No indirect or distant claim on me,
But mine own life; for he that slew the king
May one day turn his guilty hand ’gainst me
With equal rage. In righting Laius, then,
I forward mine own cause.—Now, children, rise
From the altar-steps, and lift your suppliant boughs,
And let some other summon to this place
All Cadmus’ people, and assure them, I
Will answer every need. This day shall see us
Blest with glad fortune through God’s help, or fallen.
Pr. Rise then, my children. Even for this we came
Which our good lord hath promised of himself.
Only may Phoebus, who hath sent this word,
With healing power descend, and stay the plague.
[Exeunt severally
Chorus (entering).
Kind voice of Heaven, soft-breathing from the height I 1
Of Pytho’s opulent home to Thebè bright,
What wilt thou bring to-day?
Ah, Delian Healer, say!
My heart hangs on thy word with trembling awe:
What new-giv’n law,
Or what returning in Time’s circling round
Wilt thou unfold? Tell us, immortal sound,
Daughter of golden Hope, tell us, we pray, we pray!
First, child of Zeus, Pallas, to thee appealing, I 2
Then to sweet Artemis, thy sister, kneeling,
Who with benignant hand
Still guards our sacred land,
Throned o’er the circling mart that hears her praise,
And thou, whose rays
Pierce evil from afar, ho! come and save,
Ye mighty three! if e’er before ye drave
The threatening fire of woe from Thebè, come to-day!
For ah! the griefs that on me weigh II 1
Are numberless; weak are my helpers all,
