“But let me tell what thou hast asked of me: Beyond Ortygia lies an island named Syria; thou must have heard of it. The sun Above it turns his course. It is not large, But fruitful, fit for pasturage, and rich In flocks, abounding both in wine and wheat. There never famine comes, nor foul disease Fastens on wretched mortals; but when men Grow old, Apollo of the silver bow Comes with Diana, aims his silent shafts, And slays them. There two cities stand, and share The isle between them. There my father reigned, The godlike Ctesias, son of Ormenus, And both the cities owned him as their king.
“There came a crew of that seafaring race, The people of Phoenicia, to our isle. Shrewd fellows they, and brought in their black ship Large store of trinkets. In my father’s house Was a Phoenician woman, large and fair, And skilful in embroidery. As she came A laundress to their ship, those cunning men Seduced her. One of them obtained her love— For oft doth love mislead weak womankind, Even of the more discreet. Her paramour Asked who she was, and whence. She pointed out The lofty pile in which my father dwelt.
“ ‘At Sidon, rich in brass, I had my birth— A daughter of the opulent Arybas; And once, as I was coming from the fields, The Taphian pirates seized and bore me off, And brought me to this isle and sold me here, At that man’s house; much gold he paid for me.’
“Then said her paramour: ‘Wilt thou not then Return with us, that thou mayst see again Father and mother, and their fair abode? For yet they live, and rumor says are rich.’