Leave to their evil doom those evil men.
So thou shalt win a twofold gratitude
From me and from my father, and not seem,
Helping vile men, to be as vile as they.
Neo. ’Tis fairly spoken. Yet I would that thou,
Relying on my word and on Heaven’s aid,
Would’st voyage forth from Lemnos with thy friend.
Phi. Mean’st thou to Troy, and to the hateful sons
Of Atreus, me, with this distressful limb?
Neo. Nay, but to those that will relieve the pain
Of thy torn foot and heal thee of thy plague.
Phi. Thy words are horrible. What mean’st thou, boy?
Neo. The act I deem the noblest for us both.
Phi. Wilt thou speak so? Where is thy fear of Heaven?
Neo. Why should I fear, when I see certain gain?
Phi. Gain for the sons of Atreus, or for me?
Neo. Methinks a friend should give thee friendly counsel.
Phi. Friendly, to hand me over to my foes?
Neo. Ah, be not hardened in thy misery!
Phi. I know thou wilt ruin me by what thou speakest.
Neo. Not I. The case is dark to thee, I see.
Phi. I know the Atreidae cast me on this rock.
Neo. But how, if they should save thee afterward?
Phi. They ne’er shall make me see Troy with my will.
Neo. Hard is my fortune, then, if by no sleight
Of reasoning I can draw thee to my mind.
For me, ’twere easiest to end speech, that thou
Might’st live on as thou livest in hopeless pain.
Phi. Then leave me to my fate!—But thou hast touched
My right hand with thine own, and given consent
To bear me to my home. Do this, dear son!
And do not linger to take thought of Troy.
Enough that name hath echoed in my groans.
Neo. If thou wilt, let us be going.
Phi. Nobly hast thou said the word.
