From Argos, famed for steeds, that, having spoiled This well-defended Troy, thou shouldst return A conqueror. And now, like tender boys Or widowed women, all give way to grief And languish to return. ’Twere hard to bear If, after all our sufferings and our toils, We go back now. And yet, whoe’er remains A single month away from wife and home Chafes if the winter storms and angry sea Detain him still on board his well-oared barque; And we have seen the ninth full year roll round Since we came hither. Therefore blame I not The Greeks if they in their beaked ships repine At this delay. But then it were disgrace To linger here so long and journey home With empty hands. Bear with us yet, and wait Till it be certain whether Calchas speaks Truly or not. For we remember well, And all of you whom cruel death has spared Are witnesses with me, that when the ships Of Greece—it seems as if but yesterday— Mustered in Aulis on their way to bring Woe upon Priam and the town of Troy, And we, beside a fountain, offered up On sacred altars chosen hecatombs, Under a shapely plane-tree, from whose root Flowed the clear water, there appeared to us A wondrous sign. A frightful serpent, marked With crimson spots, which Jupiter sent forth To daylight from beneath the altar-stone, Came swiftly gliding toward the tree, whereon A sparrow had her young—eight unfledged birds— Upon the topmost bough and screened by leaves; The mother was the ninth. The serpent seized The helpless brood and midst their piteous cries Devoured them, while the mother fluttered round, Lamenting, till he caught her by the wing; And when he had destroyed the parent bird And all her brood, the god who sent him forth Made him a greater marvel still. The son Of crafty Saturn changed the snake to stone; And we who stood around were sore amazed. Such was the awful portent which the gods Showed at that sacrifice. But Calchas thus Instantly spake, interpreting the sign:— “ ‘O long haired Greeks,’ he said, ‘why stand ye thus In silence? All-foreseeing Jupiter Hath sent this mighty omen; late it comes And late will be fulfilled, yet gloriously, And with a fame that never shall decay. For as the snake devoured the sparrow’s
Table of Contents
Book II
46