For neither is there harbour, nor a town,
Where sailing he may profit gain, or lodge.
No men of prudence make their voyage here;
Yet some, perchance, may come against their will;
(Such things will happen in the lapse of years;)
And these, my son, when they do come, in words
Show pity on me, and perchance they give
Some food in their compassion, and some clothes;
But none is willing, when I mention that,310
To take me safely home, but here poor I
Wear out my life, for nine long years and more,
In hunger and distress this eating sore
Still nursing. Such the deeds th' Atreidæ did,
And great Odysseus. May the Olympian Gods
Give them to bear like recompense for this!
Chor. I seem, Ο Pœas' son, to pity thee
As much as any stranger that has come.
Neop. And I myself am witness to thy words,
And know that they are true, for I have found320
The Atreidæ and the great Odysseus base.
Phil. What! Hast thou too a grudge against those vile ones,
The Atreidæ, that thy wrongs have stirred thy rage?
Neop. Would it were mine some day to glut my rage!
That Sparta and Mykenæ both might know,
That Skyros, too, is mother of brave men.
Phil. Well said, Ο boy! And what offence has caused
This mighty wrath with which thou comest here?
Neop. I'll tell thee, Pœas' son, though scarce I can,330
What I endured of outrage at their hands;
For when the Fates decreed Achilles' death, . . . .
Phil. Ah me! Speak nothing further till I learn
This first; and is the son of Peleus dead?
