O mother Earth! O Earth! O mother mine!
Avert that cry of fear,
O Zeus, thou king! O son of mother Earth!
Her. If some one yield not, and to yon ship go,
The hand that tears her tunic will not pity.
Strophe IV
Chor. Ho! rulers of the State!
880
Ye princes! I am seized.
Her. It seems, since ye are slow to hear my words,