And prove the fame of the Thessalians true."
Then grasped he a fair-wrought Dorian blade in hand,
And from his shoulder cast his graceful cloak, 820
Took Pylades for helper in his task,
And put the thralls back; seized the calf's foot then,
And bared the white flesh, stretching forth his arm,
And quicker flayed the hide than runner's feet
Twice round the turnings of the horse-course speed;[1] 825
So opened it. Aegisthus grasped the inwards,
And gazed thereon. No lobe the liver had:[2]
The gate-vein, the gall-bladder nigh thereto,
Portended perilous scathe to him that looked.
Scowling he stared; but straight my master asks: 830
"Why cast down, O mine host?" "A stranger's guile
I dread. Of all men hatefullest to me,
And foe to mine, is Agamemnon's son."
But he, "Go to: thou fear an exile's guile—
The King! That we on flesh of sacrifice 835
May feast, let one for this of Doris bring
A Phthian knife:[3] the breast-bone let me cleave."
So took, and cleft. Aegisthus grasped the inwards,
Parted, and gazed. Even as he bowed his head,
Thy brother strained himself full height, and smote 840
Down on his spine, and through his backbone's joints
- ↑ i.e. the time it would take a foot-runner to do the half-mile, a distance sufficiently long to be a standard distance for a horse-race.
- ↑ The quadrate lobe of the liver, if fully developed, would overlap the portal vein and gall-bladder. When, as sometimes happens, it was but rudimentary, the latter were exposed, and this was an evil omen.
- ↑ A heavy cleaver, better adapted both for his ostensible and for his real purpose.
