,
No harm shall allow to come near thee.
Though I speak to the old with the voice of the young,
Do the will of the gods, and surely
Their favour to thee justly weighed shall belong,
When thy gifts thou offerest purely.
King.
Not at my hearth with precatory boughs
Ye lie. The state, if guilty taint from you
Affect the general weal, will for the state
Take counsel. I nor pledge nor promise give,
Till all the citizens hear what thou shalt say.
STROPHE II.Chorus.
Thou art the state, and the people art thou,n30
The deed that thou doest who judges?
The hearth and the altar before thee bow,
The grace that thou grantest who grudges?
Thou noddest; the will that thou willest is thine,
Thy vote with no voter thou sharest;
The throne is all thine, and the sceptre divine,
And thy guilt, when thou sinnest, thou bearest.
King.
Guilt lie on those that hate me! but your prayers
Harmless I may not hear; and to reject them
Were harsh. To do, and not to do alike
Perplex me; on the edge of choice I tremble.
ANTISTROPHE II.Chorus.
Him worship who sitteth a watchman in Heaven,
And looks on this life of our labour;
Nor looketh in vain, when the wretched is driven
From the gate of his pitiless neighbour.
On our knees when we fall, and for mercy we call,
If his right thou deny to the stranger,
Jove shall look on thy home, from his thunder dome,
Sternly wrathful, the suppliants’ avenger.
King.
But if Ægyptus’ sons shall claim you, pleading
Their country’s laws, and their near kinship, who
Shall dare to stand respondent? You must plead
Your native laws, so the laws plead for you,
And speak you free from who would force your love.
STROPHE III.Chorus.
Ah ne’er to the rough-handed youth let me yield,
But rather alone, ’neath the wide starry field,
Let me wander, an outcast, a stranger!
The ill-sorted yoke I abhor: and do thou,
With Justice to second thee, judge for me now,
And fear Him above, the Avenger!
King.
Not I shall judge: it is no easy judgment.
What I have said, I said. Without the people
I cannot do this thing;n31being absolute king,
I would not. Justly, if mischance shall follow,
The popular tongue will blame the ruler, who,
To save the stranger, ruined his own flock.
ANTISTROPHE III.Chorus.
Where kindred with kindred contendeth in war,
Jove looks on the strife, and decides from afar,
Where he holdeth the scales even-handed;f13
O why wilt thou doubt to declare for the right?
He blesseth the good, but in anger will smite,
Where the sons of the wicked are banded.
King.
To advise for you in such confounding depths,
My soul should be a diver, to plunge down
Far in the pool profound with seeing eye,
And feel no dizziness. ’Tis no light matter
Here to unite your safety and the state’s.
If that your kindred claim you as their right,
And we withstand, a bloody strife ensues.
If from these altars of the gods we tear you,
Your chosen refuge, we shall surely bring
The all-destroying god, the stern Alastor,f14
To house with us, whom not the dead in Hades
Can flee. Is here no cause to ponder well?
STROPHE I.Chorus.
Ponder well;
With thee to dwell,
A righteous-minded host receive us!
Weary-worn,
Exiles lorn,
From the godless men that grieve us
Save to-day;
Nor cast-a-way
Homeless, houseless, hopeless leave us!
ANTISTROPHE I.
Shall rash assaulters
From these altars
Rudely drag the friendless stranger?
Thou art king,
’Neath thy wing
Cowers in vain the weak from danger?
Thy terror show
To our fierce foe,
Fear, O fear our High Avenger!
STROPHE II.
Where they see
The gods and thee,
Shall their lawless will not falter?
Shall they tear
My floating hair,
As a horse dragged by the halter?
Wilt thou bear
Him to tear
My frontlets fair,
My linen robes—the bold assaulter?
ANTISTROPHE II.
One the danger,
If the stranger
Thou reject, or welcome wisely:
For thee and thine
To Mars a fine
Thou shalt pay the same precisely:
From Egypt far
Fearing war,
Thou shalt mar
Thy peace with mighty Jove, not wisely.
King.
Both ways I’m marred. Even here my wits are stranded.
With these or those harsh war to make, strong Force
Compels my will. Nailed am I like a vessel
Screwed to the dock, beneath the shipwright’s tool.
Which way I turn is woe. A plundered house
By grace of possessory Joven32may freight
New ships with bales that far outweigh the loss;
And a rash tongue that overshoots the mark
With barbéd phrase that harshly frets the heart,
With one smooth word, may charm the offence away.
But ere the sluice of kindred blood be opened,
With vows and victims we must pray the gods
Importunate, if perchance such fateful harm
They may avert. Myself were little wise
To mingle in this strife: of such a war
Most ignorant is most blest: but may the gods
Deceive my fears, and crown your hopes with blessing!
Chorus.
Now hear the end of my respectful prayers.
King.
I hear. Speak on. Thy words shall not escape me.
Chorus.
Thou see’st this sash, this zone my stole begirding.
King.
Fit garniture of women. Yes; I see it.
Chorus.
This zone well-used may serve us well.
King.
How so?
Chorus.
If thou refuse to pledge our safety, then—
King.
Thy zone shall pledge it how?
Chorus.
Thou shalt behold
These ancient altars with new tablets hung.
King.
Thou speak’st in riddles. Explain.
Chorus.
These gods shall see me
Here hanging from their shrines.
King.
Hush, maiden! Hush!
Thy words pierce through my marrow!
Chorus.
Thou hast heard
No blind enigma now. I gave it eyes.
King.
Alas! with vast environment of ills
I’m hedged all round. Misfortune, like a sea,
Comes rushing in: the deep unfathomed flood
I fear to cross, and find no harbour nigh.
Thy prayer if I refuse, black horror rises
Before me, that no highest-pointed aim
May overshoot. If posted fore these walls
I give thy kindred battle, I shall be
Amerced with bitter loss, who reckless dared
For woman’s sake to incarnadine the plain
With brave men’s blood. Yet I perforce must fear
The wrath of suppliant Jove, than which no terror
Awes human hearts more strongly. Take these branches,
Thou aged father of these maids, and place them
On other altars of the native gods,
Where they may speak, true heralds of thy mission,
To all the citizens: and, mark me, keep
My words within thy breast: for still the people
To spy a fault in whoso bears authority
Have a most subtle sight. Trust your good cause.
Thy pitiful tale may move their righteous ire
Against your haughty-hearted persecutors,
And ’neath their wings they’ll shield you. The afflicted
Plead for themselves: their natural due is kindness.
Danaus.
Your worth we know to prize, and at their weight
Our high protector’s friendly words we value.
But send, we pray, attendant guides to show us
The pillar-compassed seats divine,n33the altars
That stand before their temples, who protect
This city and this land, and to insure
Our safety mid the people: for our coming
(Being strangers from the distant Nile, and not
Like you that drink the stream of Inachus
In features or in bearing) might seem strange.
Too bold an air might rouse suspicion; men
Oft-times have slain their best friends unawares.
King.(to the Attendants)
See him escorted well! conduct him hence
To the altars of the city, to the shrines
Of the protecting gods, wasting no speech
On whom you meet. Attend the suppliant stranger!
[Exeunt Attendants withDanaus.
Chorus.
These words to him: and, with his sails well trimmed,
Fair be his voyage! But I, what shall I do,
My anchor where?
King.
Here leave these boughs that prove
Thy sorrows.
Chorus.
Here at thy rever’d command
I leave them.
King.
This ample wood shall shade thee; wait thou here!
Chorus.
No sacred grove is this: how should it shield me?
King.
We will not yield thee to the vultures’ claws.
Chorus.
But worse than vultures, worse than dragons threat us.
King.
Gently. To fair words give a fair reply.
Chorus.
I’m terror-struck. Small marvel that I fret.
King.
Fear should be far, when I the king am near.f15
Chorus.
With kind words cheer me, and kind actions too.
King.
Thy father will return anon; meanwhile
I go to call the assembly of the people,n34
And in thy favour move them, if I can.
Thy father, too, I’ll aptly train, how he
Should woo their favour. Wait ye here, and pray
The native gods to crown your heart’s desire.
I go to speed the business; may Persuasion
And Chance, with happy issue pregnant, guide me!
CHORAL HYMN.STROPHE I.
King of all kings, high-blest above
Each blest celestial nature,
Strength of the strong, all-glorious Jove,
All crowning Consummator!n35
Hear thou our prayer: the proud confound;
With hate pursue the hateful,
And plunge in purpling pools profound
The black-bench’d bark, the fateful!
ANTISTROPHE I.
Our ancient line from thee we trace
Our root divinely planted;
Look on these sisters with the grace
To that loved maid once granted,
Our mother Io; and renew
Sweet memory in the daughters
Of her thy gentle touch who knew
By Nile’s deep-rolling waters.
STROPHE II.
Here, even here, where ’mid the browsing kine,
My Argive mother fed her eye divine,
With rich mead’s flowery store,
My Libyan foot I’ve planted; hence by the brizen36
Divinely fretted with fitful oar she hiesn37
From various shore to shore,
God-madded wanderer. Twice the billowy wave
She crossed; and twice her fated name she gave
To the wide sea’s straitened roar.
ANTISTROPHE II.
Spurred through the Asian land with swiftest speed
She fled, where Phrygian flocks far-pasturing feed;
Then restless travelled o’er
Mysia, where Teuthras holds his fortress high,
Cilician and Pamphylian heights, and nigh
Where roaring waters pour
From fountains ever fresh their torrent floods,
And Aphrodite’s land whose loamy roods
Swell with the wheaten store.f16
STROPHE III.
Thence by her wingéd keeper stung, she speeds
To the land divine, the many-nurturing meads,
And to the snow-fed stream,
Which like impetuous Typhon,f17vasty pours
Its purest waves, that the salubrious shores
From pestilent taint redeem.f18
Here from harsh Hera’s madly-goading pest,
From hattering chase of undeserved unrest,
At length by the holy stream.
ANTISTROPHE III.
She rests. Pale terror smote their hearts who saw.
The unwonted sight beheld with startled awe
The thronging sons of Nile;
Nor dared to approach this thing of human face,n38
Portentous-mingled with the lowing race,
Treading the Libyan soil.
Who then was he, the brize-stung Io’s friend,
With charms of soothing virtue strong to end
Her weary-wandering toil?
STROPHE IV.
Jove, mighty Jove, Heaven’s everlasting king,
He soft-inspiring came,
And with fond force innocuous heals her ills;
She from her eyes in lucent drops distils
The stream of sorrowful shame,
And in her womb from Jove a burden bore,
A son of blameless fame,
Who with his prosperous life long blessed the Libyan shore.
ANTISTROPHE IV.
Far-pealed the land with jubilant shout—from Jove,
From Jove it surely came,
This living root of a far-branching line!
For who but Jove prevailed, with power divine,
Harsh Hera’s wrath to tame?
Such the great work of Jove; and we are such,
O Jove, our race who claim
From him whose name declares the virtue of thy touch.
STROPHE V.
For whom more justly shall my hymn be chaunted
Than thee, above all gods that be, high-vaunted,
Root of my race, great Jove;
Prime moulder from whose plastic-touching hand
Life leaps: thine ancient-minded counsels stand,
Thou all-devising Jove.
ANTISTROPHE V.
High-throned above the highest as the lowest,
Beyond thee none, and mightier none thou knowest,
The unfearing, all-feared one.
When his deep thought takes counsel to fulfil,
No dull delays clog Jove’s decided will;n39
He speaks, and it is done.
EnterDanaus.
Danaus.
Be of good cheer, my daughters! All is well,
The popular voice hath perfected our prayers.
Chorus.
Hail father, bearer of good news: but say,
How was the matter stablished? and how far
Prevailed the people’s uplifted hands to save us?
Danaus.
Not doubtingly, but with a bold decision,
That made my old heart young again to see’t.
With one acclaim, a forest of right hands
Rose through the hurtled air. These Libyan exiles—
So ran the popular will—shall find a home
In Argos, free, and from each robber hand
Inviolate, the native or the stranger;
And, whoso holding Argive land refuses
To shield these virgins from the threatened force,
Disgrace shall brand him, and the popular vote
Oust him from Argos. Such response the king
Persuasive forced, with wise admonishment;
Urging the wrath of Jove, which else provoked
Would fatten on our woes, and the twin wrong
To you the stranger, and to them the city,
Pollution at their gate, a fuel to feed
Ills without end. These words the Argive people
Answered with suffragating hands, nor waited
The herald’s call to register their votes:
Just eloquence ruled their willing ear, and Jove
Crowned their fair purpose with the perfect deed. [Exit.
Chorus.
Come then, sisters, pour we freely
Grateful prayers for Argive kindness;
Jove, the stranger’s friend, befriend us,
While from stranger’s mouth sincerest
Here we voice the hymn;
To a blameless issue, surely,
Jove will guide the fate.
CHORAL HYMN.STROPHE I.
Jove-born gods, benignly bending,
Look, we pray, with eyes befriending,
On these Argive halls!
Ne’er may Mars, the wanton daring,
With his shrill trump, joyless-blaring,
Wrap, in wild flames, fiercely flaring,
These Pelasgian walls!
Go! thy gory harvest reaping
Far from us: thy bloody weeping
Distant tribes may know.
Bless, O Jove, this Argive nation!
They have heard the supplication
Of thy suppliants low;
Where the swooping Fate abased us,
They with Mercy’s vote upraised us
From the prostrate woe!
ANTISTROPHE I.
Not with the male, the stronger, erring,
But, woman’s weaker cause preferring,
Stood their virtue proof:
Wisely Jove, the Avenger, fearing,
To the chastened eye appearing,
High his front of wrath up-rearing
’Gainst the guilty roof.
For heavily, heavily weighs the Alastor,
Scapeless, and, with sore disaster,
Sinks the sinner low.
Bless, O Jove, this Argive nation,
That knew their kindred’s supplication,
And saved them from the foe:
And when their vows they pay, then surely
Gifts from clean hands offered purely
Thou in grace shalt know.
STROPHE II.
High these suppliant branches raising,
Sisters, ancient Argos praising,
Pour the grateful strain!
Far from thy Pelasgian portals
Dwell black Plague, from drooping mortals
Ebbing life to drain!
May’st thou see the crimson river
From fierce home-bred slaughter, never
Flowing o’er thy plain!
Far from thee the youth-consuming
Blossom-plucking strife!
The harsh spouse of Aphrodite,
Furious Mars in murder mighty,
Where he sees thy beauty blooming,
Spare his blood-smeared knife!
ANTISTROPHE II.
May a reverend priesthood hoary
Belt thy shrines, their chiefest glory,
With an holy band!
By the bountiful libation,
By the blazing pile, this nation
Shall securely stand.
Jove, the great All-ruler, fearing,
Jove, the stranger’s stay, revering,
Ye shall save the land;
Jove, sure-throned above all cavil,
Rules by ancient right,
May just rulers never fail thee!
Holy Hecate’s aid avail thee,n40
To thy mothers when in travail
Sending labours light!
STROPHE III.
May no wasting march of ruin
Work, O Argos, thine undoing!
Never may’st thou hear
Cries of Mars, the shrill, the lyreless!
Ne’er may tearful moans, and quireless,
Wake the sleeper’s ear!
Far from thee the shapes black-trooping
Of disease, delightless-drooping!
May the blazing death-winged arrow
Of the Sun-god spare the marrow
Of thy children dear!
ANTISTROPHE III.
Mighty Jove, the gracious giver,
With his full-sheaved bounty ever
Crown the fruited year!
Flocks that graze before thy dwelling
With rich increase yearly swelling
The prosperous ploughman cheer!
May the gods no grace deny thee,
And the tuneful Muses nigh thee,
With exuberant raptures brimming,
From virgin throats thy praises hymning
Hold the charmèd ear!
STROPHE IV.
O’er the general weal presiding,
They that rule with far-providing
Wisdom sway, and stably-guiding,
Changeful counsels mar!
Timely with each foreign nation
Leagues of wise conciliation
Let them join, fierce wars avoiding,
From sharp losses far!
ANTISTROPHE IV.
The native gods, strong to deliver,
With blood of oxen free-poured ever,
With laurel-branches failing never,
Piously adore!
Honour thy parents: spurn not lightly
This prime statute sanctioned rightly;
Cling to this, a holy liver,
Steadfast evermore!
Re-enterDanaus.
Danaus.
Well hymned, my daughters! I commend your prayers;
But brace your hearts, nor fear, though I, your father,
Approach the bearer of unlooked-for news.
For from this consecrated hold of gods
I spy the ship; too gallantly it peers
To cheat mine eye. The sinuous sail I see,
The bulging fence-work on each side,n41the prow
Fronted with eyes to track its watery way,n42
True to the steerman’s hint that sits behind,
And with no friendly bearing. On the deck
Appear the crew, their swarthy limbs more swart
By snow-white vests revealed: a goodly line
Of succour in the rear: but in the van
The admiral ship, with low-furled sail makes way
By the swift strokes of measured-beating oars.
Wait calmly ye, and with well-counselled awe
Cling to the gods; the while ye watch their coming,
Myself will hence, and straight return with aid
To champion our need.n43For I must look for
Some herald or ambassador claiming you,
Their rightful prey, forthwith; but fear ye not,
Their harsh will may not be. This warning take
Should we with help be slow, remain you here
Nor leave these gods, your strength. Faint not: for surely
Comes the appointed hour, and will not stay,
When godless men to Jove just fine shall pay.
STROPHE I.Chorus.
Father, I tremble, lest the fleet-winged ships,
Ere thou return, shall land—soon—very soon!
O father, I tremble to stay, and not flee,
When the bands of the ruthless are near!
My flight to foreclose from the chase of my foes!
O father, I faint for fear!
Danaus.
Fear not, my children. The accomplished vote
Of Argos saves you. They are champions sworn.
ANTISTROPHE I.Chorus.
They come—destruction’s minions mad with hate,
Of fight insatiate: well thou know’st the men.
With their host many-counted, their ships dark-fronted,n44
They are near, O father, how near!
Their ships stoutly-timbered, their crews swarthy-membered,
Triumphant in wrath I fear!
Danaus.
Even let them come. They’ll find their match in Argos;
A strong-limbed race with noon-day sweats well hardened.n45
STROPHE II.Chorus.
Only not leave me! Pray thee, father, stay!
Weak is a lonely woman. No Mars is in her.n46
Dark-counselled, false, cunning-hearted are they,
Unholy, as obscene crows
On the feast of the altar that filthily prey;
They fear not the gods, my foes!
Danaus.
’Twill make our cause the stronger, daughters, if
Their crime be sacrilege, and their foes the gods.
ANTISTROPHE II.Chorus.
The trident and the sacred blazonry
Will not repel their violent hands, O father!
They are proud, haughty-hearted, a high-blown race;
They are hot, they are mad for the fray!
With the hound in their heart, and the dog in their face,
They will tear from the altar their prey.
Danaus.
Dogs let them be, the world has wolves to master them!
And good Greek corn is better than papyrus.n47
Chorus.
Being reasonless as brutes, unholy monsters,
And spurred with wrath we must beware their fury.
Danaus.
’Tis no light work to land a fleet. To find
Safe roads, sure anchorage, and to make fast
The cables, this not with mere thought is done.
The shepherds of the shipsn48are slow to feel
Full confidence, the more that on this coast
Harbours are few.n49Besides, thou see’st the sun
Slants to the night; and still a prudent pilot
Fears in the dark. No man will disembark,
Trust me, till all are firmly anchored. Thou
Through all thy terrors still cling to the gods,
Thy most sure stay. Thy safety’s pledged. For me
I’m old, but with the tongue of fluent youth
I’ll speak for thee, a pleader without blame. [Exit.
CHORAL HYMN.STROPHE I.
O hilly land, high-honoured land,
What wait we now, poor fugitive band?
Some dark, dark cave
Show me, within thy winding strand,
To hide and save!
Would I might vanish in smoke, ascending
To Heaven, with Jove’s light clouds dim-blending