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Rh

What say'st thou! Speak more clearly for mine ear.

Bids she bring henchmen, or to come alone?

She bids him bring a spear-armed body-guard.

Nay, tell not that unto our loathèd lord,

But speed to him, put on the mien of joy,

Say Come alone, fear nought, the news is good:

A bearer can tell straight a twisted tale.

Does then thy mind in this new tale find joy?

What if Zeus bid our ill wind veer to fair?

And how? the home's hope with Orestes dies.

Not yet—a seer, though feeble, this might see.

What say'st thou? Know'st thou aught, this tale belying?