The fashion of your garb is Greek,—most welcome to my sight,—but I fain would hear your speech: and do not shrink from me in fear, or be scared by my wild looks; nay, in pity for one so wretched and so lonely, for a sufferer so desolate and so friendless, speak to me, if indeed230 ye have come as friends.—Oh, answer! 'Tis not meet that I should fail of this, at least, from you, or ye from me.
Ne. Then know this first, good Sir, that we are Greeks,—since thou art fain to learn that.
Ph. O well-loved sound! Ah, that I should indeed be greeted by such a man, after so long a time! What quest, my son, hath drawn thee towards these shores, and to this spot? What enterprise? What kindliest of winds? Speak, tell me all, that I may know who thou art.
Ne. My birthplace is the seagirt Scyros; I am sailing homeward;240 Achilles was my sire; my name is Neoptolemus:—thou know'st all.
Ph. O son of well-loved father and dear land, foster-child of aged Lycomedes, on what errand hast thou touched this coast? Whence art thou sailing?
Ne. Well, it is from Ilium that I hold my present course.
Ph. What? Thou wast not, certainly, our shipmate at the beginning of the voyage to Ilium.
Ne. Hadst thou, indeed, a part in that emprise?
Ph. O my son, then thou know'st not who is before thee?
Ne. How should I know one whom I have never seen before?250
