SEMICHOR. Is this any one here appearing in the path?—Who is this rustic that is standing about thy palace?
ELEC. We are undone then, my friends; he will immediately show to the enemy the lurking beasts of prey armed with their swords.
SEMICHOR. Be not afraid, the path is clear, which thou thinkest not.
ELEC. But what?—does all with you remain secure? Give me some good report, whether the space before the hall be empty?
SEMICHOR. All here at least is well, but look to thy province, for no one of the Danaids is approaching toward us.
SEMICHOR. Thy report agrees with mine, for neither is there a disturbance here.
ELEC. Come now,—I will listen at the door: why do ye delay, ye that are within, to sacrifice the victim, now that ye are in quiet?—They hear not: Alas me! wretched in misery! Are the swords then struck dumb at her beauty? Perhaps some Argive in arms rushing in with the foot of succor will approach the palace.—Now watch more carefully; it is no contest that admits delay; but turn your eyes some this way, and some that.
CHOR. I turn each different way, looking about on all sides.
HELEN. (within) Oh! Pelasgian Argos! I am miserably slain!
ELEC. Heard ye? The men are employing their head in the murder.—It is the shriek of Helen, as I may conjecture.