Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1898) v3.djvu/504

476 Enter Paris.

War-chief and brother, ho, to thee I call,

Hector! Dost sleep? Behoves thee not to watch?

Some foe to us is nigh unto the host—

Marauders they, or peradventure spies.

Fear not. I, Kypris, ward thee graciously.

I take thought for thy warfare, nor forget

Thine honour done me, and thy service thank.

And now, when triumpheth the host of Troy,

Leading to thee a mighty friend I come,

The Thracian scion of the Muse, the Queen

Of Song: he bears the name of Strymon's son.

Gracious art thou unto my city still,

And unto me. I trow I won for Troy

Life's goodliest treasure, judging thee most fair.

Vague rumour brought me hither: some report

Amongst the guard had risen of Argive spies

Even now at hand. One saith it that saw nought:

One saw them come, yet nothing more can tell.

Wherefore to Hector's resting-place I came.

Fear nothing: in the host no peril is.

Hector to quarter Thracia's host is gone.

Thou dost assure me: lo, I trust thy words.

And free of fear I go to guard my post.