Parodos
As they, commanders of the crew,
And then the old leader of the Achaian fleet,
Disparaging no seer —
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With bated breath to suit misfortune’s inrush here
— (What time it laboured, that Achaian host,
By stay from sailing, — every pulse at length
Emptied of vital strength, —
Hard over Kalchis shore-bound, current-crost
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In Aulis station, — while the winds which post
From Strumon, ill-delayers, famine-fraught,
Tempters of man to sail where harbourage is naught,
Spendthrifts of ships and cables, turning time
To twice the length, — these carded, by delay,
195
The Argeians’ flowery prime:
And when a remedy more grave and grand
Than aught before, — yea, for the storm and dearth, —
The prophet to the foremost in command
200
Shrieked forth, as cause of this
So that the Atreidai striking staves on earth
Could not withhold the tear) —
Then did the king, the elder, speak this clear.
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Heavy the fate, indeed, — to disobey!
Yet heavy if my child I slay,
The adornment of my household: with the tide
Of virgin-slaughter, at the altar-side,
A father’s hands defiling: which the way
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