DANAUS. Look you, not swiftly puts a fleet to sea, Nor swiftly to its moorings; long it is Or e’er the saving cables to the shore Are borne, and long or e’er the steersmen cry, _The good ship swings at anchor—all is well_. Longest of all, the task to come aland Where haven there is none, when sunset fades In night. _To pilot wise_, the adage saith, _Night is a day of wakefulness and pain_. Therefore no force of weaponed men, as yet Scatheless can come ashore, before the bank Lie at her anchorage securely moored. Bethink thee therefore, nor in panic leave The shrine of gods whose succour thou hast won I go for aid—men shall not blame me long, Old, but with youth at heart and on my tongue. [_Exit DANAUS._] CHORUS. O land of hill and dale, O holy land, What shall befall us? whither shall we flee, From Apian land to some dark lair of earth? O would that in vapour of smoke I might rise to the clouds of the sky, That as dust which flits up without wings I might pass and evanish and die! I dare not, I dare not abide: my heart yearns, eager to fly; And dark is the cast of my thought; I shudder and tremble for fear. My father looked forth and beheld: I die of the sight that draws near. And for me be the strangling cord, the halter made ready by Fate, Before to my body draws nigh the man of my horror and hate. Nay, ere I will own him as lord, as handmaid to Hades I go! And oh, that aloft in the sky, where the dark clouds are frozen to snow, A refuge for me might be found, or a mountain-top smooth and too high For the foot of the goat, where the vulture sits lonely, and none may descry The pinnacle veiled in the cloud, the highest and sheerest of all, Ere to wedlock that rendeth my heart, and love that is loveless, I fall! Yea, a prey to the dogs and the birds of the mount will I give me to be,— From wailing and curse and pollution it is death, only death, sets me free: Let death come upon me before to the ravisher’s bed I am thrust; What champion, what saviour but death can I find, or what refuge from lust? I will utter my shriek of entreaty, a prayer that shrills up to the sky, That calleth the gods to compassion, a tuneful, a pitiful cry, That is loud to invoke the releaser. O father, look down on the fight; Look down in thy wrath on the wronger, with eyes that are eager for right. Zeus, thou that art lord of the world, whose kingdom is strong over all, Have mercy on us! At thine altar for refuge and safety we call. For the race of Aegyptus is fierce, with greed and with malice afire; They cry as the questing hounds, they sweep with the speed of desire. But thine is the balance of fate, thou rulest the wavering scale, And without thee no mortal emprise shall have strength to achieve or prevail.