200
Then was it, in my fear,
I prayed the Blessed Ones to guard our city.
Eteoc. Pray that our towns hold out 'gainst spear of foes.[[88]]
Chor. Do not the Gods grant these things?
Eteoc. Nay the Gods,
So say they, leave the captured city's walls.[[89]]
Strophe II
Chor. Ah! never in my life
May all this goodly company of Gods