“O Jove, most great and glorious! who dost rule The tempest—dweller of the ethereal space! Let not the sun go down and night come on Ere I shall lay the halls of Priam waste With fire, and give their portals to the flames, And hew away the coat of mail that shields The breast of Hector, splitting it with steel. And may his fellow-warriors, many a one, Fall round him to the earth and bite the dust.”
He spake; the son of Saturn hearkened not, But took the sacrifice and made more hard The toils of war. And now when they had prayed, And strown the salted meal, they drew the neck Of the victim back and cut the throat and flayed The carcass, hewed away the thighs and laid The fat upon them in a double fold, On which they placed raw strips of flesh, and these They burned with leafless billets. Then they fixed The entrails on the spits and held them forth Above the flames, and when the thighs were burned And entrails tasted, all the rest was carved Into small portions and transfixed with spits And roasted carefully and drawn away. And when these tasks were finished and the board Was spread, they feasted; from that equal feast None