Half-Chor. A. Now, now, at last, ye Gods of Zeus begotten,[[251]]
Hear, as I pour my prayers upon their race,
That ne'er may this Pelasgic city raise
From out its flames the joyless cry of War,
War, that in other fields
Reapeth his human crop:
For they have mercy shown,
And passed their kind decree,
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Pitying this piteous flock, the suppliants of great Zeus.