Let this wretch here content him with his curse
Of blood: I would pollute no innocents!
Theseus. I come,—with others who await beside
Asopos' stream, the armed Athenian youth,—
Bring thy son, old man, spear's fight-fellowship!
For a bruit reached the Erechtheidai's town
That, having seized the sceptre of this realm,
Lukos prepares you battle-violence.
So, paying good back,—Herakles began,
Saving me down there,—I have come, old man,