But now in thee I find both messenger
And convoy, thou wilt pity me and save.
For, well thou knowest, danger never sleeps,
And fear of dark reverse is always nigh.
Mortals, when free, should look where mischief lurks,
And in their happiest hour consider well
Their life, lest ruin unsuspected come.
Ch. Pity him, O my king! 2
Many a crushing woe
He telleth, such as I pray
None of my friends may know.
And if, dear master, thou mislikest sore
Yon cruel-hearted lordly pair, I would,
Turning their plan of evil to his good,
On swift ship bear him to his native shore,
Meeting his heart’s desire; and free thy path
From fear of heavenly wrath.
Neo. Thou mak’st small scruple here; but be advised:
Lest, when this plague on board shall weary thee,
Thy voice should alter from this liberal tone.
Ch. No, truly! Fear not thou shalt ever have
Just cause to utter such reproach on me.
Neo. Then sure ’twere shame, should I more backward prove
Than thou, to labour for the stranger’s need.
Come, if thou wilt, let us make voyage, and he,
Let him set forth with speed. Our ship shall take him.
He shall not be refused. Only may Heaven
Lead safely hence and to our destined port!
Phi. O morning full of brightness! Kindest friend,
Sweet mariners, how can I make you feel,
In act, how dearly from my heart I love you!
Ye have won my soul. Let us be gone, my son,—
First having said farewell to this poor cave,
My homeless dwelling-place, that thou may’st know,
How barely I have lived, how firm my heart!
Methinks another could not have endured
