Their door-yards would scarcely know them, or Paris.

Small talk O Ilion, and O Troad twice taken by Oetian gods,

If Homer had not stated your case!

And I also among the later nephews of this city shall have my dog’s day

With no stone upon my contemptible sepulchre,

My vote coming from the temple of Phoebus in Lycia, at Patara,

And in the mean time my songs will travel,

And the devirginated young ladies will enjoy them when they have got over the strangeness,

For Orpheus tamed the wild beasts— and held up the Threician river;

And Citharaon shook up the rocks by Thebes and danced them into a bulwark at his pleasure,

And you, O Polyphemus? Did harsh Galatea almost

Turn to your dripping horses, because of a tune, under Aetna?

We must look into the matter.

Bacchus and Apollo in favour of it,

There will be a crowd of young women doing homage to my palaver,

Though my house is not propped up by Taenarian columns from Laconia  (associated with Neptune and Cerberus),

Though it is not stretched upon gilded beams;

My orchards do not lie level and wide

as the forests of Phaecia,

the luxurious and Ionian,

 Prev. P 3/99 next