d held hereto in memory constant,
Nor for his saddened sire the gladness-signals uphoisting 210
Heralded safe return within sight of the Erechthean harbour.
For 'twas told of yore, when from walls of the Virginal Deess
AEgeus speeding his son, to the care of breezes committed,
Thus with a last embrace to the youth spake words of commandment:
"Son! far nearer my heart (sole thou) than life of the longest, 215
Son, I perforce dismiss to doubtful, dangerous chances,
Lately restored to me when eld draws nearest his ending,
Sithence such fortune in me, and in thee such boiling of valour
Tear thee away from me so loath, whose eyne in their languor
Never are sated with sight of my son, all-dearest of figures. 220
Nor will I send thee forth with joy that gladdens my bosom,
Nor will I suffer thee show boon signs of favouring Fortune,
But fro' my soul I'll first express an issue of sorrow,
Soiling my hoary hairs with dust and ashes commingled;
Then will I hang stained sails fast-made to the wavering yard-arms, 225
So shall our mourning thought and burning torture of spirit
Show by the dark sombre-dye of Iberian canvas spread.
But, an grant me the grace Who dwells in Sacred Itone,
(And our issue to guard and ward the seats of Erechtheus
Sware She) that be thy right besprent with blood of the Man-Bull, 230
Then do thou so-wise act, and stored in memory's heart-core
Dwell these mandates of me, no time their traces untracing.
Dip, when first shall arise our hills to gladden thy eye-glance,
Down from thine every mast th'ill-omened vestments of mourning,
Then let the twisten ropes upheave the whitest of canvas, 235
Wherewith splendid shall gleam the tallest spars of the top-mast, 235b
These seeing sans delay with joy exalting my spirit
Well shall I wot boon Time sets thee returning before me."
Such were the mandates which stored at first in memory constant
Faded from Theseus' mind like mists, compelled by the whirlwind,
Fleet from aeerial crests of mountains hoary with snow-drifts. 240
But as the sire had sought the citadel's summit for outlook,
Wasting his anxious eyes with tear-floods evermore flowing,
Forthright e'en as he saw the sail-gear darkened with dye-stain,
Headlong himself flung he from the sea-cliff's pinnacled summit
Holding his Theseus lost by doom of pitiless Fortune. 245
Thus as he came to the home funest, his roof-tree