Of Hellas echoes, to a stranger host!
Let not the free-born Theban bend the neck,
To slavery thralled, beneath a tyrant’s yoke!
Be ye our strength! our common cause we plead;
A prosperous state hath cause to bless the gods. [Exit.
I.
The Chorus[n5] enter the scene in great hurry and agitation.
O wailing and sorrow, O wailing and woe!
Their tents they have left, many-banded they ride,
And onward they tramp with the prance of pride,
The horsemen of the foe.