Chorus
Keep a holy silence, you who inhabit the double clashing
[125]
rocks of the Black Sea!
O daughter of Leto, Dictynna of the mountains, to your hall, to the golden walls of your temple with beautiful pillars,
[130]
I, the servant of the holy key-holder, bend my holy virgin steps. For I have left the towers and walls of Hellas, famous for horses, and
[135]
Europe with its forests, my father's home.
I have come. What is the news? What is troubling you? Why have you brought me, brought me to the shrine, you who are the daughter of Atreus' son, master of a thousand ships and ten thousand soldiers,
[140]
who came to the towers of Troy with a famous fleet?