Epeisodion 3
AGAMEMNON.
First, indeed, Argos, and the gods, the local,
810
’T is right addressing — those with me the partners
In this return and right things done the city
Of Priamos: gods who, from no tongue hearing
The rights o’ the cause, for Ilion’s fate man-slaught’rous
Into the bloody vase, not oscillating,
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Put the vote-pebbles, while, o’ the rival vessel,
Hope rose up to the lip-edge: filled it was not.
By smoke the captured city is still conspicuous:
Até’s burnt offerings live: and, dying with them,
The ash sends forth the fulsome blasts of riches.
820
Of these things, to the gods grace many-mindful
’T is right I render, since both nets outrageous
We built them round with, and, for sake of woman,
It did the city to dust — the Argeian monster,
The horse’s nestling, the shield-bearing people
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That made a leap, at setting of the Pleiads,
And, vaulting o’er the tower, the raw-flesh-feeding
Lion licked up his fill of blood tyrannic.
I to the gods indeed prolonged this preface;
But — as for thy thought, I remember hearing —
830
I say the same, and thou co-pleader hast me.
Since few of men this faculty is born with —
To honour, without grudge, their friend, successful.
For moody, on the heart, a poison seated
Its burthen doubles to who gained the sickness:
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By his own griefs he is himself made heavy,
And out-of-door prosperity seeing groans at.
Knowing, I’d call (for well have I experienced)
Fellowship’s mirror, phantom of a shadow,
