_Amph._ Prophesy, sir, and tell us Whether some god forewarned Telemachus, Or if they gave him chase and could not catch him. _Enter Antinous and his men._ _WOOERS._ Hail, Lord Antinous! _Eur._ How went it with thee? _ANTINOUS._ Where is the prince? _Amph._ Why, where’s the prince? he saith. Where is the prince? _Eur._ How missed you him? _Ant._ Curst luck! All day our scouts kept up unbroken guard Along the windy headlands, and at night None slept ashore, but cruising to and fro, We watched the narrow channels until dawn, 1040 Lying in wait to take him when he came. And lo! he is here, hath run by into port, And beached his ship upon the royal stade, Before we knew it. Curst luck! Have ye seen him? _Eur._ Nay, for he landed by the northern shore, And sent his ship about: a god hath warned him. _Ant._ God or no god, plant we before he comes An ambush in the hills, and slay him there: For once he reach the town alive, be sure He is the huntsman then and we the game. 1050 Ay, he hath wit eno’ ere he come hither To babble of our plot, and ’fore the folk Will, with his pretty face and cunning tears And speeches of his mother, stir them up To rise against us. Look, sirs, while he lives We can do nothing, but if we should kill him, His lands and goods are ours: we may divide The wealth and let who will possess the widow. That is my counsel, lords: but if ye suffer This baby to return, then this I say— 1060 Make we at once our gifts,—myself I count it No satisfaction,—but that one of us Should win at least the dame and such few chattels As may go with her, is the only credit We have to look for. _Ctes._ What is that to us? _Ant._ What say ye, lords? _Amph._ Why, ’tis a pretty plan. We came to woo the dame; but since ’tis clear All cannot have her, in the general interest Change we our purpose, saith he, kill the son, And make division. Well! What say ye, lords? 1070 _Ctes._ Hark not to him: he hath a specialty. _Amph._ Imbrue ye not your hands in innocent blood, Nor touch Telemachus: for ’tis a thing Abhorred of Zeus to meddle with a life Of royal strain. There be the oracles; Consult ye them: and if Telemachus Must die and ’tis decreed, I shall be last Of men to oppose it: otherwise I stand Against Antinous, ay, sword to sword: Whose insolence, I say, the gods already 1080 Have baulked and will not suffer.