How should he listen to her earnest speech? Words, such as he not once or twice had said Unto himself, whose meaning scarce could reach290 The firm abode of that sad hardihead— He turned about, and through the market stead Swiftly he passed, until before the throne In the cleared space he stood at last alone.
Then said the King, "Stranger, what dost thou here?295 Have any of my folk done ill to thee? Or art thou of the forest men in fear? Or art thou of the sad fraternity Who still will strive my daughter's mates to be, Staking their lives to win to earthly bliss,300 The lonely maid, the friend of Artemis?"
"O King," he said, "thou sayest the word indeed; Nor will I quit the strife till I have won My sweet delight, or death to end my need. And know that I am called Milanion,305 Of King Amphidamas the well-loved son: So fear not that to thy old name, O King, Much loss or shame my victory will bring."
"Nay, Prince," said Schœneus, "welcome to this land Thou wert indeed, if thou wert here to try310 Thy strength 'gainst some one mighty of his hand; Nor would we grudge thee well-won mastery. But now, why wilt thou come to me to die, And at my door lay down thy luckless head, Swelling the band of the unhappy dead,315
"Whose curses even now my heart doth fear? Lo, I am old, and know what life can be, And what a bitter thing is death anear. O Son! be wise, and hearken unto me, And if no other can be dear to thee,320 At least as now, yet is the world full wide, And bliss in seeming hopeless hearts may hide:
"But if thou losest life, then all is lost." "Nay, King," Milanion said, "thy words are vain. Doubt not that I have counted well the cost.325 But say, on what day will thou that I gain Fulfilled delight, or death to end my pain? Right glad were I if it could be to-day, And all my doubts at rest forever lay."
"Nay," said King Schœneus, "thus it shall not be, But rather shalt thou let a month go by,331 And weary with thy prayers for victory What god thou know'st the kindest and most nigh. So doing, still perchance thou shalt not die: And with my good-will wouldst thou have the maid,335 For of the equal gods I grow afraid.
"And until then, O Prince, be thou my guest, And all these troublous things awhile forget." "Nay," said he, "couldst thou give my soul good rest, And on mine head a sleepy garland set,340 Then had I 'scaped the meshes of the net, Nor shouldst thou hear from me another word; But now, make sharp thy fearful heading sword.
"Yet will I do what son of man may do, And promise all the gods may most desire,345 That to myself I may at least be true; And on that day my heart and limbs so tire, With utmost strain and measureless desire, That, at the worst, I may but fall asleep When in the sunlight round that sword shall sweep."350
He went with that, nor anywhere would bide, But unto Argos[302] restlessly did wend; And there, as one who lays all hope aside, Because the leech has said his life must end, Silent farewell he bade to foe and friend,355 And took his way unto the restless sea, For there he deemed his rest and help might be.