Whet thine arrows, born of Leto,
Leto’s daughter bend thy bow!
IV.
The Litany is here interrupted by the noise of the besiegers storming the city, and is continued in a hurried irregular manner.
Chorus 1.
I hear the dread roll of the chariots of war!
Tutti.
O holy Hera!
Chorus 2.
And the axles harsh-creaking with dissonant jar!
Tutti.