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OD.
Where gain invites, this shrinking is not good.

NEO.
What gain I through his coming back to Troy?

OD.
His arms alone have power to take Troy-town.

NEO.
Then am not I the spoiler, as ye said?

OD.
Thou without them, they without thee, are powerless.

NEO.
If it be so, they must be sought and won.

OD.
Yea, for in this two prizes will be thine.

NEO.
What? When I learn them, I will not refuse.

OD.
Wisdom and valour joined in one good name.

NEO.
Shame, to the winds! Come, I will do this thing.

OD.
Say, dost thou bear my bidding full in mind?

NEO.
Doubt not, since once for all I have embraced it.

OD.
Thou, then, await him here. I will retire,
For fear my hated presence should be known,
And take back our attendant to the ship.
And then once more, should ye appear to waste
The time unduly, I will send again
This same man hither in disguise, transformed
To the strange semblance of a merchantman;
From dark suggestion of whose crafty tongue,
Thou, O my son, shalt gather timely counsel.
Now to my ship. This charge I leave to thee.
May secret Hermes guide us to our end,
And civic Pallas, named of victory,
The sure protectress of my devious way.

CHORUS
(entering).

Strange in the stranger land,
What shall I speak? What hide
From a heart suspicious of ill?
Tell me, O master mine!
Wise above all is the man,
Peerless in searching thought,
Who with the Zeus-given wand
Wieldeth a Heaven-sent power.
This unto thee, dear son,
Fraught with ancestral might,
This to thy life hath come.
Wherefore I bid thee declare,
What must I do for thy need?

NEO.
Even now methinks thou longest to espy
Near ocean’s marge the place where he doth lie.
Gaze without fear. But when the traveller stern,
Who from this roof is parted, shall return,
Advancing still as I the signal give,
To serve each moment’s mission thou shalt strive.

CH.
That, O my son, from of old
Hath been my care, to take note
What by thy beck’ning is told;
Still thy success to promote.
But for our errand to-day
Behoves thee, master, to say
Where is the hearth of his home;
Or where even now doth he roam?
O tell me, lest all unaware
He spring like a wolf from his lair
And I by surprise should be ta’en,
Where doth he move or remain,
Here lodging, or wandering away?

NEO.
Thou seest yon double doorway of his cell,
Poor habitation of the rock.

CH.
2. But tell
Where is the pain-worn wight himself abroad?

NEO.
To me ’tis clear, that, in his quest for food,
Here, not far off, he trails yon furrowed path.
For, so ’tis told, this mode the sufferer hath
Of sustenance, oh hardness! bringing low
Wild creatures with wing’d arrows from his bow;
Nor findeth healer for his troublous woe.

CH.
I feel his misery.
With no companion eye,
Far from all human care,
He pines with fell disease;
Each want he hourly sees
Awakening new despair.
How can he bear it still?
O cruel Heavens! O pain
Of that afflicted mortal train
Whose life sharp sorrows fill!