Meanwhile, we will first crown my father's tomb as the god ordered with libations and the luxuriant tribute of a severed lock; then we will return here, bearing in our hands an urn of hammered bronze
—now hidden, as you no doubt know, in the brushwood—so that we may gladden them with the false tidings that this body of mine exists no more, but has been consumed with fire and reduced to ashes. How does it hurt me, when by feigned death
I find true life and win renown? No word is ill-omened, I trust, if it yields gain. For often before now I have seen clever men die in false report; then, when they return home, they are held in greater honor.
And so for myself I trust that as a result of this rumor I, too, shall live, shining down like a star upon my enemies.
But you, O my fatherland and native gods of my soil, receive me with good fortune in this journey, and you also, house of my ancestors,
since I come by divine mandate to cleanse you as justice demands. Do not dismiss me from this land in dishonor, but grant that I may rule over my possessions and restore my house!
I have said enough. Go now, old one, and take care to watch over your task.
The two of us will depart; for so opportunity bids, chief ruler of every enterprise for men.