Page:The Dramas of Aeschylus (Swanwick).djvu/183

Rh

Strangers, if aught ye need, say on, for here

Is whatsoe'er beseemeth halls like these;—

Warm baths, the easeful couch that charmeth toil,

The welcome presence too of honest eyes.

But if your mission here doth counsel crave,

'Tis men's concern:—we will inform them straight.

From Phocis I, a Daulian, stranger here.—

What time my home I left, for Argos bound,

Starting on foot, with baggage self-equipped,

A man to me unknown, as I to him,

Met me, inquired my route and told me his

Strophios, the Phocian, as in talk I learned.

"Stranger," he said, "since Argos is thy goal,

Say to the parents,"—strictly mark my words,—

"Dead is Orestes;—grave it on thy mind;—

Whether the counsel of his friends prevail

To bring him home, or give him sepulture,

Alien for aye;—bear thou their mandates back;

For now the brazen urn doth shroud from sight

The ashes of the hero duly wept."

Such words I heard, and tell thee;—if to those

Who here bear rule I speak, kin to the dead,

I know not;—but 'tis meet his sire should know.

Woe's me! Then are we utterly undone!