Golden lyre, rightful joint possession of Apollo and the violet-haired
 Muses, to which the dance-step listens, the beginning of splendid festivity;
 and singers obey your notes, whenever, with your quivering strings, you
 prepare to strike up chorus-leading preludes.

You quench even the warlike thunderbolt of everlasting fire. And the
 eagle sleeps on the scepter of Zeus, relaxing his swift wings on either
 side,

the king of birds; and you pour down a dark mist over his curved head,
 a sweet seal on his eyelids. Slumbering, he ripples his liquid back,

under the spell of your pulsing notes. Even powerful Ares, setting
 aside the rough spear-point, warms his heart in repose; your shafts charm
 the minds even of the gods, by virtue of the skill of Leto's son and the
 deep-bosomed Muses.

But those whom Zeus does not love are stunned with terror when they
 hear the cry of the Pierian Muses, on earth or on the irresistible sea;

among them is he who lies in dread Tartarus, that enemy of the gods,
 Typhon with his hundred heads. Once the famous Cilician cave nurtured him,
 but now the sea-girt cliffs above Cumae , and Sicily 
 too, lie heavy on his shaggy chest. And the pillar of the sky holds him
 down,

snow-covered Aetna, year-round nurse of bitter frost,

from whose inmost caves belch forth the purest streams of
 unapproachable fire. In the daytime her rivers roll out a fiery flood of
 smoke, while in the darkness of night the crimson flame hurls rocks down to
 the deep plain of the sea with a crashing roar.

That monster shoots up the most terrible jets of fire; it is a
 marvellous wonder to see, and a marvel even to hear about when men are
 present.

Such a creature is bound beneath the dark and leafy heights of Aetna
 and beneath the plain, and his bed scratches and goads the whole length of
 his back stretched out against it. Grant that we may be pleasing to you,
 Zeus,

you who frequent this mountain, this brow of the fruitful earth,
 whose namesake city near at hand was glorified by its renowned founder, when
 the herald at the Pythian racecourse proclaimed the name of Aetna,
 announcing Hieron's triumph

with the chariot. For seafaring men, the first blessing at the outset
 of their voyage is a favorable wind; for then it is likely that

at the end as well they will win a more prosperous homecoming. And
 that saying, in these fortunate circumstances, brings the belief that from
 now on this city will be renowned for garlands and horses, and its name will
 be spoken amid harmonious festivities. Phoebus, lord of Lycia and Delos , you who love the Castalian spring of Parnassus ,

may you willingly put these wishes in your thoughts, and make this a
 land of fine men.

All the resources for the achievements of mortal excellence come from
 the gods; for being skillful, or having powerful arms, or an eloquent
 tongue. As for me, in my eagerness to praise that man, I hope that I may not
 be like one who hurls the bronze-cheeked javelin, which I brandish in my
 hand, outside the course,

but that I may make a long cast, and surpass my rivals. Would that
 all of time may, in this way, keep his prosperity and the gift of wealth on
 a straight course, and bring forgetfulness of troubles.

Indeed he might remember in what kind of battles of war he stood his
 ground with an enduring soul, when, by the gods' devising, they found honor
 such as no other Greek can pluck,

a proud garland of wealth. But now he has gone to battle in the
 manner of Philoctetes; and under compulsion even a haughty man fawned on him
 for his friendship. They say that the god-like heroes went to bring from
 Lemnos that man afflicted with
 a wound,

the archer son of Poeas, who sacked the city of Priam and brought an
 end to the toils of the Danaans;

he went with a weak body, but it was fated. In such a way may a god
 be the preserver of Hieron for the time that is still to come, giving him
 the opportunity for all he desires. Muse, hear me, and beside Deinomenes
 sing loud praises for the reward of the four-horse chariot. The joy of his
 father's victory is not alien to him.

Come, let us devise a friendly song for the king of Aetna,

for whom Hieron founded that city with god-built freedom, in
 accordance with the laws of the rule of Hyllus. The descendants of
 Pamphylus, and, truly, of the Heracleidae also, dwelling beneath the cliffs
 of Taÿgetus, are willing to abide forever as Dorians under the ordinances of
 Aegimius.

Setting out from Pindus they took Amyclae and prospered, highly
 renowned neighbors of the Tyndaridae with their white horses, and the fame
 of their spear burst into bloom.

Zeus the Accomplisher, grant that beside the waters of Amenas the
 true report of men may always assign such good fortune to citizens and kings
 alike; with your blessing the man who is himself the leader,

and who instructs his son, may bring honor to the people and turn
 them towards harmonious peace. I entreat you, son of Cronus, grant that the
 battle-shouts of the Carthaginians and Etruscans stay quietly at home, now
 that they have seen their arrogance bring lamentation to their ships off
 Cumae .

Such were their sufferings, when they were conquered by the leader of
 the Syracusans—a fate which flung their young men from their swift ships
 into the sea,

delivering Hellas from
 grievous bondage. From Salamis I
 will win as my reward the gratitude of the Athenians, and in Sparta from the battles before
 Cithaeron —those battles in which
 the Medes with their curved bows suffered sorely; but beside the
 well-watered bank of the river Himeras I shall win my reward by paying my
 tribute of song to the sons of Deinomenes,

the song which they earned by their excellence, when their enemies
 were suffering.

If you speak in due proportion, twisting the strands of many themes
 into a brief compass, less blame follows from men. For wearying satiety
 blunts the edge of short-lived expectations, and what the citizens hear
 secretly weighs heavy on their spirits, especially concerning the merits of
 others.

Nevertheless, since envy is better than pity, do not abandon fine
 deeds! Steer your men with the rudder of justice; forge your tongue on the
 anvil of truth:

if even a small spark flies, it is carried along as a great thing
 when it comes from you. You are the guardian of an ample store. You have
 many faithful witnesses of both good and bad. But abide in a blossoming
 temper,

and if you are fond of always hearing sweet things spoken of you, do
 not be too distressed by expenses, but, like a steersman, let your sail out
 to the wind. Do not be deceived, my friend, by glib profit-seeking. The loud
 acclaim of renown that survives a man

is all that reveals the way of life of departed men to storytellers
 and singers alike. The kindly excellence of Croesus does not perish,

but Phalaris, with his pitiless mind, who burned his victims in a
 bronze bull, is surrounded on all sides by a hateful reputation; lyres that
 resound beneath the roof do not welcome him as a theme in gentle partnership
 with the voices of boys. The first of prizes is good fortune; the second is
 to be well spoken of; but a man

who encounters and wins both has received the highest garland.

Great city of Syracuse!
 Sacred precinct of Ares, plunged deep in war! Divine nurse of men and horses
 who rejoice in steel! For you I come from splendid Thebes bringing this song, a message of
 the earth-shaking four-horse race

in which Hieron with his fine chariot won the victory, and so crowned
 Ortygia with far-shining garlands—Ortygia, home of Artemis the
 river-goddess: not without her help did Hieron master with his gentle hands
 the horses with embroidered reins.

For the virgin goddess who showers arrows

and Hermes the god of contests present the gleaming reins to him with
 both hands when he yokes the strength of his horses to the polished car, to
 the chariot that obeys the bit, and calls on the wide-ruling god who wields
 the trident. Other kings have other men to pay them the tribute of melodious
 song, the recompense for excellence.

The voices of the men of Cyprus often shout the name of Cinyras, whom golden-haired
 Apollo gladly loved,

Cinyras, the obedient priest of Aphrodite. Reverent gratitude is a
 recompense for friendly deeds. And you, son of Deinomenes, the West Locrian
 girl invokes you, standing outside her door: out of the helpless troubles of
 war,

through your power she looks at the world in security. They say that
 by the commands of the gods Ixion spins round and round on his feathered
 wheel, saying this to mortals: “Repay your benefactor frequently with gentle
 favors in return.”

He learned a clear lesson. For although he received a sweet life
 among the gracious children of Cronus, he did not abide his prosperity for
 long, when in his madness of spirit he desired Hera, who was allotted to the
 joyful bed of Zeus. But his arrogance drove him to extreme delusion; and
 soon the man suffered a suitable

exquisite punishment. Both of his crimes brought him toil in the end.
 First, he was the hero who, not without guile, was the first to stain mortal
 men with kindred blood;

second, in the vast recesses of that bridal chamber he once made an
 attempt on the wife of Zeus. A man must always measure all things according
 to his own place.

Unnatural lust throws men into dense trouble; it befell even him,
 since the man in his ignorance chased a sweet fake and lay with a cloud, for
 its form was like the supreme celestial goddess, the daughter of Cronus. The
 hands of Zeus set it as a trap for him,

a beautiful misery. Ixion brought upon himself the four-spoked
 fetter,

his own ruin. He fell into inescapable bonds, and received the
 message that warns the whole world. She bore to him, without the blessing of
 the Graces, a monstrous offspring—there was never a mother or a son like
 this—honored neither by men nor by the laws of the gods. She raised him and
 named him Centaurus,

and he mated with the Magnesian mares in the foothills of Pelion, and
 from them was born a marvelous horde, which resembled both its parents: like
 the mother below, the father above.

The gods accomplish everything according to their wishes;

the gods, who overtake even the flying eagle and outstrip the dolphin
 in the sea, and bend down many a man who is overly ambitious, while to
 others they give unaging glory. For my part, I must avoid the aggressive
 bite of slander. For I have seen, long before me,

abusive Archilochus often in a helpless state, fattening himself with
 strong words and hatred. But to be rich by the grace of fortune is the best
 part of skillful wisdom.

And you clearly have this blessing, and can display it with a
 generous mind, ruler and leader of many garland-crowned streets and a great
 army. When wealth and influence are in question,

anyone who says that any man in Greece of earlier times surpassed you has a soft mind that
 flails around in vain. But I shall ascend a ship covered with flowers, and
 sing the praises of excellence. Boldness helps youth in terrible wars; and
 so I say that you too have found boundless fame

by fighting among both horsemen and foot soldiers. And your wisdom
 beyond your years provides me with praise of you that cannot be challenged
 in any detail. Greetings! This song, like Phoenician merchandise, is sent to
 you over the gray sea: look kindly on the Castor-song, composed in Aeolian
 strains;

come and greet the gracious offering of the seven-toned lyre. Learn
 and become who you are. To children, you know, an ape is pretty, always

pretty. But Rhadamanthys has prospered, because his allotted portion
 was the blameless fruit of intelligence, and he does not delight his inner
 spirit with deceptions,

the kind that always follow a man because of the schemes of
 whisperers. Those who mutter slander are an evil that makes both sides
 helpless; they are utterly like foxes in their temper. But what does the fox
 really gain by outfoxing? For while the rest of the tackle labors in the
 depths,

I am unsinkable, like a cork above the surface of the salt sea.

A crafty citizen is unable to speak a compelling word among noble
 men; and yet he fawns on everyone, weaving complete destruction. I do not share his boldness. Let me be a
 friend to my friend; but I will be an enemy to my enemy, and pounce on him
 like a wolf,

treading every crooked path. Under every type of law the man who
 speaks straightforwardly prospers: in a tyranny, and where the raucous
 masses oversee the state, and where men of skill do. One must not fight
 against a god,

who raises up some men's fortunes at one time, and at another gives
 great glory to others. But even this

does not comfort the minds of the envious; they pull the line too
 tight and plant a painful wound in their own heart before they get what they
 are scheming for. It is best to take the yoke on one's neck and bear it
 lightly; kicking against the goad

makes the path treacherous. I hope that I may associate with noble
 men and please them.

If it were proper for this commonplace prayer to be made by my tongue,
 I would want Cheiron the son of Philyra to be alive again, he who has
 departed, the wide-ruling son of Cronus son of Uranus; and I would want him
 to reign again in the glens of Pelion , the beast of the wilds

whose mind was friendly to men; just as he was when once he reared
 Asclepius, that gentle craftsman who drove pain from the limbs that he
 healed, that hero who cured all types of diseases.

His mother, the daughter of Phlegyas with his fine horses, before she
 could bring him to term with the help of Eleithuia who attends on
 childbirth, was stricken by the golden

arrows of Artemis in her bedroom and descended to the house of Hades,
 by the skills of Apollo. The anger of the children of Zeus is not in vain.
 But she made light of Apollo, in the error of her mind, and consented to
 another marriage without her father's knowledge, although she had before
 lain with Phoebus of the unshorn hair,

and was bearing within her the pure seed of the god. She did not wait
 for the marriage-feast to come, nor for the full-voiced cry of the hymenaeal
 chorus, such things as unmarried girls her own age love to murmur in evening
 songs to their companion. Instead,

she was in love with what was distant; many others have felt that
 passion. There is a worthless tribe among men which dishonors what is at
 home and looks far away, hunting down empty air with hopes that cannot be
 fulfilled.

Such was the strong infatuation

that the spirit of lovely-robed Coronis had caught. For she lay in
 the bed of a stranger who came from Arcadia ; but she did not elude the watcher. Even in
 Pytho where sheep are
 sacrificed, the king of the temple happened to perceive it, Loxias,
 persuading his thoughts with his unerring counsellor: his mind, which knows
 all things. He does not grasp falsehood, and he is deceived

by neither god nor man, neither in deeds nor in thoughts.

Knowing even then of her sleeping with Ischys, son of Elatus, and of
 her lawless deceit, he sent his sister, raging with irresistible force, to
 Lacereia, since the girl lived by the banks of Lake Boebias.

A contrary fortune turned her to evil and overcame her. And many
 neighbors shared her fate and perished with her; fire leaps from a single
 spark on a mountain, and destroys a great forest.

But when her kinsmen had placed the girl in the wooden walls of the
 pyre, and

the ravening flame of Hephaestus ran around it, then Apollo spoke: “I
 can no longer endure in my soul to destroy my own child by a most pitiful
 death, together with his mother's grievous suffering.” So he spoke. In one
 step he reached the child and snatched it from the corpse; the burning fire
 divided its blaze for him,

and he bore the child away and gave him to the Magnesian Centaur to
 teach him to heal many painful diseases for men.

And those who came to him afflicted with congenital sores, or with
 their limbs wounded by gray bronze or by a far-hurled stone,

or with their bodies wasting away from summer's fire or winter's
 cold, he released and delivered all of them from their different pains,
 tending some of them with gentle incantations, others with soothing potions,
 or by wrapping remedies all around their limbs, and others he set right with
 surgery.

But even skill is enthralled by the love of gain.

Gold shining in his hand turned even that man, for a handsome price,
 to bring back from death a man who was already caught. And so the son of
 Cronus hurled his shaft with his hands through both of them, and swiftly
 tore the breath out of their chests; the burning thunderbolt brought death
 crashing down on them. We must seek from the gods what is appropriate for
 mortal minds,

knowing what lies before our feet, and what kind of destiny we have.

Do not crave immortal life, my soul, but use to the full the
 resources of what is possible. But if wise Cheiron were still living in his
 cave, and if our honey-voiced odes

had cast a spell on his spirit, I would have persuaded him to send
 even now a healer to cure noble men of their feverish diseases, someone
 called a son of Apollo or of his father Zeus. And I would have gone on a
 ship, cleaving the Ionian waters, to the fountain of Arethusa and the
 presence of my Aetnaean host,

the king who rules Syracuse, gentle to his citizens, bearing no
 envious grudge against good men, a marvellous father to his guests. If I had
 reached his shores bringing a double blessing, golden health and a
 victory-song to add brilliance to his garlands from the Pythian games, which
 once Pherenicus took when he was the best at Cirrha ,

I say that I would have come across the deep sea to him as a light
 that shines farther than a star of the sky.

But I, for my part, want to offer a prayer to the Mother, the revered
 goddess whose praises, with those of Pan, girls often sing at night beside
 my doorway.

Hieron, if you are skilled in understanding the true essence of
 words, you have learned and know the saying of former times: “The immortals
 dispense to men two pains for every blessing.” Fools cannot bear their pain
 with grace, but noble men can, by turning the good side outwards.

It is your lot to be attended by good fortune.

For great destiny watches over the leader of the people, the tyrant,
 if over any man. But a secure life was not granted either to Peleus son of
 Aeacus or to godlike Cadmus; yet they are said to have attained the highest
 prosperity of all mortal men, since

they heard the Muses of the golden headbands singing on the mountain
 and in seven-gated Thebes , when
 Cadmus married ox-eyed Harmonia, and Peleus married the famous daughter of
 wise Nereus.

And the gods held feasts for both of them, and they saw the royal
 sons of Cronus on their golden seats, and they received

wedding gifts. By the grace of Zeus, they set their hearts right
 again from their former troubles. But in time Cadmus' three daughters, by
 their bitter suffering, took from him his share of joy; even though father
 Zeus had visited the desirable bed of white-armed Thyone.

And Peleus' son, the only child whom immortal Thetis bore in
 Phthia , had his life taken
 in battle by the bow, and roused the wailing of the Danaans while his body
 was burning on the pyre. But if any mortal has the path of truth in his
 mind, he must fare well at the hands of the gods as he has the opportunity.
 But the winds are changeable

that blow on high. The prosperity of men does not stay secure for
 long, when it follows weighing upon them in abundance.

I will be small when my fortunes are small, great when they are
 great. I will honor in my mind the fortune that attends me from day to day,
 tending it to the best of my ability.

But if a god were to give me luxurious wealth, I hope that I would
 find lofty fame in the future. We know of Nestor and Lycian Sarpedon, whom
 men speak of, from melodious words which skilled craftsmen join together.
 Through renowned songs excellence

gains a long life. But few find that easy to accomplish.

Today you must stand beside a beloved man, Muse, the king of Cyrene
 with its fine horses, so that while Arcesilas celebrates his triumph you may
 swell the fair wind of song that is due to the children of Leto and to
 Pytho , where once the
 priestess seated beside the golden eagles of Zeus,

on a day when Apollo happened to be present, gave an oracle naming
 Battus as the colonizer of fruitful Libya , and telling how he would at once leave the holy
 island and found a city of fine chariots on a shining white breast of the
 earth,

and carry out

in the seventeenth generation the word spoken at Thera by Medea, which once the inspired
 daughter of Aeetes, the queen of the Colchians, breathed forth from her
 immortal mouth. She spoke in this way to the heroes who sailed with the
 warrior Jason: “Hear me, sons of high-spirited men and of gods. For I say
 that from this wave-washed land one day the daughter of Epaphus

will have planted in her a root of cities that are dear to men, in
 the temple of Zeus Ammon.

Instead of short-finned dolphins they will have swift horses, and
 reins instead of oars, and they will drive storm-footed chariot teams. That
 token shall make

Thera the mother-city of great
 cities, the token which once, beside the out-flowing waters of lake
 Tritonis, Euphemus received as he descended from the prow, a clod of earth
 as a gift of friendship from a god in the likeness of a man. And as a sign
 of favor, Zeus the son of Cronus sounded a peal of thunder,

when the stranger found us hanging the bronze-jawed anchor

, the bridle of the swift Argo , against the ship. Before that we had been dragging
 our seafaring ship for twelve days from the Ocean over the deserted back of
 the land, having drawn it ashore by my counsels. And then the solitary god
 approached, who had assumed the splendid appearance of an honored man. He
 began to speak friendly words,

such as beneficent hosts use when they first invite arriving
 strangers to a meal.

But we could not stay, for the plea of our sweet homecoming prevented
 us from lingering. He said that he was Eurypylus, the son of the holder of
 the earth, the immortal earth-shaker Poseidon. He realized that we were
 hurrying on our way, and straightaway with his right hand he snatched up a
 piece of earth,

the first thing to come to hand, and sought to present it as a gift
 of hospitality. He did not fail to persuade Euphemus; the hero leapt down
 onto the shore, and, pressing his hand in the hand of the stranger, received
 the divine clod of earth. But now I learn that it was washed out of the ship
 into the sea by a wave

at evening, following the watery tide. Truly, I often urged the
 sailors who relieve their masters from toil to guard it; but their minds
 were forgetful, and now on this island the immortal seed of spacious
 Libya is washed ashore before
 the proper time. For if only Euphemus had gone to his home in holy Taenarus
 and cast the clod beside the earthly mouth of Hades—

Euphemus the son of lord Poseidon, ruler of horses, whom once Europa
 the daughter of Tityus bore beside the banks of the Cephisus—

the blood of the fourth generation descended from him would have
 taken possession of that broad continent together with the Danaans; for then
 they will be uprooted from Lacedaemon and the Argive gulf and Mycenae .

As it is, Euphemus shall find in the beds of foreign women a chosen
 race, who, with the honor of the gods, will come to this island and beget a
 man who will be master of the dark-clouded plains; whom one day Phoebus, in
 his home rich in gold, will mention in his oracles

when he goes into the Pythian shrine at a later time; Phoebus will
 tell him to carry cities in his ships to the fertile precinct of the son of
 Cronus beside the Nile .” Indeed,
 these were the oracular verses of Medea. And the godlike heroes bowed down
 motionless and in silence, listening to her shrewd words of wisdom. Battus,
 blessed son of Polymnestus, it was you that, in accord with this word of
 prophecy,

the oracle glorified by the spontaneous cry of the Delphic Bee, who
 three times loudly bid you hail, and declared that you were the destined
 king of Cyrene,

when you came to ask the oracle what relief the gods would grant you
 for your stammering voice. And even now, in later days, as in the prime of
 red-blossoming spring,

eighth in the line of Battus' descendants flourishes Arcesilas. To
 him Apollo and Pytho gave glory in
 the chariot race above those that live around. I will offer him, and the
 all-golden fleece of the ram, to the Muses as a theme for song. For when the
 Minyans sailed after that fleece, divinely-sent honors were planted for his
 race.

What beginning of their seafaring welcomed them? What danger bound
 them with strong bolts of adamant? There was a divine prophecy that Pelias
 would be killed by the illustrious descendants of Aeolus, either at their
 hands or through their unflinching counsels; and an oracle came to him that
 chilled his shrewd spirit, spoken beside the central navel of well-wooded
 mother earth:

to be on careful guard in every way against a man with one sandal,
 whenever he should come from the homesteads in the steep mountains to the
 sunny land of famous Iolcus,

whether he be stranger or citizen. And in time he arrived: an awesome
 man armed with two spears. He wore two different types of clothing:

his native Magnesian dress fitted to his marvellous limbs, and a
 leopard-skin wrapped around him protected him from shivering showers. His
 splendid locks of hair had not been cut away, but flowed shining down his
 back. He quickly went straight ahead, making trial of his dauntless spirit, and stood

in the marketplace crowded with people.

They did not recognize him. Nevertheless, one of the awed onlookers
 said even this: “Surely this is not Apollo, nor Ares, the husband of
 Aphrodite, with his bronze chariot. And they say that the sons of
 Iphimedeia—Otus and you, bold lord Ephialtes—died in splendid Naxos .

And indeed Tityus was hunted down by the swift arrow of Artemis,
 which she sped from her unconquerable quiver, so that men might desire to
 touch only the loves that are within their reach.”

They said such things among themselves; and Pelias arrived, rushing
 headlong with his mule team and his polished chariot.

He was instantly astonished, looking at the single sandal, plain to
 see on the stranger's right foot. But he hid his fear in his heart and said:
 “What country, stranger, do you claim as your fatherland? And what woman, of
 mortals on earth, bore you from her aged womb? Do not befoul your story with
 most hateful lies,

but tell me of your birth.”

And the stranger boldly answered him with gentle words, in this way:
 “I say that I am going to bring the teaching of Cheiron; for I come from his
 cave, from the presence of Chariclo and Philyra, where the holy daughters of
 the Centaur raised me. Living twenty years without

having said or done anything shameful in their house, I have come to
 my home to recover the ancient honor of my father, now held improperly,
 which once Zeus granted to Aeolus, the leader of the people, and to his
 sons.

For I hear that lawless Pelias, yielding to his empty mind,

violently robbed it from my parents, who were the rulers by right.
 When I first saw the light, they feared the arrogance of the monstrous
 ruler, and made a show of dark mourning in the home, with the wailing of
 women as if someone had died, and sent me away secretly, in purple swaddling
 clothes,

making the night my escort on the journey, and gave me to Cheiron
 the son of Cronus to rear.

But you know the chief points of this story. Good citizens, show me
 clearly the home of my ancestors, who rode on white horses. For I am the son
 of Aeson, and a native; I do not arrive in a strange foreign land. The divine
 centaur called me by the name Jason.”

So he spoke; and as he entered his father's eyes recognized him, and
 tears burst forth from his aged eyelids, for his soul rejoiced when he saw
 his son, the choicest and most handsome of men.

And both his father's brothers

came when they heard the report of Jason. Pheres was near by; he
 came from the Hypereian spring, and Amythaon came from Messene . Admetus and Melampus came
 quickly, showing kindness to their cousin. And while they joined in the
 banquet, Jason, welcoming them with gentle words and offering them fitting
 hospitality, extended every kind of joyfulness,

reaping the sacred bloom of good living for five full nights and as
 many days.

But on the sixth day, speaking in earnest, Jason confided the entire
 story from the beginning to his kinsmen; and they took his side. At once he
 hurried from the camp with them, and they came to the hall of Pelias.

They rushed in, and took their stand. And when Pelias heard them he
 came to meet them himself, the son of Tyro with beautiful hair. And Jason,
 with his soothing voice distilling gentle language, laid the foundation of
 skillful words: “Son of Poseidon, Cleaver of the Rock,

the minds of mortals are all too swift

to praise crafty gain rather than justice, although they are moving
 towards a harsh reckoning. But you and I must govern our tempers rightly and
 weave our future prosperity. You know what I am going to say. A single cow
 was mother to Cretheus and to bold-thinking Salmoneus. And now we, sprung
 from them in the third generation, look on the golden strength of the sun.

May the Fates withdraw if there is any hatred between members of the
 same family, which blots out reverence.

It is not right for us to resort to swords of sharp bronze or spears
 in dividing the great honors of our ancestors. I leave you the flocks, and
 the golden herds of cattle, and all the fields, which you keep, having
 stolen them

from my ancestors, feeding fat your wealth; and it does not grieve
 me that they provide for your household beyond all measure. But as for the
 royal scepter and the throne, in which Aeson son of Cretheus once sat, and
 dispensed straight justice for a nation of horsemen: without any distress
 between us,

release these to me, lest some more disturbing evil arise from
 them.” So he spoke. And Pelias answered softly: “I will be such a man as you
 ask. But already old age attends me, while the flower of your youth is now
 swelling. You have it in your power to remove the anger of the gods below.
 For Phrixus asks us to bring his soul home,

going to the halls of Aeetes, and to recover the deep-fleeced hide
 of the ram, on which he was once saved from the sea

and from the impious weapons of his stepmother. A marvellous dream
 came and told me these things, and I have asked the oracle at Castalia
 whether it must be pursued; and the oracle urges me to make ready as soon as
 possible a ship to escort him home.

Willingly fulfill this quest, and I swear that I will deliver up to
 you the royal power and the kingdom. And, as a mighty oath, may Zeus, who is
 ancestor to us both, be our witness.” They approved this agreement, and they
 parted. And Jason himself at once

sent messengers everywhere to announce the voyage. Soon there came
 the three sons, untiring in battle, whom dark-eyed Alcmena and Leda bore to
 Zeus son of Cronus; and two high-haired men, sons of the earth-shaker,
 obeying their innate valor, one from Pylos and the other from the headland of Taenarus; you both
 achieved

noble fame, Euphemus and wide-ruling Periclymenus. And from Apollo
 the lyre-player came, the father of songs, much-praised Orpheus.

And Hermes of the golden wand sent two sons to take part in the
 unabating toil, Echion and Erytus, bursting with youth. Swiftly

came those that dwell around the foothills of Mount Pangaeon, for
 with a smiling spirit their father Boreas, king of the winds, quickly and
 willingly equipped Zetes and Calais 
 with purple wings bristling down their backs. And Hera kindled in the
 demigods an all-persuasive sweet longing

for the ship Argo, so that no one would be left behind to stay by
 his mother's side, nursing a life without danger, but even at the risk of
 death would find the finest elixir of excellence together with his other
 companions. When the choicest seamen came down to Iolcus, Jason reviewed and
 praised them all; and

the seer Mopsus, making his prophecy from birds and the casting of
 sacred lots, gladly gave the men the signal to set out. And when they hung
 the anchor over the ship's ram,

the leader, standing at the stern, took in his hands a golden goblet
 and called on the father of Uranus' descendants, Zeus whose spear is the
 thunderbolt; and he called on the

swift-rushing waves and winds, and on the nights, and the paths of
 the sea, and the propitious days, and on the kindly fortune of their
 homecoming.. And from the clouds there answered an auspicious peal of
 thunder, and bright flashes of lightning came bursting forth, and the heroes
 drew a breath of relief, trusting in the sign of the god.

The seer shouted to them

to throw themselves into the oars, announcing that their hopes were
 sweet; and the rowing sped on under their swift hands, insatiably. Escorted
 by the breezes of the South wind, they reached the mouth of the Inhospitable
 Sea, and there they set up a holy precinct to Poseidon, god of the sea;

there was a herd of red Thracian bulls, and a newly-built hollow of
 altar stones. And as they rushed into deep danger, they entreated the lord
 of ships

that they might escape the irresistible onset of the clashing rocks.
 There was a pair of them; they were alive, and they rolled onward more
 swiftly

than the battle-lines of the loud-thundering winds. But that voyage
 of the demigods put an end to them. And then the Argonauts came to
 Phasis , where they clashed
 with the dark-faced Colchians in the realm of Aeetes himself. And the queen
 of sharpest arrows brought the dappled wryneck from Olympus , bound to the four spokes

of the indissoluble wheel:

Aphrodite of Cyprus brought
 the maddening bird to men for the first time, and she taught the son of
 Aeson skill in prayerful incantations, so that he could rob Medea of
 reverence for her parents, and a longing for Greece would lash her, her mind on fire, with the whip of
 Persuasion.

And she quickly revealed the means of performing the labors set by
 her father; and she mixed drugs with olive oil as a remedy for hard pains,
 and gave it to him to anoint himself. They agreed to be united with each
 other in sweet wedlock.

But when Aeetes placed in their midst the adamantine plough

and the oxen, who breathed the flame of burning fire from their
 golden jaws and stamped at the earth in turn with their bronze hoofs, he led
 them along and single-handedly brought them under the yoke. And he drove
 them, stretching the furrows straight, and split the back of the clodded
 earth, a fathom deep. Then he spoke in this way: “Let your king,

whoever commands the ship, complete this work for me; then let him
 carry off the immortal coverlet,

the fleece gleaming with its golden fringe.” When he had spoken
 thus, Jason threw off his saffron cloak and, trusting in the god, set his
 hand to the task. The fire did not touch him; he followed the advice of the
 foreign woman who knew every kind of remedy. He grasped the plough, and
 bound the necks of the oxen in the irresistible

harness, and prodding their strong-ribbed bulk with the unceasing
 goad the powerful man accomplished the allotted measure of his task. And
 Aeetes wailed, though his cry was silent, amazed at Jason's strength.

His companions stretched their friendly hands towards the mighty
 man,

and crowned him with garlands of laurel, and greeted him with gentle
 words. But at once the marvellous son of Helios spoke of the shining fleece,
 telling where the sword of Phrixus had stretched it out. He expected that
 Jason would not be able to accomplish this further labor. For the fleece lay
 in a thicket, held in the ravening jaws of a serpent,

which in thickness and length surpassed a ship with fifty oars,
 built by the blows of a hammer.

It is too long a way for me to go by the beaten track; for time
 presses, and I know a shortcut. In poetic skill I am a guide to many others.
 Jason killed the gray-eyed serpent with its dappled back by cunning,

Arcesilas, and stole away Medea, with her own help, to be the death
 of Pelias. And they reached the expanses of Ocean, and the Red Sea , and the race of the Lemnian
 women, who killed their husbands. There they displayed their prowess of
 limbs in athletic contests with a cloak for a prize,

and they went to bed with the women. In foreign

fields then the fated day, or night, received the seed of your
 shining prosperity; for there the race of Euphemus was planted, to continue
 forever. And having gone to share the home of the Lacedaemonians, in time
 they left to settle the island once called Calliste . From there the son of Leto granted that your
 race should bring prosperity to the plain of Libya

, with the honor of the gods, and govern the divine city of
 golden-throned Cyrene,

having discovered the wisdom of right counsel. Now, learn the skill
 of Oedipus: if a man, with a sharp-cutting axe, cuts the branches from a
 great oak, and spoils its marvellous beauty,

even with its fruit destroyed it votes for its own worth, if it
 comes at last to the winter fire; or if it is placed with upright columns
 belonging to a ruler, performing a slavish service among foreign walls,
 having deserted its native place.

But you are a most opportune healer, and Apollo Paean honors your
 light. One must apply a gentle hand to tend a sore wound: it is easy even
 for weak men to shake a city to its foundations, but to set it in its place
 again is indeed a difficult struggle, unless a god suddenly comes to guide
 its rulers.

These blessings are woven out for you: be bold, and apply all
 earnestness for the sake of fortunate Cyrene.

Of the sayings of Homer, take to heart and heed this one: “a noble
 messenger,” he said, “brings the greatest honor to every business.” Even the
 Muse is exalted by a correct message. Cyrene

and the most renowned hall of Battus recognized the just mind of
 Damophilus; a young man among boys, and in counsels like an elder who has
 lived a hundred years, he robs the evil tongue of its brash voice, and he
 has learned to hate the arrogant;

he does not struggle against good men, or postpone any decisive
 action, for the right moment has a brief measure in the eyes of men. He
 recognizes it well, and he serves it as an attendant, not a slave. But they
 say that this is the most grievous thing of all, to recognize what is good
 and to be debarred from it by compulsion. And truly he, like Atlas,

now strains against the weight of the sky, far from his ancestral
 land and his possessions. But immortal Zeus freed the Titans; and in time,
 when the wind ceases, there are changes

of sails. But he prays that at some time, when he has drained to the
 dregs his cup of ruinous affliction, he will see his home, and, joining the
 symposium near the spring of Apollo,

yield his spirit often to the joys of youth, and attain peace,
 holding the well-made lyre among his skillful fellow citizens, bringing no
 pain to anyone, and himself unharmed by his townsmen. Then he would tell
 you, Arcesilas, what a fountain of immortal song he found, when he was
 recently entertained by his host at Thebes .

Wealth is widely powerful, whenever a mortal man receives it, blended
 with pure excellence, from the hands of fortune, and takes it as a companion
 that makes many friends.

Arcesilas, favored by the gods, from the first steps of your famous
 life you seek for it with glory, by the grace of Castor with his golden
 chariot,

who, after the wintry storm, sheds calm on your blessed hearth.

Skillful men are better able to bear even god-given power. Great
 prosperity surrounds you, as you walk with justice.

First, since you are a king of great cities, your inborn eye looks on
 this as a most revered prize of honor, united with your mind;

and you are blessed even now, because you have already earned the
 boast of victory with your horses from the renowned Pythian festival, and
 you will welcome this victory-procession of men,

a delight for Apollo. And so, do not forget, when you are celebrated
 in song around Cyrene's sweet garden of Aphrodite,

to set the god in the highest place as the cause of all things, and
 to love Carrhotus above all your companions. He did not bring with him
 Excuse, the daughter of late-thinking Afterthought, when he came to the
 house of the descendants of Battus who rule by right;

but he was welcomed beside the waters of Castalia, and he flung over
 your hair the prize of honor for the victorious chariot;

his reins were undamaged in the precinct of the twelve swift-footed
 courses. For he broke no part of his strong equipment; it hangs dedicated
 there,

all the handiwork of dextrous craftsmen, which he brought past the
 hill of Crisa to the hollow valley
 of the god. The cypress shrine keeps it

beside the statue which the Cretan bowmen set up in the Parnassian
 chamber, carved from a single piece of wood.

Therefore it is fitting to welcome a benefactor with a willing mind.

Son of Alexibias, the lovely-haired Graces make you radiant. You are
 blessed, you who have, even after great hardship, a memorial of the best
 words. For among forty

drivers who fell, having brought your chariot through unscathed with
 a fearless mind, you have come now from the splendid games to the plain of
 Libya and your ancestral city.

But no man is without a share of toils, or ever will be.

Yet the ancient prosperity of Battus continues, despite its
 dispensation of both good and bad, a tower of the city and a most brilliant
 shining eye to strangers. Even loud-roaring lions fled in fear from Battus,
 when he unleashed on them his voice from across the sea.

And Apollo, the first leader, doomed the beasts to dread fear, so
 that his oracles to the guardian of Cyrene would not go unfulfilled.

It is Apollo who dispenses remedies to men and women for grievous
 diseases,

and who bestowed on us the cithara, and gives the Muses' inspiration
 to whomever he will, bringing peaceful concord into the mind, and who
 possesses the oracular shrine; wherefore he settled the mighty descendants
 of Heracles and Aegimius in Lacedaemon

and in Argos and in sacred
 Pylos . But it is my part to
 sing of the lovely glory that comes from Sparta ,

where the Aegeidae were born, and from there

they went to Thera , my
 ancestors, not without the gods; they were led by a certain fate. From there
 we have received the feast with its many sacrifices, and at your

banquet, Carneian Apollo, we honor the well-built city of Cyrene,
 which is held by foreigners who delight in bronze, the Trojan descendants of
 Antenor. For they came with Helen, after they had seen their native city
 consumed in the smoke

of war. And that horse-driving race was faithfully welcomed with
 sacrifices by men who came to them bringing gifts, men whom Aristoteles
 led, when, with his swift
 ships, he opened a deep path across the sea. And he founded precincts of the
 gods that were greater than before,

and he established, for the processions of Apollo, protector of men,
 a straight cut, level, paved road for the clatter of horses' hooves, where
 at the edge of the marketplace he rests by himself in death.

He was blessed when he dwelled among men,

and thereafter a hero worshipped by the people. Apart from him, in
 front of the houses, are the other sacred kings who took their allotted
 places in Hades, and somehow below the earth they hear, in their minds,
 great excellence sprinkled with gentle dew

by the outpourings of victory-songs—prosperity for themselves, and a
 justly earned and shared grace for their son Arcesilas. It is fitting for
 him, in the song of the young men, to celebrate Phoebus with his golden
 sword,

now that he has received from Pytho the graceful victory-song as a compensation for his
 expense. Intelligent men praise him. I will say what has been said by
 others:

he nurtures a mind and tongue that are beyond his years; in courage
 he is a long-winged eagle among birds; his strength in competition is like a
 bulwark. Among the Muses, he has had wings since he was a child in his dear
 mother's lap,

and he has proved himself a skillful charioteer.

He has boldly tried every local opportunity for fine deeds, and now
 a god gladly brings his power to perfection; and in the future, blessed sons
 of Cronus, grant him the same, both in deeds and in counsels,

lest some fruit-destroying blast of winter wind quell his life. The
 great mind of Zeus steers the fortune of men that he loves. I pray to him

to grant another prize of honor at Olympia to the race of Battus.

Listen! for we are again ploughing the field of dark-eyed Aphrodite,
 or of the Graces, as we approach the sacred navel of the loud-roaring land;

where, for the prosperous Emmenids and Acragas on the river, and
 especially for Xenocrates, a Pythian victor's treasure-house of songs has
 been built and is ready in the glen of Apollo, rich in gold.

It is buffeted by neither the invading onset of winter rain, the
 loud-roaring cloud's pitiless army, nor the wind that sweeps all kinds of
 rubble into the depths of the sea. Its facade, shining in pure light,

will announce your chariot victory to the speech of men and make it
 famous—the victory you share with your father and your race, Thrasybulus,
 won in the vales of Crisa .

You keep it on your right hand and

uphold the commandment, one of the precepts which they say once in
 the mountains the son of Philyra enjoined on the powerful son of Peleus,
 when he was separated from his parents: first of the gods, worship the son
 of Cronus, the loud-voiced ruler of lightning and thunder;

and never deprive your parents of such honor during their allotted
 lifetime.

Long ago, too, powerful Antilochus showed that he had this way of
 thinking;

he died for his father's sake, by awaiting the man-slaying commander
 of the Ethiopians, Memnon. For the horse kept Nestor's chariot from moving,
 since it had been wounded by Paris 
 ' arrows; and Memnon was aiming his strong spear.

The old man of Messene ,
 his mind reeling, shouted to his son;

the cry he hurled did not fall to the ground; his god-like son stayed
 on the spot and paid for his father's rescue with his own life,

and because he accomplished this tremendous deed he seemed to the
 younger men to be the greatest man of his time in excellence towards his
 parents. These things are past. Of men alive today, Thrasybulus

more than anyone has approached his father' s standard,

and he rivals his father's brother in every splendor. He manages his
 wealth with intelligence, reaping not an unjust or arrogant youth, but the
 wisdom found in the quiet haunts of the Pierian Muses.

Earth-shaking Poseidon, he is devoted to you, who rule over
 horse-races, and his thoughts are pleasing to you. His sweet temperament,
 when he associates with his drinking companions, surpasses even the bee's
 intricate honeycomb.

The great city of Athens is the most beautiful prelude of song, which
 the widely powerful race of the Alcmaeonids can lay as a foundation of odes
 in honor of their horses.

What fatherland, what family will you name that is more illustrious in
 Greece ?

For in all cities the story

of the citizens of Erechtheus makes the rounds, Apollo, how they made
 your dwelling in divine Pytho a
 marvel to see. Five Isthmian victories lead my song forward, and one
 outstanding triumph

at Zeus' Olympian games, and two from Cirrha —

yours, Megacles, and your ancestors'. I rejoice at this new success;
 but I grieve that fine deeds are repaid with envy.

It is true what they say: the abiding bloom of good fortune brings
 with it both good and bad.

Kindly Peace, daughter of Justice, you who make cities great, holding
 the supreme keys of counsels and of wars,

receive this honor due to Aristomenes for his Pythian victory. For you
 know both how to give and how to receive gentleness, with precise timing.

And yet, whenever anyone drives pitiless anger into his heart,

you meet the strength of your enemies roughly, sinking Arrogance in
 the flood. Porphyrion did not know your power, when he provoked you beyond
 all measure. Gain is most welcome, when one takes it from the home of a
 willing giver.

Violence trips up even a man of great pride, in time. Cilician Typhon
 with his hundred heads did not escape you, nor indeed did the king of the
 Giants. One was subdued by the thunderbolt,
 the other by the bow of Apollo, who with a gracious mind welcomed the son of
 Xenarces on his return from Cirrha 
 , crowned with

a garland of laurel from Parnassus and with Dorian victory-song.

His island with her just city has not fallen far from the Graces,
 having attained the famous excellence of the Aeacidae; she has had perfect

glory from the beginning. She is praised in song for having fostered
 heroes who were supreme in many victory-bearing contests and in swift
 battles;

and she is distinguished in these things even for her men. But I do
 not have the time to set up

their whole long story to the lyre and the gentle voice, for fear
 that satiety would come and distress us. But my debt to you, child, which
 comes running at my feet, your latest fine achievement, let it fly on the
 wings of my artfulness.

For in wrestling you follow in the footsteps of your mother's
 brothers, and you do not disgrace Theognetus at Olympia , nor the bold-limbed victory
 of Cleitomachus at the Isthmus. And by exalting the clan of the Midylids,
 you fulfill the prophecy which once Amphiaraus the son of Oicles spoke in
 riddling words, when he saw, in seven-gated

Thebes , those sons standing by
 their spears,

when they came from Argos 
 on that second march, the Epigoni. Thus he spoke, while they were fighting:
 “By nature the genuine spirit of the fathers

is conspicuous in the sons. I clearly see Alcmaeon, wielding a
 dappled serpent on his blazing shield, the first at the gates of Cadmus.

And he who suffered in the earlier disaster, the hero Adrastus, now
 has the tidings of a better

bird of omen. But at home his luck will be the opposite. For he alone
 of the Danaan army will gather the bones of his dead son, by the fortune
 sent from the gods, and come with his people unharmed

to the spacious streets of Argos , the city of Abas.” So spoke Amphiaraus. And I
 myself rejoice as I fling garlands over Alcmaeon and sprinkle him with song,
 because this hero is my neighbor and guardian of my possessions, and he met
 me when I was going to the songful navel of the earth,

and he touched on prophecies with his inborn arts.

And you, Apollo, shooting from afar, you who govern the glorious
 temple, hospitable to all, in the hollows of Pytho , there you granted the greatest of joys.

And before, in your festival at home, you brought him a coveted gift
 for the pentathlon. Lord, I pray that with a willing mind

I may observe a certain harmony on every step of my way.

Justice stands beside the sweet-singing victory procession. I pray
 that the gods may regard your fortunes without envy, Xenarces. For if anyone
 has noble achievements without long toil, to many he seems to be a skillful
 man among the foolish,

arming his life with the resources of right counsel. But these things
 do not depend on men. It is a god who grants them; raising up one man and
 throwing down another. Enter the struggle with due measure. You have won a
 prize of honor at Megara , and
 in the valley of Marathon; and at the local contest of Hera

you were dominant in action with three victories, Aristomenes.

And you fell from above on the bodies of four opponents, with grim
 intent; to them no cheerful homecoming was allotted, as it was to you, at
 the Pythian festival;

nor, when they returned to their mothers, did sweet laughter awaken
 joy. They slink along the back-streets, away from their enemies, bitten by
 misfortune.

But he who has gained some fine new thing in his great opulence

flies beyond hope on the wings of his manliness, with ambitions that
 are greater than wealth. But the delight of mortals grows in a short time,
 and then it falls to the ground, shaken by an adverse thought.

Creatures of a day. What is someone? What is no one? Man is the dream
 of a shadow. But when the brilliance given by Zeus comes, a shining light is
 on man, and a gentle lifetime. Dear mother Aegina, convey this city on her
 voyage of freedom, with the blessing of Zeus, and the ruler Aeacus,

and Peleus, and good Telamon, and Achilles.

With the help of the deep-waisted Graces I want to shout aloud
 proclaiming the Pythian victory with the bronze shield of Telesicrates, a
 prosperous man, the crowning glory of chariot-driving Cyrene;

the long-haired son of Leto once snatched her from the wind-echoing
 glens of Mt. Pelion, and carried the girl of the wilds in his golden chariot
 to a place where he made her mistress of a land rich in flocks and most rich
 in fruits, to live and flourish on the root of the third continent.

Silver-footed Aphrodite welcomed

the Delian guest from his chariot, touching him with a light hand,
 and she cast lovely modesty on their sweet union, joining together in a
 common bond of marriage the god and the daughter of wide-ruling Hypseus. He
 was at that time king of the proud Lapiths, a hero of the second generation
 from Oceanus;

in the renowned glens of Mt. Pindus a Naiad bore him, Creusa the
 daughter of Gaia, delighting in the bed of the river-god Peneius.

And Hypseus raised his lovely-armed daughter Cyrene. She did not care
 for pacing back and forth at the loom, nor for the delights of luncheons
 with her stay-at-home companions;

instead, fighting with bronze javelins and with a sword, she killed
 wild beasts, providing great restful peace for her father's cattle; but as
 for her sweet bed-fellow, sleep,

she spent only a little of it on her eyelids as it fell on them
 towards dawn.

Once the god of the broad quiver, Apollo who works from afar, came
 upon her wrestling alone and without spears with a terrible lion.
 Immediately he called Cheiron from out of his halls and spoke to him:

“Leave your sacred cave, son of Philyra, and marvel at the spirit and
 great strength of this woman; look at what a struggle she is engaged in,
 with a fearless head, this young girl with a heart more than equal to any
 toil; her mind is not shaken with the cold wind of fear. From what mortal
 was she born? From what stock has this cutting been taken,

that she should be living in the hollows of the shady mountains

and putting to the test her boundless valor? Is it lawful to lay my renowned hand on her? And to
 cut the honey-sweet grass of her bed?” And the powerful Centaur, laughing
 softly with a gentle brow, right away gave his wise advice in reply: “Hidden
 are skilled Persuasion's keys to holy love,

Phoebus, and both gods and men blush to take the pleasure of a bed
 for the first time openly.

For even in your case, for whom it is unlawful to touch on falsehood,
 a gentle impulse has swayed you to dissemble your words. You ask me from
 what race the girl comes, lord Apollo? You who know the appointed end of all
 things,

and all the paths that lead to them? And how many leaves the earth
 puts forth in spring, and how many grains of sand in the sea and in rivers
 are dashed by the waves and the gusting winds; and that which will be, and
 from where it will come, all this you clearly see.

But if I must match myself even against one who is wise,

I will speak. You came to this glen to be her husband, and you will
 bear her over the sea to the choicest garden of Zeus, where you will make
 her the ruler of a city, when you have gathered the island-people

to the hill encircled by plains. And now queen Libya of the broad meadows will gladly
 welcome your glorious bride in her golden halls. There she will right away
 give her a portion of land to flourish with her as her lawful possession,
 not without tribute of all kinds of fruit, nor unfamiliar with wild animals.

There she will bear a child, whom famous Hermes

will take from beneath his own dear mother and carry to the Seasons
 on their lovely thrones and to Gaia. They will admire the baby on their
 knees and drop nectar and ambrosia on his lips, and they will make him
 immortal, to be called Zeus and holy Apollo, a delight to men he loves, an
 ever-present guardian of flocks,

Agreus and Nomius, and others will call him Aristaeus.” Having spoken
 thus, Cheiron urged the god to fulfill the delightful consummation of his
 marriage.

Accomplishment is swift when the gods are already hurrying, and the
 roads are short. That very day decided the matter. They lay together in the
 bedchamber of Libya , rich in gold,
 where she possesses a most beautiful city

which is renowned for victories in contests. And now in very holy
 Pytho , where by his victory he
 had Cyrene proclaimed, the son of Carneiades brought lovely, flourishing
 good fortune to her; she will welcome him graciously, when he brings back
 home to the land of beautiful women

desirable fame from Delphi .

Great excellence can always inspire many stories; but to embroider a
 short account from a lengthy theme is what wise men love to hear. Right
 proportion in the same way contains the gist of the whole; as seven-gated
 Thebes once knew well,

Telesicrates was not dishonored by Iolaus; when he had cut off the
 head of Eurystheus with the edge of his sword, he was buried below the earth
 by the tomb of the charioteer Amphitryon, his father's father, where he lay
 as the guest of the Sown Men, having come to dwell in the streets of the
 Cadmeans, who ride on white horses.

Wise Alcmena lay with Amphitryon and with Zeus, and bore

in a single birth twin sons, strong and victorious in battle. Only a
 mute man does not have Heracles' name on his lips, and does not always
 remember the waters of Dirce, which reared him and Iphicles. To them I will
 sing a victory-song for the fulfillment of my prayer;

may the pure light of the clear-voiced Graces not desert me. For I
 say that I have praised this city three times, in Aegina and on the hill of Nisus,

truly escaping silent helplessness. Therefore, whether a man is
 friendly or hostile among the citizens, let him not obscure a thing that is
 done well for the common good and so dishonor the precept of the old man of
 the sea,

who said to praise with all your spirit, and with justice, even an
 enemy when he accomplishes fine deeds. The women saw your many victories at
 the seasonal rites of Pallas, and each silently prayed that you could be her
 dear husband,

Telesicrates, or her son;

and in the Attic Olympia too, and in the contests of deep-bosomed
 Mother Earth , and in all your
 local games. But while I am quenching my thirst for song, someone exacts an
 unpaid debt from me, to awake again

the ancient glory of his ancestors as well: for the sake of a Libyan
 woman they went to the city of Irasa, as suitors of the very famous daughter
 of Antaeus with the beautiful hair. Many excellent kinsmen sought her, and
 many strangers too, since her beauty was marvellous.

They wanted

to pluck the flowering fruit of golden-crowned Youth. But her
 father, cultivating for his daughter a more renowned marriage, heard how
 Danaus once in Argos had found
 for his forty-eight daughters, before noon overtook them, a very swift
 marriage. For right away he stood the whole band of suitors at the end of a
 course,

and told them to decide with a footrace which of the heroes, who
 came to be bridegrooms, would take which bride.

The Libyan too made such an offer in joining his daughter with a
 husband. He placed her at the goal, when he had arrayed her as the crowning
 prize, and in their midst he announced that that man should lead her to his
 home, whoever was the first to leap forward

and touch her robes. There Alexidamus, when he had sped to the front
 of the swift race, took the noble girl's hand in his hand and led her
 through the crowd of Nomad horsemen. They cast on that man many leaves and
 garlands,

and before he had received many wings for his victories.

Lacedaemon is prosperous; Thessaly
 is divinely blessed. Both are ruled by the race of a single ancestor,
 Heracles, the best in battle. Why do I make this untimely boast? Because
 Pytho summons me, and Pelinna ,

and the sons of Aleuas; they want me to present to Hippocleas the
 glorious voices of men in celebration.

For he is trying his hand at contests, and the gorge of Parnassus proclaimed him to the people
 that live around as the greatest of the boys in the double-course footrace.

Apollo, the end and the beginning both grow sweet when a god urges on
 a man«s work. No doubt he accomplished this with the help of your counsels.
 Kinship has stepped into the footprints of the father,

who was twice an Olympic victor in the war-enduring armor of Ares;

and the contest in the deep meadow that stretches beneath the rock of
 Cirrha made Phricias victorious
 in the race. May a good fate follow them in their future days as well, so
 that their noble wealth will blossom;

having received no small share of the delights of Greece , may they encounter no envious
 reversals at the hands of the gods. A god«s heart should be free from pain;
 but a man is considered fortunate, and wise poets sing his praises, if he
 wins victory with his hands or the excellence of his feet, and takes the
 greatest prizes through his courage and strength,

and lives to see his young son duly winning Pythian garlands. He can
 never set foot in the bronze heavens; but whatever splendor we mortals can
 attain, he reaches the limit of that voyage. Neither by ship nor on foot
 could you find

the marvellous road to the meeting-place of the Hyperboreans—

Once Perseus, the leader of his people, entered their homes and
 feasted among them, when he found them sacrificing glorious hecatombs of
 donkeys to the god. In the festivities of those people

and in their praises Apollo rejoices most, and he laughs when he sees
 the erect arrogance of the beasts.

The Muse is not absent from their customs; all around swirl the
 dances of girls, the lyre«s loud chords and the cries of flutes.

They wreathe their hair with golden laurel branches and revel
 joyfully. No sickness or ruinous old age is mixed into that sacred race;
 without toil or battles

they live without fear of strict Nemesis. Breathing boldness of
 spirit

once the son of Danae went to that gathering of blessed men, and
 Athena led him there. He killed the Gorgon, and came back bringing stony
 death to the islanders, the head that shimmered with hair made of serpents.
 To me

nothing that the gods accomplish ever appears

unbelievable, however miraculous. Hold the oar! Quick, let the anchor
 down from the prow to touch the bottom, to protect us from the rocky reef.
 The choicest hymn of praise flits from theme to theme, like a bee.

And I hope that, while the Ephyreans pour forth my sweet voice beside
 the Peneius, with my songs I will make Hippocleas even more admired for his
 garlands by boys his age and by his elders, and I will make the girls think
 of him. For

people«s minds are tickled by various desires;

but whatever each man strives for, let him hold on to it eagerly if
 he gets it, the concern that is close at hand. It is impossible to foresee
 what will happen a year from now. I trust in the gentle friendship of
 Thorax; he made busy efforts for my sake,

and yoked this four-horse chariot of the Pierian Muses, a friend for
 a friend, going gladly arm in arm.

Gold shows its nature when it is tried by the touchstone, and so does
 a right-thinking mind. We shall further praise his noble brothers, because

they exalt and strengthen the traditional laws of the Thessaliaaans;
 the good piloting of states, handed from father to son, rests in the hands
 of noble men.

Daughters of Cadmus, Semele
 dwelling among the Olympians and Ino Leucothea, sharing the chamber of the
 Nereid sea-nymphs: come, with the mother of Heracles, greatest in birth, to
 the presence of Melia; come to the sanctuary of golden tripods,

the treasure-house which Loxias honored above all

and named the Ismenion, true seat of prophecy. Come, children of
 Harmonia, where even now he calls the native host of heroines to assemble,
 so that you may loudly sing of holy Themis and Pytho and the just

navel of the earth, at the edge of evening,

in honor of seven-gated Thebes and the contest at Cirrha , in which Thrasydaeus caused his
 ancestral hearth to be remembered by flinging over it a third wreath

as a victor in the rich fields of Pylades, the friend of Laconian
 Orestes,

who indeed, when his father was murdered, was taken by his nurse
 Arsinoe from the strong hands
 and bitter deceit of Clytaemnestra, when she sent the Dardanian daughter of
 Priam,

Cassandra, together with the soul of Agamemnon, to the shadowy bank
 of Acheron with her gray blade of
 bronze,

the pitiless woman. Was it Iphigeneia, slaughtered at the Euripus far
 from her fatherland, that provoked her to raise the heavy hand of her anger?
 Or was she vanquished by another bed

and led astray by their nightly sleeping together? This is the most
 hateful error for young brides, and is impossible to conceal

because other people will talk. Citizens are apt to speak evil, for
 prosperity brings with it envy as great as itself.

But the man who breathes close to the ground roars unseen. He himself
 died, the heroic son of Atreus, when at last he returned to famous Amyclae,

and he caused the destruction of the prophetic girl, when he had
 robbed of their opulent treasures the houses of the Trojans, set on fire for
 Helen«s sake. And his young son went to the friend of the family, the old
 man

Strophius, who dwelled at the foot of Parnassus . But at last, with the help of Ares, he killed
 his mother and laid Aegisthus low in blood.

My friends, I was whirled off the track at a shifting fork in the
 road, although I had been traveling on a straight path before. Or did some
 wind throw me off course,

like a skiff on the sea? Muse, it is your task, if you undertook to
 lend your voice for silver, to let it flit now this way, now that:

now to the father, who was a Pythian victor, now to his son
 Thrasydaeus.

Their joyfulness and renown shine brightly. With their chariots they
 were victorious long ago; they captured the swift radiance of the famous
 games at Olympia with their
 horses.

And at Pytho , when they
 entered the naked footrace, they put to shame

the Hellenic host with their speed. May I desire fine things from the
 gods, seeking what is possible at my time of life. For I have found that
 those of middle rank in a city flourish with longer prosperity, and I find
 fault with the lot of tyrannies.

I am intent upon common excellences. The evil workings of envy are
 warded off,

if a man who attains the summit and dwells in peace escapes dread
 arrogance. Such a man would go to the farthest shore of a dark death that is
 finer when he leaves to his sweetest offspring the grace of a good name, the
 best of possessions.

Such is the grace that spreads abroad the fame of the son of
 Iphicles,

Iolaus, whose praises are sung; and of the strength of Castor, and of
 you, lord Polydeuces, sons of the gods: you who dwell for one day at home in
 Therapne, and for the other in Olympus .

I beseech you, splendor-loving city, most beautiful on earth, home of
 Persephone; you who inhabit the hill of well-built dwellings above the banks
 of sheep-pasturing Acragas: be propitious, and with the goodwill of gods and
 men, mistress,

receive this victory garland from Pytho in honor of renowned Midas, and receive the victor
 himself, champion of Hellas in that
 art which once Pallas Athena discovered when she wove into music the dire
 dirge of the reckless Gorgons

which Perseus heard

pouring in slow anguish from beneath the horrible snakey hair of the
 maidens, when he did away with the third sister and brought death to
 sea-girt Seriphus and its people. Yes, he brought darkness on the monstrous
 race of Phorcus, and he repaid Polydectes with a deadly wedding-present for
 the long

slavery of his mother and her forced bridal bed; he stripped off the
 head of beautiful Medusa,

Perseus, the son of Danae, who they say was conceived in a
 spontaneous shower of gold. But when the virgin goddess had released that
 beloved man from those labors, she created the many-voiced song of flutes

so that she could imitate with musical instruments the shrill cry
 that reached her ears from the fast-moving jaws of Euryale. The goddess
 discovered it; but she discovered it for mortal men to have, and called it
 the many-headed strain, the glorious strain that entices the people to
 gather at contests,

often sounding through thin plates of brass and through reeds, which
 grow beside the city of lovely choruses, the city of the Graces, in the
 sacred precinct of the nymph of Cephisus, reeds that are the faithful
 witnesses of the dancers. If there is any prosperity among men, it does not
 appear without hardship. A god will indeed grant it in full today . . .

What is fated cannot be escaped. But that time will come, striking
 unexpectedly, and give one thing beyond all expectation, and withhold
 another.