The oar-blade deftly to the timing-cry. 1405
Nearer the rocks—yet nearer—came the bark.
Then of us some rushed wading through the sea,
And some held nooses ready for the cast.[1]
And straightway hitherward I sped to thee,
To tell to thee, O King, what there befell. 1410
On then! Take with thee chain and cord in hand.
For, if the sea-swell sink not into calm,
Hope of deliverance have the strangers none.
The sea's Lord, dread Poseidon, graciously
Looketh on Ilium, wroth with Pelops' line, 1415
And now shall give up Agamemnon's son
To thine hands and thy people's, as is meet,
With her who, traitress to the Goddess proved,
That sacrifice in Aulis hath forgot.
Chorus.
Woe is thee, Iphigeneia! With thy brother 1420
Caught in the tyrant's grasp shalt thou be slain!
Thoas.
What ho! ye citizens of this my land,
Up, bridle ye your steeds!—along the shore
Gallop! The stranding of the Hellene ship
Await ye there, and, with the Goddess' help, 1425
Make speed to hunt yon impious caitiffs down.
And ye, go hale my swift keels to the wave,
That, both by sea and coursing steeds on land,
These we may take, and down the rugged crag
