Chor. Not yet; a sorry seer might know thus much.
Nurse. What say'st thou? Know'st thou aught besides my tale?
Chor. Go tell thy message; do thine errand well:
The Gods for what they care for, care enough.
Nurse. I then will go, complying with thy words:
May all, by God's gift, end most happily!
Strophe I
Chor. Now to my prayer, O Father of the Gods
770
Of high Olympos, Zeus,