place of sanctuary. For a host, he says, is approaching; and whether their coming be friendly or hostile, it is well to await it under the immediate protection of the gods. He warns them, too, how to bear themselves towards the strangers; to tell their tale simply and modestly;
"And be not prompt to speak
Nor full of words; the race that dwelleth here
Of this is very jealous: and be mindful
Much to concede; a fugitive thou art,
A stranger and in want, and 'tis not meet
That those in low estate high words should speak."
Then they all ascend to the stage, and group themselves there under the statues which decorate the temple front. The scene is a striking one. Their limbs are dark, and their robes and veils are chiefly white, though varied with rich embroidery of gold and purple, and in their hands they bear branches of myrtle wreathed about with festoons of white wool, the well-known badge of the suppliant; and as the sunshine streams in upon them, with contrast of bright light and deep shadow, the whole group stands out in intense relief of black and white, with a strange and fascinating distinctness. At their father's bidding they offer prayers to each of the great gods in turn, those "gods of contest" who presided over the great games of Greece, to Zeus, Apollo, Neptune or Poseidon, and to Hermes or Mercury, the herald and guide. These prayers are scarcely completed when the king Pelasgus, with his chariot and his train, comes on the scene. "Whence," he asks, "is this strange company,
