The king himself initiates to the power:

Scatters with quivering hand the sacred flour,

And the stream sprinkles; from the curling brows

The hair collected in the fire he throws.

Soon as due vows on every part were paid,

And sacred wheat upon the victim laid,

Strong Thrasymed discharged the speeding blow

Full on his neck, and cut the nerves in two.

Down sunk the heavy beast; the females round

Maids, wives, and matrons, mix a shrilling sound.

Nor scorned the queen the holy choir to join

(The first born she, of old Clymenus’ line:

In youth by Nestor loved, of spotless fame.

And loved in age, Eurydice her name).

From earth they rear him, struggling now with death;

And Nestor’s youngest stops the vents of breath.

The soul for ever flies; on all sides round

Streams the black blood, and smokes upon the ground

The beast they then divide and disunite

The ribs and limbs, observant of the rite:

On these, in double cauls involved with art,

The choicest morsels lay from every part.

The sacred sage before his altar stands,

Turns the burnt offering with his holy hands,

And pours the wine, and bids the flames aspire;

The youth with instruments surround the fire.

The thighs now sacrificed, and entrails dress’d,

The assistants part, transfix, and broil the rest

While these officious tend the rites divine,

The last fair branch of the Nestorean line,

Sweet Polycaste, took the pleasing toil

To bathe the prince, and pour the fragrant oil.

O’er his fair limbs a flowery vest he threw,

And issued, like a god, to mortal view.

His former seat beside the king he found

(His people’s father with his peers around);

All placed at ease the holy banquet join,

And in the dazzling goblet laughs the wine.


The rage of thirst and hunger now suppress’d,

The monarch turns him to his royal guest;

And for the promised journey bids prepare

The smooth hair’d horses, and the rapid car.