STROPHE IV. Jove, mighty Jove, Heaven's everlasting king, He soft-inspiring came, {237} And with fond force innocuous heals her ills; She from her eyes in lucent drops distils The stream of sorrowful shame, And in her womb from Jove a burden bore, A son of blameless fame, Who with his prosperous life long blessed the Libyan shore. ANTISTROPHE IV. Far-pealed the land with jubilant shout--from Jove, From Jove it surely came, This living root of a far-branching line! For who but Jove prevailed, with power divine, Harsh Hera's wrath to tame? Such the great work of Jove; and we are such, O Jove, our race who claim From him whose name declares the virtue of thy touch. STROPHE V. For whom more justly shall my hymn be chaunted Than thee, above all gods that be, high-vaunted, Root of my race, great Jove; Prime moulder from whose plastic-touching hand Life leaps: thine ancient-minded counsels stand, Thou all-devising Jove. ANTISTROPHE V. High-throned above the highest as the lowest, Beyond thee none, and mightier none thou knowest, The unfearing, all-feared one. When his deep thought takes counsel to fulfil, No dull delays clog Jove's decided will;[n39] He speaks, and it is done. [_Enter_ DANAUS. DANAUS. Be of good cheer, my daughters! All is well, The popular voice hath perfected our prayers. CHORUS. Hail father, bearer of good news: but say, How was the matter stablished? and how far Prevailed the people's uplifted hands to save us? DANAUS. Not doubtingly, but with a bold decision, That made my old heart young again to see't. With one acclaim, a forest of right hands Rose through the hurtled air. These Libyan exiles-- So ran the popular will--shall find a home {238} In Argos, free, and from each robber hand Inviolate, the native or the stranger; And, whoso holding Argive land refuses To shield these virgins from the threatened force, Disgrace shall brand him, and the popular vote Oust him from Argos. Such response the king Persuasive forced, with wise admonishment; Urging the wrath of Jove, which else provoked Would fatten on our woes, and the twin wrong To you the stranger, and to them the city, Pollution at their gate, a fuel to feed Ills without end. These words the Argive people Answered with suffragating hands, nor waited The herald's call to register their votes: Just eloquence ruled their willing ear, and Jove Crowned their fair purpose with the perfect deed. [_Exit._ CHORUS. Come then, sisters, pour we freely Grateful prayers for Argive kindness; Jove, the stranger's friend, befriend us, While from stranger's mouth sincerest Here we voice the hymn; To a blameless issue, surely, Jove will guide the fate.