Parodos
With arrow sweet and piteous,
From the eye only sped, —
Significant of will to use a word,
Just as in pictures: since, full many a time,
In her sire’s guest-hall, by the well-heaped board
Had she made music, — lovingly with chime
Of her chaste voice, that unpolluted thing,
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Honoured the third libation, — paian that should bring
Good fortune to the sire she loved so well.
What followed — those things I nor saw nor tell.
But Kalchas’ arts, — whate’er they indicate, —
Miss of fulfilment never: it is fate.
True, justice makes, in sufferers, a desire
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To know the future woe preponderate.
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But — hear before is need?
To that, farewell and welcome! ’t is the same, indeed,
As grief beforehand: clearly, part for part,
Conformably to Kalchas’ art,
But be they as they may, things subsequent, —
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What is to do, prosperity betide
E’en as we wish it! — we, the next allied,
Sole guarding barrier of the Apian land.
