To take your stand hard by this hill of Gods
Who rule o'er conflicts.[[220]] Better far than towers
Are altars, yea, a shield impenetrable.
But with all speed approach the shrine of Zeus,
The God of mercy, in your left hand holding
The suppliants' boughs wool-wreathed, in solemn guise,[[221]]
And greet our hosts as it is meet for us,
190
Coming as strangers, with all duteous words
Kindly and holy, telling them your tale