Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1896) v2.djvu/98

42 O that from Phthia, a bird dark-winged, I were soaring,

Or were such as the pine-wrought galley, that flew

The first of the ships of earth her swift course oaring

Through the Crags dark-blue!

My child, thy frenzy of rage I praised not then

When thou against the Trojan dame didst sin,

Nor praise the frenzy of dread that shakes thee now.

Not thus thy lord will thrust his wife away

By weak words of barbarian woman swayed.

In thee he wed no captive torn from Troy,

Nay, but a prince's child, and gat with thee

Rich dowry from a city of golden weal.

Nor will thy father, as thou fearest, child,

Forsake and let thee from these halls be driven.

Nay, pass within; make not thyself a show

Before this house, lest thou shouldst get thee shame,

Before this palace seen of men, my child.

But lo, an outland stranger, alien-seeming,

With hasty steps to usward journeyeth.

Enter Orestes.

Dames of a foreign land, be these the halls

And royal palace of Achilles' son?

Thou sayest: but who art thou that askest this?