For now around the town
The wave of warriors bearing slopèd crests,
With blasts of Ares rushing, hoarsely sounds:
110
But thou, O Zeus! true father of us all,
Ward off, ward off our capture by the foe.
Strophe I
For Argives now surround the town of Cadmos,
And dread of Ares' weapons falls on us;
And, bound to horses' mouths,