Old man lines, ALL

Where is the young princess, my mistress? Ackerman Mann's daughter, wall-mine nurse in days gone by. Oh, how steep is the approach to this house, a horrid climb for these old wasted feet of a man. Still, to reach such friends as these, I must drag my bent old back-and-toddler knees out to it. Ay, daughter, for I see thine out the door. I brought this tender lamb from my own flock, having taken it from its dam, with garlands too, and cheese straight from the press. It was a classic choice, old wine with a fragrant bounty. Too small perhaps for a poor cup, therefore, it is weaker drink than a delicious straw. Let someone carry these gifts into the house of the guests, for I will faint white from my eyes the rising tears on this tattered cloak. Ah, yes, in vain. But so I could not break, I did leave them with us. And so I added this to my journey, that I sought his grave, and following thereupon, I warest over its desolation. Then did I open the wine to feed my gift to thy guests, and poured it by the bay, and set myrtle springs round the tomb. And lo, upon the grave itself I saw a black ram out of an offering, and there was blood. Not long poured forth, and several locks of auburn hair. Much I wondered my daughter, who had dared approach the tomb. Surely twas no archive. Nay, thy brother may perchance have come by stealth, and gone hither, and done honour to his father's wretched grave. Look at the hair, compare it to thy own, and to see if the colours of these locks look as the same. For children in whose veins rose the same father's blood have a close resemblance to many features. Put thy foot in front of the shoe, and mark whether it correspondeth thine, my child. Hast thou no mark, in case thy brother should come, whereby to recognize the weaving of thy loom, the roam wherein I snatched him from death that day? Where are these guests? I fain will question them face to face about thy brother. Well born, it seems. But that may be a sham, for there be plenty such proved names. Shall I give them greeting? My honoured mistress, my daughter Lectra. Return thanks to heaven. That thou hast found a treasured prize, which God is now revealing. Before thee, my child, thy nearest and dearest. Not in my son's senses, but can I see thy brother? That I see a rusty Agamemnon's son before me. A scar along his brow, where he fell and cut himself one day in his father's home, when chasing a fawn with thee. Dost thou hesitate to embrace thy own dear brother? My son, thou hast no friend in thy hour of adversity. No, that is a piece of rare good luck, to find another share thy fortunes alike, for better and for worse. Thou art of every friend completely rapt. All hope is gone from thee. Be sure of what I tell thee, on thy own arm and fortune art thou wholly thrown to win thy father's home and thy city. Slave be'st thee son and thy mother. Thou wist never achieve it, if thou stint'st enter the walls. Ay, truly, for he is afraid of thee and cannot sleep secure. Hear me a moment, an idea has just occurred to me. I saw Agathesis as I was slowly pacing hither, not far from these fields, at his stables. I thought he was preparing a feast for the nymphs. All I know is this, he was preparing to sacrifice Oxen. There was no Argive there, only a band of his own followers. There are only servants, and they have never seen thee. Yes, that is the way of slaves, luckily for thee. Go to some place where he will see thee sacrifice. Yes, and when he sees thee there, he will invite thee to the feast. After that, form thy own plan according to circumstances. At Argos, but she will yet join her husband for the feast. From fear of the citizens of Reproach, she stayed behind. Just so, her wickedness makes her hated. Ay, that I will. But what is thy scheme for slaying thy mother? Some time ago, or quite recently. Suppose it done, but how dost thou seek help towards slaying thy mother? What? Dost thou care for thee, my child? Perhaps she may, but go back again to the point. In that case, let her come right up to the door of the house. Oh, to see this one day, then die. To a place where Agathys is now sacrificing to the gods. Ay, that I will, so that she shall think thy words are thine. I will conduct myself the nothing law.