Danaus.
My children, this shall nothing profit them:
That which provokes in you resentful thoughts
Shall work the wrath of the immortal Gods.
Chorus.
Father, they fear no tridents: neither can
Arrow or thunderbolt restrain their hands.
They are too much swollen with their own conceit
For awe to sway them; and in violent pride
Have run too far to stay their reckless feet
For aught that preacheth from, these holy bounds:
But like a pack of disobedient hounds
They would not hear, though all the Gods should chide.
Danaus.
Ay, but three dogs are not a match for one
Gray wolf: nor can the byblus-fruit compare
With wheaten corn.
Chorus.
They are as savage beasts,
All fury and all lust and all uncleanness;
We must defend ourselves against their attack
As quickly as we may.
Danaus.
Nay, there is time:
Fleets neither set sail nor are brought to anchor
All in a moment: nor, when anchors hold,
Are they who shepherd ships so quick to moor
And trust their safety to a cable's stretch.
And least of all when they have come to a land
That hath no haven, and night draweth on.
