Bow down thine heart to my relief--
A fugitive, a suppliant, swift with fear,
A creature whom the wild wolves chase
O'er toppling crags; in piteous case
Aloud, afar she lows,
Calling the herdsman's trusty arm to save her from her foes!
A fugitive, a suppliant, swift with fear,
A creature whom the wild wolves chase
O'er toppling crags; in piteous case
Aloud, afar she lows,
Calling the herdsman's trusty arm to save her from her foes!
Aeschylus
THE KING OF ARGOS
Then to Canopus and to Memphis came she?
CHORUS
And by Zeus' hand was touched, and bare a child.
THE KING OF ARGOS
Who vaunts him the Zeus-mated creature's son?
CHORUS
Epaphus, named rightly from the saving touch.
THE KING OF ARGOS
And whom in turn did Epaphus beget? [4]
[Footnote: 4: Here one verse at least has been lost. The conjecture
of Bothe seems to be verified, as far as substance is concerned, by
the next line, and has consequently been adopted. ]
CHORUS
Libya, with name of a wide land endowed.
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
Revere the gods thus crowned, who steer the State.
THE KING OF ARGOS
Awe thrills me, seeing these shrines with leafage crowned.
CHORUS
Yea, stern the wrath of Zeus, the suppliants' lord.
Child of Palaichthon, royal chief
Of thy Pelasgians, hear!
Bow down thine heart to my relief--
A fugitive, a suppliant, swift with fear,
A creature whom the wild wolves chase
O'er toppling crags; in piteous case
Aloud, afar she lows,
Calling the herdsman's trusty arm to save her from her foes!
THE KING OF ARGOS
Lo, with bowed heads beside our city shrines
Ye sit 'neath shade of new-plucked olive-boughs.
Our distant kin's resentment Heaven forefend!
Let not this hap, unhoped and unforeseen,
Bring war on us: for strife we covet not.
CHORUS
Justice, the daughter of right-dealing Zeus,
Justice, the queen of suppliants, look down,
That this our plight no ill may loose
Upon your town!
This word, even from the young, let age and wisdom learn:
If thou to suppliants show grace,
Thou shalt not lack Heaven's grace in turn,
So long as virtue's gifts on heavenly shrines have place.
THE KING OF ARGOS
Not at my private hearth ye sit and sue;
And if the city bear a common stain,
Be it the common toil to cleanse the same:
Therefore no pledge, no promise will I give,
Ere counsel with the commonwealth be held.
CHORUS
Nay, but the source of sway, the city's self, art thou,
A power unjudged! thine, only thine,
To rule the right of hearth and shrine!
Before thy throne and sceptre all men bow!
Thou, in all causes lord, beware the curse divine!
THE KING OF ARGOS
May that curse fall upon mine enemies!
I cannot aid you without risk of scathe,
Nor scorn your prayers--unmerciful it were.
Perplexed, distraught I stand, and fear alike
The twofold chance, to do or not to do.
CHORUS
Have heed of him who looketh from on high,
The guard of woeful mortals, whosoe'er
Unto their fellows cry,
And find no pity, find no justice there.
Abiding in his wrath, the suppliants' lord
Doth smite, unmoved by cries, unbent by prayerful word.
