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THE SUPPLIANT MAIDENS.
17
The King of Argos.
And who from her was born unto the race?
Chorus.
Belus: from him two sons, my father one.
The King of Argos.
Speak now to me his name, this greybeard wise.
Chorus.
Danaus; his brother fifty sons begat.
The King of Argos.
Grudge not, in telling, his name too to tell.
Chorus.
Ægyptus: thou my lineage old hast heard—
Strive then to aid a kindred Argive band.
The King of Argos.
Yea of a truth, in backward scope of time,
Of Argive race ye seem: but say what chance
Fell on you, goading you from home and land?
Chorus.
Lord of Pelasgian men, calamity
Is manifold and diverse; as of birds
Feather from feather differs, so of men
The woes are sundry. Who had dared foretell
This sudden flight, this thrill of hate and fear
