The King of the Pelasgians in our cause
Wrought on his auditors: with warning voice
He spake of the hereafter, lest the realm
Feed fat the wrath of Zeus, the Suppliant's God;
We came as fugitives and foreigners,
As citizens we were received; two claims
Conjoinéd in our persons, which, denied,
Would work two-fold contagion, and raise up
Before the city-gates a monster, fed
On sorrow, yet whose craw grief cannot cram.
Then they stayed not to hear the marshal's cry
But on a show of hands would have it so.
It was the voice of the Pelasgians' King
That moved them, suppling the persuasive word,
But Zeus determined what the end should be.
Chorus.
Oh come! Let us render
Recompense fair!
A token and tender
Of thanks, and a prayer
That good things be showered upon Argos.
Benediction and laud and honour
In hymns to her praises sung
Shall surely be doubled upon her;
For dear is an alien tongue
To Zeus, who cares for the stranger
And governs the counsels of Kings;
To an end free from harm and danger
May he lead our thanksgivings,
With good gifts shed upon Argos.
