Now, with no slaughter, no delay, no cost
Of his own blood. Then, Minos, I'd not fear
Some blundering oaf might wound you! Oaf--for who
Could have the heart, well knowing what he did,
To aim his spear, his cruel spear, at you?
My start is sound: I stand on my resolve
To give myself and as my dowry give
My country too, and so will end the war.
But more than will is needed. Sentries guard
Every approach; the gates are locked; the keys
My father keeps. My father! Him alone,
Alas, I fear; alone he thwarts my hopes.
Would God I had no father! Everyone
Is his own god, for sure. Fortune rejects
A faint-heart's prayers. Fired with such love as mine
Another girl would blithely have destroyed,
Oh! long ago, whatever crossed her love.
Why should I be less brave? Through fire and sword
I'd dare to go. Yet here there is no need
Of fire or sword: I need my father's tress,
That purple tress, more precious now to me
Than gold; that tress will bring me blessedness,
Will give me power to win my heart's desire.'

Then night, the surest nurse of troubled souls,
Advanced and with the dark her courage grew.
It was the quiet hour when slumber first
Enfolds men's hearts, tired by the long day's toil.
Into her father's chamber silently
The daughter crept and stole (oh, deed of doom!)
His life-tress and, her wicked booty won,
Crossed through the Cretan lines (so sure her trust
In her deserts) and reached the startled king,
And told her tale. 'Love led me to this deed.
I am King Nisus' daughter, Princess Scylla.
I offer you myself, my home, my country;
I ask for no reward except yourself.
Take for my love's sure proof this purple tress
And know I give you--not my father's tress--
I give his head!' And in her guilty hand
She offered him the tress. But Minos shrank

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