Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1896) v2.djvu/93

Rh And, hapless, thou. Caught in a raging storm,

Thou hast come into a windless haven's calm.

The Gods reward thee, ancient, thee and thine,

Who hast saved my son and me the evil-starred!

Yet see to it, lest, where loneliest is the way,

These fall on us, and hale me thence by force,

Marking how thou art old, how I am weak,

This boy a babe: give thou heed unto this,

Lest, though we 'scape now, we be taken yet.

Out on thy words—a woman's faint-heart speech!

Pass on: whose hand shall stay you?—He shall rue

Who toucheth. By heaven's grace o'er hosts of horsemen

And countless men-at-arms I rule in Phthia.

I am yet unbowed, not old as thou dost think.

Yea, if I flash but a glance on such an one,

Shall I put him to rout, old though I be.

Stronger a stout-heart greybeard is than youths

Many: what boots a coward's burly bulk?

[''Exeunt Peleus, Andromachê, Molossus and Attendants''.

Thou wert better unborn, save of noble fathers

Descended, in halls of the rich thou abide.

If the high-born have wrong, for his championing gathers

A host that shall strike on his side.