"Gifts, as Hypsipyle herself wishes, let us send to the strangers, for
it is better to give them. But for you what device have ye to get profit
of your life if the Thracian host fall upon us, or some other foe, as
often happens among men, even as now this company is come unforeseen?
But if one of the blessed gods should turn this aside yet countless
other woes worse than battle, remain behind, when the aged women die off
and ye younger ones, without children, reach hateful old age. How then
will ye live, hapless ones? Will your oxen of their own accord yoke
themselves for the deep ploughlands and draw the earth-cleaving share
through the fallow, and forthwith, as the year comes round, reap the
harvest? Assuredly, though the fates till now have shunned me in horror,
I deem that in the coming year I shall put on the garment of earth, when
I have received my meed of burial even so as is right, before the evil
days draw near. But I bid you who are younger give good heed to this.
For now at your feet a way of escape lies open, if ye trust to the
strangers the care of your homes and all your stock and your glorious
city."

Thus she spake, and the assembly was filled with clamour. For the word
pleased them. And after her straightway Hypsipyle rose up again, and
thus spake in reply.

"If this purpose please you all, now will I even send a messenger to the
ship."

She spake and addressed Iphinoe close at hand: "Go, Iphinoe, and beg
yonder man, whoever it is that leads this array, to come to our land
that I may tell him a word that pleases the heart of my people, and bid
the men themselves, if they wish, boldly enter the land and the city
with friendly intent."