418
The Suppliants.
Chorus.
Us yield not, when Ægyptos' sons demand.
King.
Grave the request new war to undertake.
Chorus.
But patron to her champion Justice stands.
King.
True, if at first I had a party been.
Chorus.
Revere the city's stern thus garlanded.[1]
King.
With awe these seats I mark shaded with boughs. 340
Chorus.
Grievous the wrath of Zeus, the suppliant's god.
Chorus. Strophe I.
Son of Palaechthon, hear!
With heart benign hear me, Pelasgic king.
Me suppliant mark, exile lone-wandering;
Like heifer, wolf-chased, that on rocky height
Loweth, confiding in assistance near,
The herdsman warning of her dismal plight.
King.
By boughs new-culled o'ershadow'd, I behold
- ↑ Reference is made to the statues of the Agonian gods as pilots of the state.
