Page:Sophocles (Storr 1912) v1.djvu/305



For all his benefits I would perform

The promise made when I received them first.

Hither haste, my son, arise,

Altar leave and sacrifice,

If haply to Poseidon now

In the far glade thou pay’st thy vow.

For our guest to thee would bring

And thy folk an offering,

Thy due guerdon. Haste, O King!

Enter.

Wherefore again this general din? at once

My people call me and the stranger calls.

Is it a thunderbolt of Zeus or sleet

Of arrowy hail? a storm so fierce as this

Would warrant all surmises of mischance.

Thou com’st much wished for. Prince, and sure some god

Hath bid good luck attend thee on thy way.

What, son of Laïus, hath chanced of new?

My life hath turned the scale. I would do all

I promised thee and thine before I die.

What sign assures thee that thine end is near? 283