That one short sentence of thine contains a host of questions. Why should I tell thee of our losses in the Aegean, or of the beacon Naupliuslighted on Euboea? or of my visits to Crete and the cities of Libya, or of the peaks of Perseus? For I should never satisfy thee with the tale,and by telling thee should add to my own pain, though I suffered enough at the time; and so would my grief be doubled.

Thy answer shows more wisdom than my question. Omit the rest, and tell me only this; how long wert thou a weary wanderer o’er the widesea’s face?

Seven long years did I see come and go, besides those ten in Troy.

Alas, poor sufferer! ’twas a weary while. And thou hast thence escaped only to bleed here.

How so? what wilt thou tell? Ah wife, thou hast ruined me.

Escape and fly with all thy speed from this land. Thou wilt be slain by him whose house this is.

What have I done to merit such a fate?

Thou hast arrived unexpectedly to thwart my marriage.

What! is some man bent on wedding my wife?

Aye, and on heaping those insults on me, which I have hitherto endured.

Is he some private prince, or a ruler of this land?

The son of Proteus, king of the country.

This was that dark saying I heard the servant tell.

At which of the barbarian’s gates wert thou standing?

Here, whence like a beggar I was like to be driven.

Surely thou wert not begging food? Ah, woe is me!

That was what I was doing, though I had not the name of beggar.

Of course thou knowest, then, all about my marriage.

I do. But whether thou hast escaped thy lover, I know not.

Be well assured I have kept my body chaste.

How wilt thou convince me of this? If true, thy words are sweet.

Dost see the wretched station I have kept at this tomb?

I see, alas! a bed of straw; but what hast thou to do with it?

There I crave escape from this marriage as a suppliant.

For want of an altar, or because it is the barbarians’ way?

This was as good a protection to me as the gods’ temples.

May I not then even bear thee homeward on my ship?

The sword far sooner than thy wife’s embrace is waiting thee.

So should I be of all men the most miserable.

Put shame aside, and fly from this land.

Leaving thee behind? ’twas for thy sake I sacked Troy.

Better so, than that our union should cause thy death.

Oh! these are coward words, unworthy of those days at Troy!

Thou canst not slay the prince, thy possible intent.

Hath he, then, a body which steel cannot wound?

Thou shalt hear. But to attempt impossibilities is no mark of wisdom.

Am I to let them bind my hands, and say nothing?

Thou art in a dilemma; some scheme must be devised.

I had liefer die in action than sitting still.

There is one hope, and only one, of our safety.

Will gold, or daring deeds, or winning words procure it?

We are safe if the prince learn not of thy coming.

ary one tell him it is I? He certainly will not know who I am.

He hath within his palace an ally equal to the gods.

Some voice divine within the secret chambers of his house?

No; his sister; Theonoe men call her.

Her name hath a prophetic sound; tell me what she doth.

She knoweth everything, and she will tell her brother thou art come.

Then must we die; for I cannot escape her ken.

Perchance we might by suppliant prayers win her over.

To what end? To what vain hope art thou leading me?

That she should not tell her brother thou art here.

Suppose we persuade her, can we get away?

Easily, if she connive thereat; without her knowledge, no,

Be that thy task; women deal best with women.

I will not fail, be sure, to clasp her knees.

Come, then; only, suppose she reject our proposals?

Thou wilt be slain, and I, alas! wedded by force.

Thou wilt betray me; that “force” of thine is but an excuse.

Nay, by thy life I swear a sacred oath.

What meanest thou? dost swear to die and never to another husband yield?

Yes, by the self-same sword; I will fall by thy side.

On these conditions touch my right hand.

I do so, swearing I will quit the light of day if thou art slain.

I, too, will end my life if I lose thee.

How shall we die so as to gain fame?

I will slay thee and then myself upon the summit of the tomb. But first will I in doughty fight contest another’s claim to thee; and let who will draw nigh! for I will not sully the lustre of my Trojan fame, nor will I, on my return to Hellas, incur a storm of taunts, as one who robbed Thetis of Achilles; saw Ajax, son of Telamon, fall a weltering corpse; and the sort of Neleus of his child bereft; shall I then flinch myselffrom death for my own wife? No, no! For if the gods are wise, o’er a brave man by his foes laid low they lightly sprinkle the earth that is his tomb, while cowards ‘they cast forth on barren rocky soil.

Grant, heaven, that the race of Tantalus may at last be blest, and pass from sorrow unto joy!

Ah, woe is me! Yea, all my lot is woe; O Menelaus, we are utterly undone! Behold! from forth the house comes Theonoe, the prophetess, Thepalace echoes as the bolts are unfastened; fly! yet what use to fly? For whether absent or present she knows of thy arrival here. Ah me! how lost am I! Saved from Troy and from a barbarian land, thou hast come only to fall a prey to barbarian swords.

THEONOE enters, attended by hand-maidens carrying torches.
THEONOE

Lead on, bearing before me blazing brands, and, as sacred rites ordain, purge with incense every cranny of the air, that I may breathe heaven’s breath free from taint; meanwhile do thou, in case the tread of unclean feet have soiled the path, wave the cleansing flame above it, andbrandish the torch in front, that I may pass upon my way. And when to heaven ye have paid the customs I exact, bear back into the house the brand from off the hearth. What of my prophecy, Helen? how stands it now? Thou hast seen thy husband Menelaus arrive without disguise, reft of his ships, and of thy counterfeit. Ah, hapless man! what troubles hast thou escaped, and art come hither, and yet knowest not whether thou art to return or to abide here; for there is strife in heaven, and Zeus this very day will sit in solemn conclave on thee. Hera, who erst was thy bitter foe, is now grown kind, and is willing to bring thee and thy wife safe home, that Hellas may learn that the marriage of Paris was all a sham, assigned to him by Cypris; but Cypris fain would mar thy homeward course, that she may not be convicted, or proved to have bought the palm of beauty at the price of Helen in a futile marriage. Now the decision rests with me, whether to ruin thee, as Cypris wishes, by telling my brother of thy presence bere, or to save thy life by taking Hera’s side, concealing thy coming from my brother, for his orders are that I should tell him, whensoe’er thou shouldst reach these shores. Ho! one of you, go show my brother this man is here, that I may secure my safety.

Maiden, at thy knees I fall a suppliant, and seat myself in this sad posture on behalf of myself and him, whom I am in danger of seeing slain, after I have so hardly found him. Oh! tell not thy brother that my husband is returned to these loving arms; save us, I beseech thee; never for thy brother’s sake sacrifice thy character for uprightness, by evil and unjust means bidding for his favour. For the deity hates violence, and biddeth all men get lawful gains without plundering others. Wealth unjustly gotten, though it bring some power, is to be eschewed. The breathof heaven and the earth are man’s common heritage, wherein to store his home, without taking the goods of others, or wresting them away by force. Me did Hermes at a critical time, to my sorrow, intrust to thy father’s safe keeping for this my lord, who now is here and wishes to reclaim me. But how can he recover me if he be slain? How could thy sire restore the living to the dead? Oh! consider ere that the will of heaven and thy father’s too; would the deity or would thy dead sire restore their neighbour’s goods, or would they forbear? restore them, I feel sure. It is not, therefore, right that thou shouldst more esteem thy wanton brother than thy righteous father. Yet if thou, prophetess as thou art and believer in divine providence, shalt pervert the just intention of thy father and gratify thy unrighteous brother, ’tis shameful thou shouldst have full knowledge of the heavenly will, both what is and what is not, and yet be ignorant of justice. Oh! save my wretched life from the troubles which beset it, granting this as an accession to our good fortune; for every living soul loathes Helen, seeing that there is gone a rumour throughout Hellas that I was false unto my lord, and took up my abode in Phrygia’s sumptuous halls. Now, if I come to Hellas, and set foot once more in Sparta, they will hear and see how they were ruined by the wiles of goddesses, while was no traitress to my friends after all; and so will they restore to me my virtuous name again, and I shall give my daughter in marriage, whom no man now will wed; and, leaving this vagrant life in Egypt, shall enjoy the treasures in my home. Had Menelaus met his doom at some funeral pyre, with tears should I becherishing his memory in a far-off land, but must lose him now when he is alive and safe? Ah! maiden, I beseech thee, say not so; grant me this boon, I pray, and reflect thy father’s justice; for this is the fairest ornament of children, when the child of a virtuous sire resembles its parents in character.

Piteous thy pleading, and a piteous object thou! But I fain would hear what Menelaus will say to save his life.

I will not deign to throw myself at thy knees, or wet mine eyes with tears; for were I to play the coward, I should most foully blur my Trojan fame. And yet men say it shows a noble soul to let the tear-drop fall in misfortune. But that will not be the honourable course that I willchoose in preference to bravery, if what I shall say is honourable. Art thou disposed to save a stranger seeking in mere justice to regain hiswife, why then restore her and save us likewise; if not, this will not be the first by many a time that I have suffered, though thou wilt get an evil name. All that I deem worthy of me and honest, all that will touch thy heart most nearly, will I utter at the tomb of thy sire with regret for his loss. Old king beneath this tomb of stone reposing, pay back thy trust! I ask of thee my wife whom Zeus sent hither unto thee to keep forme. I know thou canst never restore her to me thyself, for thou art dead; but this thy daughter will never allow her father once so glorious, whom I invoke in his grave, to bear a tarnished name; for the decision rests with her now. Thee, too, great god of death, I call to my assistance, who hast received full many a corpse, slain by me for Helen, and art keeping thy wage; either restore those dead now to life again, or compel the daughter to show herself a worthy equal of her virtuous sire, and give me back my wife. But if ye will rob me of her, I will tell you that which she omitted in her speech. Know then, maiden, I by an oath am bound, first, to meet thy brother sword to sword, when he or I must die-there is no alternative. But if he refuse to meet me fairly front to front, and seek by famine to chase away us suppliants twain at this tomb, I am resolved to slay Helen, and then to plunge this two-edged sword through my own heart, upon the top of the sepulchre, that our streaming blood may trickle down the tomb; and our two corpses will be lying side by side upon this polished slab, a source of deathless grief to thee, and to thy sire reproach. Never shall thy brother wed Helen, nor shall any other; I will bear her hence myself, if not to my house, at any rate to death. And why this stern resolve? Were I to resort to women’s ways and weep, I should be a pitiful creature, not a man of action. Slay me, if it seems thee good; I will not die ingloriously; but better yield to what I say, that thou mayst act with justice, and I regain my wife.