Parodos
[Choral]
In God’s name, brings you from your post
HECTOR.
With no clear tale to speak,
To spread this turmoil through a host
That lies in harness—do ye all
20
Know nothing?—out against the wall
And gateways of the Greek?
CHORUS.
To arms! To arms, Lord Hector!—Send
First where the allied armies lie,
Bid them draw sword and make an end
25
Of sleep.—Let someone fly
And get the horses’ armour on!—
Who goes with me to Panthoös’ son?—
Who’s for Sarpêdon and the Lycians?—None
Hath seen the priestP. 5, 1. 30, The priest.]—He would be needed to make the sacrifice before battle. go by?—
30
Ho, Captain of the Runners, ho!—
Ho, Trojans of the hornèd bow!
String, string! For need is nigh.
HECTOR.
Ha, silence there! . . .
Then comfort. All an empty swell!
