No, nor allow thee!—None but only they
Who have experience of such woes as mine
May share their wretchedness. Thou, where thou art
Receive my salutation, and henceforth
Continue in thy promised care of me
As true as to this moment thou hast proved.
The. I marvel not at all if mere delight
In these thy daughters lengthened thy discourse,
Or led thee to address them before me.
That gives me not the shadow of annoy.
Nor am I careful to adorn my life
With words of praise, but with the light of deeds.
And thou hast proof of this. For I have failed
In nought of all I promised, agèd King!
Here stand I with thy children in full life
Unharmed in aught the foe had threatened them.
And now why vaunt the deeds that won the day,
When these dear maids will tell them in thine ear?
But let me crave thy counsel on a thing
That crossed me as I came. Small though it seem
When told, ’tis worthy of some wonder, too.
Be it small or great, men should not let things pass.
Oed. What is it. O son of Aegeus? Let me hear,
I am wholly ignorant herein.
The. We are told
One, not thy townsman, but of kin to thee,
Hath come in unawares, and now is found
Kneeling at great Poseidon’s altar, where
I sacrificed, what time ye called me hither.
Oed. What countryman, and wherefore suppliant there?
The. One thing alone I know. He craves of thee
Some speech, they say, that will not hold thee long.
Oed. His kneeling there imports no trivial suit.
The. All he desires, they tell me, is to come,
Have speech with thee, and go unharmed away.
Oed. Who can he be that kneels for such a boon?
The. Think, if at Argos thou a kinsman hast
Who might desire to obtain so much of thee.
Oed. Dear friend! Hold there! No more!
