_Chorus:_ Where lies the home of our captivity? On Thessaly's famed mountain heights? Where Tempe's dusky shade invites? 815 Or Phthia, sturdy warriors' home, Or where rough Trachin's cattle roam? Iolchos, mistress of the main, Or Crete, whose cities crowd the plain? 820 Where frequent flow Mothone's rills, Beneath the shade of Oete's hills, Whence came Alcides' fatal bow Twice destined for our overthrow? 825 But whither shall our alien course be sped? Perchance to Pleuron's gates we go, Where Dian's self was counted foe; Perchance to Troezen's winding shore, The land which mighty Theseus bore; Or Pelion, by whose rugged side Their mad ascent the giants tried. Here, stretched within his mountain cave, 830 Once Chiron to Achilles gave The lyre, whose stirring strains attest The warlike passions of his breast. 835 What foreign shore our homeless band invites? Must we our native country deem Where bright Carystos' marbles gleam? Where Chalcis breasts the heaving tide, And swift Euripus' waters glide? Perchance unhappy fortune calls 840 To bleak Gonoëssa's windswept walls; Perchance our wondering eyes shall see Eleusin's awful mystery; 845 Or Elis, where great heroes strove To win the Olympic crown of Jove. 850 Then welcome, stranger lands beyond the sea! Let breezes waft our wretched band, Where'er they list, to any land; If only Sparta's curséd state (To Greeks and Trojans common fate) And Argos, never meet our view, And bloody Pelops' city too; 855 May we ne'er see Ulysses' isle, Whose borders share their master's guile. But thee, O Hecuba, what fate, What land, what Grecian lord await? 860 ACT IV [_Enter_ Helen.]