For lo! Ægyptos' house, In pride intolerable, O'er-masculine in mood, Pursuing me in many a winding course, Poor wandering fugitive, With loud and wild desires, Seek in their frenzied violence to seize: 800 But thine is evermore The force that turns the balance of the scale: What comes to mortal men apart from Thee? Ah! ah! ah! ah! *Here on the land behold the ravisher Who comes on us by sea! *Ah, may'st thou perish, ravisher, ere thou Hast stopped or landed here! *I utter cry of wailing loud and long, *I see them work the prelude of their crimes, Their crimes of violence. Ah! ah! Ah me! 810 Haste in your flight for help! The mighty ones are waxing fat and proud, By sea and land alike intolerable. Be thou, O King, our bulwark and defence! _Enter_ Herald _of the sons of_ ÆGYPTOS, _advancing to the daughters of_ DANAOS _Her._ Haste, haste with all your speed unto the barque. _Chor._ Tearing of hair, yea, tearing now will come, And print of nails in flesh, And smiting off of heads, With murderous stream of blood. _Her._ Haste, haste ye, to that barque that yonder lies, 820 Ye wretches, curse on you. STROPHE I _Chor._ Would thou had'st met thy death Where the salt waves wildly surge, Thou with thy lordly pride, In nail-compacted ship: *Lo! they will smite thee, weltering in thy blood, *And drive thee to thy barque. _Her._ I bid you cease perforce, the cravings wild Of mind to madness given. Ho there! what ho! I say; 830 Give up those seats, and hasten to the ship: I reverence not what this State honoureth. ANTISTROPHE I _Chor._ Ah, I may ne'er again Behold the stream where graze the goodly kine, Nourished and fed by which[260] The blood of cattle waxes strong and full! *As with a native's right, *And one of old descent, I keep, old man, my seat, my seat, I say. _Her._ Nay, in a ship, a ship them shalt soon go, 840 With or without thy will, By force, I say, by force: Come, come, provoke not evils terrible, Falling by these my hands. STROPHE II _Chor._ Ah me! ah me! Would thou may'st perish with no hand to help, Crossing the sea's wide plain, In wanderings far and wide, Where Sarpedonian sand-bank[261] spreads its length, Driven by the sweeping blasts! _Her._ Sob thou, and howl, and call upon the Gods: 850 Thou shalt not 'scape that barque from Ægypt come, Though thou should'st pour a bitterer strain of grief. ANTISTROPHE II