To deck the tomb and do my father honour.
Chor. Well, on the Gods we call, on those who know
In what storms we, like sailors, now are tossed:
But if deliverance may indeed be ours,
From a small seed a mighty trunk may grow.[[413]]
Elect. Here too are foot-prints as a second proof,
Just like ... yea, close resembling those of mine.
For here are outlines of two separate feet,
His own and those of fellow-traveller,
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