_Chor._ I fear, my father, since the swift-winged ships
Are come, and very short the time that's left.
A shuddering anguish makes me sore afraid,
Lest small the profit of my wandering flight.
I faint, my sire, for fear.
_Dan._ My children, since the Argives' vote is passed,
Take courage: they will fight for thee, I know. 720