Unmanly shrieks precede each dying groan,

And a red deluge floats the reeking stone.


Leiodes first before the victor falls:

The wretched augur thus for mercy calls:

“Oh gracious hear, nor let thy suppliant bleed;

Still undishonoured, or by word or deed,

Thy house, for me remains; by me repress’d

Full oft was check’d the injustice of the rest:

Averse they heard me when I counselled well,

Their hearts were harden’d, and they justly fell.

O spare an augur’s consecrated head,

Nor add the blameless to the guilty dead.”


“Priest as thou art! for that detested band

Thy lying prophecies deceived the land;

Against Ulysses have thy vows been made,

For them thy daily orisons were paid:

Yet more, e’en to our bed thy pride aspires:

One common crime one common fate requires.”


Thus speaking, from the ground the sword he took

Which Agelaus’ dying hand forsook:

Full through his neck the weighty falchion sped;

Along the pavement roll’d the muttering head.


Phemius alone the hand of vengeance spared,

Phemius the sweet, the heaven-instructed bard.

Beside the gate the reverend minstrel stands;

The lyre now silent trembling in his hands;

Dubious to supplicate the chief, or fly

To Jove’s inviolable altar nigh,

Where oft Laertes holy vows had paid,

And oft Ulysses smoking victims laid.

His honour’d harp with care he first set down,

Between the laver and the silver throne;

Then prostrate stretch’d before the dreadful man,

Persuasive thus, with accent soft began:


“O king! to mercy be thy soul inclined,

And spare the poet’s ever-gentle kind.

A deed like this thy future fame would wrong,

For dear to gods and men is sacred song.

Self-taught I sing; by Heaven, and Heaven alone,

The genuine seeds of poesy are sown:

And (what the gods bestow) the lofty lay

To gods alone and godlike worth we pay.

Save then the poet, and thyself reward!

’Tis thine to merit, mine is to record.