hear me, afflicted though thou art. I will ask thee for no more than is my due. Accept my counsels, in a calmer mood than that to which this anger stings thee: else thou canst not learn how vain is thy desire for vengeance, and how causeless thy resentment.
He. Say what thou wilt, and cease;1120 in this my pain I understand nought of all thy riddling words.
Hy. I come to tell thee of my mother,—how it is now with her, and how she sinned unwittingly.
He. Villain! What—hast thou dared to breathe her name again in my hearing,—the name of the mother who hath slain thy sire?
Hy. Yea, such is her state that silence is unmeet.
He. Unmeet, truly, in view of her past crimes.
Hy. And also of her deeds this day,—as thou wilt own.
He. Speak,—but give heed that thou be not found a traitor.
Hy. These are my tidings. She is dead, lately slain.1130
He. By whose hand? A wondrous message, from a prophet of ill-omened voice!
Hy. By her own hand, and no stranger's.
He. Alas, ere she died by mine, as she deserved!
Hy. Even thy wrath would be turned, couldst thou hear all.
He. A strange preamble; but unfold thy meaning.
Hy. The sum is this;—she erred, with a good intent.
He. Is it a good deed, thou wretch, to have slain thy sire?
