Wherefore may all the Olympian gods, one day,
Plague them with stern requital for my wrong!
Ch. Methinks my feeling for thee, Poeas’ child,
Is like that of thy former visitants.
Neo. I, too, a witness to confirm his words,
Know them for verities, since I have found
The Atridae and Odysseus evil men.
Phi. Art thou, too, wroth with the all-pestilent sons
Of Atreus? Have they given thee cause to grieve?
Neo. Would that my hand might ease the wrath I feel!
Then Sparta and Mycenae should be ware
That Scyros too breeds valiant sons for war.
Phi. Brave youth! I love thee. Tell me the great cause
Why thou inveighest against them with such heat?
Neo. O son of Poeas, hardly shall I tell
What outrage I endured when I had come;
Yet I will speak it. When the fate of death
O’ertook Achilles———
Phi. Out, alas! no more!
Hold, till thou first hast made me clearly know,
Is Peleus’ offspring dead?
Neo. Alas! he is,
Slain by no mortal, felled by Phoebus’ shaft:
So men reported—
Phi. Well, right princely was he!
And princely is he who slew him. Shall I mourn
Him first, or wait till I have heard thy tale?
Neo. Methinks thou hast thyself enough to mourn,
Without the burden of another’s woe.
Phi. Well spoken. Then renew thine own complaint,
And tell once more wherein they insulted thee.
Neo. There came to fetch me, in a gallant ship,
Odysseus and the fosterer of my sire,
Saying, whether soothly, or in idle show,
That, since my father perished, it was known
None else but I should take Troy’s citadel.
Such words from them, my friend, thou may’st believe,
Held me not long from making voyage with speed,
