after many hardships borne, Than perish suddenly on my return As Agamemnon perished by the guile Of base Aegisthus and the queen. And yet The gods themselves have not the power to save Whom most they cherish from the common doom When cruel fate brings on the last long sleep.”
Discreet Telemachus made answer thus:—
“Let us, O Mentor, talk no more of this, Though much we grieve; he never will return, For his is the black doom of death ordained By the great gods. Now suffer me to ask Of Nestor further, since to him are known, Beyond all other men, the rules of right And prudence. He has governed, so men say, Three generations, and to me he seems In aspect like the ever-living gods.
O Nestor, son of Neleus, truly say How died the monarch over mighty realms, Atrides Agamemnon? Where was then His brother Menelaus? By what arts Did treacherous Aegisthus plan his death, And slay a braver warrior than himself? Was not the brother in the Achaian town Of Argos? or was he a wanderer In other lands, which made the murderer bold?”
The knight, Gerenian Nestor, answered thus:— “I will tell all and truly. Thou hast guessed Rightly and as it happened. Had the son Of Atreus, fair-haired Menelaus, come From Troy, and found Aegisthus yet alive Within the palace, he had never flung The loose earth on his corpse, but dogs and birds Had preyed upon it, lying in the fields Far from the city, and no woman’s voice Of all the Greeks had raised the wail for him. Great was the crime he plotted.
We were yet Afar, enduring the hard toils of war, While he, securely couched in his retreat At Argos, famed for steeds, with flattering words