Page:Four Plays of Aeschylus (Cookson).djvu/21

Rh Then with all speed ascend; and with you take

In solemn ceremonial your wands

Wound with white favours that appeal to Zeus,

The God of Mercy. To these foreign lords

Answering in such wise as shall move their mercy,

With lamentations and all forms of speech

Proper to your necessity, and fit

For strangers in a strange land, plainly tell

The story of your flight, and how from blood

'Tis wholly free. Let nought of boldness wait

On your discourse: nothing of light or vain

Be seen, but downward looks, untroubled eyes:

Not forward in the telling of your tale,

Nor hanging back: 'tis easy to offend

The race that dwelleth here. Never forget

Your cue is to submit: ye come as poor

And needy suitors, aliens and exiles.

Bold speech consorts not with the weaker side.

Father, thy cautions find us well disposed

To prudent counsels, and thy wise precepts

I shall with all solicitude obey.

Zeus, our progenitor, watch over us.

Stay not: lay hold upon the means at hand.

I will be with you instantly. O Zeus,

Pity us, or we perish.

[They ascend the hill.]