Then tell me all the truth.  To one free-born
The name of liar is a hateful lot. 
And thou canst not be hid.  Thy news was heard
By many, who will tell me.  If thou fearest,
Thou hast no cause—­for doubtfulness is pain,
But to know all, what harm?  His loves ere now
Were they not manifold?  And none hath borne
Reproach or evil word from me.  She shall not,
Though his new passion were as strong as death;
Since most mine eye hath pitied her, because
Her beauty was the ruin of her life,
And all unweeting, she her own bright land,
Poor hapless one! hath ravaged and enslaved.—­
Let that be as it must.  But for thy part,
Though false to others, be still true to me.

CH.  ’Tis fairly said.  Comply.  Thou ne’er wilt blame
Her faithfulness, and thou wilt earn our loves.

LICH.  Yea, dear my Queen, now I have seen thee hold
Thy mortal wishes within mortal bound
So meekly, I will freely tell thee all. 
It is as he avers.  This maiden’s love,
Piercing through Heracles, was the sole cause,
Why her Oechalia, land of plenteous woe,
Was made the conquest of his spear.  And he—­
For I dare so far clear him—­never bade
Concealment or denial.  But myself,
Fearing the word might wound thy queenly heart,
Sinned, if thou count such tenderness a sin. 
But now that all is known, for both your sakes,
His, and thine own no less, look favouringly
Upon the woman, and confirm the word
Thou here hast spoken in regard to her:—­
For he, whose might is in all else supreme,
Is wholly overmastered by her love.

DE.  Yea, so my mind is bent.  I will do so. 
I will not, in a bootless strife ’gainst Heaven,
Augment my misery with self-sought ill. 
Come, go we in, that thou may’st bear from me
Such message as is meet, and also carry
Gifts, such as are befitting to return
For gifts new-given.  Thou ought’st not to depart
Unladen, having brought so much with thee. [Exeunt

CHORUS. 
        Victorious in her might, I 1
        The Queen of soft delight
    Still ranges onward with triumphant sway. 
        What she from Kronos’ son
        And strong Poseidon won,
    And Pluto, King of Night, I durst not say. 
        But who, to earn this bride,
        Came forth in sinewy pride
    To strive, or e’er the nuptial might be known
        With fearless heart I tell
        What heroes wrestled well,
    With showering blows, and dust in clouds upthrown.

        One was a river bold, I 2
        Horn-crowned, with tramp fourfold,
    Bull Acheloues, Acarnania’s Fear;
        And one from Bacchus’ town,
        Own son of Zeus, came down,
    With brandished mace, bent bow, and barbed spear. 
        Who then in battle brunt,