E’en so with thee and thy unbridled tongue.

Perchance a mighty hurricane may rise,

Sprung from a cloud no bigger than a hand,

Swoop down on thee and quench thy blustering.

Once too I knew a fool, a silly fool,

Who triumphed at his neighbour’s woes and mocked;

And then it chanced that one, a man like me

In looks and character, addressed him thus:

Man, do not evil to the dead, for if

Thou doest evil, thou nilt surely rue it.

So to his face he chid that silly fool.

I see that wight before me, and methinks

“ ’Tis none but thou. Can’st read my riddle plain?

I go, for ’twould disgrace me, were it known

That I, with power to act, chastised with words.

Begone then! ’twere for me a worse disgrace

To listen to a bragster’s idle prate.

Soon a mortal strife will come.

Seek a hollow grave, and haste,

Teucer, with what speed thou may’st,

To prepare the mouldering tomb,

Where the warrior shall lie,

Deathless in men’s memory.